Page 40 of Doctor Neighbor

Either way, I can’t ignore the feeling that there’s more to our story. The movie leaves me wondering if fate really has a plan for us. Or is that just wishful thinking in a time where I feel like I need anything to cling to, to keep me from breaking completely…

As the final scenes of the movie unfold, the characters finally confront their past, and the tension that’s been building between them bursts into a passionate embrace. Their kiss is intense, filled with all the emotions they’ve kept bottled up for years. It’s raw and honest, a culmination of their journey and struggles.

I feel a knot tighten in my chest. Watching their passion makes me acutely aware of Buster sitting beside me and the palpable unspoken tension between us.

Slowly I move my hand towards Buster's middle, my heart racing. The air feels thick, charged with an electricity I can't ignore.

When I gently place my hand on his stomach, I feel the warmth of his body through his shirt. I don’t make any further moves; I just let my hand rest there, testing the waters.

My insides are on fire, desire coursing through me. I'm acutely aware of every point of contact between us—my hand on his stomach, our shoulders brushing, the closeness of our bodies on the couch. The attraction I feel for him in this moment is overwhelming, threatening to consume me.

I steal a glance at his face, trying to gauge his reaction. Does he notice my hand? Is he affected by this tension between us? I can't tell, and it's driving me crazy.

The movie continues playing, but I can barely focus on it anymore. All I can think about is Buster—his scent, his warmth, the strength I can feel beneath my palm. It's taking every ounce of self-control not to act on these feelings, not to turn to him and kiss him senseless.

I try to steady my breathing, but it isn’t easy. My body is humming with energy, alive with want. I know I should move my hand, that I should focus on the movie and not on how much I want to touch him, to be closer to him. But I can't bring myself to pull away.

Instead, I remain still, my hand on his stomach, hyper-aware of every slight movement, every breath. The tension builds, and I wonder if he can feel it, too, this magnetic pull between us.

The credits of the movie roll, but I can't take my eyes off Buster. The intensity of the film, coupled with the undeniable chemistry between us, has left me emotionally charged and aching with desire. I can feel his gaze on me, and it's as if we're both held in suspense, waiting for the other to make the first move.

I take a deep breath, my hand still resting on his cock. Slowly, I slide it down, feeling the muscles tense under my touch. There's a sharp intake of breath from Buster as I cup him through his pants, and any lingering doubts I might have about what I’m doing have vanished. His arousal is evident, and it ignites a fire within me.

With a newfound boldness, I unbutton his pants, my fingers brushing against his hard length. I can feel his eyes on me, heavy with lust, as I free him from the confines of his clothing. I wrap my hand around his cock, stroking him slowly, watching as his head falls back against the couch with a low moan.

I want to taste him, to drive him wild with my mouth. Urgently, I drop to my knees on the floor between his legs, looking up at him through my lashes. His eyes meet mine, dark with need, and it spurs me on. I lean forward, flicking my tongue over the tip of his cock, savoring the salty taste of him.

Buster's hips buck slightly at the contact, and I can't help but smile before I take him into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the head, then slowly begin to take more of him, inch by inch. His hands tangle in my hair, guiding me but not forcing, allowing me to set the pace.

I bob my head, my hand working in tandem with my mouth, building up a rhythm that has him panting and cursing under his breath. I can feel him getting closer, his thighs trembling beneath my hands, and I hollow my cheeks, sucking harder.

"Cole," he gasps out, a warning or a plea, I'm not sure. But I don't stop. I don't slow down. I want all of him, every last drop.

With a final, drawn-out moan, Buster comes undone. His body shudders as he spills into my mouth, and I swallow reflexively, not willing to waste a single bit. The taste of him, the feel of him losing control—it's intoxicating.

I release him gently, sitting back on my heels and wiping the corner of my mouth with a satisfied smirk. Buster looks down at me with a dazed expression, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

The moment’s intensity hasn't waned; if anything, it's only grown stronger. I stand up, my body humming with anticipation, and I know without a doubt that this is just the beginning.

THIRTEEN

Buster

Thursday, August 15

5:43 am

I wake slowly, my eyes adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through Cole's curtains. For a moment, I'm disoriented, but then memories of last night flood back, bringing a smile to my face. I'm not used to this—waking up next to someone, feeling content and relaxed. Usually, I'd be rushing off to the hospital or hitting the gym, but today, I have the luxury of time.

I turn my head, drinking in the sight of Cole sleeping peacefully beside me. Her chestnut hair fans out across the pillow, a few strands falling across her face. I resist the urge to brush them away, not wanting to disturb her.

Her features are soft in sleep, and all the worries and stress of yesterday have melted away. Long eyelashes rest against her cheeks, and her lips are slightly parted. Her breathing is slow and steady.

Her scent surrounds me—a mix of lavender and some other herb I can’t quite put my finger on. It's intoxicating. The warmth of her body radiates through the sheets, and I find myself wanting to pull her closer, to feel her skin on my skin.

Streaks of emerging sunlight dance across her form, highlighting the curve of her shoulder peeking out from under the comforter. I'm struck by how beautiful she is, how natural and unguarded she is at this moment. Her relaxed beauty and aura starkly contrast the woman I shared a bed with for the last two and a half years. It’s a nice and welcome change.

I listen to the quiet of the morning, broken only by the distant chirping of birds and Cole's soft breathing. It's peaceful, a far cry from the chaos of the hospital or the tension-filled moments I'd grown accustomed to with Lara.

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