Page 10 of My Reluctant Valentine

“Yours,” she whispered. I pressed one finger lengthwise into her slit over her clothes as I gave her a taste of what was to come. How she was going to come. But later.

“We have to stop,” I managed to say. “Unless you want me to take you right here in the SUV.”

Her eyes darkened. “Is that possible?”

“Ella.” I closed my eyes, counting to ten. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

“Technically, sexual arousal doesn’t actually cause death. Although there are rare cases of—”

I kissed her again, quick and hard, just to shut her up. When I pulled back, she was smiling.

“Did you just kiss me to stop me from talking medical?”

“Maybe.” I couldn’t help grinning back. “Is it working?”

“I don’t know. I know quite a few medical terms. You might have to kiss me a lot.”

Damn it. How did she manage to be adorable and sexy at the same time?

A knock on the window made us both jump. An elderly couple peered in at us, the woman giving us a knowing smile and a thumbs up while her husband just shook his head.

Ella burst into giggles, hiding her face against my chest. “Oh God. We’re making out like teenagers in the parking lot.”

“Technically,” I said, mimicking her doctor voice, “elevated arousal states can lead to impaired judgment and—”

She swatted my chest. “Stop stealing my medical lines.”

I caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Inside, little doctor, before we get arrested. Get some sleep. We’ll discuss your…educational requests tomorrow.”

I forced myself to let her go. But as I watched her disappear into the building, all I could think about was how she’d tasted. How she’d sounded when she’d moaned my name. How perfectly she’d fit against me.

Only when she was safely inside did I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“Fuck.” I rested my forehead against the steering wheel. “Jake is going to fucking kill me.”

CHAPTER SIX

Ella

“Sleep well?”

Cole’s deep voice made me jump as I exited my hotel room the next morning. He was leaning against the wall, looking unfairly attractive in tactical gear at seven in the morning. The memory of yesterday’s kisses—and the dreams they had inspired—made my panties wet yet again.

“Fine. Good. Normal REM cycles and everything.” I fumbled with my key card. “Though anticipation can cause disruption in standard sleep patterns.”

“Did you think about me?” He pushed off the wall, crowding me against my door. “When you touched yourself?”

My mouth went dry. “That’s... that’s a very personal question.”

“Baby, we’re about to get very personal.” His voice dropped.” I thought about you. All night. About how wet you’ll be for me. How tight. How perfect you’ll feel when I’m buried inside you. So. Fucking. Deep.”

I looked at him, my heart in my throat. Did that mean? “Are you?”

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, yeah, little doctor.”

Relief flooded through me, along with a fresh wave of wetness. “Good, good. I’ve prepared a theoretical framework based on progressive exposure therapy—”

He cut me off, both hands braced beside my head. “No, baby. No lesson plans needed. I’m going to fuck you. Thoroughly. Repeatedly. Until you forget every medical term you know. Until the only word you remember is my name.”

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