The Doctor’s Simple Life (Love Heals All Wounds #3)

17. Reece

CHAPTER 17

REECE

A fter that, we don’t do a whole lot more swimming. Instead, we find out that making out when you’re trying to tread water is a lot harder than it looks. We stumble our way back towards the shore, where we sit in the shallows and let our lips get familiar.

I let my hands trail over her body, figuring out all her curves and corners, and she does the same to me, brushing over my freckles and impurities. Usually, I try to hide them, but with Sienna, they don’t seem to matter.

All I can think about are her lips on mine, her legs wrapped around my waist.

It’s kind of embarrassing, but she must feel me getting hard under her. I can’t help it. Her body is so warm and so close, and I want her so much it’s making me dizzy.

Eventually, she pulls back and suggests that it’s time to go home.

I never want to leave this spot, this moment, but reluctantly, I agree.

We wade out of the lake and pull our still-damp clothes back on. My shirt is drier from being in the sun, and I offer it to her because hers is still soaking. She rejects it, swallowing her discomfort.

It doesn’t make me a good person, but I can’t pretend I’m not happy to see the way the damp fabric clings to her skin.

As we start heading back down the trail, suddenly, the idea of walking five miles hits me again. I don’t think I’ll ever be a person who enjoys walking when a competition isn’t involved. But at least I can barely feel my feet and the forty thousand blisters on them.

I’m walking on clouds now. I’m in heaven.

It hadn’t been outside the realm of possibility that I would sleep with someone here, but the way Sienna makes me feel… this is more than just a casual fling.

I’ve had girlfriends before, plenty of them. I’ve showered them with all of the presents and affection they’re supposed to have, but in the end, the relationships all fizzled out to nothing because they weren’t really anything to begin with. Not like this anyway. None of them ever lit a match under my heart and stole it right from inside my chest.

Maybe it’s the madness of being in Silverbell, but this kiss with Sienna — it’s changed something inside me.

We say nothing for the first half of the walk, letting the blissful sounds of nature and the forest surge around us, but eventually I get curious. “What was it like growing up here?” I ask. “Were you happy?”

She nods slowly. “Yeah, I was. My gramma raised me after my parents passed away when I was little.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and for a change, I mean it. I understand what the ache of missing parents can be like, and even then, mine are still alive.

She shakes her head, dismissing my pity. “But I couldn’t ask for anything more than Gramma’s ever given me. As you already know, she’s the best. I am so lucky that, in my whole life, I’ve wanted for nothing. I have friends here, family, friends who have become my family. I have a brilliant job, and I feel like I matter. I don’t think I could ask for anything more than that.”

“No,” I say quietly. “No, I don’t suppose you can.”

“So, yes. I had a good childhood. I enjoyed it here.”

“That sounds nice,” I say lamely, because I don’t really know what else there is to say.

Her life has been nothing like mine, and though I have all the wealth and success of being a surgeon, when I put our lives side by side, mine seems so much more hollow than hers. It’s so much emptier, shallow and vapid.

Sienna has a community, a life she loves, and people she can rely on. I’ve never had that. As much as I’ve wanted it, I’ve never had it.

All I have is money and the kind of work friends you have to try and impress; otherwise they drop you without a second of remorse.

We get into the car without a word, but when I hold out my hand, she takes it. The whole way home, our fingers twine together, only parting when she needs to take a turn.

It leaves my palm empty and cold every time.

When we roll up outside my house, Sienna gives me a small, sad smile. In that moment, it all makes sense to me. She doesn’t think she’s good enough for me.

She thinks there’s no way that I could like someone like her, someone who is stunningly beautiful and with such strong force of will, someone who’s making me better than I’ve ever been before. I don’t know how she can think like this.

Not a word of it is true.

“Come inside,” I say. “For a drink or something to eat.”

“I can’t drink,” she says. “I’m driving.”

“Then stay the night.” It’s more desperate than I wanted it to be, but I am desperate. If she doesn’t come home with me now, I’ll be awake all night thinking about her. “Or I’ll walk you back to your grandmother’s. Whatever. Just stay for a bit. Okay?”

She hesitates again, then softens and says, “Okay.”

With that, she turns the key and the engine shudders and falls silent.

We get out into the warm evening air, and I look at her again, really look. She’s tied her hair up now, a loose ponytail that breaks free in waves around her face, framing her soft cheeks, her pretty eyes. Her shirt is still kind of damp, but I can’t see her bra through it anymore — probably a relief for her. It’s probably not what she wants me looking at.

I step forward to unlock the front door, then hold it open for her. She dips her head and steps into my house, and a thrill of anticipation runs down my spine. This is really happening.

She wanders on into my kitchen, looking around like she’s trying to get any hints about the kind of person I am. It’s less sparse than she would have seen if she had come in that first day we’d met, though it still looks pretty bachelor.

I shouldn’t be so concerned by what she thinks, but I can’t help it. Everything I do now is under her scrutiny.

“What’s your poison?” I ask as I head over to the cupboard where I keep my liquor.

“What do you have?”

