The Doctor Who Has No Chance (Soulless Book 11)

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The Doctor Who Has No Chance (Soulless Book 11) Page 13

by Victoria Quinn


  Before he made it to the table, a woman intercepted him, a very pretty woman.

  I turned away and tried not to stare. I didn’t want to watch some hot woman hit on Dex. He probably got hit on all the time, and I just had to make my peace with it.

  “Sorry, I’ve got a woman.” He gave her a thumbs-up before he approached the table. “A bangin’ babe who’s got one hell of an ass. I’m all set.” He fell into the chair beside me, and his arm moved around my waist as he pulled me in for a kiss. Then he groped my right tit a bit.

  I gave him a playful smack. “Whoa, let’s settle down.”

  He chuckled and turned back to his sister. “Sorry. Hard not to.” Like nothing happened, he dived his hand back into the basket of fries. “What were you guys talking about?”

  Daisy looked at him. “That you’re a moron.”

  Dex turned to me. “But a hot moron, right? Because I’ll take it.”

  Dex caressed my body with kisses all the time, getting me naked in his bed so he could press his face against my tits and kiss the valley between my breasts. His arm was hooked between my thighs, over my ass, his palm against my lower back. It was something he just enjoyed, kissing my naked body, tasting me, enjoying me without trying to take it further. “Fuck, you’re sexy.” His hands grabbed at me, gripping my ass, my thigh, pulling me closer into him so he could kiss me as hard as possible. Whenever my nipples were in his mouth, he sucked hard on purpose, making them ache at his rough ministrations. Then he kissed my stomach, my shoulder, my collarbone, turning normal areas into erogenous zones.

  All I had to do was lie there and watch this perfect man enjoy me, kiss me like there had never been another woman who turned him on more, let him make me feel loved without him saying a word.

  He was all muscle and smooth skin, with an eight-pack that was so tight he appeared to be flexing all the time when he did nothing at all. He had a firm and muscular ass, toned and lean legs, big shoulders that blocked the view of the ceiling when he was on top of me.

  I remembered a conversation in the hallway at the Trinity Building, when he’d comforted me so effortlessly, and I’d never imagined I would have this man the way I did now. I never imagined that he would be mine.

  That he would want me to be his.

  I lifted him up to my mouth so he could kiss my lips instead, leaving my raw nipples and tits marked with hickeys. My mouth opened and allowed his tongue to slide inside, to greet mine in perfect unison, the two of us moaning together like it was the first time we’d ever kissed.

  His hand left my ass, the inside of his forearm soaked from where it had rested against my pussy, and he dug his hand into my hair as he moved farther on top of me.

  My legs opened, and I pulled him against me, bringing his dick against my wet entrance, feeling it give an automatic twitch in excitement. My hand gripped his hard ass, and I dug my nails into his flesh as I looked into his face, so aroused I couldn’t think straight anymore. He’d pulled down my walls and left my heart vulnerable once again, and the past seemed to be buried where it belonged—in the past.

  He ended the kiss and looked at me, reading my eyes.

  I tugged him against me, lifting my pelvis to silently tell him what I wanted—that I wanted him to slide inside me.

  The intensity in his eyes was the same he’d shown countless times in the past, but this was deeper than every look that came before it, like nothing in the world would stop him from making me his.

  Without discussion, he pointed himself at my entrance and slid inside. It was a smooth glide because I was so anxious, ready to feel that fullness no other man could replicate. When he was completely sheathed, sunk deep inside me, he released a quiet moan, his hips automatically grinding against me, his pelvis rubbing against my throbbing clit.

  My arms hooked over his back, my thighs squeezed his hips, and I moaned at the way he stretched me, the unison between our bodies, how perfect we felt combined. It felt so good, so much better than last time.

  He breathed against my mouth as he looked at me, slightly rocking his hips like he was getting used to how incredible it felt. His breathing slowly escalated, his body tightened, and then he started to move. “Baby…”

  I lay there and shook with his thrusts, my nails clawing him, my breathing deep and uneven, my moans coming out louder and louder. We didn’t share a kiss, but we looked deep into each other’s eyes as he made love to me.

  The pleasure hit me hard, and the tears sprang from the corners of my eyes. I writhed underneath him, convulsed like I was in pain, bucked against him because I wanted every inch of that dick for the rest of my life.

  His thrusts increased in intensity to make me come long and hard, to make it last so my toes would curl and my pussy would squeeze his dick so hard it bruised it. He groaned through my climax, like he was fighting every instinct to join me. The perfect gentleman, he waited until I was completely finished with my pleasure before he would let go.

  “Okay…okay.” I tugged on his ass and pulled him inside me, wanting him to get his release after resisting with all his strength.

  He groaned in my face as he finished, his dick hardening slightly before he released, pressing his body farther into mine as he gave me a load bigger than he ever had. His moans continued after he was finished, after his dick started to soften inside me.

  I couldn’t believe I’d waited so long for something so good. “Please don’t stop…”

  He rested his forehead against mine, breathing through the exertion, sweat on his forehead and chest. But my words made him hard again and he started back up, his dick getting rock hard, harder than it’d been earlier, and he kept going as if there had been no interruption.

