How Much I Feel

by Force, Marie

  By the time he knocks on my door, my heart rate is approaching the danger zone, and I’m lightheaded from failing to breathe. Good thing he’s an accomplished doctor, because I might need one.

  When I open the door, he fills the doorway. Once again, his arms are over his head on the doorjamb, dress shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular arms. The look of blatant desire in his tired eyes makes my knees weak. For the longest time, we simply stare at each other.

  “You going to invite me in, sweetheart?”

  His question startles me out of the trance I slipped into at the sight of him. “Oh, um, yes. Of course. Come in.”

  The door clicks shut, and I turn to him. “How’d it go—”

  He wraps his arm around my waist, pulls me tight against him and kisses me.

  Hours of anticipation and desire come together in the most passionate kiss we’ve shared yet. We’re ravenous for each other, his lips and tongue devouring me with a ferocity that has me clinging to him in order to remain standing. He presses my back to the wall in the foyer, tips his head and cups my cheek, his fingers sliding gently over my sensitive skin as his lips and tongue continue their sensual torture.

  It’s unbearable and necessary at the same time. Until he caressed me with such tenderness, I hadn’t realized how much I’ve missed being touched like this.

  “Tell me to stop, Carmen,” he whispers gruffly in my ear, setting off a whole new calamity inside me.

  With Tony, our physical relationship was a slow build as we went from children to adults and learned about love and desire together. This . . . This is an entirely different experience. I can’t get close enough to Jason. I’m drunk on the way he makes me feel, alive in a way I haven’t been in years, in a way I thought I might never be again.

  I can’t even find the wherewithal to feel guilty or conflicted about having these feelings for someone other than my late husband. The need for Jason is so consuming it drowns out everything else, even Tony. A week ago, I would’ve said that wasn’t possible. Now I know otherwise.

  He shifts his attention to my neck, and I strain to get closer to him, our bodies intimately aligned, the hard ridge of his cock pressed to my belly.

  Though he has my brain completely scrambled, I still want to know how the surgery went. “Tell me about the boy,” I manage to say as he kisses my neck. “Is he okay?”

  “If you believe in things happening for a reason, I’ve got quite a story for you.”

  I grab his shirt to keep him close to me while he tells me his story.

  “The mother signed the release, right?”

  “She did.”

  “Then I can tell you the boy had a tumor.”

  Gasping, I look up at him. “Oh my God.”

  He continues to kiss my neck and make me crazy. “He had a medulloblastoma, a tumor on the posterior fossa, the most common malignant brain tumor of childhood. It occurs exclusively in the cerebellum. It was a T2, which means it was greater than three centimeters in diameter, with no evidence of gross subarachnoid or hematogenous metastasis, which is the best news of all.”

  I shiver, as much from what he’s doing to my neck as listening to him and realizing just how incredibly smart and talented he is. That’s as attractive to me as his handsome face, warm smile and sexy body. “I have no idea what you just said, but it sounds serious.”

  “It’s the exact tumor my team and I have been studying for the last three years.”

  I pull back again to look up at his face. “Seriously?”

  He nods. “There is, literally, no one in this country better prepared to operate on that particular tumor than I am. What’re the odds that I should encounter a child at your cousin’s free clinic in Little Havana who needed exactly what I’m most uniquely qualified to provide?”

  I’m flabbergasted by this turn of events. “That’s incredible. Will he be all right?”

  “I hope so, but he’s got a long road ahead of him. We got almost all of it. With chemo and radiation, he has a very good chance of recovering, although he’ll experience some impairments due to the location of the tumor as well as the treatment.”

  “What about the hospital and your privileges?”

  “When I informed the chief of surgery of what was going on, he convinced Mr. Augustino to grant me temporary privileges to perform the surgery. He told him there was no one on the staff better qualified to handle this particular case. Because I was brought to Miami-Dade for a similar surgery in the past, Augustino gave the green light.”

