Page 69 of Doctor One Night

Friday, May 31

6:14 am

The soft gray light of early morning filters into the room, casting a delicate glow over everything it touches. I blink awake, surprised that I’m up this early—especially after last night. Normally, I’m the last one to rise, but something stirred me, something that tells me it’s more than just the remnants of a dream.

I turn over, and my breath catches in my throat. Hunter is still asleep beside me, his face softened in the quiet serenity of slumber. The lines of worry and determination ever present along his brow are gone, leaving him looking almost boyish in the soft dawn light. I smile involuntarily at how handsome and peaceful he looks.

And he's in my bed.

My gaze drifts over his features, taking in the sharp angles of his jaw, the strong curve of his cheekbones, the way his lips are slightly parted as he breathes deeply, rhythmically. Even in sleep, there’s a quiet power about him, a kind of strength that seems to radiate from within.

And then my eyes are drawn to the tattoos that cover his arms and chest, peeking out from under the sheets. The ink is dark against his skin, swirling patterns and intricate designs that tell stories I’ve yet to learn.

I’ve never been with a man who has this much ink, and I can’t deny how incredibly sexy I find it. The tattoos give him an edge, a hint of danger that contrasts sharply with the kindness and empathy I’ve come to know in him. And it suits him.

As the daylight begins to spill more fully into the room, it highlights the details of the ink, the way it contours to his muscles, enhancing the natural lines of his body. He looks like something out of a fantasy—bad boy on the outside, but now I know better. Beneath the tattoos and the gruff exterior, Hunter is one of the most caring, compassionate people I’ve ever known.

My heart aches a little as I watch him, a mix of fear and longing swirling in my chest. I’m falling for him, hard, and that scares the shit out of me. I didn’t plan for this, didn’t want this, but now that it’s happening, I don’t know how to stop it. And maybe, deep down, I don’t want to.

I just hope I'm another victim to think she will be different. My mom always told me, when a man tells you who he is, believe him. He's said from the beginning he didn't want anything.

In fairness, so did I. Intentions change. Feelings grow. I can only follow my heart and trust that it wouldn't lead me astray.

I reach out tentatively, tracing the edge of one of the tattoos on his arm with my fingertips. His skin is warm and smooth under my touch. He shifts slightly in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent, but doesn’t wake. I let my hand linger a moment longer, soaking in the aura of him, before pulling back.

The room is slowly brightening, and I know he’ll wake soon. This rare, stolen moment of pure voyeurism is fleeting, I know. I want to soak up as much of him like this that I can.

His eyes flutter open, those deep blues locking onto mine, and he smiles—a little sheepish, a little sleepy, and a lot sexy. It’s the kind of smile that could power the whole city, and for a moment, it’s like the only woman in the world who’s been lucky enough to receive it.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver through me.

I don't trust myself to speak, so instead, I let my actions do the talking. My hand slips beneath the sheets, finding the firm planes of his stomach, tracing the contours of his muscles until I reach the prize I'm seeking. I wrap my fingers around his growing erection, feeling it swell and harden in my grasp.

Hunter's breath hitches as I begin to stroke him, his gaze never leaving my face. There's a hunger there, a raw need that mirrors my own, and it spurs me on.

With a swift, fluid motion, I straddle him, my hair falling in a curtain around us as I lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. His hands find my hips, gripping me tightly as I rock against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure radiating through my core.

I savor the pressure, hard and insistent, urgent against my entrance, and I don't waste any time. I rise up, positioning him at my center, and then I sink down, taking him in fully with one swift motion. We both gasp at the suddenness of the connection, the exquisite fullness of it.

Our rhythm is fast and frenzied, driven by the urgency of our impending separation. He thrusts up to meet me, each stroke sending waves of ecstasy crashing over us both. Our bodies move together as if they were made for this dance, each motion more intense than the last.

Hunter's hands wander, exploring the curves of my body with an urgency that speaks of unspoken desires and the bittersweet knowledge that this moment can't last. He palms my breasts, teasing my nipples into tight buds, and the sensation shoots straight to my core, intensifying the building pressure.

I throw my head back, my movements becoming more erratic as I ride the edge of release. Hunter sits up, wrapping his arms around me, and captures my nipple in his mouth. The added sensation sends me tumbling over the edge, and I cry out as my orgasm crashes over me in relentless waves.

Hunter isn't far behind, his own release following swiftly on the heels of mine. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, muffling his groan as he finds his release, his body shuddering beneath mine with the force of it.

We stay like that for a moment, our ragged breaths gradually syncing up with the steady beat of our hearts. Then reality starts to intrude, and with a reluctant sigh, Hunter gently disentangles himself from me.

“I have to go,” he says, his voice tinged with regret. “Surgery waits for no one.”

I nod, understanding the demands of our professions all too well. As he gets up and starts to dress, I can't help but watch him, memorizing every line and curve of his body, every detail of his tattoos.

He catches me looking and flashes me that smile again, the one that seems to hold a promise of more to come. And despite the early hour and the swift departure upon us, I can't help but bask in a sense of contentment.

Morning sex has a way of setting the tone for the day, and this passion, connection, the raw honesty of it, is definitely something I could get used to.

2:49 pm

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