  When I stepped into his office, Dex was leaning against his desk, his face turned to look at the wall of photos I’d hung up when we first opened the place. His hand cupped his chin, and his fingers moved slowly over his jawline, like he was deep in thought, so absorbed that he didn’t even hear me step inside.

  I came closer until I was directly in front of him. “What are you thinking about?”

  He turned at the sound of my voice, regarding me instead of the photographs. “Our trip in a couple weeks.”

  I couldn’t believe I was going to Africa. Never in a million years had I thought something like that would happen. “Yeah?”

  “I’m worried what will happen when I arrive.”

  “Meaning?”

  He shrugged. “Just a lot of patients. More than I can handle. I’m not there long enough.” He turned back to look at the photos again. “Just wish there was something more I could do…”

  I stared at his side profile, seeing his mind working furiously through his eyes. This was the very reason Zach and I could never work. The only time Zach wore a look like that was when he was thinking about his next payday. All Dex cared about was helping people—plain and simple. I’d rather live in a shack with Dex than a penthouse with Zach. “Is there more that you could do?”

  He shook his head. “Other than moving there, not really.”

  “But what if you set up permanent health care there? Like some kind of partnership with Doctors Without Borders? Even a hospital?”

  He absorbed what I said while keeping his eyes on the photos. Then he slowly turned to me and stared at me just as long.

  Dex didn’t have a personality disorder, but he definitely had two different personalities. Off the clock, he was carefree, flirtatious, outgoing. But when he was on the clock, he was quiet, contemplative, serious…intense. I loved both versions of him. “That’s…not a terrible idea.” He stared me down for a long time.

  “It would require a lot of funding, but maybe it could work.”

  He nodded slowly. “It would be easier if it were a for-profit company so it could be self-sufficient, but I don’t see how that would happen.”

  “Unless it provided some other kinds of services. But I don’t see how that would work.”

  “Other services?” He continu
ed to think in silence. “Other services…coffee.”

  I stared at him blankly.

  “Some of the world’s best coffee comes from there. Maybe we could get funding to set up coffee farms, people pay for the coffee, and all that money goes to run the hospital, which would be set up as tax-free because it’s a nonprofit. We could make it an American corporation to utilize all the loopholes.”

  “How would we get people to work the farms?”

  “We would pay them. Just a regular job.”

  “You think that could work?”

  “I think we could at least try to get it organized and see what happens.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that.” It was another project on top of all my other responsibilities, but I was happy to do it because I knew it meant the world to him. If he could spend his life just making the world a better place, even if he never got paid for it, he would do it in a heartbeat.

  He dropped his hand from his jaw, so his arms rested across his waist. Then he just stared at me.

  “What?”

  He continued his stare.

  I stepped closer, stopping when our legs touched.

  His eyes remained glued to mine. “I never thought I would be happy again, let alone happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

  I flinched at the confession, because it meant more to me than when he said he loved me.

  “I hope I can make you feel the same way…someday.”

  My hands moved to his arms, and I leaned in closer, my forehead resting against his. “You already have.”

  I sat at the front desk, my eyes down on my computer.

  “My son treating you right?”

  I looked up to see Deacon standing over me, in his blue scrubs, wearing a slight smile on his lips. “Yes, he is.”

  “Good.” He stepped back. “I thought I’d see if he was free for lunch.”

  Dex’s voice came from his office. “Only if I get to pick.”

  Deacon smiled then turned toward the office. “Fine.”

  Dex came out of his office a moment later. “I hope I don’t get arrested. You know, since you’re on the Most Wanted list and everything.”

  Deacon’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, but he also looked amused. “You know what? Now I get to pick.”

  “Okay, okay.” Dex raised his hands in defeat. “Let’s not go crazy here.”

  Deacon turned to me. “Would you like to join us?”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You two have a good time—”

  “Baby, get your ass up.” Dex leaned over the counter toward me. “Where I go, you go, right?”

  My eyes softened when he echoed my own words back to me. “Okay.”

  Dex turned back to his dad. “She’s crazy about me, isn’t she?”

  Deacon chuckled. “She’s gotta be to put up with you.”

  We went to a restaurant just a block away and sat together at a table. Deacon sat across from his son, his blue scrubs similar to the ones Dex wore at the hospital. The shirt had a deep cut in the front, showing that he was ripped just like Dex.

  If that was how Dex would look when he was older, lucky me.

  A black wedding ring was on his left hand, thick and bulky, like he wanted it to be as visible as possible.

  He scanned the menu before he set it aside.

  Dex had his arm over the back of my chair, showing affection like he was sitting across from a friend instead of his father. “I’m getting the pizza. What about you?”

  “The Cobb salad.”

  He nodded. “Then we’ll split the pizza.”

  “Oh, I’m fine with the salad,” I said.

  He looked at me and scrunched his eyebrows together. “Baby, how are you gonna stay so damn fine if you’re eating salads all the time?”

  I couldn’t believe he said that in front of his father.

  Deacon looked away, but instead of appearing uncomfortable, he had a slight smile on his lips, like it was actually amusing.

