Page 43 of Secret Baby for Dr. Grump

I curl my hand inward until his head tilts just a little bit to rest on it. Luke emits a longer sigh, his weariness visible. But he doesn’t even care about that.

The guy who acts out in front of everyone, sometimes even to patients, has a good heart. I’ve seen glimpses of it throughout our interactions and the way he treats Riley, but I guess I’ve been holding back from fully seeing this side of him. He’s also just human—the type who, at the end of the day, feels for his patients and gets affected by their condition no matter how hard he tries to separate himself from them.

It’s this understanding that propels me forward until I’m no longer just cupping his cheek but hugging him, too. I can sense his surprise from his sudden tension, but it’s gone in a blink as his arms wrap around me. I know I’m the one comforting him, but the warmth he emits is a source of comfort for me, too.

“Liv…what is this?”

His voice is gruff and just a little bit confused.

“I just thought you needed a hug.”

I bury my head in his chest and feel the rapid beat of his heart. That’s comforting, too, but there’s also a certain thrill that tells me I’m toeing some kind of line. His next sigh ruffles my hair.

“I’ve never been offered one before.”

“Really?” I pause. “Not even by your lovers?”

“Let’s just say my old lovers were interested in more than hugging.”

The words should leave a bad taste in my mouth, but they don’t—not when I can feel how much he likes this hug more. So I hold him tighter until his hands tighten around me, too, and our separate warmth becomes one. At some point, I can feel his breathing picking up and his hands moving against my shirt, crumpling and letting the material go.

My breathing picks up, too. My heartbeat accelerates as warmth turns into heat and I get pulled right into it. Gravel fills Luke’s voice as he clears his throat, his fingers loosening from the hem of my shirt.

“You’re past your shift, Liv. I should…”

Let you go is what he wants to say.

But a part of me hates the idea, already feeling the loss of him leaving. It’s that part that has me grabbing hold of his shirt before he can back away and tilting my head up…then standing on tiptoe so that my mouth can meet his.

He sucks in a breath, his shock ringing between us. But it doesn’t last long as desire soon follows, his as tangible as ever as it spears from him through me. I gasp at how hungry he is as he devours my mouth, unleashing every bit of it like he’s been holding it back for so long.

Perhaps he has been. He’s been so patient, and it resonates inside me now. I kiss him back with just as much fervor, our tongues tangling.

Our hands are busy, too, mine cruising under his shirt and his just at the edge of my bra. When his fingers tremble and pause, I let out a sound of despair.

“Liv?”

It’s just one word, but I understand every emotion swirling in it: Hope. Uncertainty. Disbelief.

But his utter desire trumps everything.

“Don’t stop,” is all I say.

It’s enough. It’s all he needs for those hands to move more firmly until every surface he comes across sends fire raging in my body. I’m blind to everything except those hands and that mouth, but a part of me is aware that we’re moving—or rather, he’s moving us until a door shuts and we’re wrapped in semi-darkness.

Again, there’s a tension-filled pause as Luke allows me to take in my surroundings. I note the file cabinets, but it’s what’s behind them that takes my attention.

“I want you so bad.” His confession is rough and shoots lightning bolts inside me. “But you have to understand that I can’t hold back now if I keep touching you like this…”

In response, I kiss him harder until he gets the picture. Luke makes a deep, guttural sound in his throat before the shift happens and he’s the one actively pulling me until we’re at the back of the file room. I have a second to glance at the mattress, thick and elevated but with enough coverage from the taller file cabinets at the front.

We stand before that mattress, our mouths unable to get enough of each other. Our hands are relentless, too, unbuttoning and unzipping clothes until we’re down to our underwear. Then my back is on the bed and Luke is on top of me, hard and so muscular that I can’t help the zing of anticipation that shoots from deep within.

I expect him to discard our underwear right away so he can enter me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breaks the kiss amid my protests, then trails that mouth down my neck until I’m arching for him. Even then, he doesn’t stop, nudging my bra down until he can feast his gaze on my nipples.

“Fuck. So stiff.”

I flush with embarrassment, but that flies out of the window when he closes his lips over one and sucks with abandon. I stifle my cries as my hands wrap around his hair, tugging as I writhe against his ministrations. Then I go still when a finger presses against my underwear before he discards that, too.

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