“Thank you for showing me how.” He runs his hand down my cheek, my eyes fluttering closed as the feel of his skin against mine alights across my body. “I know you’ve needed space, what with the hearing and everything going on, and I’ve tried to give it to you, even though it’s been killing me not to hold you like this, but… can I kiss you now, Nomi?”
“Yes.” Before the word fully sighs out, his lips press against my temple, trailing down my cheek, the tender line of my jaw.
“Oh, thankGod,” he murmurs into my skin. With one hand enmeshed in my hair and the other gripped around my hip, he lavishes my neck with the gentle, sultry slide of his mouth.
“Is this what you want?” I manage, more to the ceiling than to him. “Philly Gen? This loft? This life?”This life that I don’t fit into.
“I always thought so,” he says after a long pause, then places a kiss gently on my forehead. “I don’t know anymore.”
“What do you mean?” I search his face.
“I wantyou, Nomi.” He searches mine right back, his eyes the cold, wintry blue of a deceptively hot flame. “Everything about you. All of you. I want your smiles and your sighs and your arguments. I want your body lying beneath mine, across my lap, in my arms, holding me down, hugging me from behind. I want to be inside of you as much as you’re already inside of me.” His hand caresses my jaw softly, then holds it firm. “I want your first words in the morning and your last look of the evening. I want my name on your lips, and yours in my mouth. I wantyou, Nomi. So much,” he whispers as he stares into my eyes. “It doesn’t leave room for anything else.”
A small, soft breath trembles out of me, and he lifts me, cradling me easily to his chest, and walks me to his bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
JULIAN
The morning sunlight illuminates all the reds and golds hidden within Nomi’s dark, shiny hair on my pillow. I feel like an explorer must, discovering new land, as I twirl a long, shimmering strand around my finger.
I would like to explore her further.
Nomi stretches her arms over her head sleepily, which pulls up the T-shirt she borrowed, revealing her pale thighs. I am butter melting against a hot potato. I groan as my body absorbs the way the curved mound of her pussy peeks beneath my shirt and tucks this information straight into my hardening dick.
She opens one eye, sees me staring, and laughs.
“What,” I purr as I pull her by her exposed hip toward me.
“You look like the horniest man alive.”
“Iamthe horniest man alive.” I roll onto my back, bringing her on top of me, her legs parting around my thick, swelling cock. Shemmmssoftly as I run my hands up her thighs, under her shirt, trailing along her ribs, pausing there. They seem more pronounced than a few weeks ago. I frown, start to say something, but Nomi brings my hands to her breasts, andwhat was I going to say?
My thumbs find her tight, excited nipples, and drag roughly down until the buds spring up, free. “God, you’re perfect.”
Nomi flinches, and I freeze, hands still cupping the heft of her small, perfect breasts. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” Her soft laugh feels like butterflies beneath my hands, and my racing pulse slows even as her smile fades. “It’s just—I’m not perfect, Julian. Not by a long shot.” Her face is uncharacteristically pensive as she sweeps off the T-shirt and tosses it on the floor.
“Ah, but your evidence supports the opposite conclusion, Wyeth.” Jealousy floods my bloodstream at how the morning licks her body with light everywhere my mouth wants to be. My fingers wrap around her hips and guide her gently forward so I can have her for breakfast. “Allow me torebut.”
After a morning spent testing my expensive mattress’s non-bounce claims, we stop by Philly Gen to check on Mr. Gutierrez. One night with antibiotics and IV administration of his regular medications, and he’s much improved. He’ll need to be in the hospital for the next few days until the choking risks have passed, but the difference in his rigidity is already stark compared to last night. Though it physically pains me, I have to say goodbye to Nomi in the parking deck afterward. She needs to drive her car back and visit some clients today, and I’m scheduled for the afternoon shift at the clinic.
“See you tonight?” I murmur into her hair, kissing the soft lobe of her ear while giving zero fucks that various hospital staff see me doing so.
“Six p.m.,” Nomi agrees, then sighs into my arms. “Our last planning meeting before the hearing.”
“It’s going to go great,” I assure her. “Vinny and Veronica know what they’re doing.”
Nomi’s mouth twists. “I wish we could prove that Tonuto’s vendetta against Sammy is at play here.”
“Me, too. But we don’t need it to win tomorrow. We can prove the dispensary is a valid use within the Main Street business zone.”
Her brown eyes, like amber pots of dark, meadow honey, lock on to mine. “I hope you’re right.” She leans her chin up, meeting my mouth in a kiss so soft and sweet, it almost breaks my heart. I would go to war for this woman. Fight the whole town, all of New Jersey, if it meant I could give Nomi what she wants.
The hours at the clinic pass in a pleasant, steady thrum of appointments. At the end of the day, I’m responding to messages in our patient portal when an urgent test results notification pops up. I click on it immediately, my pulse picking up as the number of abnormal values screams down the PDF. Both the C-reactive protein and ESR levels are way too high, indicating significant inflammation, and the patient’s potassium and B-12 levels are very low. I frown at the results, considering the implications. Malabsorption of nutrients most often indicates gastrointestinal conditions, though it could be other serious concerns, too, like liver disease, even cystic fibrosis. My eyes flit to the top of the report, and my stomach turns to ice.
Patient: Nomi Wyeth.