  I didn’t want to discuss my curves in front of his father, so I just let it go. “Sure.”

  He looked at his menu again. “The classic pepperoni good?”

  “Yeah.”

  He set the menu on the table, the waitress came over, and we ordered everything, and then we were left at the table, our stomachs rumbling.

  Deacon looked decades younger than he really was, but he definitely had more of a brooding nature to him, like he was constantly angry about something. Or maybe he was just thinking about something all the time.

  “So, what are you and Mom up to?” Dex asked.

  “Babysitting this weekend.” Deacon regarded his son, one arm resting on the table while the other was over the back of the other chair.

  “What the hell?” Dex asked. “Why’d they ask you instead of me?”

  “You want to babysit three kids all weekend?” Deacon asked incredulously.

  “Lizzie doesn’t really count…” Dex shook his head.

  “You work on Saturdays,” Deacon reminded him.

  “Oh yeah.” Dex turned to me and shrugged. “You see how much I’d forget without you?”

  I chuckled. “No joke.”

  “Come over and hang out,” Deacon offered.

  Dex turned back to me. “You wanna hang out with my nephews? They’re really cute.”

  I chuckled, loving how playful Dex was, like he wasn’t some hotshot heart surgeon. “That does sound fun.”

  “Perfect.” He turned back to his dad. “We’ll tag-team it.”

  Deacon stared at his son for a while. “When are you leaving for your trip?”

  “Two weeks,” Dex answered. “My lady is coming with me.”

  Deacon nodded. “Good. She keeps you in check.”

  “You see?” Dex turned to me. “I’d be lost without you.” He smiled at me, like this was the happiest he’d ever been, having me at his side while spending time with his dad, like I fit into his life perfectly, fit better than anyone else ever could.

  After lunch, we said goodbye on the sidewalk, Deacon’s private driver pulling up to take him back to the hospital, a blacked-out SUV.

  After Dex hugged his father goodbye, he reached into his pocket and realized what he’d forgotten. “Damn, left my phone behind. I’ll be back. See you later, Dad.” He clapped him on the arm before he headed back inside.

  I turned to Deacon. “See you later. And thank you for lunch.” He’d insisted on paying even when Dex tried to fight him over the tab.

  “My pleasure.” He hugged me the way he hugged his son, wrapping his arms around me and giving me a squeeze before he stepped back. “Thank you for giving my son another chance. You have no idea how good it feels to see our son happy again, back to his old self, back to…the man he used to be.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just stood there for a while. “You know…I’m the one who’s won the lottery, getting a chance to be with him.” Dex had hurt me and our relationship had been complicated from the beginning, but he was still the best guy in the world and I always knew that. I always knew any other man would be a downgrade.

  Softness entered Deacon’s eyes. “I appreciate that, but it’s the other way around.”

  Seventeen

  Sicily

  Life had been miserable for a long time, and then suddenly, it was good.

  But the weirdest thing of all was that it felt like it’d always been good. Like things had never gone to shit, like Dex had never hurt me, had never been married. It was like the past didn’t happen at all.

  I finally had the life I always wanted.

  We spent the week working together, making out on his couch over lunch, banging it out on his desk before we left the office—even though we were going to his place directly afterward—and just existed in this wonderful bliss.

  We went to his parents’ place that weekend, spending time with his nephews and Lizzie.

  Dex had one boy in each arm as he leaned back on the couch, looking between them. “Geez, y
ou guys get heavier and heavier every time I pick you up.” He looked at his eldest nephew. “You weigh as much as a hippo, Little Deacon.”

  His nephew giggled.

  “You guys could totally beat up your dad if you wanted to.” Dex looked back and forth between them, never happier than when he was with his family, and me, of course. “And you totally should. That would be hilarious.”

  I sat beside him and watched him juggle the two kids with no effort. They might be small, but a kid on each arm was quite a bit. Lizzie was on the other couch with Deacon, the two of them working on her homework.

  Cleo sat beside me, holding a glass of wine. “He’s great with kids, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he really is.” He was a natural at it.

  She sipped her wine as she watched her son, her eyes crinkled with subtle happiness.

  “So, how’s preschool?” Dex asked Little Deacon. “I hope you aren’t beating up the kids on the playground—” he turned to look at his dad “—like your grandpa over there…”

  Deacon turned to him and glared.

  Lizzie laughed.

  Little Deacon played with a plane in his hands, spinning it around and occasionally biting. “No,” he said with a chuckle. “We learned to swim,”

  “Wow,” Dex said. “That’s great, kid.”

  I turned to Cleo. “That’s a super-advanced three-year-old.”

  She chuckled. “You should have seen Derek when he was five. That kid was building models and holding deep and complex conversations with me like he was an adult. Emerson is gonna be singled out when she gets older.”

  “You want one?” Dex helped Little Deacon stand up so he could walk to me. “Go to Auntie Sicily.”

  My heart jumped into my throat at the title as I held my hands out to him.

  He walked right up and sat beside me. “Auntie Sic-sicily.” He continued to play with the plane. “Funny name.”

 

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