Playboy Doctor (Heartthrob Heroes, Book 2)

by Kimberly Llewellyn

  The car pulled up to the townhouse. With Shayne by her side, Willow stepped out of the vehicle and forced her weary muscles to walk up to his front door. She sucked in a shuddering breath and tried to pull herself together. But her anguish rested with the inconsolable mother. What had started as a twist of the heart turned into a full-blown throb.

  The guilt behind today's tragedy came at her full force. The quick emotional bond between the despairing mother and her had opened up a long held-down loneliness that she could no longer endure. She needed to stop the lonely edge before its darkness completely consumed her. She needed connection. To hold onto something good. To cling to something right. She needed intimacy, emotional and physical, to grasp something real. Someone real.

  All it took was Shayne's touch to the small of her back to have her spiraling down to one simple fact. She needed him. The gentle pressure of Shayne's hand against her body erupted the tamped down desire only he could satisfy. He'd been there for her, stayed by her side during her meltdown in the Serenity Garden.

  Slowly, Willow turned to him. He brought his other hand to her hip, holding her captive. She felt safe in his arms.

  "Shayne, thank you, for being there for me today back in the garden and listening to me talk of babies and rant about my ex-husband."

  "I only did what I thought you needed," he offered.

  "Which is more than I was ever given in my whole marriage."

  "The guy was a self-centered cad."

  "Yes. But you... being there meant a lot to me. I don't know what I would have done if..." Shayne rested his lips on top of her head. She sank into his hold, reaching for the intimacy she so desperately craved.

  "I need you." She'd never been so forward with a man, but she could no longer deny her desire for Shayne.

  Shayne nuzzled her in a tight embrace. "I need you, too, if you'll have me."

  Joy edged out the shadow of loneliness.

  They'd barely made it into the front foyer when Shayne embraced her once again. She allowed it. She needed to feel him, to be held and consoled and loved. Even if only for tonight.

  Shayne crushed his lips against hers in a heart-melting kiss. A hotness shot down through her belly and pooled low within her. She indulged in the rare treat. When he drew his lips to her neck and planted searing kisses across her skin, she moaned in pleasure. Shayne's mouth on her made her senses skyrocket. She'd already grown addicted to the heat he sparked within her.

  "I know I should stop," he uttered between hot kisses.

  "No, don't, please," she said.

  "I want you, but I don't want to take advantage of you. You're vulnerable."

  "I don't see it that way."

  Shayne drew his lips to hers in another long kiss, offering a promise of pleasures to come. And she'd take it. She still needed to come to terms with her internal chaos. And come to terms with the circumstances of her life. But right now, she only needed Shayne.

  "I want to forget today. How I let that mother down. How I crumbled in the Serenity Garden, right in front of you of all people."

  "That's your humanness coming out, remember? Isn't that how you put it to me? It's part of our coping process if we're to keep doing what we do."

  His words sank into the depths of her heart. Perhaps being given permission to be human just this once allowed her to seek solace in his arms. She'd been alone too long. She didn't want to be alone now.

  "You help me cope." Her words rolled off her tongue in a whisper.

  He responded with a squeeze of his arms around her. His body pressed into hers. She drew her gaze to his, searching his eyes for some answer to what was happening between them. Were they just two wrecked souls responding to a desperate situation? They'd grown closer, yes, but right now they were two people alone who needed each other.

  She wanted this. She knew he wanted it, too. They were both reaching for an intimacy, a bond to remind them that life still thrived. And it thrived inside of them. She needed to share this desire for intimacy with Shayne, the only man who'd seen her for who she really was. A woman hurt but longed to heal. Shayne had come to her looking to heal as well. But the hunger in his eyes told her so much more. She saw the desire, the want. She'd seen it all along. Like a man longing for something he could never have. He could have her now.

  "I'm glad I'm with you tonight," she murmured.

  "I'm glad, too. I'm here for you. But I wouldn't trust me. You don't know what I'm capable of."

