Page 26 of Playing Doctor

Like a favored pet eager for its master’s touch, he leaned his head into the caress, and if the contented sigh that rumbled in his throat had an odd tone to it, who cared? If one night was all he had with her, he was damn well going to wring every ounce of pleasure, every nuance of luxury he could from it.

She lifted her arms, and her breasts rose along with them, wet and glistening with tiny beads of water dripping from her rosy nipples as she worked her own hair into a high ponytail at the back of her head. All he’d have to do was lean forward, just a little, and flick his tongue over those tight little buds. It was as if they were just calling to him, saying, “Well, here we are, come play with us!”

But that would lead to other things, like wrapping her legs around his waist and sliding into her hot, tight—

Nope, he needed to leave her alone. Instead, he reached out and grabbed her by the waist to drag her to him for a loud, smacking kiss that made her laugh. He turned her around and pulled her back snug to his chest, and in doing so, pressing her sweet ass up against his dick, which had definitely enjoyed the show.

Then he played with her breasts.

He missed this—the easy, after-sex closeness with his partner. He enjoyed cuddling, the warm afterglow, the scent of sex and woman. He hadn’t wanted this with any of his former partners since Rita’s death, but tonight, with Beth leaning back against his chest, her head resting against his shoulder, her breasts filling his hands, it just somehow felt…okay. Right. And because it felt okay and right, Gabe chose not to question it, to enjoy it for what was left of his time with her. He settled back against the tub, tucked her a little closer, and tried to ignore the streak of possessiveness worming its way into his heart.

“Can I ask you a question?” Beth’s hands skimmed up his thighs, coming to rest on his knees as they swished back and forth in the water.

“Sure, ask away,” he said happily, amusing himself with her nipples.

She turned her face into his neck, nuzzled her nose against his jaw. “It’s personal.”

Gabe ducked his head, buried his face in the crook of her neck. Steam rose up from the water, surrounding him with her scent. He breathed her in, filled his lungs with her fragrance. Beneath the swirling water, Gabe’s cock stirred, tapping against her lower back. “It doesn’t get much more personal than this, sugar.”

“Will you tell me about your wife?”

…

He went completely still. Had she crossed the line?

“You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable with it,” Beth said quickly. “It’s just…before the wedding, in the bride’s chambers, there were some women talking, and they said it was a pulmonary embolus that took her. I was just wondering if she had been ill…”

She could feel him relax, almost a muscle at a time. After a moment, he said, “Quid pro quo?”

This for that. Of course he would ask. She should have expected it. Beth slid her hand from his knee, fingered the faint scar on her lower abdomen. How much was she comfortable sharing with him? Other than her therapist, she hadn’t spoken about what happened between her and Jamie to anyone except her family and Connie. Unlike so many who had approached her with pity shortly after it had happened, they gave her love and support, vented and cursed with her. Backed off when she needed solitude. She hated the pity. She worried her lip with her teeth.

“Yes, quid pro quo,” she finally agreed.

His hands dropped from her breasts, sank into the water at his hips, as though touching her intimately while speaking of his wife made him uncomfortable—never mind that they were naked, sitting in a tub with her ass snuggled against his groin.

“Rita was a sports physical therapist. She and her assistant were doing a session with a football player on the balance beams. Big guy, six-four, around two hundred and forty pounds with a spinal injury. All the safety measures were in place, but…” His chest rose and fell against her back. “It was a freak accident that shouldn’t have happened. He fell on Rita, broke her femur.” Gabe found her hand in the water and brought it back up to rest on his knee. He slid his palm over the back of her hand, drew his fingers through hers. “Your turn. How did your husband die?”

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