  “I’m so glad he let you do it. What about the cost? Sofia was so upset about that.”

  “We’re working on that. She’s not going to have to pay for anything.”

  I brush the hair back from his forehead and let the silky strands run through my fingers. “When you think about it, maybe everything that happened in New York was so you could be there today to encounter a boy who needed you.”

  “Or,” he says, nuzzling my neck and rolling my earlobe between his teeth, “it was meant to happen so I could find you.”

  “You’re making my knees weak.”

  “We can’t have that.” He tightens his arm around my waist and lifts me off my feet.

  I hold on to him as he transports us to my sofa where he gently deposits me before stretching out next to me. His arm encircles me, and I slide my leg between his. We come together effortlessly, as though this is a dance we’ve done together many times before. It feels right to be here with him, to touch him and kiss him, even if so much is still uncertain.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask, noting his pensive expression.

  “So many things, but first and foremost that I want you to be comfortable with whatever happens between us.”

  I press myself tighter against him. “I’m very comfortable.”

  He groans and buries his face in my hair, seeming to breathe me in. “You know what I mean, Carmen.”

  “I do, and because you care about the fact that this is the first time I’ve done anything like this since my husband died makes me far more comfortable than I’d be with anyone else.”

  “The thought of you with someone else makes me a little ragey, if I’m being honest.”

  I like hearing that he has a possessive side to him—more than I probably should. “Does it?”

  “It does.”

  “Desiree Rivera gave me her card and asked me to pass it along to you.”

  “Did she?”

  “Uh-huh. I ripped it up.”

  Laughing, he smooths his hand up and down my back as he gazes at me with eyes that see me, Carmen, not the sad young woman who lost her husband too soon. That’s who everyone else in my world sees when they look at me.

  I draw him into another kiss, using my lips, tongue and hands to tell him exactly what I want. I don’t want him to have any doubts that I’m right where I want to be.

  One kiss becomes two and then another. We tug at clothes as desire strikes an urgent need in both of us. My robe is untied and removed. The T-shirt clears my head as I pull at his shirt, trying to get to his chest without tearing the buttons off. The sensation of my bare breasts pressed against his chest takes my breath away.

  I forgot how it feels to be consumed by desire. I forgot what it’s like to be touched by a man who wants me the way Jason does. This part of me has been sealed off for years. Jason is bringing the sensual side of me back to life one kiss and caress at a time. He cups my breasts and runs his thumbs over the tight points of my nipples.

  “You’re so lovely, sweet Carmen. I thought so the first time I saw you looking so prim and proper in your suit as you waited for me to arrive the other day.”

  I arch into him, wanting more of what he’s doing to my breasts. “I wasn’t prim or proper.”

  “You were both those things and so much more. I was immediately intrigued by you. I wanted to know everything about you.”

  “I thought you were with Betty.”

  He shakes his head before lowering it to
take my nipple into the heat of his mouth. “I was never with her.”

  I grasp a handful of his hair to keep him from getting away, not that he’s trying to. The rush of emotion is so intense it forms an ache in my heart, which has taken such a beating in the past. Not that I want to think about that when every part of me is engaged in what he’s doing to my nipples. He kisses a path down the front of me, dipping his tongue into my belly button, making me cry out from the craving need he inspires in me.

  “So sexy,” he whispers, his warm breath against my skin setting off goose bumps that make me shiver with delight.

  Back when I was newly widowed, I used to try to picture being with someone else this way, and I never could get far enough past the agony to see it actually happening. I imagined it would be awkward, that I would cry, that I’d regret it afterward. But there’s nothing awkward about being with Jason, and I already know I’m not going to regret it. Whether or not there’ll be tears remains to be seen.

  Jason’s golden eyes go dark with desire when he sees the white cotton bikini panties I intentionally wore under the T-shirt. “So fucking sexy,” he says in a low growl as he cups me over the panties, pressing his fingers against my clit and making me squirm as I chase an orgasm that feels so close. “I knew you’d be impossibly sexy in white cotton.”

