Healing Her Heart

by Audra North

  “This isn’t over, Doc,” Robert said. “We’ll pick this back up after lunch.”

  Greg moved his attention back to Robert. “Who said anything about it being over? After lunch, I’ll finish up my victory, and then you can take a nap.”

  Robert laughed and both men stood to lead the group across the hall to the dining room, but Greg lingered until he and Carrie were the only ones left in the rec room.

  “Hey.” Why was she so nervous all of a sudden?

  “Hey, yourself.”

  He looked good today. She’d been too busy this morning to coordinate one of Kate’s usual tasks for him, so she’d sent him to the rec room almost immediately after he’d arrived. But now that things had calmed a bit, she took a moment to appreciate the way his shoulders filled out the polo shirt he was wearing, the way it made him look almost relaxed. So different from yesterday. It seemed that his short time here had already helped a little.

  “I haven’t seen you much this morning.” He leaned against the doorjamb and smiled.

  “I’m sorry about that. I had to get a bunch of stuff done, fast, and only had time for short breaks. But I could use your help in the office after lunch, if you don’t mind.”

  He leaned forward a bit, and she caught a whiff of clean skin and man, for lack of a better word. “Well, I’ll have to postpone a very important chess match, but if it means I get to spend time alone with you in your office again, then no—I don’t mind.”

  The heat from his body washed over her, and the memory of yesterday’s kiss burned through her body, but she managed not to melt. Barely. “No kisses like before, though,” she whispered. “I haven’t made up my mind yet, and kissing you again will only confuse things.”

  “I’m not going to push you somewhere you don’t want to go, Carrie.” He frowned and drew back. “But are you interested? Do you want to hook up? It’s okay if you don’t. I’ll understand.”

  I am. And I do. But she couldn’t tell him the rest. That she was afraid of feeling more than lust. This time, if she got burned, it would be her own fault. And then what?

  “Just a little more time.” Something told her that her answer was going to be yes, but she wasn’t quite ready to tell him that. Not when they’d have to work alongside one another for the next few hours. If she said yes now, they might end up doing more than kissing in her office.

  He was still frowning, but he didn’t argue. “All right, I’ll give you a few more hours. But I’m not going to promise not to kiss you.”

  “I can live with that.” She couldn’t keep from smiling as she turned to walk to the dining room.

  Chapter Five

  In the dining room, Carrie waited until all the residents were eating before she grabbed her own tray and wandered over to where Greg had sat down with Robert and Arkady.

  “Mind if I join you, gentlemen?”

  Robert chuckled. “We would be honored, Carrie. Why don’t you have a seat right next to Doc over there?”

  She set her food on the table next to Greg and slid into the seat. Being this close to him and not being able to touch him was doing something to her sanity, because all she could think of was slipping her hand over his knee and stroking his thigh under the table…

  “Turns out your boyfriend isn’t such a bad apple, after all,” Robert told her, and she nearly choked on a sip of water.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Why not?” Robert asked. “He’s a good-looking guy. Smart enough. Crappy chess player, but we can’t all be Arkady, here.” Robert jerked his thumb toward the Russian, who nodded matter-of-factly. “We already know that he likes you. And it’s pretty obvious that you like him back. Why waste time?”

  Because he’s going through some kind of life crisis and wants a short-term fuck buddy, she wanted to say. But instead, she repeated, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  And why wasn’t Greg helping her out here? Under the table, she kicked him in the shin.

  “Ow!” he yelped in pain, and she felt a little bad, but at least he got the message. “Carrie is too good for me,” he told Robert, and she gave a satisfied hmph when Arkady nodded again in agreement.

  Thankfully, Greg used the opportunity to change the subject, asking Arkady, “Are you really that good a chess player?”

  Arkady shrugged. “I won the Russian Chess Championship once,” he replied, his casual confidence only serving to underscore the impressive achievement.

  “Hunh.” Greg obviously wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Great job certainly didn’t suffice. What did one say in the face of such a major achievement that wouldn’t sound trite?

  Carrie laughed. “I think we’ve all been stunned into silence, Arkady.”

  “Says the woman who won her high school backgammon championship.”

  Her jaw dropped, and she stared in astonishment at Greg. “How did you know that?”

  “You told me. Remember? The night you came in with—”

  “With Jim.” She nodded. “I remember.” That had been the night that Jim Dickerson, one of the former residents, had gone into seizure. Carrie had rushed to the hospital when the night nurse couldn’t get ahold of Jim’s family, but then they’d shown up and completely shut her out.

  She’d been standing alone in the reception hall, blinking in bewilderment after Jim’s family had barely said three words of dismissal to her, when Greg had walked by. She usually didn’t share those kinds of saddening, depressing incidents with anyone, but she’d been too wound up still from what had happened. She’d spilled everything to him.

  Somehow, he’d managed to scrounge up a backgammon board, find a quiet bench in main lobby, and spend nearly an hour playing with her. They’d chatted about everyday things, and by the time they were done, she’d felt better than she had in a long time.

  “I never asked you how you managed to take that much time away from your duties.” Even to her own ears, she sounded incredulous.

