He leaned in. “How much a woman likes me is directly proportional to the amount of alcohol she consumes.”
Now it was Kira’s turn to smile. “Another hypothesis?”
“A fact.”
“We shall see.” Kira rummaged around in the cooler to find the limes and two shot glasses.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DERRICK COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time he’d laughed so hard. For sure it had nothing to do with the two beers and two shots of Southern Comfort he’d gulped down over the last hour and a half, at least he didn’t think so. “In all the hundreds of times...” he fought to catch his breath “...I’ve played...cornhole...” he doubled over, his forearm bracing his abdomen “...I have never...” he couldn’t stop “...had a corn bag...” similar to a beanbag, only filled with dried corn kernels “...go into the fire pit.” Let alone two. The second one sizzled, same as the first. Popcorn jumped out of the blaze sending another wave of laughter through him.
“I find that hard to believe.” Kira stood in the shadows, facing him, about thirty-three feet away, beside the other homemade cornhole box, which was nothing more than a rectangular box, built on an angle, with a hole toward the top. “Whose idea was it to set that other box so close to the fire?”
“It’s a good six feet away.” He’d purposely let her pitch toward the box closer to the fire so she could see the hole better. “You can’t play at night if you can’t see.”
Now Kira was laughing too. “Well you can’t play if all your corn bags burn up, either.”
God help him, his sides were starting to ache.
“I’ll have you know, I have many fine qualities,” she said.
“If you do say so yourself,” he teased, enjoying himself immensely.
“I do say so myself,” she said. “But athleticism isn’t one of them.”
“I don’t know about that. You have mighty fine form when you run.” He’d enjoyed every second spent watching her earlier that day.
She waved him off. “Running doesn’t require any skill.”
“You have to do it without twisting an ankle or getting hit by a car,” he pointed out.
“I stand corrected. I am skilled at running. But a proficiency at throwing things eludes me.”
“More like a proficiency for aiming at things eludes you.”
“Oh, I can aim just fine,” she said. “It’s the actual hitting what I’m aiming at that gives me trouble. Now go on and throw your last bag, you show-off. Let’s get this over with.”
He held it up. “If I make this, that’s three in a row. You owe me a kiss.”
She planted both hands on her hips. “I think I’ve been hustled.”
Smart girl.
He let the third corn bag fly. Swish...right into the hole.
“You and your, ‘I’m rusty. I haven’t played in years,’” she mimicked him. “I never would have made that bet if I’d thought you’d actually land three in a row.”
Of course she wouldn’t have. “A bet is a bet.” To increase his odds of success, he’d fired off a bunch of practice throws while she’d been inside with Mom. Then he’d gone out of his way to pretend to suck when they’d first started playing. Did that make him a cheat? Maybe. But a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do to get the girl. He wanted the girl. And she wanted him.
“It was a fair bet. If I didn’t get three in a row you would have gotten out of drinking that third shot.” The main reason she’d likely taken the bet.
“There was nothing fair about that bet, and you know it.”
He decided to ignore that comment. “I’ll let you choose. Which do you want to do first? The shot or the kiss?”
“How magnanimous of you,” she said sarcastically as she walked over to him, only a little unsteadily. “I’ll take the shot then maybe the kiss won’t be so bad.”
On his way to the cooler he smiled. Nothing easy about Kira, she was a challenge. Never thought he’d enjoy spending time with a challenging woman, which is why he typically stayed away from them. But tonight he found Ms. Kira Peniglatt damn entertaining. Must be the alcohol.
“I’ll pour,” she said, taking the bottle from him.
“Fine. You pour.” He took out two lime wedges then set up the shot glasses on top of the cooler.
Both glasses filled he squeezed a wedge of lime into each, chose one and lifted it in a toast. “To the future.”
She clicked her glass to his. “May it be better than the past.” Then she tossed it back like a pro and slammed the empty on top of the cooler. “Hypothesis disproved. Two glasses of wine and three shots of Southern Comfort in under two hours and I did not put the moves on you.”
But he hadn’t kissed her yet. “Too bad,” he said.
“Time for horseshoes.” She turned, a little too quickly and stumbled.
“Gotcha.” He caught her and hauled her close, front to front. “So here we are again.” Just like last night.
“I was looking forward to horseshoes.” She tried to turn in his arms, straining to look toward the horseshoe pits.
“Honey, tossing around harmless little bags of corn with you is one thing. Horseshoes are heavy. In your hands they can do some damage.”
“Hey.” She gave his chest a push.
“Besides, you owe me a kiss.” He tilted his head toward hers. “And I mean to collect,” he reached down to tilt her chin up, “right,” he leaned in, “now.”
The second her soft lips touched his, a massive surge of yearning flooded Derrick’s system. It took total concentration to keep the kiss light, to let her take the lead, when all he wanted to do was squeeze her close, slip his tongue into her mouth, and grab her sexy-as-hell ass to hold her steady while he thrust his growing erection between her sweet thighs over and over again.
Her fingers slid into his hair, angling his head, pulling him down.
Yes. More.
