Naked Pursuit

by Jill Monroe

  “Hello, Ms. Winston.”

  Larissa whirled around to see the oh-so-sexy Dr. Durant propped against the front desk. How long had he been there? Had she just flashed the man her panties? A flush stained his cheeks. A hue not normally present.

  She gave him a half smile and made a show of locking the front door, trying to hide her shaking fingers. Dr. Durant rarely showed up so early. She had thought she’d have more time to sort things out.

  He stood as she turned to face him. Tall and gorgeous, the man wanted to make the world a better place. Ease the pain and suffering of the hurting and injured. He deserved so much more than her shoddy efforts last night. And her brushoff this morning.

  “Since you couldn’t get away earlier, I decided to bring something to you. I remember how you, uh, you mentioned once... I brought you some cheesecake.” He thrust a small takeout container toward her.

  If life had to be boiled down to one dessert that made it worth living, that treat would be cheesecake. When had she told him that? One, one-and-a-half years ago? And he’d remembered?

  She dragged in a breath. The back of her throat tightened and she pressed her lips together to hold back a sniffle.

  But he spotted the wetness on her cheeks and his gray eyes narrowed. In two long strides he was at her side, his large hands engulfing hers. “Larissa, what is the matter?”

  The handsome doc never called her Larissa. Always the formal and professional Ms. Winston. She began to tremble and his thumb stroked her hand. Soothing her. It was the first time he’d ever touched her.

  And the last.

  What was the matter? Everything. She shook her head. “Nothing.” Larissa forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

  “But you’re crying.”

  His tender caring, his gentle caress...now? Finally? It was almost all too much. Larissa yanked her hands from his and moved past the informal lobby and toward the inner area where the patient lounges and rooms were located. “I have to straighten up.”

  “Of course. I’ll help.”

  He’d never offered to help before.

  “It’s just busy work,” she told him over her shoulder as she punched the key code and the lock unlatched.

  “We’re a team, right?”

  Yeah, and she was the team member who’d dropped the ball. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind them and she was alone, truly alone with the only man who’d ever made her go weak in the knees. She forced herself to walk down the narrow corridor and escaped into the first patient sleeping room. This room had been assigned to one of the patients who’d bailed on her last night.

  He followed her. So now she was alone. With Dr. Durant. Alone. In a tiny room filled by a bed. Alone.

  “What normally happens in these rooms?”

  Good. Focus on the routine. “The morning after the medication was dispensed to you, I would check your pulse. Listen to your breathing.”

  Dr. Durant extended his wrist, and her mouth gaped. She took his hand. His skin was smooth under her fingertips, and Larissa needed an extra moment to find his pulse. It beat steady and sure and...elevated?

  “You’re at one ten. That’s a little high.”

  “My pulse is always a little high when I’m with you.”

  She’d just managed to get her mouth closed when he let loose another jaw-dropping statement.

  “Maybe you should check my breathing,” he suggested, and a blast of heat singed her down the middle. She’d never seen Dr. Durant dressed so casually. Jeans and a cotton button-down shirt. And never without his lab coat. Sometimes he even wore suits when he arrived at PharmaTest for presentations.

  But today he was a different Dr. Mitch Durant. Not just in his early appearance or the way he dressed but also his whole demeanor toward her were different. Almost flirtatious.

  “Aren’t you going to check my breathing?” he asked as he plopped down on the bed.

  Definitely flirtatious.

  She flattened her palm against his chest, and he sucked in a gulp of air. The steady thump beneath her fingertips energized her. “Your breathing feels erratic.”

  His gray eyes met hers and Larissa struggled to read his thoughts. Her throat tightened with emotion. Was the man she’d longed for, daydreamed over, really here and giving her exactly what she wanted?

  His hand covered hers over his chest. “I could be in some distress,” he said, his tone grave.

  She cupped his cheek and lowered her head to his. She explored his lips. Rubbed her mouth along his upper lip. His lower lip. Traced the seam with her tongue.

