Instant Gratification (16 page)

H
e followed her. Of course he followed, Emma thought. She could hear the squeak of his wet boots on the floor behind her as she moved into the small office and opened the closet door. The closet was almost larger than the office, and she blindly reached out for the set of sweats she kept there.

Because that was why she was covered in goose bumps. She was cold.

Yeah, and she was also the Tooth Fairy.

When the small single overhead light bulb flicked on, she turned.

Stone stood in the doorway of the closet, one hand still raised, holding the chain to the light. She’d intended to dress in the dark, but what the hell, he’d already seen everything she had to show. She tugged off her blouse, and met his gaze, surprised to see not just blazing heat, but also a baffled affection, one that really plowed into her, staggering her back a step until she came up against the wall and the large storage bin that held God knew what.

He came toward her, gently pushing a stack of boxes out of his way, making the rather large closet seem small with his presence.

And getting smaller.

He took the sweats from her hands and set them aside. “Hey,” she protested. “Changing here.”

He unhooked her bra, took in what he’d uncovered, and let out a breath of appreciation as he dipped his head.

“Stone—”

“You’re hurt. I wanted to kiss it better.” His mouth covered a breast, his fingers danced down her quivering belly as his tongue flicked a nipple. Without missing a beat in teasing her into an instant puddle of need and desire, he opened her pants and let them fall.

“I’m not hurt there.”

“I don’t know that for sure.” His fingers hooked her bikini panties and slid them down, an action that wrenched another moan of appreciation from him. “God, look at you.”

“I—”

She broke off as he very gently lifted her onto the storage bin.

“I need to check you out more thoroughly.”

She was completely naked. He wasn’t. “The damn thing is cold.”

He smiled. “I’ll warm you up.” Making good on his word, he dropped to his knees between hers and slid his warm hands beneath her bottom, cupping her as he pressed his mouth to an inner thigh. “Looking good so far…”

Oh, God
. She whispered his name, sounding a little frantic to her own ears. She had no idea how she could want him like this—in a closet!—but she did. Even her pain was gone, though he seemed very aware of her injury, and took great care to make sure she stayed still and that he didn’t jar her. When he kissed her other thigh, she let out a needy little whimper, watching as he pulled her to him so that his mouth could have its merry way with her.

With one languorous stroke of his tongue after another, he wound her up, tighter and tighter. Her hands were in his hair now, her only anchor in a spinning world as he dragged her into a pool of sheer sensation. “
Stone
—”

“Yeah, you’re going to be okay. Did you know you taste like heaven?” he murmured against her wet flesh, his talented, greedy mouth very busily driving her to the edge and holding her there with nothing more than his velvety hot tongue. In less than two minutes, she was gasping for breath, panting his name. “Stone, I’m going to—”

“Yes. I want you to.”

She couldn’t have stopped it to save her life. It started in her toes. They curled, and her body tightened like an arrow, and just as he sucked her into his mouth, she exploded. He held her through the most intense orgasm of her life, coaxing her down slowly. Gently.

When her muscles stopped shuddering and finally went still, he raised his head and looked at her with a fierce pleasure and intensity that nearly had her coming again.

He pulled a condom from his pocket and stripped off his shirt. As he unzipped and shucked, she blessed the light because he was so magnificently made, she could have stared at his body all day.

She took his condom and rolled it on him, prompting a few low, roughly moaned oaths from him and a shiver of anticipation from her. He wrapped her legs around his waist and stood up with her in his arms. Pressing her back against the closet wall, where she was cushioned by several hanging coats, he sank into her with one mind-blowing, soul-searing thrust that had them both gasping, swearing,
dying
.

She was in a closet, closed off from the world except for Stone, and it was the most sensual, erotic thing she’d ever done.

He began to move and it rocked her world. He rocked her world, and she set her head back against the wall, arching to meet him as he pushed into her again.

And again.

