by Anya Summers
He sat on his bed, bandaged up, one arm completely out of commission. Yet, she hesitated because of his potency. Just being near him, seeing the outline of his erect cock, made pleasured zings ping low in her belly.
He was a patient, dammit. She could not lust after a patient. It was wrong and unethical.
“Well? Did you lie to me?” he said, the dark slashes of his brows drawn together in an angry scowl.
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t lie.”
“Well then, I’m waiting,” he challenged, daring her and calling her a coward at the same time.
Grace steeled herself. It was just a kiss they’d agreed on. Nothing more. She approached him like she would a problem that needed solving. The best way to get the job done was to be quick about it, and retreat. No harm. No foul.
She put her hand on his wide shoulders. Her pulse hammered in her throat. His face was one of strength, with a square, firm jaw dusted with black stubble. His nose was slightly crooked and looked like it might have been broken at one time. He had a high forehead, with a full head of thick, black hair that was weeks past needing a trim.
Her gaze dropped to his wide mouth. The bottom lip was fuller, and just made to be sucked on. She lowered her head until there was an inch of space between them. His warm breath washed over her face, and need pinged through her core.
A kiss freely given—that was all it had to be. Grace pressed her mouth against his, sampled his flavor, and moaned in the back of her throat. He tasted like hundred proof whiskey and decadent sin. What she had intended to be a light brush of lips turned into a heady, hot tangle. That bottom lip of his was just made to be sucked on. She slipped her tongue inside his mouth to dance with his.
Before she could end it and retreat to a minimum safe distance, Emmett assumed command. The tenor shifted, and he consumed her with his kiss. That was the only way she could describe it. One minute she was enjoying the kiss—more than she should have—and in the next, she was deaf, dumb, and blind to anything but his mouth moving over hers.
He kissed with a dark passion that seemed hell-bent on possessing her soul.
A wave of potent need slammed into her. Grace threaded her hands into his soft hair to imprison his mouth so he would keep kissing her. She wanted, craved what she was certain was a desire that would reach into the far corners of her heart and satisfy every naughty, illicit fantasy she had.
Emmett was savage in his greedy possession, as wild and untamed as they came. His carnal liplock unleashed a passion inside her that she usually kept under lock and key. Only in her darkest fantasies had she ever felt its like, and he was exposing those with every thrust of his tongue. His dare had blasted the lock she’d kept on those apart.
Grace felt like her body was being incinerated from the inside out. She wanted, needed more. Before she realized what she was doing, she straddled his lap, and felt the decadent press of his swollen cock against her sex. His hand cupped her ass, grinding her hips against his. She whimpered at the eruption of pleasure flooding her center. Grace felt her sex go damp as Emmett ravished her.
He tore his mouth from hers, and placed open-mouthed, hungry kisses along her neck, leaving a trail of scorched flesh in their wake. When he reached her cleavage, his mouth surrounded the hard point of her nipple through the fabric of her tank.
Oh god!
Her head dropped back as she arched and fed him the mound. At the sharp nip of his teeth, pleasure arced along her spine to pool in her groin.
“Let me have you, Grace,” Emmett growled. His hand dug into her hip.
His deep baritone snapped her out of the sexual haze she’d been drowning in.
“Let me go. I did as you asked.” Her breaths came out as sharp, ragged pants.
Emmett released her. She scrabbled off him and onto her feet, backing away like he was a bomb she had almost set off. Even injured, he was the most potent man of her acquaintance. What had she been thinking, agreeing to that kiss? And then she had let it get out of hand.
“I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened,” she apologized.
His narrowed gaze watched for any sign that she would change her mind, as if he was prepared to pounce the moment she wavered from her stance. And good god, but it took all her resolve to not put her hands back on him. His inky hair was disheveled from her hands, his lips swollen from their kiss, and his cock tented his boxer briefs. Her sex quivered at the sight of all those hard inches.
She clenched her hands into fists to keep herself from reaching for him and the sinful, seductive temptation he presented.
And then the dratted man shoved his boxers down far enough to free his erection.
His cock was beautiful: long, wide, and thick, with a crown that appeared smooth as silk. He closed his hand around his shaft and began stroking it. Grace stared, mesmerized by the sight.
“I can tell you want me, want this. Come ride me, and it’s all yours.”
She stood frozen, burning, aching to feel that hard length stretching her, invading her, making her cry out in ecstasy, and watched him masturbate, fist his cock like he was giving her instructions in how to touch him. She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Then get the fuck out,” he growled, and jutted his chin in the general direction of the front door.
Grace needed no other urging. She spun on her heel, grabbed her purse and car keys from the kitchen table, then raced outside, past a startled Colt.
“Everything all right, doc?”
“Yep, I just have to go,” she replied, not stopping for pleasantries. Once in her car, she gunned the engine and tore out of her parking spot.
Night had fallen while she had been with Emmett. What had she been thinking, pawing at the man that way? Agreeing to his little bargain in the first place? She should have forced the medicine down his throat, and not agreed to his cockamamie deal.
Except, when he’d dangled the carrot of being a good patient for a kiss, she’d not been able to turn her nose up at it. Because in that moment, she had yearned to kiss him. She’d thought of little but him since his advent into her office the prior day.
