Crybaby Page 3

“Rowe is in the cave,” Johnna calls out when she peeks in my office. “Good luck.” She shudders, and it irritates me. Sure, Soph is a bear, but for months and months we’ve let her down. I let her down. I ignored taking over as her therapist because I thought the others could handle her. I’d assumed she was a drama queen and didn’t have the time or patience to deal with her. But Soph is in pain. A lot of it. I’m eager for the doctors to run more tests because I feel like there’s more than meets the eye with her.

  “I’ll be right there,” I grunt as I stand. “Get some heat on her.”

  Johnna nods and scurries off. I take a moment to collect myself. I’d behaved unprofessionally when I got hard. Fuck, I couldn’t stop looking at her chest. Being in the pool with her was a terrible idea. In fact, I’m not doing that shit again.

  As soon as Johnna leaves the cave, her face red, I stalk over to the room. I push inside and find Sophia already out of her jeans with a heat compress on her hip. When our eyes meet, her cheeks turn pink. I try not to stare at her curvy olive-colored legs but fail miserably. She has the cutest little feet and I find myself fixated on them.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask huskily.

  She smiles at me and my chest tightens. What a gorgeous fucking girl. Her hair is a dark chocolate color and falls past her shoulders. The green in her eyes is the color of grass on a motherfucking spring day. And her mouth is pouty as hell. Lips so plump, any man with a working dick would fantasize having them wrapped around his cock. My own cock lurches in response.

  “Actually,” she says, her smile broadening. “I feel better than I have in a long time. The swimming helped.” She sounds shocked.

  “Good, come over tonight too. Don’t make me come get you.” So much for no more swimming.

  “Bossy,” she teases.

  I stare at her for a beat longer than I should before throwing myself into my work. I grab a canister of cream and sit on the edge of the table with my thigh pressed against her naked one. Her breath hitches when I peel away the hot compresses that have brightened her flesh to a cherry color. The panties she’s wearing today are skimpy and pink. Innocent as fuck. My cock is aching in my slacks, but I ignore it as I set to rubbing her joint and muscles. As soon as my cream covered fingertips touch her hip bone, she lets out a hiss. And it’s not a painful hiss either. Slowly, but with firm touches, I massage her.

  I lose myself in the way her skin comes alive at my touch. Goosebumps prickle her flesh and the skin grows steadily redder. It isn’t until she groans that I realize I’ve pushed my thumb beneath the edge of her panties to knead the muscle there. I freeze and slowly pull my hand from inside her panties.

  I briefly imagine what it would feel like to peel those panties off her and use my thumb on another part of her body. A part that would make her scream in pleasure, not pain. Guilt surges through me over thinking dirty thoughts about my patient.

  Focusing back on my task, I slip my palm behind her knee and begin pushing upwards. Her eyes close in pain. My eyes do the unthinkable. I drag them right between her legs. Her pink panties are wet. The spot is a dead giveaway of her arousal. A million thoughts flit through my head.

  Is she a virgin?

  Has she let anyone inside her?

  Does she put her fingers inside herself?

  Gritting my teeth, I try to ignore all those stupid questions. I’m a fucking moron though because I can’t look away.

  “You’re hurting me,” she whines, her blazing green eyes on mine.

  It takes me a moment to realize I never brought her thigh back down. Everything in me aches to touch her. I want to steal her panties and lick away her arousal to see what it tastes like.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “Everything okay?” she murmurs, her eyes soft again.

  My thumb begins running a circle on the inside of her thigh. “I’m fine. Just have a lot on my mind.”

  Her face puckers with a guilty look. “I know you have other patients—”

  “You,” I growl. “I only have you.”

  Both of us widen our eyes at my words. Lust surges through me and something feral begins clawing at me from the inside out. Touching her is a tease. I want more of her.

  Fuck.

  “Relax.” My voice is low and commanding.

  She bites on her plump bottom lip and nods. I ease her leg back down to the table and begin massaging her thigh.

  “That hurt?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Crybaby.” I wink at her to let her know I’m teasing.

  “Ass,” she bites back, desire flickering in her gorgeous green eyes.