He was so deep inside her that she could feel his heart pounding in tune with hers, and still she couldn’t get enough. His mouth claimed hers, hard and deep, and she gave him everything she had, which was new and more than a little terrifying but in that moment she didn’t care. From day one he’d been there for her, always, strong and solid and on her side like no one else ever had. From day one, there’d been a bond, one that had only grown stronger, and she clutched at him, needing him, needing this. She was breathing crazily, and he was too, harsh and rough in her ear as his body moved within hers. “God, Stone.”

“I know.”

“You—I—” She broke off, closing her eyes to better absorb it all. “Again. I’m going to again.”

Apparently the words were all he’d needed. His mouth skimmed her jaw as he tightened his grip on her, pressing his face in the crook of her neck with a low, unintelligible groan as he stiffened, giving himself up to her. He took her with him, and she surrendered everything, every bit of her, heart and soul right there in the closet.

They stayed like that for long moments, him cradling her against him, her muscles still spasming around him, until finally he stirred, pressing a kiss to her jaw. “You okay?”

“Yes.” She let go of him, but his arms tightened on her as he lightly ran his mouth along her throat. “Mmm. You always smell good.”

That was nice, this was all incredibly nice, and it was almost too much for her. If she stayed like this with him, she’d start thinking, and thinking about this, about him, could only lead to
hurt. Not wanting that, not wanting to do or say anything to that dark, deep look in his eyes, the one sending warning signals to her still out-to-lunch brain, she stirred.

“Don’t move,” he protested huskily. “Not yet.”

She had to. Had. To. “I have a hanger poking me in the back and my bare ass is against the wall. It’s time to move.”

“In a sec.” His mouth lazily skimmed over her shoulder, making his way toward a nipple that, unbelievably, hardened for him.

Even more unbelievably, her eyes rolled in the back of her head, and of its own accord, her body arched, giving him the access he needed. Even her face lifted, rising up for another kiss.

Good God. Someone send her a raft, she was going down…

Stone was melting in pleasure. Emma’s tongue was warm and sweet, and danced to his, and he was still buried deep inside her. He was loving all of it, until suddenly she put her hand on his chest and started to disentangle herself. He tried to hold onto her but she gave him the look, the one that said back off, and with a sigh, he let her go.

She immediately turned from him, which gave him a fantastic view of her world-class ass as she began looking for her clothing. “This,” she muttered, “is becoming ridiculous. I have got to start taking my clothes off in a more civilized nature.”

“Civilized?”

“Yes.” She shook out her wrinkled, wet blouse. “And hanging things up would be good too.”

“You think you should be able to stop and hang up each piece of clothing as it comes off.” He nodded even though he thought it was the stupidest idea he’d ever heard.

“It would be helpful.”

He laughed at her, at himself, then bent with her when she
went for her pants. He put his hands on her arms and kissed her, kissed her long and deep and wet, and when he pulled back, they were both breathing hard again. It would have been pretty damn ego-boosting at how fast he could get her all worked up except she didn’t want to be worked up to begin with. “Tell me how the hell we’re supposed to do
that
,” he demanded softly, “and think rationally at the same time.”

She blinked, as if surprised at the question. “Well, I’ve never actually had this particular problem before. I’ve always been able to maintain some composure.”

He stared at her, then shook his head. “Who have you been sleeping with? Robots?”

Not the right thing to ask, given the way her eyes cooled. She turned away from him. “Not robots, no.”

He stared at her stiff, proud shoulders and sighed. She hadn’t given herself to anyone else in a long time, and when she had, it’d been Spencer, who while an excellent friend, apparently hadn’t inspired any wild passion. Before that, maybe another doctor, someone fancy and important, maybe someone on a schedule similar to hers. They’d probably booked their sex on their Blackberries, maybe even had their assistants book it, all “civilized.” “Emma.”

She didn’t look at him as she pulled on the dry sweats and hung up her wet things, so he put on his wet clothes with a wince. There was nothing worse than putting on wet clothes after very satisfying sex, except for maybe putting on wet clothes after
not
having very satisfying sex. “Emma.”

Nothing.

He turned her to face him. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes unhappy, and his stomach clenched as he tried to pull her in.

“Okay, whoa.” She pointed at him. “No more of that.”