  One corner of his mouth quirked up in a sheepish smile. “I’d just finished an operation and was passing through the ER reception on my way out.”

  He’d finished an operation—which probably meant hours-long, intensive heart surgery—and despite the exhaustion he’d no doubt been feeling, he’d stayed an extra hour with her?

  Her throat felt suddenly tight, and she couldn’t speak. She stared at Greg in shocked surprise at the realization.

  Getting involved with him this week would be a bad idea. Except…she really wanted to. He would be gone in a few days, anyway, and she wanted him so much. Besides, she knew it was nothing serious. Couldn’t be.

  She’d be fine. Greg wasn’t Eddie, whom she’d thought she loved, who had lied to her. She only cared about Greg a little, and he’d made it clear that he was using her. It would end, and she’d be fine.

  Carrie tore her eyes away from Greg. So he spent a little time with you. It doesn’t mean he wants to be your boyfriend.

  She couldn’t deny it had been a surprise, though. And it had felt good, to know that someone had done such a nice thing for her. No strings attached.

  Just like what they would have this week if she said yes. Sex. Lust. Desire. No strings attached.

  She was probably going to say yes.

  Next to her, Robert cleared his throat. “So, Arkady. Did they give you anything for that win? Or is it satisfaction enough to be able to tell old guys in a nursing home that you were once the best chess player in a country that’s practically swarming with superior chess players?”

  After that, the conversation focused on chess and life in Russia, and Carrie managed to keep her hands off Greg’s leg the entire time, which she felt was even a bigger accomplishment than winning the Russian Chess Championship.

  …

  “Fuck. I’m going to send flowers to our billing department when I get back to work.” Greg flopped back in the chair and looked at the clock on Carrie’s desk. Four thirty, but it felt like he’d been sitting here for days instead of a few hours. “I
never realized how much of a pain in the ass it is to sort through all this stuff.”

  He’d spent the past four hours putting together invoices, trying to find codes for insurance claims, and calculating costs for some new equipment that Carrie wanted to order. It was tedious and boring as hell, but at least no one had died. He hadn’t felt even a hint of anxiety since this morning, in fact. He was too distracted by the prospect of seeing Carrie naked.

  She still hadn’t given him her answer, and it was killing him. Every time she looked over and smiled at him, or leaned over him to help with some complicated form, he thought about kissing her again. But even though he’d teased her about it, he was determined to honor her earlier request not to kiss her. He wanted her to want this without reservations. Without inhibitions.

  Carrie stood and came around behind him. Hands fell on his shoulders, gently rubbing. She leaned down and put her mouth close to his ear, her soft breath striking the sensitive lobe. “Only half an hour left.”

  She continued her massage, moving to his neck and dipping her fingers under the collar of his shirt. Hell yeah.

  But he forced himself to stay calm. No use getting worked up and then having to sit here for another thirty minutes with a hard-on. “Half an hour more of torture.” He wasn’t sure, though, whether he was referring to the billing work or not knowing her decision. “And then what happens?”

  He felt her hands tense, but she didn’t hesitate. “Honestly? I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

  That made him pull away and turn to face her, frowning. “What made you think I wouldn’t hold up my end of this? I said I’d come today with no expectations and let you make up your mind, and I’ve done that.”

  She immediately looked contrite. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’ve been burned in the past, and it’s hard for me…” She trailed off and shook her head. “Never mind. I’m sorry, is all.”

  Well, that was interesting. He wanted to know more, but he didn’t push her on it. She clearly didn’t want anything serious any more than he did, and besides—it was none of his business.

  He nodded. “You didn’t think I’d be here, but I am. I’ll ask again. What happens at the end of the day?”

  This time, she did hesitate, blinking at him as though confused.

  No. No way was she going to put him off any longer. If she said no, that was one thing. At least it was an answer. But she owed him something. And he’d been trying hard to keep from pressuring her, to keep his hands off her…

  Aw, fuck it. He stood, reaching an arm out at the same time to pull her to him. She came easily, offering her mouth to him without question, their tongues tangling in a hot, wet dance. Her arms went around his neck, and he deepened the kiss until she moaned and he pulled his mouth away.

  But he didn’t let go of her.

  “Tell me, Carrie. What happens next?”

  Chapter Six

  Forty-five minutes ago, Greg had asked her what happened next, and she’d said, You can follow me home.

  She’d known for certain after only five minutes of watching Greg work on those claims and invoices that she was going to say yes. It wasn’t merely because of the intensity he poured into everything he did, or because his smile made her nerves flutter with anticipation. It was because he’d done what he’d said he was going to do.

  He’d stuck around, and it had made her trust him enough to say yes to a meaningless fling. Now they were in their respective cars, and he was following her to her apartment complex, where…

  Where it would be so good.

  By the time he pulled up next to her car in the parking lot of her well-maintained apartment complex, she had dents in his fingers from gripping the steering wheel so hard. Neither of them said a word as he followed her to her apartment. She unlocked the door, ushering him inside, then walked in after him before shutting the door softly behind her and turning to face him.

  “Greg,” she whispered.

  It seemed he didn’t need any more encouragement than that, because he came at her so hard, she was surprised that they didn’t knock each other’s teeth out.