  I release a ragged laugh as the orgasm lingers just out of reach.

  “Easy, love. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you hanging.”

  As the panties slide down my legs, I close my eyes and try to prepare for whatever is about to happen. But nothing could prepare me for the slide of his lips up my inner leg or the press of his fingers against my incredibly sensitive flesh. He’s barely touched me, and I’m about to combust.

  His lips continue their journey up my leg while I hold my breath in anticipation. He arranges me so my legs are splayed open, making me thankful for the time I spent with my razor earlier. And when he opens me to his tongue, I’m completely lost to the dazzling array of sensations that overwhelm me to the point of madness. His fingers are deep inside me as his tongue swirls over my clit.

  Dear God, I can barely breathe, and then he sucks hard on my clit. I scream from the powerful release that rocks me. I’ve barely recovered my senses when he starts the whole thing over again, taking me up so quickly I’m coming a second time before I know what’s hit me. My body is a quivering, trembling collection of nerve endings, every one of them tuned to him. I hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper in the second before he covers me, kisses me with lips that taste of me and pushes into me a little at a time while staring down at my face with sexy golden eyes that ruin me.

  “God, Carmen,” he says on a long exhale. “Nothing has ever felt this good. Ever.” He holds me close to him, his lips pressed to the pressure point in my neck as he works his way inside me. “Talk to me. Tell me how you feel.”

  “I feel . . . full.”

  He laughs softly while leaving a line of kisses along my collarbone. “Does it hurt?”

  “No.” I raise my legs and wrap them around his hips, which sends him deeper into me. “Feels so good.”

  His low groan makes me shiver as he grips my ass to tilt me for an even better angle. I dig my fingers into the muscles of his back, needing to hold on to him, to keep him close, to ride the waves of this exquisite perfection for as long as I possibly can.

  He tightens his arms around me and picks up the pace. “Carmen.” The face that has become so dear to me in the time we’ve spent together is tight with tension. His eyes are heated as he gazes at me, and his lips are swollen from our frantic kisses.

  I tighten my internal muscles around his cock, and he groans in the second before he pushes deep into me to find his release.

  “Holy shit, woman,” he says, gasping. “You finished me off before I had the chance to tend to you.”

  “You tended to me beforehand.”

  “Still . . . I don’t want you feeling cheated.”

  “Trust me. That’s the last thing I feel right now.”

  He kisses my cheek and the end of my nose before finding my lips in another soft, sweet, sexy kiss. “What’re you feeling right now?”

  “Wiped out. Exhilarated. Happy. Relieved.”

  His left brow lifts ever so slightly. “You’re relieved?”

  “I didn’t cry.”

  “Did you think you might?”

  “I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

  He brushes a strand of hair back from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “Thank you for choosing me to take this big step with you. I’m honored to be the first.”

  My eyes fill, but these aren’t sad tears. They’re “life goes on” tears, and yes, that’s a thing. “I’m glad I waited for you.”

  “I’m so glad you did, too.”

  Thinking about him possibly leaving if the board doesn’t grant privileges leaves me feeling deflated.

  He traces the outline of my mouth with his fingertip. “What caused the frown?”

  “Did I frown?”

  Nodding, he kisses me until I smile again. “What’re you thinking?”

  “About how we’re starting something without knowing where you’ll be in a month.”

  “And that worries you.”

  “Kind of. I don’t go around having sex with random people.”

  He scowls playfully. “I would hope not.”

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is that this, what we did, spending time together . . . It means something to me.”

  “It does to me, too. Like I said, from the first minute I saw you waiting for me outside the hospital, I was interested. And then when I had to bail you out of jail—”

  I slap his back lightly. “Stop! Oh my God! You can’t make that part of our story.”

  “Too late. It’s already one of the best parts of our story. I’ll never forget how cute you were in that cell while you tried not to freak the fuck out.”

