Page 76 of Stranger to Love

As the final button clicked into place, Dr. Carter reached up, hooking her hands around my neck, and pulled me in for a deep, hungry kiss. She groaned into the contact, a sound of absolute contentment and lingering heat. It was a clear, silent thank you, a reward that tasted infinitely better than any takeout.

The kiss lasted, deep and languid, until the sharp buzz of the hallway intercom broke the stillness.

Dr. Carter pulled back, her eyes gleaming with reluctant annoyance. "The sushi is here," she murmured, her voice husky.

She pressed her forehead against mine, taking a moment to regain her composure. The soft, unbuttoned silk of her top shifted slightly, exposing a dark, hard nipple. Catching my tracking gaze, she rolled her eyes playfully, gave me a light push back, and finished fastening her top as she stood. Tussling her hair, she flashed me a quick wink before smoothly leaving the room to retrieve our food.

I licked my lips, staring up at the ceiling. Fuck. She tasted so goddamn good, and the sounds she made... I wished I had a recording. Just thinking about it made me throb. I forced myself to sit up and took a large, desperate gulp of the white wine. The crisp, cold vintage mixing with the lingering taste of her on my tongue was overwhelming.

I heard the front door close, followed by her moving into the kitchen before returning to the lounge. She placed a massive tray of food on the coffee table—she must have ordered practically everything on the menu.

When she sat back down, she seemed perfectly composed, though a faint flush still lingered on her cheeks. She took a sip of her wine and gently ran her fingers through my hair, her green eyes soft and relaxed. I did that.

She smiled as she set her glass down. Unable to help myself, I leaned over and stole a quick kiss as she reached for the TV remote. She chuckled into the contact and raised an eyebrow at me afterward—a silent challenge that said, You're being a bit soft, darling. And, fuck, I was.

She found Scream and loaded the film as we began eating.

"Are you sure you want to watch this while we eat?" I chuckled.

"I think I’ll be able to handle it," she said, popping a sushi roll into her mouth with defiant elegance.

Those sharp, insistent tingles rushed back beneath my skin. I actually liked her. Like, I fucking really liked her. Turning my head, I concentrated entirely on filling myself with sashimi, desperately trying to pretend I wasn’t having actual, terrifying feelings. Because, fuck, I didn't do that.

Chapter 18

Alex

The film began, and the comfortable, domestic bubble reasserted itself, only now layered with the sharp afterglow of the most fucking perfect forty minutes of chaos. We were steadily eating, both of us getting pretty full on the vast spread Dr. Carter had ordered.

By the time the phone first rang in the film, signalling the start of the classic opening sequence, Dr. Carter rolled her eyes.

"Honestly," she scoffed, popping a piece of salmon nigiri into her mouth. "The woman has practically no survival skills. Who answers an unknown number while they're alone in a house that large?”

I smirked, secretly enjoying that she was actually watching my favourite film. Fuck, stop with the feelings, Alex.

But as the intensity upped and the first serious jump scare hit the screen, I noticed Dr. Carter subtly stiffen beside me. Her relaxed posture shifted, becoming tense, and I fucking swore I could hear her heart rate increasing even over the film score. She tried to hide it, keeping her focus glued to the screen, but every quick camera movement or sudden sound made her flinch. She was obviously scared.

I couldn’t fucking believe it. This was the woman who, without a second thought, had taken down a guy twice her size just because he was threatening and about to hurt me. This was the woman who terrified everyone around her, whose control was absolute, whose presence demanded obedience. Yet here she was, clearly rattled watching a horror film from the nineties. The sheer contradiction was fascinating, and honestly, unbelievably endearing. Fuck, stop liking her.

I leaned in a little closer, fucking unable to resist the opportunity to gently tease her. I kept my voice low so she could hear it over the film's tense dialogue.

"You okay there, Dr. Carter?" I asked, my lips brushing the curve of her ear. "You look a little... tense. Is it the lack of survival skills upsetting you, or is Ghostface proving too much for the formidable Dr. Carter?"

She immediately glared at me, the expression a fleeting flash of her usual command, but it was undermined by the wide, slightly panicked look in her eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous, Alex," she hissed, her voice barely a whisper. "I simply find the sound mixing unnecessarily jarring, and the stupid woman's poor decision-making irritating."

Despite her denial, her hand found my thigh beneath the blanket, her grip tightening almost painfully as the villain appeared in the reflection of the TV screen. It was a purely instinctual reaction, a desperate anchor. Fuck, was she cute? Was 'cute' really a word I would use for this supervillain?

I reached down and placed my own hand over hers, squeezing gently, offering solid comfort rather than mockery. "It's okay," I murmured softly, my tone completely serious then. "He's just an actor in a cheap mask.”

She took a shaky breath, turning her head just enough to look at me. The fear was still visible, but the anger had faded, replaced by a genuine, relieved vulnerability. "You know, Alex," she said, her voice regaining a little of its steely edge, “If you keep mocking me, I’ll just assume you're being a brat and have to do something about it.”

I just grinned, tightening my fingers around hers. “You do what you need to do to get through this.”

She glared at me again, but when Ghostface jumped out and began tackling the woman on screen, she actually jumped. Fuck, she was cute. I leaned over and grabbed her wine glass; she snatched it from me and took a large gulp that I tried not to laugh at. I drank some of my own before refilling the glasses, never letting go of her hand as I moved.

I sank back into the sofa, pulling the blanket up over us. As I let go of her hand, her eyes flicked downward—a subtle, fleeting panic at losing her anchor that made my heart lurch.