Healing Touch: Play Doctor, Book 2 (10 page)

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’m sure one of our less successful students couldn’t wait to get rid of his required reading. Looks like it’s in mint condition. Never used.” He shook his head, chuckling. “Too bad for him. A bunch of our better students have used this thing to put the moves on their lab partners.”

“I’ve been procrastinating in reading those books myself. I was afraid that if I tried and nothing worked…”

“Having a possible solution on the shelf in case of emergency is better than having a dusty book written by know-it-alls who can’t fix your problem, right?” His wry grin lit her up inside. Someone who understood her, when had she ever found that before? More rare than an affordable instrument at a rummage sale, he was precious to her. Already.

“It’s a little freakish and sort of nice being around you, Becca and Kurt.” She smiled. “It’s like I hardly have to talk at all.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He braceleted her wrist with his fingers and tugged lightly, walking backward until they sank onto her couch. “We can snuggle in silence until you’re settled enough to try hitting the hay again. You need to catch up. How long has your sleep been disturbed?”

“Since my dad… Worse since I left Brad’s.”

“I can’t believe that asshole kicked you out.” Luke’s fingers curled into a fist.

She didn’t bother to correct his assumption.

“Though I’m glad he did. Getting away was the best thing you could have done.”

“I know. Believe me. I wasn’t planning to stay after…” Despite his understanding, she couldn’t bring herself to reveal the full circumstances of her exit yet.

“It’s okay.” He petted her hair, trailing his fingers on to her lower back. Every brush of his hand through the thin cotton separating their skin made her pray for courage. The intimacy of the contact jolted her into motion. She wormed closer. And ended up sitting in his lap, her head resting on his shoulder. He smelled nice, like a summer night, tinged with hints of gasoline and oil from his motorcycle. Warmth and strength surrounded her when he held her in his arms. “Save the hard stuff for Becca.”

“I don’t think so.” The possessiveness in her denial surprised them both. “She’s gotten enough
hard stuff
from you as far as I’m concerned.”

Luke laughed, his head tilting back to rest on the horrible old-lady floral print of her hand-me-down couch, which the previous tenant hadn’t bothered to lug down the three flights of stairs. The tan column of his neck tempted her to bite him, to mark him in some way. “Okay, not all of the hard stuff. And I was
trying
to be subtle, you know. Though with you on top of me… Sorry, not a lot of choice there. No room to hide what you do to me.”

“I like it.” She purred, in need of a distraction. It had been forever since she’d wanted a man like this. Not since the early days when she’d regarded Brad as her savior. Was she making the same mistake again or was this special? She had to find out. “C-can I kiss you?”

“That’s supposed to be my question.” He dragged his fingertips along her cheek then her jawbone. “I’m trying not to pressure you.”

“I’ve been thinking about how you taste since Saturday.” She licked her lips, eliciting a groan from him.

“Same goes.” One second he was relaxed and still. The next, he struck. His hands buried in her hair, spearing into the tresses. Luscious waves overflowed the space between his fingers. She’d always liked keeping her hair long. It seemed he appreciated it too. “Does it bother you for me to hold you like this?”

Brielle drew in a deep, steady breath when he guided her face first one way then the other, kissing her cheeks. Unused to a man asking for feedback, she hesitated before responding, “Not really.”

“That sounds too much like a yes for me.” He started to untangle himself from her.

“I meant that I’d much prefer it if you’d hurry up and give me my kiss already.” A boldness she’d never before experienced flourished inside her. Something about Luke encouraged her reckless side to tiptoe out from the deep, dark hole it’d been cowering in for her entire life.

“What the lady wants…” He didn’t bother to finish. Instead, his mouth covered hers, transporting her to a world filled with sensual delights.

The wet heat of his lips brushed against hers, barely there at first. He increased the intensity little by little. Butterfly kisses became a smoldering attempt to persuade her to open for him. When she complied, his deft tongue sneaked past her teeth, teasing her until soft cries bubbled from her throat. Peppermint chilled and sweetened his advance, tempting her to escalate their exchange from light and lingering to brash and boisterous. Answering groans from Luke encouraged her to peer into his wide, oh-so-blue eyes. From here, she could spot the flecks of silver brightening his irises.

Could she really affect him—a smart, kind, wealthy, funny, sensitive and extra-gorgeous man? She tried it again with similar, if elevated, results.

Finally, the need to breathe overrode her desire and curiosity.

Luke gasped right along with her. They looked like fish out of water. “Brielle.”

It was nearly impossible to answer when he performed an encore, sucking on her bottom lip. A tiny nip capped off the light suction.

After a bit, she managed to pry herself away from him. “Yeah, Luke?”

“You officially have my permission to kiss me whenever the hell you feel like it. As often as you like.” They leaned in simultaneously, meeting in the middle for another round of making out. Had she ever been given a gift as precious as this? She didn’t think so.

Brielle climbed to her knees, straddling Luke, so that every molecule of her body could align more precisely with his. They strained together.

Wonder overwhelmed her.

She indulged in the foreign sensation as long as possible, drawing away only to fill her lungs with air.

He nuzzled their noses together. “You know, one great way to reduce anxiety is by burning it off through physical exertion.”

Hell, it already felt as if she’d run a marathon with no training. Her chest was tight and her breathing ragged. Arms and legs wobbled, shaky and weak. Being vulnerable was not her strong suit. So she fell back on her trusty friend, humor. “You want to try Zumba at this time of night?”

Thick lashes on lowered lids did nothing to disguise the hunger banked in Luke’s stare. After a timeout, he said, “Hmm. You’re right, that’s probably not the best idea. Another good technique is anchoring. An easy way to think about it is that you’re training yourself to associate lying in your bed with good things about to happen instead of bad things. Focus on pleasure, not dread or panic, to break the cycle that you’ve gotten stuck in.”