  No response from him.

  She pulled away. His eyes fluttered open, his irises dark.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” she admitted. Breathless. If she’d read his signals wrong and he rejected her now, she didn’t care.

  “I have some idea.”

  Then Dr. Durant took off his glasses.

  He tossed them onto a small end table beside the bed. Dr. D—Mitch gripped her wrists and tugged her forward onto his chest. “I have to stop myself every damn day from driving over here to visit you. I ran out of convenient excuses over a year ago.”

  With a laugh, she tucked her hair behind her ears. “I had no idea.”

  He nodded. “I know. You never saw me.”

  She traced the solid angle of his jaw with her finger. “Oh, I saw you, Dr. Durant. Mitch.”

  His eyes squeezed shut. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you call me by my name.”

  “Mitch,” she said again.

  His long dark lashes fluttered open, and the joy and desire dwelling in the dark depths of his eyes made her mouth go dry. “What happens next with your patient? To me?” he asked, his hands stroking and rubbing up and down her back. His scent of sandalwood filled her nose and she breathed it in. Deep.

  Larissa found it hard to concentrate. “I ask a series of questions.”

  “What are they?”

  “You created them,” she reminded him.

  “Ask,” he invited.

  A delicious thrill of sensation rushed through her. She licked her lips. “How did you sleep?”

  “Lousy.”

  His answer excited her beyond reason. Could she be the reason for his restless sleep? She’d suffered many a restless night due to the sexy research doctor.

  “Are you under an unusual amount of stress?”

  He nodded, and his hands lowered. Was Dr. Durant about to grab her ass?

  “Why?”

  Something dark and urgent burned in his gray eyes. “Because I realized this phase of the drug trials is nearly complete.”

  Her brow furrowed. “That’s a good thing. HB121 will help millions of people all around the world. You’re amazing.”

  “We’re amazing. It took all of us to get this far. But once we’re out of this phase of development, I may never see this incredible woman again, and it eats me up inside.”

  He cupped her butt then, and pressed her until she felt the force of his erection between her legs. Larissa began to tremble and she grew wet and needy. She straddled him then and through their clothes rubbed her clit against the hard ridge of his penis. She was done with being shy. His agonized groan was her reward.

  He sunk his hands into her hair and drew her mouth down to his lips. His kiss was wild and wicked and so not what she’d imagined. His tongue darted inside her mouth, robbing her of anything other than need. Need for him.

  He rolled her onto her back. How had he managed to do that on such a narrow bed? Her sexy doc was magic. He slid off her body until he knelt between her spread thighs. His hand kneaded up her legs, soothing her and making her tense at the same time. “I leave here and all I think about are these skirts you wear. They drive me crazy. You have amazing legs.” He shuddered. “And then this morning, ahh, agony.”

  “Why?”

  “Because when your dress flew up in the wind, I saw exactly what these skirts hide.” His fingertips caressed her thighs and her l
egs began to tremble. Up, up, up his hands traveled until he found her panties. “And these...” He fingered the delicate red lace. “These almost killed me.”

  She lifted her hips. “Take them off.”

  Mitch didn’t waste any time. He hooked his thumbs around the lace at her hips and drew the material down, revealing the most intimate parts of her to him.

  He sucked in a breath. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve got to taste you.”

  Her eyes drifted shut at the image his words evoked. “Yes. Please.”

  His fingers were gentle as he played about the folds between her legs, and Larissa arched her back. “More,” she urged.

  His thumb centered on her clit, he circled around the delicate bud of nerves for a heartbeat, then off. On. Then off. Her toes curled into the blanket on top of the tiny bed. His thumb forged lower, slipping into her wetness.

  Her voice became a whimper. “That feels so good.”

  “It’s about to feel a whole lot better.” His thumb slid inside her and her hips bucked. Then Larissa felt the wetness of his tongue above her knee as he teased the ticklish spot. His thumb alternated between orbiting her clit and sliding between her folds, and all the while his mouth dragged up her inner thigh, nearing her core.