“Probably more than I should.” I decide at that moment that it’s probably not a good idea to let her look in here and in the fridge. It paints a really, really sad picture. “Cocktail?”

“You’re not going to make me a cocktail,” she scoffs.

“Why not?”

“All right. Surprise me, then.”

It’s not a challenge I should have accepted. I’m usually the one ordering a cocktail, not making them. But I’ve seen it done a hundred times. How hard can it be?

I study my cupboard for a second and pull out some tequila, then orange juice and a single lime from the fridge, hoping that inspiration will strike. Slowly, I pull a glass out and place it on the countertop. This will be fine. I’ve got it.

But as I fumble about with the glass and the liquid, Sienna starts to giggle. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“Yes, I do,” I snap, which is about as good a confession as she needs.

She grins at me, then pushes me aside to take the bottle. Our hands brush against each other, and an electric shock jolts through my arm. She turns her head to look at me, and our eyes meet. And that’s the moment when I know that whatever this feeling for her is, it’s not a one-off.

It’s something I want to pursue.

It’s something I need. I need to make her mine.

Our eyes linger, and I start to get lost in those green gems, like they’re hypnotizing me and I can’t do anything else but lean in and kiss her. Her lips are soft and warm against mine, just like they were in the lake, but this is more. There’s a heat burning underneath this kiss, a desire that’s more than just my own.

All of a sudden, our hands are on each other, pulling us in closer, and the kiss gets deeper, more intense, so hot that I feel like I’m burning in my shirt. It’s still damp too, and it sticks against my skin. Right now, I can’t tell if it’s damp from the pond or damp from the sweat.

I start pulling at the hem of her shirt, wanting to touch her, to feel her, and Sienna’s hands come to mine.

“Is this a good idea?” she whispers.

“It’s definitely not a bad one,” I growl. “You have no idea how badly I want to taste you right now.”

She chuckles nervously and a flash of doubt rushes through me. Surely she’s not so innocent that this is outrageously flirty, is it? Her lips are so delicious, but her uncertainty shakes me, so I pull back for a second, waiting to see what she really wants.

I don’t have to wait long because a heartbeat later, she reels me back in and our lips crash together once more. She tastes like lake water and lavender, and I’m getting dizzy just from being so close to her. The whole world has shrunk down to this pinpoint, and I wouldn’t care if everything else vanished around us.

All I need, at this very moment, is this.

I let my hands move away from her body for a second so I can take off my shirt. She runs her fingers over my chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin. At least she likes what she sees.

Then I have to touch her again because my hands on her is the only thing tethering me to the ground. I lean in to kiss her neck. “Let’s take this upstairs,” I rumble in her ear.

She nods, and I all but carry her as we stumble up the stairs towards my bed. She must be able to feel that hardness pressing into her leg as we go, and I wonder how wet she is underneath her pants. Is she dripping for me?

The thought makes me even harder.

I take her into my bedroom, and with a surge of confidence, Sienna takes her own shirt off and drags me over to the bed. I moan in satisfaction as her hands are on me. “God, I need you so bad.”

“Not as much as I need you,” she whispers, her voice thick and wanting. She pushes me down onto my back and makes quick work of my shorts, freeing my throbbing cock. For a second she scrutinizes me, then before I can doubt my prowess, she looks down and says, “May I?”

“You definitely may.”

Then she wraps her lips around me, and it’s a fight not to let my eyes flicker shut. I want to keep this image of her forever. But as she weaves magic with her tongue, I can’t help it. My head drops back onto the pillow and I moan without shame, the tension inside me coiling and building and waiting for the perfect moment to release like a spring.

When it does, I cry out, my vision blurring in bliss. Sienna sits up on her heels, and I clumsily push myself up to meet her in a kiss, tasting myself on her lips.

I don’t hesitate to let my own hands reach down to her shorts, undoing the button so I can slide my fingers into her underwear. She’s wetter than I could have imagined, and I slip a finger inside her. It’s an awkward angle, but her eyes widen and roll back in her head, so I must be doing something right.

It takes a second, but I figure out how to move in the perfect way and wrap my other arm around her waist, pushing her shirt up so I can feel her bare skin hot against my palm.

She stops grinding against my hand for a second so she can tear her shirt and bra off, and while the moment is interrupted, I take the time to help her out of her shorts, leaving her utterly naked in my bed. She comes back to straddle my knees, and I find her wetness with my fingers again.

This time I don’t stop until she shakes around me and comes with a scream.

It’s the perfect sound.

I want to make her do that again and again.

“Let me fuck you,” I murmur, my cock hard and wanting again. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Please,” she whispers, nibbling at my ear lobe. “I want that so bad.”

It pains me to be apart from her for even a second, but I crawl across the bed to the nightstand to retrieve a condom. I hadn’t been expecting to use any of them, but a gentleman is always prepared.

I roll one on and turn back to her with a grin. She launches herself at me, kissing me and pushing me down, then straddles me and sinks down, making us both moan. Our hips meet and our fingers twine, and the whole world slips away, leaving only Sienna and me and this pleasure that we’re discovering together.