Page 222 of The Doctors Will See You Now

“Do you have Nesquik?”

“Nesquik?” he asked in confusion. “What’s a Nesquik?”

“What?” I blinked three times. “You don’t know what Nesquik is?” I questioned in disbelief.

“Uh…is that bad?”

“It’s like someone admitting they don’t know what a Twinkie is.”

“I know what a fucking Twinkie is.”

Hmm… A Twinkie did sound good right about now…and safe. I can’t fall in love with a Twinkie. Well, I guess it depends on the Twinkie…

“Do you have any?”

He quirked a brow in my direction. “Twinkies?”

“No, prune juice. I’m extremely constipated,” I teased, and he laughed. “Yes, Twinkies. Do you have any?”

“How did we go from Nesquik to Twinkies?”

“First of all, we haven’t left the Nesquik,” I clarified with a serious expression. “It’s basically the powder form of Hershey’s syrup, and it’s fucking delicious. If you don’t like it, I’ll have to revoke any and all of your sex privileges. And secondly, do you have any Twinkies or Nesquik so that I can make chocolate milk, or not?”

He grinned. “You want chocolate milk and Twinkies?”

“Uh… Yeah.”

“Let me get this straight,” he started with an amused grin. “We just left an event that served the most pretentious five-course meal, along with some of the most expensive alcohol I’ve ever drunk, and your ideal way to end the evening is with chocolate milk and Twinkies? So much so that you’ll refuse to ever sleep with me again if I don’t agree with and enable your addiction. Am I hearing this correctly?”

“Yep,” I answered without hesitation, and before I could add the sarcastic comment that was on the tip of my tongue, Scott wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled my body against his. He took my mouth in a deep, intense kiss. While his tongue slipped past my lips and danced with mine, his hands skimmed up the material of my evening gown until they reached the bared skin of my back.

I moaned into his mouth, and my body all but melted into his.

This kiss was different. It wasn’t just foreplay or the physical act of kissing itself. It was deeper. It was that four-letter word I’d once convinced myself I’d never let myself feel again. And deep down, I knew that little but powerful four-letter word had made a reappearance in my thoughts for a reason—I was in love with Scott.

“God, Low.” His teeth nipped at my bottom lip. “I’m fucking crazy about you,” he whispered against my mouth before taking the kiss deeper.

With the milk and juice and whatever the fuck else he’d gotten out of the fridge forgotten, our kiss turned urgent. “I need you,” I whimpered against his lips. “I need you so bad, Scott.”

Funnily enough, despite my pleas for it, this still wasn’t about sex.

“I need you, too, Low.” He leaned back, and his gaze locked with mine. “More than just right now or tomorrow or next week or next month. I need you. Always.”

God, I felt the same way. I couldn’t picture a time in my future when I wouldn’t need Scott. Somehow, someway, he’d become a permanent fixture in my life, and I didn’t want that to change.

“Me too,” I whispered back.

We tumbled into his bedroom in a fit of limbs and lips, and the instant he kicked the door shut, every pretense dropped. The façade I showed the world melted away, and all I wanted was to feel him, everywhere and all at once.

Twilight and shadow covered the walls and floor, and Scott stood close enough that I felt enveloped by his musky scent. Without hesitation, and with only the soft inhales and exhales of our breaths peppering the otherwise silent air, he wrapped his arms around my back. In one gentle tug and turn, my covered breasts pressed deliciously against the soft material of his dress shirt.

His right hand dropped to my thigh, and he pulled up my dress enough to reach my already aching skin. I couldn’t have moved even if I tried, as if his fingers had short-circuited my mind in the best possible way as they slid up the skin of my thigh and left trembles in their wake.

“God, I’m addicted to you,” he whispered, and with two steps back, we toppled onto his bed, his eyes searching mine the entire time.

“Ditto, Doc.” I smiled and kissed him again. With my lips, I felt his mouth stretching wider than it should, fighting between grinning and kissing, and I knew mine was most likely doing the same.

We’d done this so many times—kissing, foreplay, sex—and somehow, every time, it just kept getting better.