Page 73 of A Love That Broke Us
I push myself up a few inches, then slide my hands up her thighs, my thumbs tracing along the fabric of her scrubs.
“It was good.” My voice is low, still thick with sleep. “Busy. Passed the fuck out apparently.”
“Well, that’s good. You obviously needed it.” She pauses before asking, “How’s your knee today?”
“Same ol’ shit, different day.” I huff a laugh. “Took a regular strength Tylenol. It didn’t do shit.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna help.”
“Did you get the ibuprofen?”
She nods. “You want me to grab you one?”
I assess the pain. It’s not terrible, just a dull pulse if I really focus on it. I know why it feels better—but I don’t want to think about that.
“I’ll take one before bed,” I murmur, my hands inching higher. “Right now, I’m more interested in the distraction that’s making me hard as hell.”
My gaze locks on hers as my thumb brushes along the sensitive crease where her thigh meets her pussy.
Yeah. She loves that.
She bites her bottom lip, a grin breaking through. Her eyes drop, then lift again beneath her lashes—dark, alluring.
“Oh, really?” she teases, her hands gliding up my chest. One slips higher, curling around my neck, her thumb brushing my pulse point. “And what distraction is that?”
She hovers over my lips, her breath warm against mine.
I chuckle, low and wicked. My hand slides to her ass, giving it a light slap before gripping the soft curve, firm in my palm. I’m even harder now, pressing up against her. “This hot nurse.”
She kisses me, grazing my bottom lip with her teeth and tugging gently.
“I hear she gives good head, and her pussy’s like a fine wine,” I say, unable to stop the grin tugging at my lips.
She pulls back, locking eyes. “My pussy is not a fine wine. That would mean it’s aged.”
I chuckle again. “You’re right. That wasn’t good.”
She shakes her head, lips pressed together like she’s fighting a grin.
Kissing my jaw, she trails her mouth to my ear, nibbling my lobe. “No,” she whispers. “It’s young.” She kisses that sweet spot behind my ear—one of my favorites. “Tight.” She flicks the inside of my ear. “And wet.” She grinds into me, sliding back just right, rubbing my dick right where it counts. “Waiting for you and your incredibly hard cock.”
“Jesus, babe.” I can hardly think straight. She’s so hot—knows exactly how to drive me crazy. My arms wrap around her without thinking, pulling her close. I press a kiss to her neck, her skin soft and smooth beneath my lips.
Her mouth finds mine, and I pull her into a heated kiss, one hand cupping her neck, my thumb brushing her cheek.
A low groan rumbles in my chest as her hands slide under my shirt.
Fuck. She’s the best.
Even if my knee were screaming right now, I doubt I’d care. She’s better than any drug I could buy. She makes everything better—every day. Every. Damn. Day.
Can you be addicted to a person?
Because if so, I am.
I’m an addict.
And my drug of choice?
