Page 61 of Doctor Enemy

“It wouldn't have meant as much,” I tell her.

“You’re only supposed to carry brides through the door like that,” Lori chides me, but there’s no real heat through the words.

It still makes something flicker to life inside of me. I don’t know what I like more. The thought of her all done up in white, or the thought of her wearing a ring that marks her as mine in the eyes of everyone around us. Both, maybe.

Indefinably, both.

“I must have read the memo wrong,” I tell her, catching her in a silencing kiss.

I climb onto the bed with her, framing her body with my own. My hands touch every inch of her body that I can get them up against, sliding them under her shirt and pulling it off. Without hesitation, I plaster her neck with open-mouthed kisses, and the parts of her breasts not covered by her lacy blue bra.

“Kurt,” she moans.

“Up,” I urge her. “Come on, sweet thing, get on your knees for me.”

Her face goes almost instantly pink, like someone hit her with a heavy hand of blush. Lori does as I say, though, squirming higher up onto the bed and then turning around, getting up on her hands and knees for me. Her tight-fitting white jeans hug her curves in all the right ways.

“That’s what I like to see. Look at the ass on you.” I rise up onto my knees as well, looming behind her and undoing the clasp of her jeans. The white denim is pulled down, tangling around her knees. Her panties meet the same fate, shoved down so low, they tangle up on her, keeping her legs right where I want them.

I shove a finger between her thighs, pressing up into her wet pussy. A second one joins the first in hardly any time at all. Lori’s shoulders go tensed at the stretch, but her moans of pleasure stop me from being too concerned.

As it turns out, Lori likes it when things get a little rough.

That’s a good thing because I’m not much of a fan of having to hold back.

The sound of her pussy being fingered fills the room, bouncing off the empty walls. I bring her right to the edge of orgasm, feeling the way that her body goes tight around my digits, the way that she starts moaning even louder, rocking against my hand—and then pull my hand away.

“No, no,” I chide her. “Not yet.”

“Kurt,” protests Lori. “You know I hate it when you tease me!”

“But you just look so pretty when you get frustrated. I can’t help it.” I caress the soft swells of her ass cheeks, and then I finally move a little closer, letting the hot length of my cock press against her wet folds. The touch is electric.

Lori whines. She knows exactly what I want to hear, and has no problems, at this point, giving in easily. “Please don’t tease me anymore.” She tries to reach around with one hand, but I’m positioned just out of her reach. “Please just fuck me already!”

“When you ask me so nicely,” I say, letting the sentence trail off. My cock is so hard that it’s aching. It’s no difficulty pressing inside of her and even less difficulty pushing in until I’m balls deep. She’s so fucking tight, it’s easy to get lost in.

Lori gives a relieved moan, pressing her forehead harder against the soft top of the mattress.

Agonizingly slowly, I pull out until only the head of my cock is still inside and then I thrust into her as hard as I can, relishing in the sting of skin cracking against skin, and with the single-minded intention of christening our new bedroom… Hopefully, for the rest of the evening.

Chapter twenty-two

Lori

“Istilldon’tseewhat we’re celebrating,” I say, stepping out of the automatic front doors of the hospital.

It’s so late in the evening that the streetlamps have come on, casting bright orange glows over the tops of the parked cars. The lot is still full.

Amanda and Cara just trade amused looks, one on either side of me. We’ve grown closer over the last three months, since the fiasco with Olivia. Cara and Amanda are the kind of besties that are hard to separate from each other; the closer that I got to Cara, the closer I’ve gotten to Amanda.

She’s a sweet woman, determined, and a lot better at balancing her work and home life than most people that I know. She’s got two kids and talks often about wanting a third in the future, though I don’t think there’s any rush for that to happen.

I’m grateful to have them to lean on.

In the wake of having lost someone that I considered my best friend, it’s been really nice to have more than just my boyfriend to turn to. And even though Amanda isn’t the same kind of gossipmonger that Cara is, she’s been a great shoulder to lean on all the same.

It’s a little less nice that they both seem to have some sort of a secret that they just aren’t telling me.

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