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The screen door to the backyard slams shut. It’s just Gibson and myself.
“Is there more going on with you two besides a little jealousy of asking out the same girl?” With my question, he’s quiet, and a ringtone is the only thing between us.
“Ah, crap, Charis.” His eyes swing from me to his phone. There’s a tug of war almost in his eyes.
“Shit, I don’t want to, but I’ve got to grab this. I’m so sorry. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. How’s that?”
He doesn’t wait for my answer and without looking up, his shoes scrape against the floor and he’s up the stairs before I know it.
I try to watch him, in my blurriness, as he turns from the kitchen, rounding the corner leading to his apartment. Even with my eyes a little hazy, I don’t miss how his ass can fill out a pair of jeans. But, hell, Stone’s does, too. There’s a swing of the door—the hinge doesn’t work properly, and it slams shut. It’s the only thing that brings my attention from the fine ass of both men to the here and now. “Ah, love, did you run off your other suitor?” With anyone else, I’d get that hint of jealousy but not with Stone. There’s an amusement laced with his tone.
I’m still planted in the seat, but as he’s amused, I’m not. I’m too old to play games. “He had a phone call to take.” I pause for a second before I call him out. “Do you find this funny? Because I won’t play games, not at the place where I’m at in my life.”
His touch is back on me, on my arm. “Let’s get you home, sweetheart. And I promise to address what you’ve just said, in private. Fair enough?” He reaches for my arm, and I support myself on his shoulder.
With a bob of my head, we’re out of the house. He pulls back the door to his Porsche for me, but something near the home gets my attention. With the curtains pulled back, I can’t miss the shadow of Gibson in the window, staring at me. But when Stone moves around the car, it’s not hard to trace how Gibson doesn’t take his eyes off of Stone, either.
* * *
We’rein my living room, Stone’s doctor bag next to me. With a light shining near my eye, I know the protocol, following it to determine my level of concussion.
“Well, good news. I think you’re okay. You may have a little bruise tomorrow, and most likely will be sore to the touch, but I’m confident you don’t have a concussion.”
I lean back on the couch while he sits in front of me, using my ottoman as his examining chair.
“All of this is good to know. And now with your diagnosis, mind telling me what the hell is between you and Gibson? I sensed jealousy on his part, that I was with you.”
His stare stays on me, and my assumption has not made him nervous. “So, love, is there a question or are you just stating what you think you saw?” Now, his pitch on anyone else would sound like an asshole sort of statement. He’s even keel, and his gaze on me is steady, and almost joy in his lips that curve upward.
Do I want to know? Am I ready to find out what sort of drama these two share, when the drama in my own life is a little overbearing?
I don’t know what I truly am asking or wanting from this conversation, so I go with vagueness, leaving it in his court.
“If there’s something you think I need to know, go ahead and tell me. But, if you’re okay with me dating you and him, then let’s just leave it alone.”
He doesn’t reply, but with the tip of his finger, he pulls my chin toward his body. “Can I kiss you, my sweet Charis?”
Sweet Charis, in his Irish accent. Holy moly, my ovaries and every other part of my body are ready for anything he has to offer.
I don’t answer because it’s me who crashes my mouth to his. All thoughts of Gibson are gone. Okay, that’s a lie. I wonder what Stone would do, watching me and Gibson together. My thoughts, he’d get off on it, and it’s why with every touch of Stone’s hands on my skin, my wetness grows. Yeah, I’m horny. It’s been a while. Fuck, can I even remember the last time I’ve had sex? I’m probably a bit rusty, but sex is like riding a bike. It all comes back naturally, right?
I’m not the one to pull away, it’s the kinky doctor, or at least I believe he’s the kinky one. “I can’t let this go much further. It’s not fair, not at this juncture.” These are Stone’s words, and I’m shocked.
Hmm, I’d not taken Stone O’Leary as the gentleman type to do what’s right and proper, in this situation.
“And just so you know, love, this isn’t easy because letting you ride me will fill my dreams tonight.”
It’s good to know that he’s just proved me right. This doctor is both kinky and sort of proper.
He pushes to his feet, lowering his luscious lips, all red and bruised from my assault. “Good night, my love. I’ll call you tomorrow because I’m not waiting long before I take you out again.” He walks to the door and stops, as if he’s warring with himself to charge me and ravish me, like I really thought would happen just minutes ago.
He moves his head around just enough to set his eyes on me. “And, if you need to imagine yourself riding me, to give yourself some relief, I’m okay with that, and just know I’ll be doing the same thing.”
Holy shit, this man. He’s left me hot and bothered and so fucking turned on. Yeah, that image might just do the trick.