  But she welcomed it. Welcomed him. She felt like she’d wanted him forever. All afternoon, she had been hyperaware of every muscle in his body, every breath he took, and how it would feel to have all of that sexy man on top of her. Inside of her.

  He pushed his hips against hers and made a rumbling sound in his throat. “I want you so much, Carrie. God. All I want to do whenever you’re around is fuck.”

  Yes, please. Yes.

  She moaned as he punctuated his words with the push of his rigid erection against her body, stepping back against the closed door for support as he stroked his tongue deep inside her mouth. She rubbed against him, suddenly desperate for more contact, trying to ease the fierce pounding in her blood.

  His arm went around her back and pulling her up hard against him until she was standing on her tiptoes. His cock pressed into the juncture of her thighs, and she arched even further, slipping her hands around his waist and pulling him tightly against her. He groaned into her mouth.

  Yes. It felt so good. He felt good. Long and thick, even confined in his clothing. They were practically plastered together, his weight pushing her back into the door, arms and hands wrapping around one another’s body.

  She slid her tongue into his mouth this time, exploring, teasing, and he sucked on it lightly, taking her even farther in. The kiss deepened, their bodies pushed and stretched, and she finally tore her mouth away to pant, “There’s a bedroom—”

  “Not this time. I want you too much.” Greg rasped, and then he reached up, tipped her head back, and scraped his teeth over her throat.

  She could only whimper with pleasure.

  But he eased up at the sound, backing off just enough that she could no longer feel every inch of him against her.

  “Are you okay with this? Am I going too fast?” he asked, and the concern in his eyes made her want him more.

  She had no doubt that he would stop if she told him to.

  But she didn’t want to stop.

  She grabbed the back of his neck. “Not fast enough.”

  She pulled his mouth back to hers. It was like throwing a lit match into an entire warehouse of fireworks. His pace moved from fast to frenzied, and she could do nothing more at that point than hang on and go along for the ride. He pushed up her shirt, bunching it under her armpits, and pulled her bra down in the same moment, before his mouth went to her nipple, sucking and biting the sensitive flesh.

  She gasped and stroked her hands through his hair. “Yes. God, yes.”

  He continued to play with her breasts while he slipped one hand between their bodies and unbuttoning her pants before grabbing at the waistband and her panties at the same time to shove them down her thighs.

  Her legs were pinned together, pants encircling her lower thighs. Half-naked like this, she felt more exposed than if he had stripped her bare.

  She liked it.

  He lifted her arms above her head, pinning both wrists with one of his big hands and drew back, chest heaving. “Don’t move,” he growled, looking down at her, raking his gaze over her body. His slow perusal made her wetter between her legs and she writhed against the door. “Greg, please,” she moaned, pushing her hips toward him, offering herself.

  She had never felt this hot, this needy before.

  Of course, she’d never experienced foreplay quite like this before, either.

  They’d been doing it all day, and she hadn’t realized until now.

  He released her wrists, then reached down to ease his belt open. She licked her lips in anticipation, watching as he undid his pants and took out his cock, holding the stiff weight of it for her to see.

  It was her turn to look her fill.

  “Big,” she purred, and he nodded. Of course he knew it.

  She watched as he encircled himself with his right hand, stroking down slowly, from the ruddy tip to the thicker base, before squeezing g
ently there, extending his fingers to stroke his own sac, pulling it up in short jerks as he continued to stare at her body.

  Watching him touch himself was driving her mad. She tried to spread her legs, but the fabric around her thighs made it impossible. She growled with frustration, her hands going down to push at the clothing, but before she could move it away, he stepped back against her, sliding his hard flesh into the tight space between her legs.

  Her body jerked at the contact, and he made a shushing sound against her lips, his mouth nibbling at hers gently. The sweet kiss he was giving her was a delicious contrast to the feel of that heavy, hard length sliding back and forth across her sex below. She relaxed, returning his lazy kiss, as her thighs grew wetter with the slickness of her own arousal.

  Who knew this man was capable of stirring so much in her? Everything with him in the past couple of days had been unexpected, had made her think and do things that she’d never even considered. But this was taking things to a new level.

  “Please,” she begged, as he placed soft, sweet kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids. Her clit was swollen, throbbing, as he continued his slow, deliberate slides between her legs.

  “Please what?” he murmured in her ear, nibbling on the lobe.

  She shivered. “I want you.”

  He chuckled, the vibration of his laugh making her sensitive flesh convulse. He slowly stepped back, his cock sliding free of her thighs, and yanked his wallet free from his back pocket. She nearly fainted at the sight of his erection glistening with the evidence of her desire.

  He pulled a condom from the wallet, ripped open the packet, then stepped forward again to kiss her, nearly bruising her mouth with the force of his. She kicked her pants off as he rolled the condom on. Once that was done, he brought her hands up to loop around his neck.

  “Hold on to me,” he grunted, stepping between her thighs. He pulled her legs up to wrap around his waist, positioning his blunt, wide head at her opening, spreading her, and just as the thought crossed her mind that I can’t believe I’m actually doing this, he was breaching her entrance with a long, deliberate push.