Page 25 of The Doctor

Zeno

She was a hot mess, and I was royally fucked. What was it about this girl that had my dick constantly straining in my pants, my hands invariably reaching out to touch her smooth, perfect skin? She looked so broken, so innocent, so goddamned tempting in the tiny jean shorts and white tank top that showed off more of her body than my desperate mind could take.

The entire drive out to Paulo’s, I’d wanted to drag her out of her seat and into my lap. I’d wanted to slide my dick into her pretty pink folds and sink into her until there was nothing left of either of us. I wanted to touch her, taste her, do far, far more than just hold her fucking hand.

But I wanted to do that, too.

I wanted to soothe away the strained look in her eyes when I told her to sit in the driver’s seat, to take the wheel, to put the car in gear and press her foot on the gas.

I wanted to soothe away the tension that had built in my shoulders the minute she’d wrapped her arms around me in the kitchen this morning.

As the day progressed, her fears seemed to lessen, but the strain of holding myself back only grew. I was so damn proud of her, of how she handled herself, how she handled the car. Other than the one time she backed into a lilac bush planted at the side of the long, winding driveway, she hadn’t made a mistake. Her confidence grew to the point that I felt comfortable telling her, “Why don’t you drive home?”

“What? No!” She whipped her gaze away from the road, nearly crashing into one of Paulo’s cars that I’d had Maso park around the property for her to practice driving around. Had I not caught the wheel and dragged it toward the right, I would have had some explaining to do.

She slammed on the brakes and my voice came out strained as my seatbelt bit into my chest. “Clara, you’re going to be fine.”

“No, I’m not Zeno. Did you just see that? I almost crushed a two hundred-thousand-dollar Maybach! I’m not going to be fine!”

She buried her face in her hands, and once again, I felt like an utter fool. Once again, I’d stepped over a line I didn’t know existed and I’d set her off.

Easing the car into park, I debated over leaning back and letting her have her moment, or leaning toward her to offer her a source of comfort I’d long believed she didn’t get anywhere else.

Of course, I leaned toward her. I couldn’t say no to this girl.

“Clara—” I hadn’t even gotten an arm around her shoulder before she lunged toward me, climbing half out of her seat until she was hanging from my neck.

“Don’t make me, Zee,” she whimpered with her face pressed into my throat. “I can’t do it.”

I bit back a groan as her lips scraped against my skin. “You can, kid. You know you can. Clara Vinci doesn’t know how to back down.”

Something like a sob tore from her throat. “How can you say that?”

“Because it’s true.” I held her head against me, my throat tightening where her face touched it. “Because I’ve never met anyone as strong and resilient and beautiful as you.”

It wasn’t until she stiffened in my arms that I realized what I’d said. She lifted her head, and I wanted to look away. But I couldn’t tear my eyes from the tears clinging to her lashes.

“You think I’m beautiful?” It came out on a whisper, and the quiet sound had my throat tightening to the point of pain.

Lifting a hand, I wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Zee…” Rather than saying more, Clara leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine. Even though everything inside me screamed to stop, to pull away, to push her out of the car and call her fucking parents to come take care of their own damn kid, I couldn’t.

I couldn’t hurt her that way.

I knew I was the only adult in her life that showed her the love she was so desperate for.

And fuck, I was so desperate for her.

As pathetic as that was, I couldn’t pull away. Not as she smoothed her hands down my chest. Not as she opened her mouth and her tongue tentatively touched mine.

Not as I gripped her head and kissed her the way I’d been dreaming of for far too many years, a violent possession that screamed that she was mine.

All mine.

Fucking hell.

“Clara.” I wrenched her face away from mine, gasping for breath and yet unable to move as her fingers cupped my erection through my pants. I wanted to bite my tongue, but the last bit of sense in my entire body forced one word out through my raw throat: “Stop.”