Pressure (Valley Hospital Series Book 1) (4 page)

Once the fabric hits the floor, his lips leave mine and his eyes search every curve of my body. “You’re going to destroy me.”

I want to say that’s not my intention, but I can’t. His fingertips are skating up my thighs, and as I shiver, I suddenly want nothing more than to be with him, to watch him crumble under my touch. I let my hands run up his chest. I begin to unbutton his shirt from the top. As each button is undone, more of his chiseled chest is revealed. His washboard stomach and that achingly perfect V. The words “
In purity and according to divine law will I carry out my life and my art… nil nocere,
” are scrawled elegantly along his ribcage… I’m not sure what it’s from, but’s it beautiful. He’s too good to be true.

I want to ask what it means, but his fingers dust across my inner thigh. “Cole.” His name falls from my lips in a needy breath as he kneels before me, leaving me standing and shaking with anticipation. He spreads my legs wide, and I almost drop his intense stare. He never stops watching as he slips two fingers inside me. He grips my waist with his other hand to hold me up, to hold me in place. His jaw clenches as he feels how ready I am for him.

“Fuck, Bailey.” He presses his thumb right where I need him to, and my hips rock without my permission. Tightening his hold on my body, his lips kiss a trail up my leg. His mouth moves against me— his teeth rake against my tender skin, his tongue licks, and his lips pull at my clit. I start to shatter. My cheeks are hot, and my hands tangle in his hair to guide him where I need him most. My head falls back, and I cry out unintelligible words. Then just as I think I can’t take it, he curls his fingers inside me, and I come again. I try to push him away, but the grip he has on my hip won’t allow it.

“Cole, please… it’s too much.” The words are a rushed breath, and my legs are trembling. My ability to stand is faltering. I can feel when Cole smiles against me.

He draws his hand along the curve of my waist as he stands. Our lips meet again in a deep kiss, and I can taste myself on his tongue. He pulls away and brings his hand to my cheek. “You should always come at least twice. With how good you taste, I’d gladly make you come over and over again.”

His words brought my blush to an all-time high. I’d never been one to talk about sex. The guys I dated, they were mostly academic, easy… safe. And after a few good times, I send them on their way. Coming more than once isn’t something I’m used to. “What about you?” I reach down, dipping my thumb below his belt making him shudder.

He fists his hand in my hair and brings his mouth to mine roughly. He drags his teeth across my bottom lip just before he separates his lips from mine. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Bailey, but don’t tease me.”

“I won’t.”

I want to see him fall apart. See him disheveled…

I want to know what he looks like when he comes, when he loses control.

Will he clench his jaw? Will he hold me down? Does he growl on release? Will he show me all abandon?

Will he succumb to the pressure?

Will he let himself feel it, be free?

These questions run through my head as I ease myself down in front of him. My hands shake. I know very little about this man, but I can see the fire in his eyes. I can see how I affect him, and I like it.

The taste of her is still heavy on my tongue. I’ve never tasted anything so good, and if she weren't kneeling before me now, I’d have her coming in my mouth again. Bailey’s hands shake as she pulls my jeans and boxer briefs down in slow motion until I'm able to kick off my shoes and step out of them. Her eyes widen as she admires my size. She runs her tongue down my stomach, along the V of my hip before taking her lips to the tip of my cock. My eyes close for a moment, her hot breath making me unbearably hard. Her hand grips the shaft as she takes me in her mouth. My hands crudely tangle in her hair, guiding the motion. My eyes are open, and I watch as she tries desperately to take my length fully into her sweet as fuck mouth. Her tongue licking, her lips sucking… the sound makes me growl. I tighten my grip on the back of her head; her slow push and pull isn’t enough. I need it hard… I need to come in her mouth… down her throat. The desire to fill her with every inch of me is fierce. I thrust my hips, and she moans. I fuck her face slowly at first, reveling in the feel of my cock sliding down her throat. Her eyes water, but she takes it all. Her groan vibrates against the head, making it difficult to hold on.

My teeth drag across my bottom lip; my neck strains and my head tilts back as I call out her name. “Bailey… Christ.” I pump hard inside her tight little mouth, my release spilling down her throat. She pulls away and smiles just before she licks the tip again. I shudder as the sensation runs up my spine. My hands fall from her hair, and she stands. I pull her against me, aligning our bodies. Her mouth on mine, our scents blending together across our lips, it’s raw. Letting go with her wasn’t what I expected; I’ve never felt so out of control.

I slow our kiss, my palms burning against her cheeks. My eyes find hers, and the desire that pours from the deep green of her irises tells me what I need to know. “Face the table.” My voice is so low I don’t even recognize it.

Her lips tremble as she takes a step backward. She’s all curves; her small form is an hourglass. The deep pink of her nipples, the slope of her breast, the warm tan of her skin… I can’t help but be hard again. I fist my hand around my cock as she bites the side of her cheek. “Face the table,” I repeat with a bit more command in my tone. She does as I ask. “Bend over, Bailey.”

I groan as I bring myself higher with each stroke of my hand. Her compliance turns me on more than I thought possible. It helps that she’s laid out before me now— her round ass in the air, her legs parted. She’s open, ready, wet, just for me. I take three steps, and I’m right behind her. I notice her palms splay across the wood of the table; her fingers curl around the table’s edge. She’s completely surrendering herself to me. I release the grip on my cock and run both my hands along either side of her body. Her ass lifts higher as she shivers. “Keep your hands on the table.”