  "I know exactly what you're capable of. You're there for people when they need you, Shayne. I need you now."

  "And you know what I need right now?" He gave her a sultry grin.

  "What's that?"

  "A long, hot shower. I don't want to take it alone."

  He took her face in his hands and crushed his lips against hers. He broke from the kiss. "You don't know how long I've been wanting this."

  "Probably not as long as I have," she replied in a sudden release of delight.

  "Still, no promises of tomorrow."

  "I'm learning real fast to live in the here and now," she rasped. She'd grown accustomed to uncertainty, tonight was no different. She'd already come to terms with the fragile building blocks of life and knew to grab hold of what fate presented her... with whatever Shayne offered her, great or small.

  In a bold gesture, she drew her hands down the length of his torso. His ensuing groan prodded her to stroke him where he'd already become hard. His hips leaned forward, his ever-hardening length responded the way she liked. Unexpectedly, she relished wielding this sexual influence over him. And he hadn't even taken off his clothes yet.

  "You're going to bring me to my knees if you..." A masculine moan overtook him. "Willow, you're already too dangerous for me."

  His response made her smile but she took his cue and eased her grip. She wanted to savor their time together. She wanted to savor him for as long as possible. And she wanted to be savored right back. To be wanted. To be desired.

  Shayne reached under her scrub top and cupped the curve her breast. Over the lace of her bra, he palmed her, his fingertips massaging her. His sensual kneading only made her want him more.

  "I have to touch you again... can't keep my hands off you. I guess that makes me selfish." With deft fingers, this time she fully gripped the length of his hardness, hating the barrier of his pants, keeping her from what she had to have. She wanted her hands on his body. Feel just how much he desired her. Shayne groaned, throaty and feral. The hardness pressing into her hand heightened her own sexual awareness.

  "Your selfishness will be the end of me," he growled. "There's only one thing we can do."

  "What's that?" she asked.

  "Get you into that hot shower and soap you down once and for all."

  His hand still under her scrub top, he reached under her bra and grazed a thumb over her nipple, making it tighten to a nub. Willow moaned. He responded by twisting the tip between his finger and thumb. The sensation zapped a sharp heat to the crux of her thighs. Startled by the overwhelming sensation, she drew in a raspy breath of surprise. She needed more. She arched into him. Apparently, Shayne was just as selfish when it came to exploring her body to see how she'd react. And her body reacted freely. Never had she responded this way—or so hotly—to a man before.

  Within minutes, Willow stood with Shayne under a good soaking stream of water in the shower. Steam heat billowed around her as Shayne slowly stroked every soapy, sudsy inch of her body. Finally, the man she'd longed to hold was now holding onto her. Shayne had transformed from a demanding boss with a playboy reputation to an unselfish lover, lavishing his undivided attention on her. She never imagined the moment she first laid eyes on him that she'd be with him behind steam-filled glass, flesh against flesh. And she couldn't be happier.

  Shayne took his time to learn the curves of her body as he caressed and cleansed her. She followed his lead, learning with her hands, his muscled physique. She explored the planes of his chest, down to his abdomen, then follow
ing the hairline trail leading to the hardness at his hips.

  He drew her hand away, then tucked it behind her back, holding her captive. "No wandering hands for you, young lady, or you'll leave me ruined before I'm done with you."

  "But that's not fair. How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you?" she pouted.

  "I never said I was fair." Following a satisfied grin, he kissed her before leaning her against the shower wall.

  With skilled fingers, Shayne stroked the soft pink folds between her parted thighs—just enough to tease her and melt her insides. She took pleasure in his tantalizing touch. Soon his rhythmic caressing roused a torturous ache at her V. His feather light strokes evoked a sexual greed in her. She wanted more. She expressed her need through her panting. His strokes sent shudders through her. She couldn't take the pleasurable teasing a moment longer. Not when the ache would make her too weak-kneed to stand. She was about to insist that he make her come once and for all when he dipped two fingers inside her. A shocked breath escaped her. Shocked at how quickly the mounting heat low in her hips had become overbearing.