  “I was freaking the fuck out! From the second the cop stopped me.”

  Laughter lights up his face and makes my mouth water with lust. I already want him again. “Cutest jailbird I ever met.”

  I cover my ears. “Lalalala. I can’t hear you, and if you ever tell my grandmothers or parents that I was in jail, I’ll never speak to you again.”

  “I do so love a juicy bit of blackmail. I suppose you’ll have to continue kissing me, frequently, to ensure my silence.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  He points to his lips. “Better to not risk it.”

  Scowling, I push my lips hard against his.

  Rocking with silent laughter, he wraps an arm around my neck to keep me anchored to him. “Yes,” he says, his words muffled, “like that, only sweeter.” He works on me until I yield to his persuasive lips and tongue, lost in a sea of desire that overtakes me once again.

  I can’t get enough of him or the way he makes me feel. I forgot the euphoric high that comes with connecting to someone this way. He withdraws only long enough to roll on a new condom before rejoining our bodies. As he makes love to me again, I surrender completely to the experience and the shuddering orgasm that rocks through both of us at the same time.

  “You’ve bought my silence for another hour, sweet Carmen.” His words, whispered against my neck, make me smile as I run my fingers through his hair.

  I come back to reality slowly, my heart and mind resisting anything that would take me out of the most perfect moment I’ve experienced since I lost Tony. I glance at the clock. It’s ten fifty-five.

  “The news. We have to watch. They’re going to air the interview.”

  He groans. “I don’t want to watch it.”

  I give his shoulder a gentle push. “We have to watch it.”

  “Ugh.” He withdraws from me and sits back against my sofa, blatantly unashamed of his nakedness while I’m hit with a fierce bout of shyness as I grasp my discarded T-shirt from the floor and put it back on. I turn on the TV to NBC 6 and scurry to the bathroom to clean
up.

  My hair is a wild nest of curls, mascara is smudged under my eyes and my lips are red and swollen from desperate kisses. I look as if I’ve been thoroughly ravished, and I decide it’s a good look on me. I clean the makeup off my face, put my wild hair up in a bun and use the toilet before rejoining him in the living room.

  I’m praying this interview doesn’t make anything worse.

  CHAPTER 17

  CARMEN

  While I was gone, he put on his boxers. He stands to kiss me before taking a turn in the bathroom.

  “Jason, hurry. They just said we’re going to meet Miami’s newest neurosurgeon after the break.”

  When he returns, I notice the tension is back in his shoulders and face. He sits next to me but keeps a bit of distance between us, as if steeling himself for whatever he’s about to see and hear.

  I place a hand on his back, wishing there was something more I could do to put him at ease.

  He gifts me with a small smile while keeping his eyes on the TV.

  “Our own Desiree Rivera spent some time today with Dr. Jason Northrup, Miami’s newest pediatric neurosurgeon, and learned he’s already making an impact in our community. Desiree?”

  “Thank you, Jim, and indeed you’re right about that. I met Dr. Northrup today at the Our Lady of Charity free clinic in Little Havana where he was spending the day volunteering his time and expertise to a wide range of patients. But his day at the clinic took an unexpected turn when Sofia Diaz and her son, Mateo, arrived, hoping to be seen by the doctor.”

  Desiree’s live shot cuts to the footage she and her team recorded at the clinic, which shows Jason with patients and the line outside the door. It then shifts to Miami-Dade and an interview with Sofia Diaz, who’s weeping as she details the surgery Jason performed on her son.

  “He’s been very sick.” Sofia dabs at her eyes with a tissue as she speaks in halting English. “I hoped the doctor would tell me he had a virus, but Dr. Northrup took one look at my Mateo and called for rescue to bring him to Miami-Dade. They did an MRI and found he had a cancerous brain tumor. Dr. Northrup operated on him, and . . .” Her voice breaks. “He saved his life,” she says in a soft whisper.