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I open my mouth to say something,anything,but snap it shut again. There aren’t words to describe how I’m feeling right now, and for some reason the last thing I want to do is ruin the moment.
When Doc finally pulls out of me, our releases drip down the inside of my thighs. My pussy is so sore I’m pretty sure a strong breeze would make me wince, but I’m too blissed out to care.
Doc moves around behind me, and I rest my head against my shoulder, struggling to keep my eyes from drooping closed. I’m so tired.
He unlocks the cuffs and takes care to massage each of my wrists even though they’re not sore, and then he scoops me into his arms and carries me back into the kitchen.
He props me up on the bench as he turns the stove back on to finish cooking dinner.
“This is unsanitary,” I point out as I stare down at the bench my bare ass is sitting on as his cum continues to drip from my pussy.
“I don’t care,” he says without bothering to turn back to me.
I shake my head and allow the laughter that claws up my throat to escape. The sound is unnatural even to me, but when Doc finally turns to face me, still naked, the smile on his face is worth a thousand laughs.
For the first time since I got here, running is the last thing on my mind.
This is where I’m supposed to be. Even if it’s only for a little while.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
DOC
Taking care of Isla has become an obsession.
I cook for her, make sure she’s relaxed after a long day of studying, and most days I’ll go as far as washing her hair for her. A few months ago, I would have rolled my eyes at any man who would do something so ridiculous for their woman, and yet now I’m one of those suckers.
I shake my head, a smile tipping up the corners of my lips as I watch her bop her head to whatever music is playing in her headphones.
That’s my other obsession.
Watching her.
Every minute of every day I have eyes on her. Not that she knows that. Probably for the best if I’m honest.
She’d be freaked the hell out if she knew I was following her to school, watching her and Bella eat lunch on a bench by the library. Hell, I barely even sleep these days, choosing to watch her instead.
It’s a compulsion. And one I’m choosing not to fight.
I’ve spent so many years fighting against feeling, and I should have known the minute Isla walked into my life that it was all over.
“Are you planning on staring at me all night?” she asks without looking up from her textbook.
I smile. Okay, maybe she does know I’m watching her sometimes. “Yep.”
“You’re a creep,” she teases, her eyes finally flicking up to meet mine. There’s a lightness to her that wasn’t there before. I’m not sure when it happened, but making her smile has become my favorite pastime.
Oh god, if I’m not careful, I’m going to be as bad as the Saint James clan.
“Only when it comes to you,” I retort, and she shakes her head like it’s a ridiculous notion.
Her eyes move to her phone, and sadness moves into the amber for just a moment before they flicker back to the textbook in her lap with a soft sigh. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed her looking at her phone longingly, and if I hadn’t been basically stalking her every move for the last week, I would wonder if she’s waiting for another man to message her.
“You okay, spitfire?”
She nods but she doesn’t meet my eye.
I stand from where I’ve been pretending to work on my laptop for the last hour and move toward her, dropping down into a crouch in front of her. I pinch her chin between my thumb and forefinger before bringing her face up to meet my eye. “What’s going on?”
