I wanted to faint or, even better, be transported out of the moment.
“Only Dr. Ross can answer that question,” he said and winked at me. “Good night, ladies.” Then he continued up the hallway.
Court and I watched him go.
“That man, that man. My God, he’s so hot. So hot.” She rubbed the back of her neck as if Dr. Sparrow had just made her feverish. “Anyway, where was I? Right. Greg Carrol.”
I ripped my gaze off Dr. Sparrow and snapped a hand in front of my face to stop her. “I said no.”
“Come on,” she pleaded, back to her charming little Valley girl act.
I had no time for it. “No more fucking athletes,” I said and continued my journey to the care station.
I thought I would find Dr. Sparrow there, charting or following up on a patient, but I didn’t.
I searched the area a few times, taking my time finishing up, wondering where he was.
Chapter Eleven
Penina Ross
As soon as I stepped out of the elevator and into the penthouse, the smell of delicious food flowed up my nostrils. It was definitely seafood—lobster or scallops. Music played softly as well, a light jazzy instrumental.
“Dr. Ross, is that you?” Sparrow called from the kitchen.
My eyes expanded like balloons. He was there.
“Shit,” I cursed under my breath then cleared my throat. “Yeah.” There was no nervousness in my voice, even though the feeling consumed me.
“I’m in the kitchen. Come join me.”
My heart fluttered. I quickly looked down at my crotch. Pussy, no. She had jumped, getting excited about him being so near.
I could feel him waiting for me as I walked down the hallway and into the living room, which had a view of the kitchen. He was standing at the oven with a drying towel draped across his shoulder. When I got close enough, he turned, and immediately, his pale-blue eyes roamed over me.
He leaned on the large marble-top island. “Are you ready to eat something?”
I jerked my head back. “Did you cook?”
He smirked. “Yes. I cooked.” He sounded and looked proud of himself.
He cooks too.
“But you left the hospital not too long ago.”
“What was your answer?”
I frowned. “Answer about what?”
“Are you going to be Greg Carrol’s date?”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “Absolutely not.”
He smirked as if he was satisfied by my reaction.
Finally, I realized we were staring at each other. I had to blink to be released from the power of his captive gaze.
“Did you make scallops?” I asked without taking one step toward him.
“Yes, pan-seared and zucchini pesto pasta.” He pointed his head in the direction of the bedroom I’d been sleeping in. “Go, put your things down, then come back and join me at the table.”
“We’re going to eat dinner together?” I knew I looked as nervous as I sounded.
“That’s the plan.”
His smirk was so enticing. It made it difficult to remember why I was so upset with him. “But you never talk to me at work.”
“But you know why that is.”
My brow furrowed. “No, I don’t.”
He snatched the towel off his shoulder then tossed it on the marble. I stiffened as he moved toward me until our faces were close.
“Must I remind you why I can’t engage with you at the hospital—right here, right now?”
My head spun like a top. I thought I said, “Okay,” before getting the hell away from him, actually running like a frightened cat to the bedroom.
My heart was speeding as though Mario Andretti was driving it. I could still picture the way he looked at me. What is happening to me? I’m attracted to him, like really attracted to him. And what are we doing together? That night had to be the night we defined our relationship or lack thereof. We also had to resolve the sexual tension between us. At some point during the evening, we had to fuck. It didn’t have to take long. He would stick it in, we would bang, then that would be that. He would be done with me, and I would be done with him. Done.
“After dinner, sex,” I whispered then yawned. One more night, and the next day, after my shift, I would make a reservation at the hotel—maybe.
Dr. Sparrow plated dinner beautifully on white porcelain dinnerware, he’d filled a gold basket with various types of dinner rolls, and a gold dish of sliced butter sat next to it.
I tilted my head and gave him a suspicious look. “Did you really make this?” I could hardly believe it.
He gave a short nod. “I did. I wouldn’t lie about making dinner.”