She doubted the image of him stroking his cock, masturbating in front of her, would be something she would forget anytime soon. The damn memory was already on a recorded loop in her mind. She glanced at the passenger seat and swore.
Son of a bitch!
My medical bag!
In her hurry to leave, she had left it at his house. On his bed, to be precise. Which meant she had to go back there and face him after their erotic interlude…
But not tonight. It would be fine there overnight, because if she returned with her sex aching for what he was offering, she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t do exactly what he asked of her: ride him like a cowgirl. And the sheer fact that a part of her brain tried to figure out how she could accomplish it without injuring him further proved she had lost her mind the moment she stepped inside his cabin. He tempted her in ways no man before him had done.
That kiss was the most carnal of her existence. She pressed her fingers against her swollen lips, where she could still taste him.
She had been a fool to bargain with him, even though a part of her wondered if she would get a chance to kiss him again.
This was not the way to begin life in a new town—by having sex with one of her first patients—no matter how much she might enjoy it. Because after that one taste, she already knew without a doubt that he walked on the sensual dark side, and sex with Emmett would be wild, decadently naughty, and passionately dirty.
5
Emmett came along with the sound of the front door slamming shut. Pleasure mixed with pain. He tossed his head back as he ejaculated thinking of the way Grace had looked standing before him, watching him stroke his dick. And the hunger written over her face. The way her lips had been swollen from the kiss, and the wet spot on her chest where he’d sucked on her nipple.
He bet if he’d not been as harsh, he could have enticed her to
ride him. It was as plain as day that she wanted him. Emmett glanced at his now flaccid cock and the spunk coating his abs.
His front door opened again. What the hell? Was he running a hotel? Or was the doctor back?
“Emmett? Did you piss the doc off?” Colt shouted from the living room.
“Be out in a minute,” he grumbled. He stumbled into the bathroom and cleaned himself up. Using a wet washcloth, he removed the spunk from his chest and abdomen, then adjusted his boxer briefs back into position.
Emmett padded out into the living room and glared at Colt. “What the hell are you doing?”
Colt raised a brow. “Cooking you dinner.”
“I didn’t think you could cook.” But hell, he thought, if he couldn’t satisfy one hunger, the other would work just as well.
“I can’t. But Mrs. Gregory sure as shit can. She sent me with supplies and heating instructions. Please tell me that’s not how you were dressed to greet the doc?”
“And if it is, what of it?” If Emmett had not been dressed in this manner, he doubted he would have gotten Grace to agree to his bargain. And that would be a damn bleeding shame, because now he knew what she tasted like. It had only whet his appetite for more. By the time his shoulder healed, he would have that woman in his bed.
Colt wiped a frustrated hand over his face. “Could you, I don’t know, at least try to act somewhat civilized around the poor woman? No wonder she ran out of your place like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. What did you say to her?”
“Nothing.” At least, nothing he deigned to share with Colt. She’d wanted him. It had been crystal clear, both on her face and by the way her body reacted. Yet she’d denied them both. It was a first for Emmett—for a woman that passionate and aroused, to throw up a stop sign.
“Like hell, it’s nothing,” Colt said.
“What did Mrs. Gregory make for dinner?” Emmett wanted to change the subject, steer it away from Grace. Otherwise, he would think about her. Thinking about her tended to push him toward arousal, and while he didn’t mind fisting one out, he preferred willing flesh.
“Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables. And I’m to tell you that if you’re a good boy and eat all your veggies, there’s a slice of apple pie for you.”
Mrs. Gregory’s apple pie was damn near legendary. Emmett’s mouth watered as his hunger shifted toward food instead of a woman. “That lady’s a national treasure.”
“Why don’t you put some pants on while I get this all heated up. Or do you need help with your pants?” Colt asked him.
Emmett sneered. “I don’t need your help.” At least, he didn’t think he did. He knew where he’d messed up trying to put them on for Grace.
“Fair enough.”
Emmett headed back into his room and glanced at the sweats he had left on the floor after his earlier mishap—the mishap that had led to having his tongue down Grace’s throat and her body writhing against him. He wished like hell he could have convinced her to do more. The way she’d fled, it was doubtful he would get her alone again.
He snatched the pants off the floor, turned to sit on the bench at the foot of his bed, and spied her medical bag resting on the mattress. A smile spread over his mouth. In her hurry to escape, she’d left it behind. If he could use both his hands right now, he’d be rubbing them together.
Because the truth was, the moment her lips had touched his, he’d felt an internal click and only one thought had surfaced: that she belonged to him. His brain, body, and soul all declared: mine.
And now, knowing she had to return, Emmett felt lighter than he had since getting injured. This would give him a chance to continue seducing her. He sat on the bench and wrestled himself into the sweatpants. By the time he had finished, and headed back into the main living space, Colt had the meal on the table.
“So that doc, she sure is a pretty thing,” Colt stated as he dug into the meal.
Emmett grunted. The dude had no clue. With passion blazing in her eyes, she was devastatingly gorgeous, and he had a feeling she was a real vixen between the sheets.
