13. Olivia
Ipace the office, done with work, and find myself stuck with nothing to do. I’m sure many people would kill for that problem, but without anything to do, my mind can’t help running a mile a minute as I wait for the person I need to speak with the most.
I jump at the knock on the door, then turn to Wanda as she peeks in.
“Hey. Wanna get some of that fresh bread down the street before we head home?”
I force a smile out. “Sounds great, but I’ll have to pass. I’m staying for a bit.”
“Isn’t it past your work hours?”
“Yes, but I need to check in with Dr. Jennings about the surgery progress. It’s easier to record everything now than tomorrow.”
She shakes her head and mutters about me working too hard, then waves and leaves. I glance at the clock. I should be going home, but it’s one of those lucky days where Nancy asked to stay longer since she needs the extra cash.
But as it turns out, I don’t have to wait long as Luke walks in a few minutes later, already scrubbed down.
I already have my speech ready about not needing his help to fend off other men, but it takes a backseat when I take a good, long look at his face. He’s pale. That’s the first thing that sticks out, along with the heaviness around his eye area…like he’s almost haunted.
“Did the surgery go well?”
My tone is cautious, braced for bad news. But he nods.
“Yes. The surgery was successful.”
Yet he still has that heavy, almost haunted look about him. Puzzled, I watch as he leans against his desk. He sighs and looks at his hands, then doesn’t say another word.
Tentatively, I walk over and stand before him, waiting for him to meet my gaze. When he does, I raise a brow.
“But…?”
Luke shakes his head. “No buts. It was successful.”
Now I’m even more puzzled.
“Then why don’t you look happy about it?”
“I am happy about.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Silence. I can tell he’s thinking about something and probably trying to form it into words. I wait him out, feeling like it’s something important.
“I wasn’t prepared for it, I guess.”
Him, not prepared? It’s an odd thing to say, considering he’s always called into emergencies and handles them so well. It is why people look up to him so much.
“What do you mean?”
He sighs.
“His name’s Sean Philips. He’s six. Like Riley.” There’s a pause as he lets that sink in. “We detected something in his brain a year ago, and he’s been having constant appointments here. While that was going on, I watched him grow up. He went from not speaking at all to being a chatterbox. It’s such a nice change seeing him so bright…and I guess I got close to him over those appointments.”
I already know where this is going, but I don’t say anything and let him continue.
“I was planning to push back other operations to prepare for his. When he had his accident today, I was afraid I would fail him.”
I know it’s his perfectionist side talking. But I also know it’s taking its toll on him. My hand reaches out and touches his cheek.
“But you didn’t.”
He nods. “I didn’t. And the relief of it is just…”
“Overwhelming.”
“Yeah.”
I curl my hand inward until his head tilts just a little bit to rest on it. Luke emits a longer sigh, his weariness visible. But he doesn’t even care about that.
The guy who acts out in front of everyone, sometimes even to patients, has a good heart. I’ve seen glimpses of it throughout our interactions and the way he treats Riley, but I guess I’ve been holding back from fully seeing this side of him. He’s also just human—the type who, at the end of the day, feels for his patients and gets affected by their condition no matter how hard he tries to separate himself from them.
It’s this understanding that propels me forward until I’m no longer just cupping his cheek but hugging him, too. I can sense his surprise from his sudden tension, but it’s gone in a blink as his arms wrap around me. I know I’m the one comforting him, but the warmth he emits is a source of comfort for me, too.
“Liv…what is this?”
His voice is gruff and just a little bit confused.
“I just thought you needed a hug.”
I bury my head in his chest and feel the rapid beat of his heart. That’s comforting, too, but there’s also a certain thrill that tells me I’m toeing some kind of line. His next sigh ruffles my hair.
“I’ve never been offered one before.”
“Really?” I pause. “Not even by your lovers?”
“Let’s just say my old lovers were interested in more than hugging.”
The words should leave a bad taste in my mouth, but they don’t—not when I can feel how much he likes this hug more. So I hold him tighter until his hands tighten around me, too, and our separate warmth becomes one. At some point, I can feel his breathing picking up and his hands moving against my shirt, crumpling and letting the material go.
My breathing picks up, too. My heartbeat accelerates as warmth turns into heat and I get pulled right into it. Gravel fills Luke’s voice as he clears his throat, his fingers loosening from the hem of my shirt.
“You’re past your shift, Liv. I should…”
Let you go is what he wants to say.
But a part of me hates the idea, already feeling the loss of him leaving. It’s that part that has me grabbing hold of his shirt before he can back away and tilting my head up…then standing on tiptoe so that my mouth can meet his.
He sucks in a breath, his shock ringing between us. But it doesn’t last long as desire soon follows, his as tangible as ever as it spears from him through me. I gasp at how hungry he is as he devours my mouth, unleashing every bit of it like he’s been holding it back for so long.
Perhaps he has been. He’s been so patient, and it resonates inside me now. I kiss him back with just as much fervor, our tongues tangling.
Our hands are busy, too, mine cruising under his shirt and his just at the edge of my bra. When his fingers tremble and pause, I let out a sound of despair.
“Liv?”
It’s just one word, but I understand every emotion swirling in it: Hope. Uncertainty. Disbelief.