  Then his hand fell away. Her stomach hollowed and her shoulders sagged. Mitch gripped her around the ankles and hauled her legs behind his back. She was completely open to him now. She should feel vulnerable. Exposed. Instead she felt desired. He blew on her skin and a thousand tiny shivers erupted along the apex between her thighs. Her nipples puckered and her head wobbled from side to side.

  Then he kissed her and drew her clit into his mouth. Teasing. Sucking. His fingers tweaked her folds and drew them apart, and he laved her with his tongue from clit to core. Her tortured moan tore through the tiny sleeping room. Larissa’s legs dropped, and her heels dug into the thin mattress and her fingers molded to his head.

  He slipped a finger inside. Then another. She rode his hand, aching for release. Mitch grazed her clit with his mouth, his teeth and his tongue each a different sensation that drove her closer and closer to the edge.

  The sexy doctor added another finger and her entire body contracted. Mitch licked her clit until the waves of her orgasm ended. She felt weightless and pinned to the bed at the same time. Her hands fell to his shoulders and she drew him up her body.

  “Mitch, I want you so much. Please.”

  “I don’t have protection.”

  “It’s okay. I’m on the pill.”

  The good-doctor-gone-bad flashed her a smile so sexy that she had to bite her lip. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “Yes, now.” Larissa hadn’t meant to sound so insistent. She’d practically ordered the doctor to take her and—

  He plunged his hard length inside until his sac hit against the sensitive skin between her thighs. He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes so close to hers she couldn’t focus. “You feel amazing, Larissa. Better than I ever imagined.”

  “You imagined this?”

  “Every. Damn. Night.” He punctuated each word with a thrust.

  Larissa wrapped her legs behind his back again, locking her ankles. “Did you think about me doing that?”

  “I hoped you would.”

  “What about this?” she asked and flexed her hips to meet his thrust.

  He groaned and shook his head. “This is too good to have imagined.”

  She gripped his face and kissed his lips. “Go. Harder. Faster. Just make me come again.” Larissa sucked his tongue into her mouth, and he began to thrust hard into her body. She gripped him tighter with her legs, her fingers digging into his skin.

  He cupped her breasts between their bodies, tweaking her nipples through the material of her bra. Her muscles clamped around him, and with a groan, Mitch rode her orgasm until he exploded inside her.

  His left shoe hit the ground, then the right. Dear God, she hadn’t even let the man undress before she demanded he ride her. And she didn’t give a damn.

  They lay together, her dress bunched up at her waist and his pants partially pushed down his legs.

  She almost giggled at the force of her need for him. This, this was what she’d been waiting for. “Better than I ever imagined,” she murmured.

  “Damn straight,” he said, and pulled the blanket up over them. He tucked her against his side and kissed her temple, and she fell asleep against the man she’d only ever had in her dreams.

  * * *

  IN THE SHED, Owen shoved Stella behind his back in a protective gesture that was old-fashioned and kind of sweet. Stella blinked against the harsh sunlight peeking through the open door.

  “Yeah, sis. It’s me.” His voice sounded resigned.

  A bright smile pulled at the corner of their intruder’s lips. An expression she’d spotted on Owen. “Is that a girl you’re trying to hide behind your back? Not doing such a great job. No offense.”

  “Not hiding anyone.”

  “I killed a snake.”

  They spoke at the same time.

  Owen’s sister cocked her head. “Wait, are you kissing the exterminator?” Then her gaze lowered. “Holy shit, is that part of a handcuff you’re wearing?” Her gaze shifted to Stella. “That you’re both wearing? And what’s wrong with your shirt? Both your shirts?”

  “Uh...”

  Owen’s sister clapped her hands. “Oh, man, this story is going to be good. I’m getting the girls.” The double door slammed back into place behind her.

  “This is a disaster,” she heard Owen mumble.

  Stella’s back stiffened. Okay, the man might not be her type, and it was clear he didn’t think she was his usual kind of woman, either, but did he have to make it so obvious?