“Well, you’ve already lied about owning this place,” I said, and I immediately wanted to take back those words. I was tired and uninhibited.
“Let’s sit,” he said, obviously choosing to ignore my accusation.
Sparrow walked to one side of the table, where a plate was set. He had on a white V-neck T-shirt and loose cotton lounge pants. His magnificent cock, visible through the material, pistoled down his leg. It was hard and not being carefully constrained by his underwear. He looked down at where I was staring. I quickly zipped my eyes back to his face.
He shrugged. “I already told you. It’s the effect you have on me. It’ll pass. Sit.”
He still held my chair out for me. I didn’t want to get too close to his wiener. I was creaming in my panties. Say it, Pen. I wanted to tell him that we should go to the bedroom and get it over with already, but instead, I walked over to sit in the chair.
When we were close, we locked eyes. I saw the question in his. He wanted to do something to me—touch me, kiss me, something. But instead, I sat, and he helped me scoot my seat closer to the table. I couldn’t look away from him as he took the seat across from me.
We kept staring at each other, neither of us picking up forks to dig in.
“It smells good,” I said.
“Thank you,” he said breathlessly. “Who was he?”
I frowned, confused, ready to sleep, dig in to that amazing-looking food Sparrow had made, and fuck. “Who are you referring to?” I stifled a yawn.
“The guy you came out of the office with.”
“Oh, him.” I thumbed over my shoulder because it was the only gesture I could come up with at the moment. “That was… um…” I didn’t know what to say.
His frown turned severe. “Did you fuck him?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head adamantly. “He’s my ex-boyfriend, and now he’s with Court. You know Court, who we just ran into again in the hallway.”
“She’s with your ex?” he asked as if it were the most disgusting thing he’d ever heard.
I tried not to smile, even though I was happy he was on my side. “Yeah,” I said with a sigh.
His glare picked me apart. “And you’re not happy about it?”
I shrugged. “He’s a serial cheater.” I saw no need to tell him that Rich had been trying to fuck me seconds before he saw us.
“He wants you still,” Sparrow said.
Finally, I picked up my fork and spiraled zucchini pasta around the tines. “But I don’t want him.”
He nodded forcefully. “Good.”
Don’t look at him. Don’t look. Pen, don’t look.
I put the forkful of pasta into my mouth, and the flavors of fresh basil, garlic, pine nuts, and parmesan ignited my taste buds.
“Mmm,” I said, eyes closed as I chewed.
When I opened my eyes, he was watching me as if he was conflicted about something.
“What?” I asked.
He coughed to clear his throat and readjusted in his seat. “Tell me, why did you choose to become a neurosurgeon?” He sounded so formal. It was clear we were on a date without him officially asking me out on one.
“Because it’s the top of the food chain and I had to prove I’m worth a damn,” I replied. Jeez, I sounded bitter. As soon as those words left my mout
h, I pressed my lips together. I’d never revealed that to anyone. It wasn’t the whole truth, of course. It was just the answer that came out of me because of exhaustion.
I cut a plump scallop in half with my fork and shoved the delicate and sweet meat into my mouth. As I chewed, I wondered why he was looking at me with such a severe frown.
“You’re worth a damn,” he finally replied.
“How do you know? You barely know me.” Shit… again, wrong thing to say, Pen.
He smirked sort of naughtily. Whoa, my panties are melting some more.
“I asked around. Deb says you’re her best resident. She’s anxious about you finishing the program. She’s used to counting on you,” he said.
I was watching him with that faraway look in my eyes. I was choked up. I hadn’t known Deb felt that way about me.
“Then you saved Trey Sharp’s life. He’s been asking about you.” He cracked a smirk. “His friends want your number.”
I chortled. “I’ll take a date.” I’d said that because I wanted to see his reaction.
“You’re on a date,” he said.
We grinned at each other. My head felt floaty and my heart, light. Say something.
