15. Olivia
“Hey, Liv! I’m glad you could make it!”
I grin at Wanda, who’s already with Maria and Jasper when I find her. The three make a beeline toward me, giving me hugs before they take in what I’m wearing. A round of oohs and aahs come, and my cheeks heat up.
“Come on, guys. I just got this from a thrift shop. And it’s basic black.”
The event was announced long ago: a small charity party with the doctors, the staff, and some of the hospital’s major sponsors in attendance, held at the largest conference room. It didn’t sink into my mind that it would be a semi-formal event or that it would fall on my day off until yesterday, but the black dress that has always been in my closet is a lifesaver.
Medical assistants are not obligated to go, but the director wants us to. Nurses don’t have to, but Maria and Jasper are free and said they wouldn’t miss getting all glamoured up for the world.
Maria rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Sweetheart, if I looked like that in black, I would wear it every single day for the rest of my life. And oh, my God, are you not wearing underwear?”
I blush again as she and Wanda ogle my dress, which is backless. I was nervous about wearing this earlier, but now that I look around, I guess I’m not the only one who opted for something more daring.
“I’m wearing panties. Does that count?”
Technically, I’m wearing a thong, but Jasper’s flushed expression and averted gaze tell me he’s trying to be respectful and not to listen to us. Besides, there’s no missing the way his attention keeps drifting toward Pamela, the nurse who once called Luke to an emergency. Maria notices this, too, and groans.
“If you like her that much, why don’t you just ask her to dance?”
As expected, Jasper jerks back and vigorously shakes his head. “What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?”
Wanda, Maria, and I exchange amused looks before we proceed to tease him about it. I freeze when I spot Mark, who hasn’t seen me yet. But he looks in my direction soon enough, does a double-take, and sends anxiety down my stomach when his expression turns determined.
Uh-oh.
It’s not that he cornered or asked me out again. It’s that he’s probably trying to apologize and be friends again, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that or even for small talk. Trying to be subtle, I tug Wanda’s arm and lead her to the food section, where there are enough people between us to finally get Mark off my tail.
Maria and Jasper follow, bickering about Pamela and his refusal to admit anything. I tune them out, hiding behind Wanda without trying to be obvious.
“Is he giving you trouble?”
So much for not trying to be obvious. I meet Wanda’s gaze, about to lie to her, until I realize she’s genuinely concerned.
“Not anymore.”
“But he gave you trouble?”
“I…he asked me out several times and wouldn’t take no for an answer. But I finally got my point across and he hasn’t asked since.”
Wanda’s lips flatten into a thin line. “Well, let’s make sure you’re not in his line of sight tonight.”
“He probably just wants to apologize or something.” But her support makes me grateful. I smile. “Don’t worry about him. I’m just here to have fun with you guys.”
Wanda relaxes at that and we forget about Mark. The food is a major factor as we pile our plates then stand in a corner while we eat. I listen to them make lighthearted comments about the guests until my gaze lands on a new arrival.
And just like that, I feel my breath leaving my lungs.
I always thought Luke looked good in scrubs or his standard dress shirt and slacks, but in a suit? He’s a gorgeous specimen. It doesn’t take my three companions long to notice him, either, and Maria even whistles under her breath at the sight.
“Hot damn. I would like a piece of that.”
Jasper grumbles. “He does look good, but if he could just shed off the grumpiness for tonight and smile…”
They gasp in surprise when Luke does smile, but it’s not directed at us. Instead, he smiles and greets another new arrival—a woman I don’t recognize, but I can tell the two are well acquainted when she kisses his cheek and they share a hug. She’s beautiful, too, in her white dress and fantastic figure, and oozing so much sophistication.
“Oh, look, isn’t that Dr. Paulson? She used to sub here before she got transferred. I heard they went out a few times.”
Jealousy spikes at Maria’s words. I try to keep it in, but I can’t help staring as the perfect-looking couple catches a little more attention. A part of me wants to stake my claim, but the other part is highly aware that I have no right.
Unable to stomach watching any further—because I know I’ll keep watching if I stay here—I make a miserable excuse and duck out of view, ensuring Mark doesn’t spot me when I leave the conference room. I also avoid the area where some of the staff are working tonight, just wanting some time alone. When I find a storage room, I slip in and shut the door, then lean against a shelf filled with sheets.
I try not to think about Luke, but as always, he occupies my mind.
He stopped pursuing me. The man who was so relentless with that did as I asked. He stopped trying to kiss me, too, which was what I wanted all along…so why am I not happy?
Because you want him.
“Shut up, self.”
“Am I interrupting or is there space for one more in here?”
My skin buzzes at the sound of his deep voice. I have a second to wonder if it’s my imagination before I glance toward the door where Luke is standing.
In the flesh. Looking so good that it hurts.
At my lack of response, he cautiously slips in and closes the door with a lock clicking, shutting us out from the rest of the world. My heart picks up speed as his gaze roams over me, then settles on my face. I swallow and finally push down my speechlessness.
“Luke…what are you doing here?”
He’s silent for a while as he just looks at me. Then he clears his throat.
“I saw you earlier. Wearing that…looking like that. You took my breath away, but you were gone just as quickly.”
The way he says it…I can hear his longing. The smile from earlier is gone, replaced by a desire glimmering deep in his gaze. There’s a triumphant feeling inside me that he never looked at the gorgeous woman in white this way, but it’s immediately smothered by the knowledge that they’re still a much better pairing than we can ever be.
“Is that why you followed me?”
His gaze flicks to my mouth at my whisper, then returns to my eyes.
“Yeah.”
