Page 23 of Doctor Neighbor

I watch Cole reach into the utility closet, rummaging around for the screwdriver. My eyes can't help but trace the curve of her back, memories of our night together flooding back unbidden. She turns suddenly, and before I can step back, we collide.

I'm not sure who moves first, but suddenly, we're a mesh of bodies, limbs, and heated skin. Cole's hands are everywhere, exploring the contours of my body as if she's trying to memorize every inch. Her touch is electric, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through me.

In one swift motion, I hoist her onto the kitchen counter, my hands skimming up her thighs, pushing her dress up around her waist. Her panties are a flimsy barrier, and with a swift tug, they're on the floor. Cole's eyes are dark with want as she watches me, her breath coming in short, impatient bursts.

I step between her legs, my fingers tracing the soft skin of her inner thighs. She shivers at my touch, a low moan escaping her lips as I tease her, my thumb circling her center. Already, she’s wet, ready for me, and the realization sends a surge of primal need pulsing through my veins.

I can't wait any longer. I need to be inside her, to feel her tight around me. Quickly, I free myself from my shorts, my erection springing free, stiff, and aching for release. Cole's eyes flick down, a hungry look on her face as she reaches out to stroke me.

The sensation of her hand on me is almost too much to bear. I grab her wrist gently, pulling her hand away before I lose control. With a swift motion, I turn her around, pressing her against the pantry door. She gasps as I nudge her legs apart with my knee, the sound turning into a moan as I slide into her from behind.

Cole's body arches against mine, her fingers clutching at the door as I begin to move. Each thrust is deeper, harder than the last, our bodies slamming together in a rhythm as old as time. I can feel her tightening around me, her breath hitching as she gets closer to the edge.

I reach around, my fingers finding her most sensitive spot. I circle it in time with my thrusts, and within moments, Cole is crying out, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. The feel of her clenching around me is too much, and with a final, deep thrust, I follow her over the precipice, my release rushing through me like a freight train.

For a moment, we stay there, our ragged breaths echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. Slowly, I pull out of her, and we both turn to face each other, a mix of shock, satisfaction, and the dawning realization of what we've just done etched on our faces.

Time freezes. Cole's body is pressed against mine, her face mere inches away. I can feel the warmth of her breath and see the flecks of gold in her blue eyes. The air between us crackles with tension, years of unspoken words and buried emotions surging to the surface.

My heart pounds in my chest. I should move, step back, and apologize, but I'm rooted to the spot. Cole's eyes flick down to my lips, then back up to meet my gaze. There's a question there, a challenge.

Before I can process what's happening, Cole reaches up, her hand sliding to the back of my neck. She pulls me down, and our lips meet in a searing kiss.

It's like a dam breaking. All the pent-up desire, regret, and what-ifs come pouring out in this moment. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens.

Cole’s fingers tangle in my hair, and a soft moan escapes her.

The rational part of my brain is screaming at me to stop, reminding me of all the complications this will bring. But right now, with Cole in my arms, her lips moving against mine, I can't bring myself to care.

3:02 pm

I lay back on Cole's couch, hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. What the hell just happened?

Slam, bam, thank you, ma'am.

One minute, Cole's glaring at me like she wants to poke my eyes out. The next, she's kissing me with a force that makes my head spin and my dick twitch.

"I hate to eat and run, but I've got to pick up Madeline."

"Uh, okay. No worries. Um…” She has an uncanny talent to segue from one extreme to the other. I play the part of a player, but this is another level.

I run a hand over my face, trying to make sense of it all. The taste of her lips lingers, the ghost of her touch still burning on my skin. It was fast, hot, and completely unexpected. I feel like I've been hit by a truck—a sexy, confusing, giant eighteen-wheeler.

"Cole, wait," I call out, getting up and pulling on my scrubs. "Should we talk about this? I mean, at some point."

"There's nothing to talk about, really," she snaps, her voice drifting from the other room. "I have to go. Since you're right across the hall, come have a glass of wine with me on my balcony after eight. If you want to, of course.”

"Sure. Okay. That sounds good."

What the absolute fuck is happening right now? Like, seriously. Is she inviting me over for more? Is this a neighbors-with-benefits thing? Or is she going to throw me off the balcony in the night to punish me?

From the second floor, I wouldn't die. I'd just be mangled.

“I’m going to let you get ready. I'll head back to my place, but I'll plan to come by later. If anything changes, just leave me a note."

A note? What the fuck? Is this some of CIA covert operation? I'm being so weird. But this situation is anything but ordinary. I’m racking my brain to make sure I don’t say the wrong thing. Or worse, say nothing when I should be saying something.

I hear her front door slam about a minute after getting in my place, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a whole lot of questions.

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