“That sounds like heaven. But I’m not sure if I’m ready for anchoring yet.” She shivered in his hold. Parts of her gave the all clear, most of them residing below the belt. Meanwhile, her brain shouted at her to take things slow and steady. She’d only earned herself more issues by jumping from the frying pan to the fire with Brad. No need to repeat that performance.

“It doesn’t have to be about sex, Brielle.” The steam practically rising from him proclaimed it could be, though. Tempting.

“How else?” She tilted her head, attempting to focus.

“You replay a happy memory. Think about it over and over while making a gesture. Like putting your hand over your heart or touching the tip of your middle finger to the pad of your thumb.” Demonstrating, he caressed her sweetly. “Becca would talk to you while you were doing this. She’d guide your experience and help set the parameters. Essentially, she’d put you in a trance if your mind was receptive. That’s not necessary. It does seem to make the tool more effective, though. After a while, you would come to associate the gesture with the feelings. Then, when faced with a panic situation you’d repeat the gesture and recall the calmness, happiness or pleasure.”

She blinked. It sounded too good to be true. For so long, her mind had only been capable of horrible tricks, not clever ones. Besides, she didn’t have something other than this moment strong enough to consider anchoring. The vision would have to be powerful to overcome her fear. Even she could see that. Some of her euphoria bled out, leaving room for exhaustion to creep in.

“Brielle?”

“I’m too tired to think about all of that,” she mumbled as she collapsed on top of him. His chest rose, sure and steady beneath her once more, and the beating of his heart under her ear enticed her to close her eyes. The circuit he drew across her shoulders, along her ribs and back to the beginning soothed her.

Under it all, she yearned for more. Though banked, the fire he’d lit in her still burned. Maybe they could compromise. “Any objections to making a happy memory I could use later?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he murmured as he eliminated the gap between them by nudging her chin up and reclaiming her mouth.

Drowsiness gave way to the heaviness of arousal. She perked up as he hugged her to his chest. Would he be disappointed with the most she could give tonight? Torturing him wasn’t her intention. “You don’t mind, right? Will you be…okay?”

“Does it feel like I’m unhappy right now?” For the first time, he leveled a look at her that said she might be crazy. “I’m positive this is where I want to be and what I need to be doing at this moment in my life.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re never uncertain?” She patted his cheek.

“I’m not. Usually.” A frown twisted his lips. “With you, that’s another story. I won’t risk hurting you. So I’m not quite sure of the best course of action. You fuck with my perspective. Have from the very first moment you scooted down the grocery store aisle and into my life. That’s why I called Becca in to help. Then again, I’m positive this has the potential to be the most extraordinary relationship I’ve ever had.”

“Do we have a relationship?” She tilted her head.

“We will, if I have anything to say about it.” Luke’s hand sank lower on her back until he cupped her ass. She shivered. “Do I need to persuade you?”

Her mouth opened to refute the ridiculous claim, yet nothing came out. Because he chose that moment to dip his fingers below the hem of her nightgown and touch the bare skin of her thigh. Thank God she’d shaved. Following their first kiss, she’d upped her regimen from alternating days to every morning, just in case. Funny, after all this time, she hadn’t been looking for someone.

And now he was here.

His other hand gravitated to her chest. He massaged her breast through the purple-polka-dot material of her pajamas while his head dipped, allowing him to dust more kisses over the hollow of her collar bone. Then lower to the top swells of her breast just above the fabric there.

When the fingers of his first hand wandered upward, prodding at the edge of her panties, she gasped.

“Brielle? Should I stop? Do you need to talk through this? Happening so fast. Just feels right.” He seemed to struggle to say more.

“Less chatting. No thinking. Lots more of that wiggly thing with your tongue and the poky thing with your finger. Right now.” She grabbed his lapels and refused to let go. If she was going to chase a tiger, she might as well pull its tail.

Luke didn’t disappoint. He slid the crotch of her utilitarian, white-cotton briefs as far to the side as he could make the fabric go. The damn stuff might as well be a chastity belt for all it budged.

“Here, let me help.” She lifted up enough to strip them off and fling them away.

Then Luke contorted his hand until she poised on the edge of a life-changing decision.

While he paused, she didn’t. She lowered herself onto him.

Both of them moaned when his finger pressed into her. Slickness guaranteed his thick digit didn’t cause her any discomfort. The moment he breached her, he sprang back into action.

“Jesus.” He kissed the spot below her ear, setting off fireworks in her system. “You’re tight. And hot. Soft. So damn smooth.”

His finger retreated then spread her wetness around her lips and clit, making her slippery. Each time he touched her, he slid and glided over sensitive flesh. She whimpered and clung to him, afraid of letting go now that she’d found him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Brielle.” He growled against her temple.

“Let me touch you too.” She squirmed until she could jam her hand between them, roving down his solid chest to the even harder ridge of flesh beneath the denim shielding him from her.

“Not yet,” he winced. “It’s not going to take much. I’ve been dreaming of this for days. Hell, weeks.”

“Me too.” And of sleeping, safe, in his arms. But he didn’t need to know that. No reason to frighten him off now.

And then she couldn’t speak, even if she’d wanted to. He examined all of her, tracing her valleys and folds, stimulating every inch of the area between her legs as effortlessly as he riled her heart with his innocent nuzzling against her mouth. Sweet kisses blended with the pure passion swelling inside her, reaching dangerously near her heart.

Reverence flowed through his caresses. He manipulated her body as though it was delicate and priceless, yet with enough finesse to have her seeing stars. A second finger enhanced his exploration. He filled her with probing strokes of his hand.

When she arched in response, she mashed their bellies and chests together.