I ripped my gaze from his face and put it on one of the perfectly browned scallops. “What about you? Why did you become a neurosurgeon?”
“Same,” he said.
I looked at him again. “Same?”
“Same as you. I wanted to prove I was worth a damn.”
“To whom?” It was probably a question he should’ve asked me, but I’d thought of it first.
“Myself,” he said. “What about you?”
Why am I smiling? “To my mom, who is MIA, and to a father I never knew.” Shit. Why so fatalistic, Pen. Stop! I took a drink of the glass of bubbly mineral water next to my plate. “Sparkling water,” I said with surprise.
“Room service informed me that’s what you like to drink,” he said.
I snorted cynically. “So what is this?” I turned my head slightly. “Like a chase?”
“A chase?” he asked. I suspected he was feigning ignorance.
“You know, you’re the guy who likes the chase, the catch and release.” I could already feel the dread of him releasing me after fucking me, because I was certain I was going to let him fuck me.
“I’m not a chaser, Penina,” he said.
I wanted to fan myself, but I couldn’t show him how flustered I was by the way he said my name. I had always hated the sound of my full name but not anymore. He had just made it sound as sexy as hell.
“You’re not a chaser?” My high-pitched tone had gotten away from me—to bring it back, I took another drink of water.
“I’m not. I like you.”
“What do you like about me?” I asked, not believing him at all.
“You’re classy. You have a natural elegance. You’re smart. Kind. My patients rave about you.”
“They do?” I asked quietly.
He cracked a smile. “You like rounds.”
“I do.” I could hardly believe he’d noticed.
“You’re sexy. Very sexy.”
I was having a hard time breathing evenly as we stared at each other with fire and desire.
Then he shifted abruptly in his seat. “Penina…” he said as if he’d realized he pronounced it too gracefully earlier and wanted to take it back. “That’s an odd name. Do you know how you got it?”
I sniffed bitterly. “Yeah, that’s what you call the glob in your belly you never wanted or liked from the get-go.”
His sexy smile transformed into something more sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear that…”
When he trailed off, I could tell he wanted to call me Penina again but thought better of it.
I raised a hand. “It’s okay. Really. I’m being overly fatalistic this evening, which isn’t my style unless I’m past the point of exhaustion.”
Dr. Sparrow smiled. “I don’t like my name either.”
I jerked my head back. “Jake Sparrow? That’s the name of a leading man in a hospital soap opera.” I hoped my smile showed him that I was being witty, but he looked off as if he was in misery. “Or not.”
Suddenly, he put his smile back on. “So, Penina, how do you like your dinner?”
I was thankful that he’d changed the subject. “It’s delicious. You’re a good cook.”
He scratched his forehead nervously. “Thanks, but it wasn’t difficult.”
I narrowed my eyes thoughtfully. “But aren’t you exhausted? You’re at the hospital and in surgery more than any attending I’ve ever known.”
Again, that look of despair returned to his face. I suspected he was thinking about something, and whatever it was hadn’t come from a happy place.
“Sleeping’s difficult for me, Penina,” he said in a strained voice.
“Oh.” My body went rigid, and even though I wanted to eat another scallop, I felt immobilized by his admission. Not only that, but the way he’d said my name still made my heart flutter. I could hear him call me by the name I used to hate until he spoke it for the rest of my life.
“I want to make love to you,” he said finally.
I blinked, surprised. Then I looked down at my plate, constraining a smile. “You waste no time getting to the point, do you?”
“You can say no,” he said.
I didn’t look up because the level of my desire wouldn’t let me. If I saw his face, I would toss my plate across the table, rip my clothes off, and laid my naked body before him, presenting myself as the night’s dessert.
“Yes,” I said as I lifted my face. “Yes.” I needed to repeat it just in case he had any doubts how much I meant it.