“I’m going to offer her the ranch as a place to host a celebration of life ceremony for her grandfather, and invite the whole town.”
“Why? Thought you said the other day that old Doc O’Neal stated he didn’t want any funeral arrangements,” Emmett said.
“That’s true. But this won’t be a funeral but a party. And it’s a good way to welcome the new doc to town.” Colt sipped his beer with a thoughtful look. Too thoughtful.
With his fork halfway up to his mouth, Emmett asked, “Why does it matter to you?”
“She’s an intriguing woman—beautiful, and from what I can see, single. I’m not sure if she would be into dominance, but I want to find out,” Colt said with a shrug, as if it were a forgone conclusion that he would ask the doctor out.
Emmett fought back the urge to snarl, howl, and beat Colt bloody single handed. Grace belonged to him. Seething, he snapped, “I think you need to back the fuck off and leave her be.”
“Why? You gotta thing for the good doc?” Colt asked.
“I just think you need to leave that one alone.”
Colt clapped and leaned back in his chair wearing a shit-eating grin. “You do! Will wonders never cease? Is that why she ran out of here like a scared rabbit? You put some moves on her?”
“I didn’t do anything that she didn’t want.” Colt could piss off for all Emmett cared.
“Ha ha, I love it. She turned you down, didn’t she? I bet she wouldn’t turn me down, and I could have her eating out of my hand in no time.” Colt tipped his head back and laughed.
“Laugh it up all you want. I wager that I will have her riding me before the month is over, and that I’ll get her into Cabin X,” Emmett challenged, ready to stake his claim on her. He’d never been possessive when it came to women, but Grace, with that one kiss, had changed all that.
Colt snorted. “There’s only three weeks left in the month, and you’re injured. It’s a sucker’s bet that you will lose. But fine. I bet you: in three weeks, I will have claimed Grace as my submissive.”
It could have been the painkiller talking, and the wildly possessive streak that was rearing its ugly head that pushed Emmett, but he believed Grace was his. And he planned on claiming her. Besides, what was a little competition among friends? “Then you’ve got nothing to lose. Deal; in three weeks, she’ll be mine.”
Colt considered him for a moment. “You’re on.” He toasted Emmett with his beer. “May the best Dom win.”
Emmett toasted him back with his water. “That will be me. We should decide on a prize.”
“You mean besides bragging rights?”
Emmett nodded. “How about the loser pays for dinner for two at Silas’s Steakhouse, with their most expensive bottle of wine.”
“You don’t like wine.”
“I might not prefer it, but I’m sure the doc would enjoy it,” Emmett said with a smirk.
“I think we can do better than that. The dinner and a night’s lodging at the fancy ski lodge,” Colt upped the ante.
“Done. And the bet stays between us. No one else needs to know about it. Not Mav or Duncan or Lincoln, none of those boneheads. And not a word gets back to the doc on this,” Emmett said, doubtful that Grace would think kindly of their bet. But as he wasn’t asking her to marry him, just to get her into bed and spend some time with her in Cabin X, he didn’t see the harm in it.
“Deal. It seems I might have some catching up to do,” Colt said, considering Emmett with a pensive expression.
“We need some ground rules.” That didn’t mean Emmett wouldn’t use every trick in his arsenal to come out the winner, because he would.
“Like what?”
“No fucking her during the three weeks. Unless she asks for it or initiates it.” This would give his ribs and shoulder enough time to heal so that he could fuck her without fear of re-injuring himself. Granted, he bet there were ways ar
ound his injuries, like his cowgirl fantasy.
Colt rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I agree. And what about the rest? Oral, etc.”
“I say that everything else is on the table. But we also need to allow each other space to seduce her into making her choice, meaning we don’t screw up a night out or in with her while she’s with one of us.”
“Agreed. That makes it fair. And if she makes the choice for us before the three weeks is up?” Colt asked.
“If she wants to go all cowgirl on me, I’m not going to dissuade her. I say if that happens, the Dom she fucks first is declared the winner of the bet.” Because that will be me.
“But what if she decides to give both of us a test drive?” Colt asked.
Emmett hadn’t considered that. The prim doctor didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would screw more than one guy at a time. Besides, he planned to make sure he not only got there first, but ended up as the only one. “I say we cross that bridge if and when it arises. We need to be honest with each other; give the other a status report on our progress at the end of each week.”
“Agreed. You want a handicap, given your injuries?”
Emmett snorted. “Please. Like I need it.”
“Your funeral. If you’re done, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for pie,” Colt said, rising with his empty plate.
“Bring it on.” Emmett handed him his empty one, leaving the double meaning hanging in the air.
Emmett had changed his initial assessment of his forced downtime because of his injuries. The next few weeks weren’t going to be boring at all. They were going to be thrilling.
And before the three weeks were done, the doc would ride him.
6
Instead of spending her Sunday unpacking her things in the house she’d inherited along with her grandfather’s practice, Grace left the tidy suburban neighborhood and headed to Emmett’s cabin. She still couldn’t believe the man had had her so tangled up last night that she had forgotten to grab her medical bag. If it didn’t carry sentiment with it, she would leave it there and ask that he bring it in at his next scheduled appointment.