  Sophia Rowe is young. So fucking young. But every male instinct within me begs to claim her. I want to touch her in places I shouldn’t. I want to kiss and fuck her, goddammit.

  “You look mad,” she breathes. Her body goes rigid once more. The muscle in her thigh tightens.

  I give a slap to her thigh. “Relax.”

  She lifts her arms to run her fingers through her hair. It pulls up her shirt and reveals her soft tummy. I’ve been with lots of women. Usually chicks I meet at Miles’s club. Tall, slender, toned as fuck. But they didn’t have what Soph has. And that’s real curves. Womanly. She’s young and yet her body just begs to be held and caressed. Spanked and bitten.

  When she notices me staring at her stomach, she frowns and her throat turns bright red. She tugs at the fabric to hide from me. If she were my woman, I’d tie her pretty wrists up so she could never hide from me. I would kiss and suck on her stomach until she screamed.

  Fuck.

  I’m falling so deep down the rabbit hole, I don’t know that I’ll ever back away from how I’m feeling about this girl. I need to remain professional and finish my damn job.

  And yet…

  I can’t.

  My gaze smolders into hers as I give her a growled command. “Take your panties off. They’re in the way.”

  It’s a lie. We both know it. I’m fucking up bad right now. By crossing the line with her, I’m jeopardizing everything. My practice. My freedom. My sanity.

  She starts but then shakes her head. For a brief moment, I’m disappointed, but then she whispers. “Can you do it for me?”

  My fingers dig into her flesh as I greedily latch onto the fabric. Roughly, I drag them down her thighs to her knees. Then, I slide them the rest of the way off her body. I fist them in my hand and my dick jumps once I realize how wet they are. I set them on her chest before sneaking a peek at her pussy.

  Smooth.

  Fuck me.

  I want to ask her how the fuck she gets her pussy that smooth when she can barely move her hips but I bite the question back. I haven’t crossed the line fully yet. That question will only send me spiraling further.

  Clearing my throat, I scoop up some more cream and start rubbing her hip once more. Her breathing is heavy as I massage her. My long fingers stretch out as far as they’ll go, touching parts of her that don’t require touching to heal. But I touch her there anyway.

  “Drew?”

  Her voice is small and unsure. I want to kiss her neck in an encouraging way that will send the words confidently leaping from her throat.

  “Yeah?”

  “I want to get better.”

  “I know you do,” I murmur, my thumb sliding along the crease of her leg. “I’m going to make you feel so much better.”

  Our eyes meet again. Double meaning charges the air between us. She shifts slightly before scooting her knee up. Then, she eases her thigh off to the side. Her pussy is open and inviting. My dick begs for the grand tour.

  “Does it help if I do this?”

  I growl and nod as I massage her warm skin. When my finger accidentally brushes against one of her pussy lips, she shudders. Wild desire rages in her green eyes. I want to set it free and get burned by it.

  So, I cross the line.

  My fingers, lubed up from the cream, begin massaging the sensitive flesh near her pussy. Each breath she takes is ragged. I slid
e my finger along her slit which causes her to moan.

  “Relax,” I order.

  She doesn’t relax though. Her hips rock as if she’s chasing my movements. I can’t help but be proud of her much easier movement. Maybe dangling an orgasm in front of her is the way to help her achieve her goals.

  I begin rubbing my thumb in firm measured circles on her clit. She whimpers and squirms. Those pretty greens get hidden when her lashes fluttered closed. With my heated gaze on her, I tease her opening with my finger.

  She’s fucking soaked.

  My dick is about to rip through my khakis and take control of the situation. For now, though, I’ll own her with just my hand. I want this girl more than any woman I’ve ever come in contact with. She’s the ultimate temptation. I have a hard time telling myself no when I want something.

  And I want her.

  So fucking badly.

  Pushing into her with my fingers, I’m astonished at how tight her little cunt is. No man has ever been here. I can tell by the way her virgin walls clench me tight.

  “You’re a virgin,” I murmur.

  She nods, her throat reddening.

  “I’m going to take it right now with my fingers.”