Chapter Twelve
Penina Ross
Our gazes stayed stuck on each other. He rose. I dropped my fork and stood too. We kept staring at each other as we moved along the table. It was as if my feet were on autopilot and I was having an out-of-body experience.
Then we were face-to-face. So much yearning raced through me that I didn’t know what to do next. Dr. Sparrow wrapped me in an embrace, and I freely let my body melt against his. His lips brushed sensually against mine as our tongues softly stroked each other. The more we kissed, the more our breathing grew faster and more audible.
My body felt light as air. Total satiety was carrying me off to another dimension. Then Sparrow inhaled sharply against my mouth as he gripped my hips and yanked me against his firm cock. My lips still pressed against his, I gasped.
We stared into each other’s eyes long and hard. I knew he was thinking what I was thinking. There was no turning back. What I had desired for days was soon to come. A lengthy and intense seduction had made the moment happen.
My breaths were heavy, causing my breasts to rise and fall against his solid chest.
His long fingers stroked the side of my face as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful.”
I sighed, feeling my breath warm my lips, and whispered, “Thank you.”
So quickly, our mouths collided, and our tongues sank deeper into the flaming desire of each other’s mouths. We kept kissing as he lifted me off the floor and carried me. Through my daze, I could perceive my surroundings changing from the dimly lit hallway to a dusky bedroom. It wasn’t the one I’d been sleeping in, though. It was the largest room in the penthouse—the one in which I’d been looking for signs that Dr. Sparrow had occupied it while I was sleeping.
Dr. Sparrow guided me down onto the bed, spread my legs, and positioned himself on top of me. His rock-hard cock slid up my slit, applying pressure on the most sensitive spots of my pussy. A sigh arose from the depths of my throat and slid softly past my lips. He groped my breasts through my blouse then reached his hand down my pants, fingers under the crotch of my panties.
I shivered involuntarily as his fingers glided in and out of me. “Feels…”
“I’m too…” he whispered, then tongued me deeply.
After Dr. Sparrow came up for air, he pull
ed my T-shirt over my head. As I tasted his delicious tongue, he feverishly unhooked my bra, freeing my tits.
“Damn it,” he said, looking at my breasts as if he was overwhelmed by the sight of them. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to…” His hot, wet mouth came down over the tip of one. He sucked and nibbled until his tongue gently laved my nipple.
Suddenly, he stopped and crawled off of me. “I’ll get condoms. Finish getting undressed.”
He took off toward the bathroom, and I quickly shed my clothes. Once I was completely naked, I kicked the duvet down to the foot of the bed. The heavy bedding was getting in the way of our sexual movement.
Dr. Sparrow came back wearing only briefs. My eyes widened at the sight of his chest. The sexy doctor was muscular without being overworked. He wasn’t hairy either. Rich was like the abominable snowman. I hadn’t realized how much I liked a guy who wasn’t so furry until then. And his bulge… Shit, he must’ve had a horse dick tucked into his underwear. My pussy wept as I thought of his cock skimming my long-neglected walls.
He barely took his hooded gaze off of me as he sat the box of condoms on the nightstand. My mouth was caught open, and my body was left in suspense.
No more conversations needed to be had, and no foreplay was necessary. What was happening between us was pure sexual engagement.
My breaths hitched as he took off his underwear, freeing the thickest cock I’d ever seen. He’d already put a condom on it.
“You’re large,” I said.
Dr. Sparrow was too caught up in his lust to comment on what I had said. He got on the bed and positioned himself between my legs. Curling his arms around my thighs, he clamped them into place and slid his soft, warm, wet tongue over my clit.
“Oh,” I cried and clawed at the tight sheets.
He instantaneously made sensations blossom like wildflowers through my pussy. He moaned as he licked. Right away, I knew he wasn’t an amateur. Rich had a lot of sex with lots of women, but he wasn’t as competent at rousing pleasure as the sexy new attending.
Seduction (The Secret Billionaire Asher Christmas Duet Book 1) Page 8