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She’d excited the hell out of him—and had the sore inner thighs to prove it. Not to mention a few bite marks she’d had to conceal with her makeup and clothing.
Kate wiggled in her seat as her stomach fluttered and a tickle against her clit stole her breath.
She knew better than to fixate on everything Jude had done to her, every orgasm he’d given her.
He was, for all intents and purposes, still forbidden fruit to Kate.
And yet…
She tried to settle more comfortably in the car. Willed her pulse to slow a tad. Wished like hell she could block from her mind all of Jude’s naughty words…her pleading for more…their cries of pleasure.
Kate had never been one to get herself entangled in dangerous liaisons. But she’d been powerless to resist Jude one day longer.
Now, she was paying the price for her lapse in focus, her inability to just say no.
When she arrived at her apartment and deposited the portfolios on her coffee table, she wasn’t any more at ease than she’d been all morning. Not just unnerved over all the glaring implications she had to navigate, but also still brimming with desire for Jude.
Her!
The very controlled and steadfast Dr. Kate Stockman was drowning in desire.
Her nipples were tight little buds behind the lacy cups of her bra. That tickle between her legs did not abate. And her fingers itched to splay over Jude’s chest. She wanted desperately to straddle his lap and ride him slowly as her nails dipped into his solid muscles and his hands clasped her hips, guiding her in a languid yet insistent rhythm, their gazes locked.
Come on, Kate, she mentally chastised. Get a grip.
She had to let go of this new obsession. She had to wipe from her brain all the images infiltrating every nook and cranny, tempting her. Beckoning her. Almost causing her to reach for her phone and tap that speed dial number that would connect her instantly with her obsession.
Kate wouldn’t be calling Jude to try to coax him to schedule an appointment. She’d be calling him to come to her apartment. To get naked with her. To thrust deep into her and make her come so damn hard, she saw stars.
Kate groaned.
What is happening to me?
She paced the living room. She had an absurd amount of work ahead of her. So much to educate herself on, so many decisions to make.
How was it possible the only decision she wanted to make at the moment was whether or not to invite Jude over?
Perhaps the person she really ought to give a jingle to was Nikki. A brilliant therapist herself and Kate’s closest friend, Nikki would listen and counsel and help Kate set her world back on its sensible axis.
Or… Nikki would say, “Why the hell are you calling me when you could have the man naked and between your legs at this very moment, Kate?”
Urg!
She flung her hands up in the air. Mostly because it was a valid point her overactive brain was making.
Kate’s arms dropped to her sides and her fingers curled into fists. Sometimes, she’d given credence to the suspicion she could be her own worst enemy. Painful admissions to make and never easy ones to reconcile.
The current issue at hand was that Kate had always been great at her compartmentalization—now, however, she was feeling the hits from several angles. Charlotte and Mirabeth advocating for her, and proving to be quite friend-worthy in the process. Jude explaining how thoroughly he saw her…and making every attempt to accept her personal struggles. Nikki calling her an anchor.
Kate’s pacing halted. She inhaled heartily. Exhaled methodically. Calm washed over her.
Kate had dedicated herself to being a pillar of strength for anyone in need, anyone she could possibly assist. No matter what terms they were on, whether they saw eye to eye or not.
Nikki had been right. That was Kate’s gift. The one thing she did the best.
Now, Kate needed to be that pillar, that anchor, for herself. Because if she couldn’t get her shit together for her own personal benefit, she’d be useless in trying to aid anyone else.
And she’d already subconsciously consented to doing whatever she could to get Jude through this current dilemma of his.