She tasted sweet and tart, same as her personality.
When she pushed her tongue between his lips, he sucked it in, played with it.
His hands ached to touch her, but he didn’t trust himself.
Then she pressed her beautiful body to his, wrapping her arms around his neck and Derrick let instinct take over, hugging her close, driving his tongue into her heavenly mouth, again and again, thrusting his hips, showing her how much he wanted her.
She pushed him away. “Stop.”
He let her go immediately and stepped away. “I’m sorry.”
“I can’t.” In the firelight she looked just as disappointed as he felt. “As much as I may want to, I can’t.”
“New rule for our night of fun,” he said, gently setting his hand to her cheek. She leaned into his touch. “Tonight we can be whoever we choose to be or not to be.” That sounded weird. “Does that make sense?”
Kira smiled. “Oddly enough, it does.”
“Tonight I choose not to be related to anyone from the Limone family. Tonight I’m a Smith. Derrick Smith.”
“But you are related to Daisy Limone a patient of WCHC and that’s not the only reason—”
“No.” He held a finger to her moist lips. “Tonight I’m Derrick Smith.” He held out his hand. “And you are?”
“Stop it, Derrick.”
“It’s just the two of us. No one will know.”
She looked up at him. “I’ll know.”
There you have it. He pushed out a breath. “Okay. Come on then.” He pointed to the blanket. “Grab that. I’ll get us each another beverage and then it’s time for drunk stargazing.”
She placed her hand on his forearm as he reached for the cooler. “Thank you for understanding.”
He hated that, as a doctor, he understood completely. “Of course.” After all, he was a nice guy. A horny, nic
e guy who hadn’t been with a woman in months and wouldn’t be getting any sex tonight, but a nice guy nonetheless.
“I saw some bottles of water in there. Please grab one for me...instead of wine.”
“Sure thing.” He grabbed one for himself as well.
They set up the blanket far from the fire so it’d be as dark as possible for optimal stargazing conditions. After drinking down some water, Derrick lied down on his back first, immediately spotting the Little Dipper. “First one to spot the Little Dipper gets to choose what we do next.”
From where she sat beside him she turned to look down at him. In the dark, he couldn’t see her expression, but he had a pretty good idea the face she’d be making at him.
“You’re all about the competition, aren’t you?”
“Grew up with two brothers, everything was a competition. Lay down.” He patted the blanket beside his hip.
After drinking some water she did. “You’ve already spotted the Little Dipper, haven’t you?”
He smiled, hadn’t taken her long to figure him out. Once again they were lying side by side, staring up at the sky.
“Little Dipper’s right there.” She pointed up, tracing it with her index finger.
“The North Star.” Derrick pointed skyward, same as Kira. “Big Dipper.” He studied the stars, looking for, “And there’s Scorpius.”
“Impressive knowledge of astronomy,” Kira said.
Derrick would never willingly admit how many nights he’d laid in this exact spot as a kid, alone with a flashlight and the astronomy book Mom had bought him for his eighth birthday, studying the stars.
“What is Scorpius?” She slid closer. “I don’t know what I’m looking for.”
He moved his right arm to make room for her. She settled in with her head resting on his shoulder, pressed in tight to his side.
“Right there.” He turned a little, lowering his face close to hers so they could both look up his forearm to see where he was pointing. “You see the curve of its tail?” He traced it with his finger. “Then up and around.”
“I do.” She sounded excited. He liked that.
Derrick pointed out a few more stars and constellations. Kira watched with interest, or at least she pretended to be interested. He appreciated that. He loved stargazing and hadn’t had the chance to do it in years. After a while they both lay there quietly. Derrick looked over to see if Kira had fallen asleep.
She turned toward him. “I know I said it before, but it’s so peaceful here so beautiful. Thank you for bringing me. It’s such a nice change from the city.”
“You’re welcome.” He hugged her close. “Thank you for not completely freaking out when you woke up this morning.” He dropped a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “And for not telling the sheriff I kidnapped you.” He’d damn near had a heart attack when he’d seen the sheriff at the door.
She turned on her side, cuddling in close. “I’ve had a really nice time tonight.”
So had he. “See. It’s the alcohol.”
“No it’s not.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “It’s you...Derrick Smith.”
What?
She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, lowering her chest to his. “I’ve never picked up a stranger in a bar before.”
Hell yeah! He was totally up for some role play. “I saw you sitting there,” he slid his arms around her, “and I knew I had to have you.”
“What first attracted you?” She shimmied up a little to tongue his ear.
God help him his body went hard. “Your laugh,” he told her honestly.
She lifted her head and smiled down at him. “My laugh?”
“Yes.” He palmed her ass. “Your bold, loud, confident laugh.” He bent his knees, shifting their position, to get her right where he wanted her. “And these.” He cupped her breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples, loving the way they hardened from his touch. “The way your silky blouse gave hints of their shape each time you moved, fueling my imagination.”
“They’re small,” she said.