  But then he stopped the sensual torment long enough to kiss her. How could he do this to her?

  "Shayne, please, I need the release."

  "Not yet, love."

  And still he teased as he pumped two fingers inside her. She'd wanted to savor this but the holding back became too much. Every fiber of her being hummed with hunger for this man.

  Willow uttered his name and her thighs quivered. He brought out his fingers, along with her wetness. His fingers slick, he resumed his sensual caress to her most intimate spot until each stroke became stronger, faster, more rhythmic. Her flesh so swollen and full, she was at the brink.

  "Shayne—" she began, but then paused to endure the undulating waves surging through her. She wanted to show restraint but this was Shayne she dealt with. Any sexual lashing he dished out would make her knees buckle.

  "I want to see you lose control right here in my arms."

  "I wanted this to last," she rasped. "But you make it impossible."

  A throaty chuckle made Shayne's chest rumble. "Don't worry, love, we've got all night to do this again and again."

  His deft fingers, pulsing and circling the tight bundle of inflamed nerves at the crux of her thighs, sent an erotic ball of hotness contracting deep within her. She could no longer fight the all-consuming waves of pleasure erupting inside her. The bolt of heat bore through her like a white-hot lightning strike. She cried out.

  Never had she felt anything so deeply. Never had she experienced such strong pulses razing her.

  Willow's hips greedily thrust against Shayne's hand while he murmured of her loveliness, making her feel safe and free while the orgasm took hold of her. Drenched in desire, she clung to him, holding on for dear life, enduring the delightfully tortuous pleasure until its very last burning spasm.

  "Shayne, I've never felt this way..." she panted, too overcome to say anymore.

  Thank goodness he held her or she would have collapsed like a ragdoll to the shower floor. She buried her head into his shoulder, loving his embrace under the hot pulsing shower that mingled with even hotter pulses still deep within her womb.

  Between her labored breaths, she heard him whisper, "I've never felt this way, either."

  Chapter 14

  Shayne would have made Willow writhe and cry out in the steamy shower all night, but a hot driving need to be inside her compelled him to take her to his bed.

  Having her cling to him in the shower, having her buck against his hand, had been too much for him. He needed to meld his body with hers and love her in a more intimate, and admittedly possessive, way. Unapologetic in his desire for her, he intended to take her as she gave herself willingly.

  He wrapped a towel around her only long enough to bring her to the bed.

  The smell of her clean skin mingling with the scent of her sex was enough to drive him over the edge. He showered hot kisses upon her shoulder, inhaling the very essence of her. His kisses led him to her collarbone, and then nibbled down to the curve of her breast.

  Hungry to taste every inch of her, he drew her breast into his mouth and sucked with a long, lingering pull. Willow responded with an aching gasp, murmuring his name, arching her back to give even more fully of herself. He focused on the nipple, flicking it with his tongue, then twining, loving it until it plumped in his mouth. He lavished the same attention to her other breast, all the while, Willow's urgent fingertips spiked through his hair.

  He drew back, seeing if she were real. Dewy skin. Translucent irises. Through hooded eyes, her long lashes shuttered. Not a lick of makeup, her natural beauty came through her cheeks, rosy hued from her sexual response to him.

  "Shayne, I have to feel you inside me," she demanded through a throaty purr.

  He needed to feel her, too. Feel her flesh surround his heat soon or else he'd explode in a release before he even entered her. Even he had his limits as to what a man could handle when a beautiful creature writhed hotly—impatient and demanding—under him.

  Her hips rocked, finding their way under his taut shaft, demanding to feel him.

  If he didn't hold back, he feared his own response to her. So he had to take care—didn't want to come off as brutal, his desire for her was that fierce. He wanted to ravish her and release the pent-up need that had been torturing his insides since the moment he'd first laid eyes on her. Yes, he'd wanted her, but he never dreamed he'd have her.