“The hugging?”

“The looking at me like I mean something to you. The soft,
sexy voice that makes it so I can’t think. The touching. The kissing. The…rest. Most definitely the rest.” She exited the closet, heading to the reception area, where she pulled open the door for him, setting off the ceramic cowbells.

It’d stopped raining, but water still dripped off the eaves. He walked to where she stood in the doorway, purposely crowding her. “Can’t help the looking at you like you mean something, because you do.”

“Stop.”

“Because…?”

“Because it’s a mistake. And because I don’t like to make mistakes. Look,” she said on a sigh, searching for words. “Starting something with you wouldn’t be right. I’ve already got one foot out the door. I’m only here for my father. That’s it.”

“Sure about that?”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, seems to me that you could have told him no. You could have hired another doctor to run the place. But you didn’t. You came. I think you did because you wanted to connect.”

“I connect plenty. I’m connected to work. I’m connected to Spencer. I was connected with my mom.”

“Your mom is gone,” he said very gently, taking her hand when she whirled away. “Spencer is a man who by your own admissions is someone who doesn’t stick. And—”

“I’ve heard enough.”

“And,” he went on anyway, “work doesn’t count. So the question stands, Emma. How exactly are you connected right now?”

“You think you have me all figured out.” She yanked free. “But you don’t. You don’t know me.”

“I’m starting to know you plenty. I know, for instance, that you swim like a fish, that you’re insanely competitive, a crappy driver, and that you’re amused by people afraid of needles.”

She met his gaze. “That’s all superficial stuff.”

“I’d know more, but you’re pretty careful of yourself.”

“Yeah.” She let out a low breath and looked away. “I guess it’s hard to be insulted by the truth.”

“Look, I know you like challenges,” he said very quietly, stepping close again because he liked being close, lifting her face because he liked to see her eyes. “So here’s a big one for you.”

“I’m not making another bet. I keep losing.”

“You’ll win this one. Let me know you. Let me in.”

“Stone.”

“Try connecting, Emma, with me. Come on, what could it hurt? Unless, of course, you’re afraid.”

Her gaze hit his, inadvertently revealing to him the truth, that she wasn’t afraid of much, but she most definitely was of this.

Them.

“Is that it?” he pressed. “Did I find something the tough, badass New York doc fears?”

“Oh, you want to mock my fears now?” she asked, clearly trying to throw him off the track with her ironic tone. “Really?”

Willing to laugh at himself, he grinned. “Okay, but at least I know mine.”

She made a soft disparaging sound. “This is ridiculous.”

“Uh huh. Because you’re afraid.”

“Say that one more time, say it to my face and see what happens.”

“You’re afraid,” he taunted softly.

“You are impossible.”

“See? You’re getting to know me already.” He smiled when she laughed. “Come on, Emma. Give me a try.”

Staring up at him, she shook her head.

“You might like it. You might like me.”

“Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes.” He was also smart enough to know when to back off and let a woman think. With a steady purpose, he leaned in and kissed her once, slowly, with just a hint of heat, and walked away.

He hoped like hell the gamble paid off.

E
mma was still in an odd and conflicting state of arousal and confusion that night when Spencer got back, dropped off by TJ, not Stone, which she knew because she found herself pressing her face to the upstairs living room window to peek.

Give me a try
, he’d said. Connect, with me.

And she’d scoffed. She didn’t need to give him a try, she didn’t need to give anyone a try. And connecting?
Please
. She was only here for a very limited time, and then she was going home, where things were great and nothing was missing from her life.

Nothing.

Except someone to connect with.

Damn him for pointing that out. Damn him for being right.

“Hi honey, I’m home!” Spencer came in the door and tossed down his backpack, opening his arms in great exaggeration for a welcome hug and kiss.

She lifted a brow. “I see a bear didn’t get you.”

“Nope. Miss me?” He was smiling, but it slowly faded, to be replaced by a questioning curiosity. “What’s that look on your face?”

“I don’t know. Nothing.”

“You have a mix of…I’m not sure if it’s a glow, or a temper.”