  “W-What?”

  “Because when I fuck you—and I will fuck you, Soph—I don’t want anything standing in my way. Not even a tiny piece of flesh.”

  Her brows crash together but she nods.

  I rub two fingers against her pussy to thoroughly coat them with her juices. I’m just easing them past her lips when the door creaks open.

  “Drew,” Johnna whispers. “Sorry to interrupt but someone wants to talk to the owner. They say it’s important.”

  My back is to her so there’s no way she can tell I have my fingers breaching Soph’s pussy. One glance at Sophia and she’s horrified. I jerk my head over my shoulder to make sure Johnna can’t see what I’m doing.

  “Tell them I’ll be right there,” I bark out. “Close the door.”

  She nods and obeys. Before she even has the door closed, I push my fingers deep inside of Soph. Her scream is otherworldly and much like the ones she makes when I make her move her hips.

  I like her screams.

  I like them a whole fucking lot.

  “Oh, God,” she chokes out, tears streaming from her eyes. “You hurt me.”

  I smirk. “Don’t be a crybaby. Now I’m going to make it feel good.”

  She glares at me as if she doesn’t believe me. But then my fingers are moving and my thumb is rubbing her clit. It doesn’t take long before I work her right up into an orgasm that coats my fingers with her arousal. I revel in the way her body jolts and quivers.

  When she comes down from her high, I ease my fingers from her body. The blood of her innocence is smeared all over them. Her eyes are wide as she gapes in astonishment.

  “Now you’re ready for my cock,” I tell her simply as I stand. She boldly stares at my erection straining in my slacks as I stride over to the sink. “Get dressed, Soph.”

  I sneak a glance while I wash my hands. Her eyes are wild and needy. It makes me hard as fuck which is a problem considering I need to be out those doors and talking to whoever the fuck thought it was a good idea to interrupt me.

  “Tonight, I’ll pick you up at seven,” I tell her as I dry off my hands. “Tell your dad you’re staying the night with a friend.”

  “I’m staying over?”

  “Unless you don’t think you can handle it,” I challenge, a smirk playing at my lips. “I’m not gentle.”

  She snorts. “No kidding.”

  “It’ll probably hurt, crybaby.”

  Her gaze narrows. “I think I can handle whatever you dish out, ass.”

  When I flash her a wicked grin, she gives me one back.

  Sophia Rowe is fucking gorgeous when she smiles.

  And I’m about to make her smile a whole lot more.

  Oh. My. God.

  I can’t believe I let fuck-hot Drew Hamilton finger me.

  And I came so hard I saw stars. He hurt me but then he was making me feel so good I was losing my mind. It seems surreal.

  Maybe I dreamed it.

  When the doorbell rings, unease skitters down my spine. I most certainly did not dream it. Drew is here to take me back to his house to do God knows what. I’m turned on and positively terrified. All at once.

  It takes me a minute to rise from the couch and then hobble over to the door, my cane thwacking the floor along the way. Right before I reach the threshold, self-doubt creeps in. What am I doing? Drew is hot and successful and established. He could be with anyone he wanted. Why me?

  With those thoughts lingering, I open the door. As soon as I see him, my mouth goes dry. He’s still wearing the crisp blue polo that brings out his eyes. His hair is no longer styled to perfection. It’s as though he’s been running his fingers through it all afternoon. I want to run my fingers through it.

  His gaze flickers with apprehension. I make a mental note of what I’m wearing and frown. One of my old softball tees and a pair of comfy jeans. He works with nicely dressed women all day, like Johnna for instance with her smart slacks and button-up blouses.

  And then there’s me.

  “Hey,” he utters, his voice gritty. The way he says one simple word seems to scratch along my insides in a way that has me shivering with need.

  “Hey.” I force a smile. Fake and so bright he might get burned by it.

  His eyebrow lifts and he takes a step closer to me. My heart rate quickens at his nearness and my smile falls away. He reaches for my face and runs his thumb along my bottom lip.

  “This lip is distracting,” he murmurs, his eyes fixated on it.

  Now, my smile is genuine. Soft. Real. It belongs to him.