“They’re sensitive.” He pinched her nipples gently causing her to suck in a sensual breath and tremble in response. Blood rushed to his groin. “They’re perfect.” He slid down, so he could take one into his mouth.
Through her T-shirt and bra wasn’t enough. Derrick needed to feel her skin...taste her. “Your shirt.” He reached down to its hem. “Take it off.” Now. He started pulling it up.
Thank you God, she let him.
So damn impatient he couldn’t take the time to pull it completely off, Derrick yanked up her shirt and bra just enough to expose her, straining to see her fair skin in the moonlight, before sucking a dusky nipple deep into his mouth.
“That feels...sooooo...gooood.” Her voice had gone deep and throaty. When her arms gave out, he held her up, tonguing her nipple, enjoying her little twitches of pleasure before moving on to the other one. “Your mouth.” She let out a breath. “I want it on me...everywhere.”
Hell yeah. Derrick flipped them over, needing to be on top. “Whatever you want, baby.” He kissed her lips, her chin, and up her jaw to her ear. “Anything you want.”
He felt like an animal, fully clothed, rutting between her thighs, barely able to control himself, he wanted her so much. Slow it down before you scare her away. He tried to roll off.
“No.” She held on tight. “Don’t go.”
“Shh.” He bent down to kiss her sweet lips. “Just taking off my shirt.” And slowing things down before I come in my damn pants like a teenager.
To his surprise, while he sat up to shuck off his shirt, Kira didn’t lie there waiting for his return. She got busy pulling her own shirt over her head and unhooking the front clasp of her bra.
He smiled.
She must have seen it in the moonlight because she asked, “What?” as she removed her bra.
He lowered himself back down on top of her. “I like when a woman is an active participant.” He took a few seconds to enjoy the feel of her naked chest touching his, her hardened nipples rubbing along his skin as he rocked his torso from side to side. “When she tells me what she wants, what she needs.” He dropped his head down to kiss the sensitive patch of skin just below her ear. “I get the feeling,” he whispered, “that you’re going to be very active.”
She bent her knees and opened them wide, making room for him. Then she grabbed his ass with both hands, tilting her pelvis up as she pulled him down onto her. “And very demanding.”
CHAPTER NINE
THE SETTING WAS PERFECT, outdoors yet in a private, dark, and secluded spot, under the starry sky. Derrick was perfect, handsome, sexy and willing. Kira couldn’t remember ever wanting a man more. And after much consideration, she’d decided she’d be a fool to let this opportunity pass her by.
It’s just the two of us. No one will know.
She’d likely be fired on Monday, so professional ethics wasn’t as much of an issue as she was making it out to be. But just in case, “You have to promise you will never tell anyone about this.”
He stopped moving to stare deeply into her eyes. “I promise, from the bottom of my heart, I will never tell anyone about this.”
So sincere, Kira’s heart gave a little twitch. There was something about him...something...special. No. She couldn’t let herself...feel. Sex. That’s all. Tonight only. Sex with Derrick Smith. A stranger she’d picked up in a bar. A man she could leave without looking back.
Done thinking, more than ready to get to the good stuff, Kira set out to show Derrick just how demanding she could be, using all of her strength to try to roll them over, so she could take control.
“Nuh-uh,” Derrick said, a large, heavy, immovable weight on top of her. “I’m in charge.” He kissed down the side of her neck.
&nb
sp; “You see, that’s not going to work for me.” She struggled beneath him. “I like to be on top.”
“Tell me what you want,” he said, sliding down her body, setting a kiss on her clavicle before sliding lower. “What you need. I’ll take care of you.”
“I want to be on top.” He didn’t seem to hear, apparently too busy giving her left nipple some attention. He sucked it into his hot, wet mouth, hard. Wow! Tingles of pleasure shot inward, straight to her core. “After you’re done with that, I mean.” No need to rush. The man was a master, an absolute master.
“Tell me what you need,” he said seconds before he sucked her right nipple into his mouth. Her body actually spasmed it felt so good.
“On top,” she said, having a difficult time focusing on anything but the absolute wonderfulness of his mouth. “Need to be on top.” The only way she could achieve orgasm with a man.
“Why?” He slid further down her body, his tongue leaving a cool, wet trail leading to her belly button, then lower.
“I won’t come otherwise.” No reason to lie. She needed to come, needed release so bad she’d kill for it. Well...maybe not kill, but—
He reached the elastic waistband of her leggings. “Oh, you’re going to come.”
She appreciated his confidence, but—
“First from my tongue.” He sat up, inserted a finger into her waistband at each hip. “Lift up.”
In a move that was totally out of character, she did, without question, without argument.
“Good girl.” He started to pull down her leggings. “The second time, you’ll come while I’m pounding into you. Sneakers.”
She toed them off. “You’re a confident one, aren’t you?” Please God, if you’re listening, let him be telling the truth, let him have the skill to make his words a reality.
He yanked the stretchy black fabric and her underwear over her ankles, tossing them to the side. “After that,” he pushed her bare legs apart, crawled in between them and laid down on his stomach, “you can come any way you want.”
The Doctor She Always Dreamed Of Page 8