  He held back his primal urge to simply take her; a deeper part of him wanted her to be indulged, pleasured, and cherished. He had to push aside his selfish needs so he could focus on her. Tenderly. Carefully. Lovingly. She was to be treasured.

  "Shayne, now," she demanded again while he lapped at a breast.

  His senses couldn't take her pleas and demands a moment longer—not when her needs came off as fierce as his own—and carnal instincts took over. He took care of the condom. Finally his hips lowered toward hers. No turning back. He hesitated, knowing that once he was inside her, he'd unleash a wanting of her that couldn't be reined in.

  "Now, damn it," she demanded again.

  His tip, stretched tightly from the fullness of his arousal, pierced her at her V. She sucked in a ragged breath. Her feminine flesh puckered around his shaft, making her tight to enter. He didn't stop. He entered her more deeply. Rhythmically. Her tightness massaged him, her slick heat working him in a sexual frenzy. His need to drive into her hard became all the more fierce. A need to consume her. A need to overpower and claim her as his own.

  He heard her shriek the words, need you and more and now.

  In the purest of pleasures, he pumped into her hard, reaching the ridge deep within her, his own hips pistoning in a more powerful way that made Willow cry out, low and throaty. Her needful cries drew out a deeper response to continue pumping, giving her what she demanded. And giving him what he needed—he needed her.

  Shayne's taut muscles contracted in a final, forceful release as he drove into her one last time, slamming his hips against hers, claiming her as his own once and for all, making her one with him. For now. Forever.

  Forever?

  That's when he realized it.

  He was the one being claimed.

  Afterward, he held her in his arms, feeling the rise and fall of her chest with her every breath. Listening to her sweet breaths while she slept. Smelling the scent of her, a woman content and loved. Loving Willow had been amazing. No other woman had managed to work him into such a sexually and emotionally frantic state the way she had.

  Her body was a carnival of delights. A visual treat that he enjoyed watching while she thrashed in delight underneath him. How he loved to watch her in the throes of pleasure. How he loved to make her squirm and squeal. How he loved to make her happy. How he loved loving her.

  She possessed some power over him, some soothing hold that calmed him, but also a sensual hold that drove him mad with desire. With Willow, life made sense. The
world around him made sense. And yet, even in the quiet of the night, his inner demons never seemed to fade.

  * * *

  The next morning, in a silken haze of desire and satisfaction, Willow leaned against Shayne in bed, her body spent and aching from a night of lovemaking, her heart full.

  Bathed in morning sunlight streaming in from the window, Shayne slept soundly, the sunbeams carving out the angles of his muscles. She snuggled against him. Moments later, a gentle stroke to her hair indicated that Shayne had awakened as well. The warmth of his skin radiated toward her. The musk of him filled her head, making its mark on her. His calm breathing was a far cry from his labored breaths last night during his efforts to please her. Efforts she'd greedily accepted.

  She relished lolling in bed with him, his arm draped over her. But now, the morning light illuminated the inner doubt she'd cast aside while in his arms the previous evening.

  "Why me, Shayne?" she whispered.

  He responded with a gentle hug. "Why not you? You're the most amazing woman I've ever known."

  If he were lying, she didn't care. She would believe anything that came from his lips after the magical time they'd shared.

  "But I've seen photos of you in society columns passed around the hospital. I'd heard the rumors. You were dating a popular British starlet. One article stated you two were a hot item."

  "Tabloids have a way of padding a story."

  "So, you're not dating her?"

  "I was her escort one night for a heart foundation's gala. Her niece was my patient. She'd had a heart transplant and so the starlet became a spokesperson for the organization."

  "Oh, really?" Willow's expression lightened, as though she saw him for the first time. "I hadn't heard that part."

  "That's the problem with rumors," he remarked, "you only get half of the story. And I've allowed it. Letting people believe what they want allows me to focus on my work. Besides, it's easier than chasing down every whisper of my alleged womanizing."

  "So you know all about your reputation? And you simply let stories fly?"