  “Your hair is distracting,” I tease. “It’s so messy.”

  He smirks and his hand falls away so that he can push his unruly locks out of his eyes. “I had a helluva afternoon.”

  Emboldened, I lift my chin. “Is that so? What made it so difficult?”

  His body moves impossibly closer to mine. We don’t touch but the heat of it scorches my front side. “I was too busy worrying over a patient.”

  “How come?”

  He licks his lips and heat surges through me. “I fixed her up right but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to do so much more to help her.”

  I smile. Again, natural. It feels strange on my lips. “What else would you have done to help her?”

  His hand cups my jaw before threading into my hair and I lean into his touch. I’ve spent nine months hardening my heart toward everyone. It’s refreshing to crave the touch of another.

  “I would have,” he whispers, his lips hovering over mine. Hot. Needy. Desperate. “I would have claimed her perfect pouty mouth as I should have done first.” A deep sound rumbles in his chest, vibrating against me. “But I’m greedy. Fuck, am I greedy. Now that I’ve touched her, I want to devour every inch of her.”

  “Maybe you can make up for lost time,” I breathe, my eyes fluttering so I can see his handsome face.

  Darkness and lust and hunger flicker in his navy blue eyes. I want to get consumed by him. “Sophia,” he murmurs. The very way he says my name is domineering. Possessive. Starved. “I’m going to kiss you and then I’m going to take your sexy little body back to my house where I can ravish it. Do you want to be ravished?”

  I’m not sure what all ravishing entails but I want it. Jesus, do I ever want it. “Yes.”

  “Good. And I hope this tough girl persona isn’t an act. I need you to be strong and unbreakable. When it comes to sex, I’m not hearts and flowers. I’m raw, animalistic need. I’m a beast in human form. I can’t be gentle or sweet.” His lips press softly on my lips, a stark contrast to his harshly spoken words. “I am going to ruin you, baby. That is my only warning.”

  Dirty images of him and I rolling around in the sheets have heat flooding to my core. I’ve been in a mental fog for the past nine months, mostly
in part due to the pain pills, but also because of the depression. Everything was stolen from me in the blink of an eye.

  Drew promises the delicious kind of pain and pleasure, a reprieve from the numbness. My body thrums with excitement. Hell, I don’t get excited about anything these days.

  I feel alive.

  “I’m already ruined,” I whisper.

  He grits his teeth as if he disagrees and his other hand clutches around the front of my throat in a possessive way. Not as though he wants to hurt me but as though he wants to pin me in this very spot forever. “You are not ruined.”

  My laugh is scornful and bitter. “I can hardly move my hips without screaming pain. My college future is gone. Friends and family walk around on eggshells because of my anger.” I choke on my words and beg the tears to go away. The stubborn shit rolls down my cheeks boldly. “You can’t ruin what’s already destroyed. Do your worst.”

  He clutches my throat and kisses me hard—so hard I’m sure he’ll bruise me. His fingers dig into my flesh. Powerful and selfish. I love the sensation so much that I moan loudly. An embarrassing beg for more. A plea to do exactly what he warned.

  Ruin me.

  Destroy every piece of me.

  Remind me that I have a living, beating heart inside my ribcage.

  His tongue thrusts deep into my mouth as if he seeks to dominate my own. Ever the scrappy one, I duel with him. Taste and suck him. Show him I’m a worthy opponent. Not some little girl.

  I was a soft girl who had to grow up quickly into a hardened woman.

  A woman who wears pain like armor.

  A woman who watches the world around her and wonders if she has purpose anymore yet somehow doesn’t give up when she can’t find that purpose.

  His growl consumes me almost as deeply as his kiss does. The vibrations quake through me, awakening all my nerve endings along the way. Marking me instantly with his scent and presence and taste.

  I clutch onto his polo and fist it with my hand but it’s not enough. My cane hits the floor with a clatter as I grab desperately onto him. His hand on my throat remains but he slips his other to the small of my back. I’m pulled into his embrace and am now able to feel his hard cock practically jumping between us. Another needy moan escapes me.