She covered her cheeks with her hands, knowing it was the damn closet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“TJ told me about the truck and the ditch. You okay?”

“Completely fine.”

“So what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Emma, it’s me. The master of deception when it comes to feelings, remember?”

“Well then, I certainly wouldn’t want to burden you with mine.”

“Nice try.” He pulled off his sweatshirt and tossed it aside. “Look, we could do the whole dance around it thing, but I’m hungry and tired, and don’t have the patience.”

She laughed. “Honestly, it’s touching how into me you are.”

“I’ll drive all the way to South Shore and buy you that Thai if you tell me.”

She’d have done a whole hell of a lot more for Thai, so she caved like a cheap suitcase. “It’s Stone.”

“Ah. You still crushing on the big, bad boy of the mountain?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. How’s that for a straight answer?”

He tugged affectionately on a strand of her hair. “We’ve always been close.”

“No. Actually, we’ve remained such good friends because we
aren’t
too close, right?”

He lifted a shoulder in acknowledgment of that. “Fine. But one thing we have always been with each other, is honest. Brutally so.”

“True.”

“So.” He offered her a half smile. “Be honest now. You slept with him. You slept with him and instead of being done as you usually are, you want more.”

She stared at him, stunned at that quick and horrifyingly accurate assessment. “Yes.”

“Well that sucks.” He let out a breath and turned away so she couldn’t see his eyes. “I’m hungry. I don’t suppose you cooked?” He sighed again at the empty kitchen. “Yeah. Didn’t think so.”

“Spence—”

“It’s okay, Emma. I’m a big boy and I asked.” At the unexpected knock on the door, he moved toward it. “Hey, maybe it’s a miraculous Thai food delivery from heaven.”

Instead, it was Serena, wrapped in a wind breaker and a black mini skirt. “I’m looking for the doc,” she said to Spence. “Is she here?”

Emma moved into view. “Right here, Serena. Is there something wrong?”

“Well, I guess you could say it’s that I wasn’t the dweeb and didn’t waste the best years of my life in medical school like you did.”

Spencer leaned against the doorjamb, amused. “So you’re a close friend of Emma’s then.”

Serena sighed, closing her eyes. “Dammit. Was that snippy, because I was actually going for nice. I’m not very good at it.” She opened her eyes, which were just a little glazed over. “I’ll stick with my bitchy self. I need a doc, Sexy Man. So move out of my way.”

Spencer didn’t. “I’m a doctor, too.”

“Wow, God really gave with both hands when it came to you, didn’t he.” She narrowed her eyes as she took him in. “Quick, what are your faults?”

“I leave the toilet seat up and don’t bother with the cap on the toothpaste.”

“Sharp wits, too. Very nice. How are you with the bedside manner?”

He grinned. “Better than Emma.”

From behind him, Emma rolled her eyes, but Serena laughed. “And confident. Okay, I pick you.”

Spencer looked intrigued. “For…?”

She pulled her hands from beneath her coat. One was cradling the other, wrapped in a towel.

Spence immediately reached for her. “What happened?”

“A new knife and a stubborn piece of chocolate.”

Emma grabbed her keys for downstairs. “Let’s go take a look.”

“No, I pick Dr. McHottie,” Serena said.

“Sorry. I’m the doctor on call,” Emma told her lightly, trying to save Spencer. At the very least, Serena would walk all over him. At the most, she’d eat him up and spit him out.

But Spencer smiled. “I’d love to earn my keep. I’ll be happy to take this one.”

Emma swiveled to look at him. “Earn your keep?”

“Seeing as you’ve put up with me all week.” He slid an arm around Serena’s waist and guided her down the stairs as if she was an invalid.

Not that Serena seemed to mind.

Emma followed.
Earn his keep, her ass
. Inside the clinic, she flipped on the lights and prepared a tray, but when she moved to wash her hands, Spencer was already ahead of her, washed up and unwrapping Serena’s hand to examine it. “Ouch,” he murmured sympathetically.

“Yeah.” Serena held her breath as he touched. “Bad?”

“No.” He smiled into her face. “Just a couple of stitches. Probably only two.”