I know a lie when I hear one, and this one sends warning bells all over my system. At the same time, it sends a shiver down my spine until I’m consciously taking a step to the side and further away from him. Dismay creeps in my throat when he steps forward, slowly closing the distance between us.
It’s dangerous. But it’s the kind of danger that sparks a thrill within me, the fear not present at all.
“Luke…”
“Date me, Liv. Go out with me.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“Just us two. Not a playdate with Riley. I want to take you out.”
Is he asking what I think he’s asking?
Dating means intimacy and not just the physical type. Dating means getting to know each other more.
Dating means a potential relationship.
“You’re way older than me. You’re forty-five and I’m twenty-eight.” I blurt it out. “And you’re my boss. You said it yourself—there’s a power imbalance.”
“Are you reminding me of things I already know?”
“No. I’m trying to remind myself why this is a bad idea.” At my words, heat smolders in his eyes. I suck in a breath, desperately trying to find more reasons. “Besides, you can have anyone. Like that woman at the party.”
“She’s my friend. I want to date you.”
I gulp. “You already made up your mind about me and stopped?—”
“And it’s driving me out of my fucking mind.”
Oh, God. “What?”
The smolder in his eyes? It turns into an inferno as he stops inches away from me. Awareness slides in at his presence—at the heat his body emits and how intoxicating his scent is.
“Every time I tell myself I shouldn’t, you’re right there, and I turn crazier. I’m crazy with desire. I’m crazy with need. Liv…I’m crazy with fantasies of my mouth on you and making you feel good. It’s torture not being able to taste you with my tongue.”
Oh. My. God.
It’s not poetry, but it might as well be the most poetic thing I’ve ever heard in my life. A moan escapes my lips when his fingers whisper over my skin, not quite touching but close—and just like that, I can’t take it anymore as I realize I’m fighting a losing battle. I take a deep, shuddering breath and look him in the eye.
“Then do it. Use your mouth on me.”
His eyes flare in disbelief. But the disbelief quickly turns into action, as if he’s afraid I will change my mind.
My hands fly to his hair when he’s suddenly on his knees. A gasp chokes my throat when his mouth glides up my thighs and his hand parts them wider, gently coaxing me to spread myself for him. I take another deep, shuddering breath?—
And his tongue is right there, licking a path up my entrance, while he’s groaning against my core.
“Oh, my God. Luke.”
“Yes, baby. I’m right here. You taste as good as I remember.”
Does he know how crazy his words drive me, too? He doesn’t seem to care as he whispers more and punctuates them with movement: his knuckles nudging my panties off, his lips kissing every inch of bared skin, and that wicked tongue sliding right in to lap me all up. I close my eyes to steady myself from the onslaught, but his rough voice might as well be imprinted in my mind.
“So pink and tight. God, baby, I miss this so much. How warm you are. How wet you are.”
“Please,” is all I can say, at a loss for words.
He keeps it up, approving noises sliding out whenever I tremble for him. Minutes later, his fingers slip right in and join his tongue in driving me to madness, and I can only stand there and use both his hair and the shelf behind me as an anchor. When those fingers start thrusting, I need more to anchor myself and find it when his free hand lifts one of my legs up and over his shoulder.
It’s a good thing he locked the door because if anyone walked in right now, they would find me spread out and fighting back my moans with the head and fingers of the hospital’s renowned neurosurgeon busy between my legs.
“Can I take you out, Liv?”
“What?”
“On a date? Just the two of us?”
A strangled laugh ripples down my throat, but it soon dies into another bitten-back moan. His eyes gleam as he looks up.
“Luke…”
“Yes?”
How can I think when he’s finger-fucking me so well? At his deeper thrust, I gasp.
“Yes. You’re so unfair…you…oh, God.”
He only laughs, the sound echoing inside me.
I rock against his thrusts. I ride them and earn more approving noises from him. When I can’t hold back my moans any longer, I clamp a hand over my mouth and let them out just as he sucks an orgasm out of me—and when I say that, I mean he really sucks every last drop that I’m releasing until that’s embedded in my brain, too, and in my fantasies.
When I come down from my high, Luke shoots up, presses me against the shelf, and kisses the hell out of me. It’s a stupefying thing to know what I taste like from his mouth, but I’m soon distracted when I feel his hardness pressing against my stomach. I unzip him and take his cock out, basking in his delicious groans when I eagerly stroke it.
Then he abruptly stops kissing me.
“Shit, Liv.”
“What?”
“I didn’t bring condoms. I wasn’t planning to?—”
“It’s fine. We don’t need condoms.”
And because the idea has already been in my mind for longer than I care to admit, I’m on my knees in a second. I feel his shock as his hands go to my head, unsure what to do, but I ignore them and stroke him some more. Then I lick the tip of his cock and almost feel his knees buckling.
His hands rest more firmly on my head but don’t move. I swirl my tongue over his tip like an ice cream cone, rejoicing in his tight groans and ever-tightening legs, as if he’s locking himself in place. Then I don’t waste any more time and open my mouth wider to take him in—a move that rewards me with the best groan ever, one that comes from his gut and goes straight down my core.
I keep going at him, licking to my heart’s content, and pleased when he gets even harder. He’s so big, but what’s more pleasing is how responsive he is, letting me know through his sounds and body language where he’s most sensitive…and yes, through his fingers, as they tighten and loosen on my hair depending on how much he likes a particular move.
But it’s when I get to sucking that everything changes. I taste his imminent hunger and desperation. I taste just how crazed he is, begging me incoherently because he can no longer make sense of his pleasure.
Then I taste him as he explodes for me, and I only have one thought as I swallow everything that Luke spurts out.
I want him beyond this tryst.
And I don’t think I have it in me to fight this anymore.