  “What’s the big deal?” she hissed, not able to mask a hint of defensiveness. “We’re all grown-ups, after all. So we’ve been caught kissing. No biggie.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “You know in movies how the younger brother seems to have these wise older sisters looking out for him with the school bully or ready to dispense uniquely feminine dating advice so he brings the hardest-to-get girl to the prom?”

  Stella nodded, because what else could she do?

  He sighed. “I didn’t have that kind of sisters. More like the constantly tormenting, let’s watch him fail and laugh kind of sibs.”

  As an only child, this scenario sounded horrifying. “How many did you say you had again?”

  “Three,” he finally said. “That was Bethany, the oldest.” Then he turned from her, his shoulders straightening. Bracing for battle? He marched toward the workbench and grabbed the bolt cutters. “Let’s get these off quickly.”

  She followed and placed her arm on the table, palm up. She tucked her finger under the metal band and tugged it up to give him clearance. Owen slid the smooth, cold metal of the bolt cutter along her wrist, the blades sharp and ready. With one quick snip, the cuff split and she was free.

  Stella rubbed the chafed skin that for some reason didn’t hurt even a little, and enjoyed the pure joy of liberation. “Thanks. Okay, your turn. Hand them over.”

  The double doors swung open again and in the entry stood Bethany and another woman who shared Owen’s and his sister’s honey-highlighted hair. “Mom, Owen’s brought a girl to Gram Gram’s birthday party.”

  Gram Gram?

  Stella stepped in front of the remnants of Owen’s cuffed hand in a vain attempt at hiding the stupid thing. But she just drew attention to the damaged metal and appeared even guiltier.

  “If I had a dollar for every time I was in handcuffs, I’d be able to retire,” replied the woman at Bethany’s side.

  Stella gaped at her.

  “You see?” Owen said. “Everyone in my family is a natural-born tormenter. That offense was intentional. So I guess I can’t be too angry with my sisters. They come by it naturally. I’ve been completely desensitized by all the things my mom says.”

&nb
sp; She made a tsking sound and then rushed to his side. “You used to get so embarrassed. No offense, but it made you stronger.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Glad to have you back, son.” The older woman’s voice caught. “Don’t stay away so long next time.”

  Owen’s arms wrapped around his mom’s shoulders and he gave her a hug. Stella’s throat tightened at the warm scene. For a moment she let herself miss her own parents.

  How long had he been gone? Other than a little teasing, his family didn’t seem to fall into the total-nightmare-must-escape category.

  The big, strong firefighter acted like he had three tormenting sisters and an oversharing mom, but there was a lot of love in this family. And yet, he’d moved away... Why had he left?

  “I won’t,” he assured his mother.

  Although Stella had less than twenty-four hours worth of memories of the man, she knew he meant his promise. Something—or was it someone?—had kept him away, but maybe enough time had passed that he could come home.

  “This is Stella...” His words trailed off as his eyes widened. He didn’t know her last name.

  She stuck out her hand, the red ring around her wrist apparent, the material of her shirt flapping. “I’m Stella Holbrook.”

  “Karen Perkins,” his mom replied as she returned Stella’s handshake. “Been dating long?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Sometimes it feels like we just met yesterday.”

  Karen laughed and clasped Stella’s hand. Tight. “I understand exactly what you mean. It’s nice to always be discovering new things about a man. Keeps you on your toes. And makes it hot between the sh—”

  “Mom,” Owen groaned.

  Owen’s mother flashed her a warm smile. “I’m so glad you could make it for Gram Gram’s birthday. Won’t she be surprised? Owen’s never brought a date to a family event before. You must be pretty special.”

  Wait a moment. He’d mentioned he was in town for a family thing. He’d taken her to his grandmother’s home knowing that a whole houseful of relatives would be there. He might have practically dragged her across the lawn to avoid detection, but why bring her here in the first place? Why not just stop at any of the home improvement stores they’d spotted along the way?