“Oh boy.” Serena nibbled on her lower lip. “I don’t like needles.”

Must be a Wishful thing, Emma thought, and opened her mouth to say something, like consider it Karma with a capital K, but Spencer spoke first.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” he told Serena. “I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Really?” Serena’s eyes locked on his. “Can you do that?”

“I specialize in it.” He glanced at Emma with the unspoken question, and with a shrug, she gestured him to go ahead.

The bedside manner he’d mentioned didn’t escape her notice. He was good at that, making a patient forget their pain, putting them at ease. He could read a person like no other, and know what they needed in any given moment.

In Serena’s case, a little harmless flirting had taken her mind off her pain, and Serena would never forget him. As Emma brought him the tray with everything he’d need, she thought of her last needle-phobic patient.

She’d treated Stone to a textbook T. Yep. She’d fixed up his body and he’d heal quickly and wouldn’t scar.

But she’d ignored his other needs.

As much as she hated to admit being second best at anything, her very lack of “bedside manner” is what made Spencer a better doctor than her.

She watched him continue to keep Serena at ease and wished she’d learned the art of it. Why hadn’t she?

Because she was focused.

Because she tended to be concerned first and foremost with a patient’s physical well-being.

In Stone’s case, because she’d been unnerved by him and her reaction to him.

There.

That was the bottom line, the truth.

And it shamed her. She’d always prided herself on being the best she could be, on giving the best care she could, and in doing so, she’d actually concentrated on herself more than her patients.

By now, Spencer had Serena leaned back and was making her comfortable, distracting her with an easy smile and quiet voice.

“So are you Emma’s?” Serena asked him.

“Nah,” Spence said easily. “She wouldn’t have me.”

“She always was shortsighted.”

Spence grinned.

“We’re just friends,” Emma said a little tightly. “Though sometimes I wonder why…”

Spencer kept on grinning, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Are you from New York, too?” Serena asked him.

“Yep. Dr. Spencer Jenks, but any friend of Emma’s can call me Spence.”

“Oh, we’re not friends,” Serena told him, still studying his face. “I used to torture her in first grade. But I did try to make it up with brownies the other day. Double fudge, warm, soft, out-of-this-world brownies…”

Spencer groaned appreciatively. “Now you’re just teasing me.”

Serena smiled. “I have a fresh batch…I could share.”

“I like the sound of that,” Spence assured her. He had the syringe in his hand, low at his hip where Serena couldn’t see.

Emma had always scoffed at that practice. In her opinion, assuming the patient wasn’t a kid, she believed they wanted things upfront and honest.

“What else do you make?” he asked Serena.

“Name it.”

“Really? God, I love a woman with talent in the kitchen.”

Serena smiled. “Honey, I’ve got talents in every room of the house, trust me.”

He laughed again, clearly enjoying the unmistakable hum of attraction between them. “Not fair,” he said. “I hiked all day and I’m
starving
. Tell me what you have in your front case,” he directed, “and I’ll pretend it’s right here in front of me.”

“Oh, you should see today’s pies.” Serena’s eyes were closed and she smiled dreamily. “I love pies. They’re my specialty.” Her lips curved. “Amongst other things, of course.”

“Of course. But what’s your favorite?”

“Pumpkin. My pumpkin pie is completely and totally out of this world.”

“I bet. A quick prick now,” he murmured. “That’s it, that’s all there is. Keep breathing. So do you use whipped cream on that…?”

Much later that night, Emma lay in bed staring at the ceiling trying to figure things out. Why she suddenly felt so restless. So out of place in her own skin.

So…alone.

She didn’t have to be. Stone had made that clear. What she hadn’t told him was exactly how tempted she was to go to his cabin and take him up on his offer.

He could alleviate all her restlessness, and leave her humming with pleasure while he was at it. But…

But
.

Something about his challenge to connect with him scared her, because she knew that she
could
connect with him, big time.

And then she’d leave.

It was in the cards, the plan all laid out—as soon as her dad was better, she was gone.

Even she couldn’t repair a broken heart.