delicate fabric. “Very focused.”
Her head fell back against the door as arrows of sensation shot straight to her core. Her body was on fire. She was burning with want, with need. Desperate, aching need. She was so tightly wound up she was practically vibrating.
Then he dipped his head and found her breast with his mouth, suckling her through the lace. She slid her fingers into his hair, holding him against her as waves of exquisite sensation washed over her.
His mouth moved to her other breast as his hand slid down the front of her pants, his fingertips brushing over the aching nub at her center. The light touch made her gasp and shudder. He parted the soft folds of skin, groaning his appreciation when he found that she was already wet.
“You do something to me, Wallace,” he admitted gruffly.
“Do something to me,” she suggested, reaching a hand into his pants to wrap around the hard length of him, making him groan again. “Do me.”
“I will,” he promised.
But for now, he continued to touch and tease her. She bit hard on her lip to keep from crying out, her palms flat against the door to hold herself upright as her knees quivered and her body shuddered.
She was gasping and panting and on the verge of melting into a puddle at his feet when he pushed her panties down to her ankles with her pants, then shoved his own pants and boxers out of the way. Finally he covered her mouth with his and thrust into her, kissing her hard and deep as he took her body the same way.
She was ready for him. More than ready. But it had been a long time, and she’d almost forgotten how good it could feel. How exquisitely and blissfully good.
It was pretty much a consensus among the female contingent of the hospital nursing staff that Dr. Garrett could satisfy a woman’s every want and need, and he lived up to that reputation now. He used his hands and his lips and his body to drive her to the ultimate pinnacle of pleasure and far beyond, soaring into the abyss with her.
When she finally floated back to earth, her body was still pinned against the door, still intimately joined with his. She took a minute to catch her breath as he did the same.
“I think I might need the paddles to restart my heart, Wallace.”
She forced herself to match his casual tone. “Then it’s a good thing you’re a doctor.”
But even while her body continued to hum with the aftereffects of pleasure, her mind was beginning to remember the hundred and one reasons that giving in to the attraction she felt for Justin was a bad idea. The number one reason was the MD that followed his name; the hundred other reasons were the hundred names of other women he’d undoubtedly pleasured in a similar manner.
He brushed his lips against hers—the kiss surprisingly tender and sweet on the heels of their passionate and almost desperate coupling.
“Do you ever wonder how we didn’t end up here before now?” he asked her.
Her brows lifted. “Mostly naked in a housekeeping supply closet?”
“I was focused on the mostly naked part,” he said. “And thinking that I’d like to take you back to my place and progress from mostly to completely naked.”
She shook her head and pushed him away so she could pull up her pants and gather the rest of her discarded clothing. “Not a good idea.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because we have to work together.”
“We’ve always worked well together,” he noted. “And now we know that we play well together, too, and—”
She touched a hand to his lips, silencing his words as she shook her head. “No.”
He frowned. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she insisted, refastening her bra.
“You’re just going to walk away?”
She tugged her shirt over her head. “Well, someone is eventually going to need something from this closet, so it’s probably not a good idea to stay here.”
“You know I’m not referring to the closet but what happened between us,” he chided.
“It was an impulse, Garrett. Nothing more than that.”
“An impulse,” he echoed.
He sounded oddly hurt by her characterization of their actions—but she was probably just imagining it. After all, Justin Garrett didn’t do emotions or involvement. He moved in and then moved on, and she thought he would appreciate that she didn’t want anything more than that.
“It was an intense situation in the ER tonight and we both worked hard to ensure a young couple had reason to celebrate rather than mourn the start of the New Year.”
“You think that what just happened between us only happened because of adrenaline?” he asked incredulously.
“And proximity,” she allowed.
“So this is normal postoperative procedure for you?”
“No!”
“Then it was out-of-character behavior?” he pressed.
“Very,” she admitted.
“And probably an inevitable result of the fact that you’ve been denying the attraction between us for more than three years.”
Probably. Although she had no intention of admitting it. To Avery’s mind, it was bad enough that she’d succumbed to the attraction she’d tried so hard to ignore without giving him the additional satisfaction of knowing that she’d harbored those feelings for so long.
But he was right—she’d been attracted to him from the beginning. The day she interviewed with the chief of staff at Mercy Hospital, the first time she’d met Justin, he’d smiled at her and her pulse had skyrocketed.
She wasn’t unfamiliar with attraction, but she couldn’t remember ever having it hit her so immediately and intensely. On her first day of work, he’d flirted with her a little, and she’d flirted back.
And then, later that same day, she’d seen him flirting with someone else. The day after that, it was someone different again. It had only taken three more days—three more shifts at the hospital—for her to realize that Justin Garrett, aka Dr. Romeo, was not her type. He’d continued to flirt with her—or try to—when their paths crossed, but she’d given him no encouragement.
Not until she’d kissed him.
“I have to go.”
He slapped his hand against the door to prevent her from opening it. “And you’re still denying it,” he noted.
“Let me go, Garrett.”
“I’m not holding you hostage. I’m just trying to have a conversation.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. You got another notch to add to your bedpost—isn’t that enough for you?”
“I don’t have bedposts,” he said. “Which I’d be happy to prove to you if you come home with me when I get off shift.”
“No,” she said firmly.
He brushed a loose hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, the light touch of his fingertips on her skin making her shiver and want him all over again. Damn him.
“What did I do wrong?” he asked her. “Aside from taking you against the closet door with all the finesse of a horny teenager, I mean.”
She wished she could blame him for that, but she’d initiated everything. She wished she could dismiss the experience as unsatisfactory, but the truth was, despite the setting and the pace of the event, her body had been very thoroughly satisfied.
“You