Page 15 of A Dark Fall
“Who I take home or don’t take home is really none of your business, Jake. Like I said, I am not your property.”
He smiles, and it’s that wickedly sexy, sharp-toothed smile that makes me think illicit thoughts. It makes me think he’s thinking illicit thoughts too.
“Well, if you had,”—he leans in to whisper close to my ear—“I’m willing to bet everything I have that you would have wished it were me the entire time.” He inhales deeply at my neck, breathing me in. “As he fucked you, you’d have closed your eyes and imagined it were me.” When he brings his head back up, he looks arrogant, and for the first time, I find the quality so bloody sexy. He doesn’t need to know that though.
“Your arrogance is astounding. Do you know that?” I shake my head and look at the wall behind him, the beer kegs on the floor—anywhere but at that arrogant mouth I want so badly to wipe the smirk from. Preferably with my mouth.
He sighs, and even that sounds arrogant. “Again, not a no, Alex. So, like I said, upstairs. I want to see you again.”
Again, I try to think of all the reasons it’s a bad idea. But I can’t think, because his mouth is wet, and I can see his tongue, and the heat radiating from him makes it hard to concentrate.
“No,” I say. Finally.
To my surprise, he smiles again. Then he lets out an exaggerated sigh. “People don’t tend to say no to me, Alex.”
“Oh, really? Well, I do like to be unique,” I retort. My heart thunders so loud in my ears. Even I don’t understand why I’m saying no. Except it seems like the sensible thing to do, and I’m nothing if not sensible.
He nods. “You’re unique all right, Doctor Marlowe. Why don’t you want to see me again?”
“Because it’s not a good idea.” It’s not. Because he makes me far too weak, and too hot, and I enjoy maintaining a normal body temperature. “You were my patient. I can’t see patients like that. It’s not ... ethical.”
“Okay. Well, first off, how about I promise never to turn up at your surgery again? Ever. And second, how about I remind you of why it’s a good idea?” He lowers his gaze to my mouth. He’s going to kiss me again. To remind me. I can’t think of anything I’ve ever wanted or needed reminding of more in my life.
A small sound escapes my mouth, something between a moan and a plea, but he still doesn’t move his mouth to mine; he just stares at it. As I stand there willing him to kiss me, to remind me, minutes pass, maybe even an hour. When he doesn’t move, I take the initiative, impatient and needy, leaning forward to press my lips to his. I’m sure before our mouths touch he smirks again, but the thought goes out of my head as soon as his taste floods onto my tongue.
I slide my hands up his chest, curling them behind his neck into his hair to pull his head down to mine. He moans as I do this, and the sound does something to my insides, making them thrum and vibrate. Need.
My god, he tastes divine. Like danger and sex and heat. Masculinity and intoxication. Sin and desire. I’m pretty sure I could kiss him forever. Who needs to breathe anyway? Or eat. I’m in no rush to pull away this time. It’s good here—I want to stay. His mouth milks my own, tongue lapping at mine, skin against skin, breaths dancing together. The sound and feel of his hot, quick breath against my face is arousing beyond belief.
From somewhere far, far off, I hear a throat clearing, but Jake continues his assault on my mouth. Or is it my assault on his? I’m not sure. I’ve utterly lost track. Lost once more.
“Jay,” a voice says.
Slowly, reluctantly, Jake peels himself from my mouth, staring longingly into my eyes. He places a last lick of his tongue on my upper lip before raising his head, allowing me to look away and find the voice.
Kev looks between Jake and me, leering, knowing, as though he’s just watched us do more than kiss. It makes me feel exposed and spied on.
I glance down. Jake turns to him.
“You’re needed upstairs, mate,” Kev tells him.
Jake mutters a curse, which must be about being needed upstairs rather than being called “mate” again. Kev the creep is apparently one of those allowed to call him that.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll follow you up,” he says, and Kev nods before heading off, back the way he came.
As Kev’s footsteps die away, Jake turns to me. Slowly, he brings his hand up to trace his fingertips over my collarbone before gently moving my hair back behind my shoulder to expose my neck. I wondered how you would smell here ... His face is softer now. Softer than I’ve ever seen it.
“So ... still think it’s a bad idea to see me again?” he asks with an almost boyish grin.
How does he do that? Sexy and arrogant one moment, adorable and boyishness the next. In any case, I do in fact still think it’s a bad idea to see him again. He has heartbreak written all over him. Plus, he is absolutely not my type. I can’t date someone like him. He probably doesn’t date anyway. He probably has sex—a lot. And probably not with the same girl twice.
God, I want to see him again though. I want to do more than see him. I want him. I want to know what he looks like undressed, and what he sounds like while having sex, and how he takes his coffee.
If I were at home, out of his reach, I’d feel far more confident that seeing him again is a terrible idea. But I’m not at home. I’m here, and he’s looking at me like a hungry animal looks at meat, and that should be enough of a warning. I shake my head no, but he grabs my chin gently, forcing me to meet his eye.
“You know, I knew getting you wasn’t going to be easy, Alex. I knew that.” He strokes his thumb over my bottom lip, soft, tender. “So, if you want me to chase you, then I’m prepared to do that. First time for everything, I suppose. Might even be fun.” He grins.
He knew “getting me” wouldn’t be easy? He wants to chase me?