But his utter desire trumps everything.
“Don’t stop,” is all I say.
It’s enough. It’s all he needs for those hands to move more firmly until every surface he comes across sends fire raging in my body. I’m blind to everything except those hands and that mouth, but a part of me is aware that we’re moving—or rather, he’s moving us until a door shuts and we’re wrapped in semi-darkness.
Again, there’s a tension-filled pause as Luke allows me to take in my surroundings. I note the file cabinets, but it’s what’s behind them that takes my attention.
“I want you so bad.” His confession is rough and shoots lightning bolts inside me. “But you have to understand that I can’t hold back now if I keep touching you like this…”
In response, I kiss him harder until he gets the picture. Luke makes a deep, guttural sound in his throat before the shift happens and he’s the one actively pulling me until we’re at the back of the file room. I have a second to glance at the mattress, thick and elevated but with enough coverage from the taller file cabinets at the front.
We stand before that mattress, our mouths unable to get enough of each other. Our hands are relentless, too, unbuttoning and unzipping clothes until we’re down to our underwear. Then my back is on the bed and Luke is on top of me, hard and so muscular that I can’t help the zing of anticipation that shoots from deep within.
I expect him to discard our underwear right away so he can enter me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breaks the kiss amid my protests, then trails that mouth down my neck until I’m arching for him. Even then, he doesn’t stop, nudging my bra down until he can feast his gaze on my nipples.
“Fuck. So stiff.”
I flush with embarrassment, but that flies out of the window when he closes his lips over one and sucks with abandon. I stifle my cries as my hands wrap around his hair, tugging as I writhe against his ministrations. Then I go still when a finger presses against my underwear before he discards that, too.
The double assault of fingers and mouth drives me insane. There’s no other word for the roaring in my head and my lack of thought, overtaken by a pleasure so extreme that I can only let myself experience it. Every suck and thrust feels like a climb higher into the precipice, and calling out his name is my only anchor.
“Luke…oh, God, Luke…”
“That’s it, sweetheart. Open up for me.”
He keeps going, then stops when I’m on the brink. He tells me how wet and wonderful I am but also peppers those words with softer kisses that balances out the naughtiness until I’m riddled with emotion and feeling so damn horny. When I hear the crinkle of foil, I look down in time to see him roll a condom over his cock.
He’s so hard, the veins protruding from every delicious inch and his mushroom-shaped tip leaking pre-cum on the condom. I reach out automatically and tug on it, earning a growl from him.
“I want you in my mouth, too.” I blurt it out, which earns a strangled laugh. I keep stroking until his laugh turns into deep, throaty groans.
“I want that, too. My cock in your mouth. You sucking hard while you look at me. Fuck.” But he takes my hand away and positions his tip at my entrance. “But I can’t wait, baby. I’ve been craving this too much.”
So have I. He waits for my nod before pushing in. I gasp when he fills me. Because I’m so wet, he doesn’t take long to slide inside me and is very deep by the time I’m done begging for him to go deeper.
“Luke…”
“Hold still. I…you’re so tight. I’m going crazy, Liv.”
My hips don’t obey, already rocking against him as his admission only fuels my hunger. His don’t obey, either, instinct taking over as he rocks back and we both dance to a rhythm as old as time. Every thrust forward ups the ante until I’m swimming in pleasure, but it’s his low voice and rough words that drown me.
“You’re as tight as ever…tighter, even. You clamp around me so well, baby…and you’re so wet. So hot and wet.”
“Luke…”
“Did you know how long I’ve wanted to put my mouth down here? Every time you and I spent in the office trying to fight the attraction, I wanted to lick every inch of you until I heard your soft cries…”
“Luke…”
“And when you grow angry? Hell, you get me so hard, baby. All I want is to bend you over my desk and fuck you right there until your anger’s gone and you’re begging me for more.”
“Luke!”
I’m screaming. I’m begging. He muffles the sounds with his mouth, licking me thoroughly and sucking on my tongue.
He says more until my brain is imprinted with all the positions that he wants to take me in, including me sitting on his lap and riding him while I’m typing on my keyboard. Then my brain can’t take it anymore and short-circuits as he picks up speed, pounding into me like it’s his only mission in life.
I run my hands down his shoulders, absorbing the way his muscles flex and harden under every move. I slide them lower to his abs, marveling at the steady ripple. But when I let my fingers rest on the edge of his cock, caressing his scrotum, steady becomes erratic and his growl turns deeper.
“Fuck. Fuck, baby. I’m so close.”
I’m close, too, when he drives harder and faster, no longer holding back. I try to hold out as much as I can, but it’s his finger slipping in to find my clit that breaks my resolve. One flick and I’m undone, unraveling for him.
Then, one press and I’m shattering, the pleasure reaching a pinnacle and taking over me. I cry out at how good it is, then cry out some more when I get hit by wave after wave of pleasure.
But there’s a window of awareness I have that feels him maintaining his pounding until he stops, lets out the loudest groan yet, and finally shatters, too, his orgasm as intense as mine. Luke empties himself into the condom, but it almost feels like he’s emptying himself inside me.
And I dig my legs against his butt, wanting everything that he’s giving me. Wanting more.
Yet I’m afraid to ask for it.