“Yes.”
His eyes flare. “I’m still jealous.”
“I noticed.”
His gaze drops to my mouth. “Tell me to stop.”
I should. We’re at work, I have a patient in thirty minutes, we still have a mountain of things between us that a kiss isn’t going to fix, and I know what he’s hiding now.
But just as soon as I think about what he’s hiding from me, I soften to him.
I put my hand on his chest. “This doesn’t fix everything.”
His expression changes, and some of the heat in his eyes turns into pain. “I know.”
I nod. “You can’t kiss me like this every time you don’t know what to say.”
He agrees with me. “I know that too.”
I tilt my head. “Do you?”
He nods.
I search his face, trying to figure out if this is another way for him to avoid talking or if he really is just as desperate as I feel. Maybe it’s both.
He lowers his forehead to mine. “I miss you.”
My body heats. “I’m right here.”
“No.” His voice cracks a little on the word. “Not the way you were before.”
That hurts, but I know it’s true. I’m not sure I’ll be back to the way I was until he comes clean with everything. “You changed that,” I whisper.
His eyes close. “I know.”
For a moment, neither of us moves. Then his hand slides under the hem of my scrub top, his palm warm against my skin.
“Tell me to stop,” he says again.
But I don’t. Instead, I lift my hand to the back of his neck and pull his mouth back to mine.
He groans, and the sound goes straight through me.
This kiss is even hotter than the first one. His hands move under my scrub top, sliding up my back, then down again like he can’t get enough of touching me.
I know that sex isn’t the answer and we have so much to talk about, but I need this more than I thought I did. I need to feel wanted by my husband.
Penn lifts me onto the edge of his desk, and I gasp against his mouth.
He steps between my knees and slides a hand under the waistband of my scrubs and underwear. I open to him, and he palms my sex. He slides one finger through my slick folds and leans his forehead against mine. “Tell me this is for me. Tell me I’m the reason you’re soaking wet.”
I put a hand to his cheek. “Since the day we met, all you gotta do is look at me and I’m a mess.”
He takes a shuddering breath.
“You’re mine,” he says, the words rough against my lips.
My whole body reacts. I pull back just enough to look at him. “Then act like I’m your wife.”
