Page 42 of Doctor One Night

We turn back to Mr. Remington and Theo, offering polite excuses before making our way to the exit. As we step outside, the night air is alive. There is an electricity in the air. The line of cars waiting to take guests home or to their next destination stretches down the driveway, and a sleek black car pulls up just as we approach.

The driver steps out, opening the door for us. Hunter introduces himself and me as he shakes his hand. “Dr. Parrish, Dr. Renna,” the driver says with a courteous nod. “Your ride is ready.”

I glance at Hunter, who raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Fancy service.”

“I guess there are some perks to all of this,” I reply, sliding into the car. He follows, and as the door closes behind us, the silence inside the vehicle tells me something is different.

The driver pulls away from the gala, heading toward the hospital, and I suddenly realize how close we’re sitting, how the space between us seems much smaller than it did before. The tension that’s been simmering all night—the excitement, the victory, the unspoken connection—now seems to fill the car, wrapping around us as we move through the quiet streets.

As the city lights blur past the window, I glance at Hunter, and our eyes meet. For a moment, neither of us says anything, but the look we share speaks volumes. Tonight isn’t over—not by a long shot.

UAB Hospital

10:59 pm

My fingers hover over the keyboard, the cursor blinking on the screen as I double-check the last few numbers. I should concentrate on this, making sure everything is perfect before sending the final proposal. Instead, all I can focus on is Hunter standing behind me, close enough that I can almost sense the heat radiating from his body.

“It looks good,” Hunter says, his voice low and steady, but there’s an undercurrent of something else that’s been simmering between us all night.

“Yeah,” I reply, my voice sounding far away, even to my own ears. I’m trying to focus, to keep my head in the game, but it’s nearly impossible with him this close. “I think we’re ready to send it.”

I move to click the button, but my hand is trembling slightly, betraying the calm I’m trying to project. Before I can second-guess myself, I hit send, watching as the email disappears into the ether. It’s done.

But the weight that should have lifted from my shoulders doesn’t disappear. Instead, it’s replaced by a different kind of tension, one that’s been compounding ever since we left the gala.

The space of the room seems smaller than normal, the air thicker, and I can sense Hunter’s gaze on me, more intense than ever.

“Frankie,” he says, and there’s something in the way he says my name that sends a shiver down my spine. I turn to face him, and the look in his eyes is all the confirmation I need. This isn’t about the proposal anymore—it’s about us.

His body leans closer, so close that the warmth of his breath on my skin is palpable. My heart is racing, and for a moment, I can’t breathe, can’t think. I’m caught in the gravitational pull of him, of this, and there’s no escape—not that I want one.

Before I can say anything, his hand reaches up and brushes a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers linger ever so slightly against my cheek. The touch is light and tentative, but it sends a jolt of electricity through me, waking up every nerve in my body.

Time seems to slow as he leans in, his gaze locked on mine, searching for any sign of hesitation. But there isn’t any. I’m all in. I have been since the moment our eyes met at the gala.

And then he kisses me. It’s soft at first, almost questioning, but I answer without words, pressing into him, deepening the kiss. The floodgates open, and suddenly, it’s like we can’t get close enough, can’t touch enough. The intensity of it all overwhelms me but in the best way possible.

It’s like riding a bike. Suddenly, that night in this same space comes rushing back, and my body and hands are on autopilot. It’s so natural, as if we are picking up where we left off.

I stand, my chair scraping back, and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down to me as our lips move together in a frenzy. The edge of the desk digs into the back of my thighs, but I don’t care. All I care about is this—about him, about the way he sets my body on fire.

Hunter’s hands grip my waist, pulling me closer and lifting me slightly so that our middles are aligned. My fingers tangle in his hair, and it’s like every touch, every kiss is erasing the space that’s always been between us.

The lab has always been my sanctuary, a place where logic and reason reign supreme and emotion is left outside. But as Hunter’s lips crash into mine, all that goes out the window. There’s nothing scientific about the way my body responds to his touch, the way my heart hammers against my ribcage, demanding to be let out, to be let free.

His hands are everywhere—on my hips, in my hair, sliding up my thighs, pushing my dress up around my waist. There’s an urgency to his movements, a desperation that matches my own. We’re past the point of no return, and we both know it.

I pull at his shirt, tugging it free from his pants, needing the heat of his skin against mine, wanting him to fuck me like he did before. He helps me, yanking it over his head and tossing it aside, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest, the tattoos that tell a story I want to dive into and know.

He pulls out his wallet, seemingly rummaging for protection. “I’m on the pill,” I whisper. I don’t have time for any diversion. I need him now, urgently.

Before I can explore further, he lifts me effortlessly, setting me down on the cool surface of my desk. Papers scatter, files topple, and a pen rolls off the edge, hitting the floor with a soft clatter. Neither of us cares. The only thing that matters is closing the distance between us and having him inside me, where he belongs.

Our lips never break contact as he fumbles with his belt, the metallic rasp of the buckle loud in the otherwise silent lab. I reach down to help him, our fingers tangling together in our haste—zippers being pulled down, buttons being undone, underwear being pushed aside.

And then he’s there, filling me completely, stretching me in the most exquisite way. I gasp at the intrusion, at the sudden fullness, but I don’t want him to stop. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper, wanting everything he has to give.

Each thrust rocks the desk beneath us. The sound of our bodies colliding echoes off the walls. It’s rough and intense, a meeting of two desperate souls, each seeking something in the other. My fingers dig into his back, clutching at his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he drives into me again and again.

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