Heart Surgeon To Single Dad. Janice Lynn

reached for his hand. “We both know what we want, and it isn’t a relationship.” There. She’d said it. There could be no confusion. “So, truly, your comments, while gentlemanly, are a waste of valuable time when you could be impressing me in ways I’d appreciate much more.” Her boldness surprised her, but good grief, he seemed intent on being a gentleman when what she wanted was a rogue lover setting her body on fire. “My room is on the eleventh floor.” She reached over and pressed the button. “Are you getting off with me or not?”

      * * *

      Despite her brave invitation, Natalie’s hands trembled as she slid her card into the key slot. Her heart pounded as the little green lights flashed and she twisted the handle, opening the door to let Matthew into her hotel room.

      Even as her feet moved, carrying her inside, she asked herself how this worked. Did she go to the bathroom and freshen up? Did he? Did she just take off her clothes and get into bed, as Jonathan had always preferred?

      Once they were inside the room and she heard him secure the lock, she turned to him, hoping to break the silence that had enveloped them on their ascent to her room.

      Before she could get a word out, Matthew pushed her back a couple of steps to sandwich her between the wall and his hard body, his mouth covering hers. There was nothing slow, indecisive or gentlemanly in his touch.

      Finally, she thought.

      His mouth was ravenous. His hands roaming over her body voracious. His lean hips pressing against her belly giving proclamation of just how much he wanted her.

      She kissed him, touched him with equal intensity, running her hands over his arms, his shoulders, cupping his face in her hands as his kiss deepened.

      One little kiss and they’d gone straight to fast and furious.

      Ha. There was nothing little about how Matthew was kissing her. Big. Huge. Gigantic. That was how his kisses felt.

      That was how his body felt grinding against her.

      Fireworks went off in her head, in her chest, her whole body, at his mouth moving over hers, at his hands sliding over her, tugging her blouse from her skirt and letting in a swoosh of welcome cool air across her sensitized flesh.

      “I can’t believe you’re here, that we’re doing this,” she murmured as he traced kisses along her neck, her collarbone. She dug her fingers into his hair.

      “You aren’t changing your mind, are you?” he breathed against the indentation at her throat, his tongue darting out to dip into the sensitive flesh.

      Natalie quivered.

      “No. Never.” She arched against his mouth. “This is what I have played over and over in my mind today.”

      What she needed. Crazy, but she did need him—this virtual stranger who was setting her body on fire. His touch, his kiss, his full attention. His body grinding against hers, hard, lean, thrilling.

      “Tell me what you want, Natalie,” he coaxed, pushing her blouse off her shoulders and letting the silky material pool around her red heels, revealing her lacy white camisole and matching bra beneath. Cupping her bottom, he bent, kissing the valley between her breasts. “Tell me what you’ve been imagining us doing.”

      “That,” she breathed, running her fingers into his thick, inky dark hair and holding him to her breast. “I like that.”

      That. That. That, her body screamed.

      “Me, too.” Pushing aside her camisole and bra, he took a puckered nipple into his mouth and gave a gentle tug.

      Natalie almost died. Or exploded. Or imploded. Or all of the above, so many sensations shot through her electrified body. His hands held urgency as he continued to caress her, his mouth claiming everything in its passionate path. Within breathless minutes he pushed her skirt up her hips to bunch at her waist so he could slide his hands inside her panties to cup her bottom once more.

      Yeah, she wanted that, too.

      His hands were hot on her skin, electrifying. She wanted him. Desperately. She kissed him with that desperation. Touched him with that desperation. Moved her body against his with that desperation. Her fingers found their way to his waist, to where he strained against his dress pants’ zipper. After a moment’s fumbling, she had his pants to where she could touch him. She explored what she craved to feel deep inside.

      “Natalie,” he groaned. Or maybe he’d growled.

      Either way, she’d never heard her name said as Matthew had just said it. Had never felt the power filling her at how he responded to her slightest touch.

      “I like this, too,” she whispered close to his ear, in awe at how free she felt to touch him, at how uninhibited to give and take as she pleased. She’d never felt this freedom with Jonathan. She had always followed his lead rather than blazing a path of her own. “I like touching you and feeling your reaction and knowing I did that.”

      He mumbled something against her throat, where his mouth was wreaking havoc on her nervous system, but she didn’t catch his words. They didn’t matter. His body was telling her all she needed to know.

      “I like what you’re doing,” she continued, barely recognizing her voice, but further emboldened by the fervor of his kisses. “I like the way you’re touching me, as if you need to touch me.” She’d never felt more desirable than in this moment, than the way his touch made her feel. He made her feel beautiful, desirable, wanton even. Unlike anything she’d ever felt or would possibly ever feel again. The knowledge promised ecstasy.

      “That makes two of us,” he assured her, between more ardent kisses.

      “I like the way you’re looking at me,” she continued, her voice breathy, her fingers tightening around him. “As if you want to put every detail of me to memory.”

      * * *

      Matthew didn’t have to put every detail of Natalie to memory.

      She was already there.

      Every delectable inch of her.

      He had no doubt he’d never forget what was happening. She was timeless, beautiful. Unforgettable.

      Barely hanging on to his sanity, he took her hands into his, kissed her fingertips, then pressed against her. Eyes locked with his, her fingers moved to his shoulders, kneaded deep into his muscles as he grazed her lips with his teeth.

      “More,” she breathed, arching into his touch. “I want more.”

      Completely caught between him and the wall, she shifted her hips against him, pressing her upper body against the wall to give added pressure to the sensuous contact between their bodies.

      A long leg slid up his, wrapped itself around his waist, pressing her pelvis more fully against where he throbbed.

       Heaven help him.

      They were barely inside her hotel room door and he was about to rip off her panties and take her like a madman. He’d meant to take her slow, to kiss her all over, and when she was ready, take them both over the edge.

      Her body was ready now.

      He could feel her damp heat burning into him and that reality undid every good intention he had of slow. Her mouth was against his now, hard and demanding. Her hands tugged at his shirt, managing to pull the material loose. He wasn’t sure if she’d unbuttoned it or popped every button. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was having her.

      She made him manic, illogical, driven by physical need in ways he didn’t understand.

      “Now,” she urged, her fingernails raking over his back, then gripping his buttocks to pull him tighter against her. “I want you inside me now.”

      Matthew didn’t need to be told twice. Supporting her weight between his body and the wall, he reached into his sagging back pocket for his wallet,