Page 67 of Doctor Hot Mess

“Maybe,” he says, his tone shifting, quieter now. “But I’m thinking not snuggling sounds pretty good, too.”

The words hang between us, heavy with implication, and before I can respond, his lips find mine. The kiss is slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment. My heart stutters in my chest as I lean into him, my hands resting lightly on his chest.

When he pulls back just enough to look at me, there’s a flicker of something vulnerable in his gorgeous blue eyes. “Harper...” he starts, but whatever he was about to say, he stops himself.

“What?” I ask softly, searching his face.

He shakes his head, a small, almost self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing. Thank you. For this. For…” He trails off again, but I understand what he’s trying to say. For not pushing. For being here.

"You don't have to thank me," I say, sliding my hand to his cheek and savoring the roughness of his stubble against my open palm. "But you're welcome to anyway."

Jonah's eyes darken as he pulls me flush against him. His lips crash into mine, urgent and demanding. I gasp as I feel the hard length of him pressing into my stomach through his thin joggers. Heat floods my core, desire coiling tight within me.

"Fuck, Harper," he growls against my mouth. "I want you so bad."

"Then take me," I breathe, running my hands down his chest.

In one swift motion, Jonah yanks my gym shirt over my head, tossing it aside. His hot gaze rakes over my sports bra as he fumbles for his wallet, extracting a condom. I slide my hands into the waistband of his joggers, pushing them and his boxers down in one go. His thick cock springs free and I wrap my fingers around the velvet-steel shaft, stroking slowly.

Jonah groans, his head falling back. "Jesus Christ, Harper."

I tug him towards the bedroom, shimmying out of my leggings as we stumble through the doorway. Jonah tears open the condom packet with his teeth, rolling it on quickly. We tumble onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, lips, and hands roaming feverishly.

Jonah's hands slide to my hips, urging me onto my knees. I comply eagerly, arching my back as he positions himself behind me. The blunt head of his cock nudges my entrance and I moan in anticipation.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" Jonah husks, his voice rough with desire.

"God, yes," I pant. "Please, Jonah. I need you inside me."

With a guttural groan, Jonah pushes into me in one long, slow thrust. I cry out at the delicious stretch, gripping the sheets as he fills me.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," Jonah groans, his fingers digging into my hips. "So tight and wet for me."

He starts to move, setting a punishing rhythm that has me seeing stars. The room fills with the sounds of our pleasure - skin slapping against skin, breathy moans, and whispered curses.

"Harder," I beg, pushing back to meet his thrusts. "God, Jonah, don't stop."

Jonah obliges, pounding into me relentlessly. One hand snakes around to rub tight circles on my clit and I cry out, trembling on the edge of release.

"That's it, baby," Jonah pants. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

His words send me careening over the edge. I come with a hoarse cry, clenching rhythmically around him as waves of pleasure crash over me. Jonah follows soon after, burying himself to the hilt with a strangled groan of my name.

We collapse onto the bed, breathing heavily. Jonah pulls me close, pressing a tender kiss to my temple. In the afterglow, I feel more connected to him than ever before, savoring this moment of raw intimacy we've shared.

TWENTY-FIVE

Jonah

12:01 PM

I lie still,watching the way Harper's hair spills across the pillow. I love how it catches the golden afternoon light that filters through the blinds. Her face is peaceful, free of the tension that usually comes with twelve-hour shifts and navigating my mess of a life.

I'm usually that peaceful, carefree guy. It's like I've become someone in a matter of a few days I've fought so hard not to be. I want to get back to that place where everything rolls off of me like water off of a duck's back.

I carefully pull my arm up to look at the time. After that amazing sex, I was out for over an hour. I guess I needed the sleep. And the release I got with her was the perfect preface to that.

I don’t move, afraid to disturb her. For all the times I’ve been in bed with someone, it’s never felt like this—like being here is the only place I want to be. I don’t have to entertain, charm, or deflect. I don’t have to figure out an exit plan or an excuse to be anywhere but here.

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