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“Okay. You did a great thing. Are you sure you want to go back to med school?”
The question caught her by surprise.
“Why are you asking?”
“Because you’re really good at this line of work, and youarea bird name.”
A laugh bubbled up, throwing her even more off course. “Now I think you’re reaching, Lark.”
She giggled. “Just trying to show you that you really belong with us.”
Her words sank in.
Shaking her head, she said, “I think you’re wrong, Lark. I don’t belong. You guys are all in relationships. And Jennings…he’s only a fling.”
The scuff of a boot on the ground made Wren whirl. A set of dark eyes pinned her in place.
With a gulp, she lowered the phone from her ear and quickly ended the call.
He took a step closer to her. She backed up.
Hooking out a long arm, Jennings snagged her around the middle and yanked herflushagainst him. Every hard inch of his body made her own thrum. The glare he settled on her was offset by the determined way he leaned in.
“Only a fling, Wren?”
Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. Unable to find any words, she simply attempted a nod.
He kissed her hard, tongue thrusting deep in her mouth and stealing a cry from her throat. She latched on to his shoulders, yanking him down for more and more.
Too soon, he tore from the kiss. Chest heaving, he stared at her mouth as if she were a decadent—but naughty—treat.
She fought to rearrange her scrambled brain cells, to remember what they were discussing.
Oh. That was right. What they had was just a fling.
He stroked his thumb over the corner of her mouth, and her nipples peaked. “This is not a fling, Wren. This”—he tugged her even tighter against his bulging erection—“is real. Every word, every look…everyinch.”
Her mouth dried out.
“Maybe I’m…” Her tongue seemed glued to the roof of her mouth. She tried again. “Maybe I’m wrong.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “You know what youare, baby?”
She shook her head, dizzy from the dark waves of desire crashing over her.
“You.” He nipped her bottom lip.
“Are.” He ground his hips against hers and pinched her straining nipple.
“Mine.”
Chapter Fifteen
Half the club was hungover from the president’s party. The other half was still passed out on sofas and in various corners.
Jennings wrinkled his nose at the sour smell of vomit.
He had avoided drinking too much, but the guys made it difficult to turn down shots. In the end, he’d relied on his size and alcohol tolerance to make sure he got Wren safely to their bed.
