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“I assumed he must be a close friend. He was very protective of you.” She’s being too nice.
“He was an ass that night, Doc. You can say it.” I tilt my head, giving her an expectant look, and she laughs.
“Well, he doesn’t seem to be like that any other time I see him. You must’ve had him stressed out.” She shrugs, smirking.
“No, he’s just dramatic.”
Huffing a small laugh, she shakes her head.
“Okay, look down a little so I can see the stitches.” As she stands before me, my hands immediately go to her waist. I pull her closer, so she is firmly standing in between my legs as I caress her sides.
“Go for it,” I say, tilting my head down, again getting a great view of her fucking amazing tits under her shirt. They are in what looks like a black lace bra and my fingers twitch at wanting to unwrap her. It would be like the Christmas I never had.
“How often do you train like that? In the ring?” she asks as she gets busy with removing my stitches.
“Most days. It keeps me agile, light on my feet, and gives me great spatial awareness.” As I look at her, I get the feeling she isn’t comfortable with my answer. It’s too soon to think I can read her like I book, but I know I’m right before I even ask.
“What are you thinking?”
“I am a doctor, and I know it is a sport, boxing, wrestling, fighting, but I help, not harm… so seeing it in the flesh just now, and seeing people wanting to hurt you is not my idea of a good time.” I smile at the thought that she cares. That is something that has never happened with anyone before.
“What are you smiling at?” she asks warily.
“You worried about me, Cat?” I ask her teasingly as I lean in again, quickly tasting her lips once more.
“Maybe.” I like that she is coy, bashful even. She shows so much strength, yet lets her vulnerabilities shine for me on occasion. She is totally different from any woman I have ever been with.
“You don’t need to worry about me. I can handle it. Is there anything else that worries you about me?” She knows I work with the mob, so that has to be playing on her mind, and I’ve been curious to know how she feels about it. She remains quiet as she bites the inside of her cheek, her eyes flicking to mine briefly before she looks back at my wound.
“Because I kind of like having my hands on your body and seeing you on the regular, so might as well get everything out on the table now,” I state, watching her for her reaction.
Her eyebrows rise, a little shocked that I am so forward, and I am too. But I don’t think I can let her go now. A taste wasn’t enough to satiate my craving for her, my desire to be around her. The feeling of her under my hands is incomparable.
She finishes off removing the stitches and steps away from me slightly, but my grip on her remains. Her body language is not as sure as it was, and I see her take a breath before looking at me.
“We are total opposites, Carter. Besides, my life is a mess. I can’t offer you anything. Why would a man like you even think about someone like me?” My head rears back as I take in her words.
“Someone like you? What does that mean?” There was an underlying insecurity in her statement that’s completely throwing me off.
She steps back to me, bringing a wipe to my forehead, cleaning my wound with an ever-gentle touch.
“It doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything.”
“Oh no, you are not getting out of it that easy. Tell me. Tell me who you think you are?” I ask her again. I’m not willing to let her leave here without knowing what she’s talking about. How could she ever think she’s the reason we can’t be together? I’m the problem here.
“You know, a tired single mom, with a crazy ex-boyfriend. I have a father who lost any sense of morality when my mom died and is the devil incarnate. Not to mention, I work too hard, I am the worst soccer mom ever, and the tap in my kitchen has been leaking for weeks because I have no idea how to fix it. Why the hell would anyone want to be with me? I am a mess. I am too old for you, Carter. You deserve someone young, vibrant, and beautiful. Not someone like me.” The words rush out of her so quickly it is hard to grasp them, hard to interject and argue her points. She’s talking down about herself with nonsense, as if they are facts. I’m so taken aback; it takes me a moment to digest it all.
She looks back at me with her eyebrows high like she is saying I told you so.
“Nope. You got that all wrong,” I say, my tone serious. My hands still on her body pull her closer to me, until she’s flush with my chest.
“That’s not what I see.” I grill her with my eyes, my stare keeping her quiet.
“I see a strong woman, a tiger mom who would do anything for her cub.” When I see her about to scoff, I continue.
“I see a hard-working doctor who has worked for years to be taken seriously and climb the medical ladder.” Bringing my hand to cup her face, her eyes don’t leave mine.
“I see a woman, who despite it all, continues to show up for everyone around her. I also see a sexy woman, one who hasn’t had the right man in her life to show her exactly how she’s supposed to be treated.”
