AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She turned around to find him standing in the doorway with all her bags and the flowers wrapped in one giant bouquet. Stuff she would have struggled with, he carried with ease.
“No one,” she said. “Need help?”
“You can take these.” He handed her the flowers. “I’ll arrange everything else in here.”
“This room?”
“Yes. It’s ours.”
“You don’t have a guest room?”
“I do, but I don’t have a guest.” He lowered the suitcase handle, locked it in place, and then picked it up with one hand. “But if you want me to put them in a guest room, I will.”
It was a suitcase handle.
There she was, getting hot over how he gripped a suitcase handle. Over taut forearms and veins, large hands and long fingers.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then. I’ll get these situated in here. There are vases in the kitchen cabinet next to the sink, on the bottom.”
She nodded and disappeared down a hallway.
Theycould notlive here.
At his place, he had too much power. It would be too easy to feed his ego. Here, she would willingly let him lock her in a room, her arms and legs tied to the bed posts, for the sole purpose of providing him pleasure in any form, whenever he wanted it.
She arranged the flowers in a vase, surprised they’d managed to live this long. Just as she was finishing up, Lucas joined her in the front room, the scrubs exchanged for a Georgetown University School of Medicine T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
Gray sweatpants.
The man was playing dirty.
“It” peeked with every step he took, the thick gray outline teasing her and a single word running through her mind, like a ticking clock:
Dick-dick, Dick-dick, Dick-dick
All she had to fight gray sweatpants and a dick print was a sports bra that matched her leggings, but the swoosh sitting right in the middle of her breasts helped matters.
“You didn’t go to Hopkins for medical school?” she asked.
He looked down at her, his eyes at least three shades darker. “No.”
“How did you end up teaching—”
“When you model clothes like these,” he dragged his gaze the entire length of her body, “are they directly from the company, or are they altered to fit you?”
“These are directly from the company. They just happen to fit me well. Probably because of the stretch.” She turned around. “Why? Do they look bad?”
“You know they don’t.”
“I have to ask, Mr. Dick Print. We’re both adults here. I know what you’re doing.”
He spun her around, picked her up, and set her on the island countertop. Then he dipped his head and dropped his voice so low she wondered whether he genuinely wanted her to hear him.