“Yes, sir.” The word
sir
is just a breath, but it is full of need. I run two fingers across her smooth, bare pussy. I lick the same fingers, her taste fuels my raging pulse, and I know I won’t be able to draw this out much longer.

How did I end up here?
My work ethic, that ever present drive to give one hundred percent, to give myself peace through pattern and routine… that strict, regimented order that I crave? When I have her on my lips, none of it matters. This is undermining everything I hold as a standard. I don’t fuck like this. I don’t want to possess anything more than myself, but right now… as I sink my rigid as hell cock into her tight pussy, I can’t figure out where she begins and I end. I want nothing more than to have her, take her, and make her mine. It doesn’t make sense, this drive to have her, but it’s irresistible. Her muscles contract around me, and the low rumble in my throat erupts across my lips.

“Oh God,” Bailey cries out, her fingers clasp the opposite side of the table, bracing herself as I bury myself within her completely in one rough thrust.

My hands grip the flesh of her ass as I continue to punish her with an aggressive rhythm. I pull out almost all the way and hesitate before I rock my hips into her again. I lean over her body, my lips at her ear. “Bailey,” I growl, and my teeth nip at her earlobe as she circles her hips.

“I’m so close, faster,” she whimpers and pulses around me.

I quicken each stroke, each time my breathing becoming more jagged. She lifts her hips just enough that I’m able to reach under her, my thumb now moving against her, her clit throbbing. Her breaths coming faster, and her hips start to shake. Her legs buckle as she falls over that ledge of pleasure. Her climax milks my release, and we come together in a loud roar. I fill her to the hilt, my cock pulsing inside her. Bailey’s whole body trembles as I leave lazy kisses along her spine.

I pull out from between her legs; her flawless body lay spent across the wooden surface. Her back rises and falls with heavy breaths. I inhale deeply trying to catch my own. My fingertips run along her ribcage, and she shivers. The palm of my hand ghosts across her backside, and my fingers gently run across her center. She gasps as I push them into her.

“Cole, I-I can’t,” she stutters.

“You will.”

I lick my lips as I watch her come again. I curl my fingers inside her once more as she screams out my name. Her legs collapse fully now, and I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her enough to hold her against me as the violent climax wracks through her body. I pick her up into my arms and carry her to the couch, kneeling on the ground as I lay her on the thick cushions. Our eyes never leave each other’s. The intense gaze we hold makes my pulse rush. I gently push a stray hair behind her ear. The chocolate strands are twisted and messy, her cheeks a heated
rosé
. She’s gorgeous.

“You’re beautiful.” The words leave my mouth against my better judgment. It’s clear to me that I won’t be able to have just one night with her. A smile breaks across her face.

“You’re handsome.” The smirk she’s wearing is sexy as fuck.

I pull the blanket that’s laying across the back of the couch down as I stand and lay it over her. “I should get dressed.” I move to the kitchen and slip my boxer briefs and jeans on. Bailey sits up and observes me with bright eyes.

“Will you stay?” Her question hovers in the air as I clasp the final button on my shirt.

I want to stay. I want to wake up next her… have my tongue deep inside her as the sun rises… I have so many things running through my head, but I know I shouldn’t. Staying isn’t an option.

“I can’t.” I thought having her tonight would sooth the ache, that need, but it hasn’t. It’s just stoked the fire further.

“You can’t or you won’t?” She sits up and stands, dropping the blanket. My lips part as I drink in her movements; her naked body is pure fucking torture.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why? I just let you fuck me across my kitchen table. I think the “should” and the “shouldn’t” flew out the window four orgasms ago.” Her eyes lock on mine, and I exhale sharply. Bailey wraps her arms around my neck and presses her body along mine. She places her full lips against my mouth, and I melt. The cinnamon flavor of her lips is intoxicating.

I nip her top lip as I pull away. “Not tonight. I work tomorrow.” Her smile drops just enough that I show my entire hand, go all in. Fuck! Let’s be honest, the whole deck is hers. “Can I take you out after work? Dinner sound good?”

Her grin widens. “I’m supposed to meet up with my friends tomorrow night at some bar downtown to see a concert, some local band called Lakeside Prophets. A last hurrah before I’m a professional. Could we go there after?”

A bar. Not my scene. “Let’s have dinner and play it by ear.” My statement catches me off guard. I’m not spontaneous, and I sure as fuck don’t play shit by ear. She is unraveling the heavy thread of who I have become… and fuck it all... I’ll let her.

The shrill beep of my coffee maker alerts me the heavens have finally arrived. The warm water of my earlier shower did nothing to soothe the ache in my muscles, or between my legs.
Cole.
My lips break open into a stupid grin. I should feel a bit like a whore, I guess, but as I pour my coffee and look over at the table I’d had the best sex of my life on… I think I’ll give myself a break. Besides, name-calling isn’t very nice. I tried to put thoughts of Cole on the backburner all night last night, but to my dismay, and lack of sleep, I wasn’t successful.

He’s a doctor, well-tailored, good with his mouth, and sexy in the most unreasonable kind of way, but I know not one thing about him. This tiny little detail I hope to rectify tonight. I’m so nervous to have dinner with him if I’m being honest.
The man had had his tongue in places Jesus never intended for tongues to go.
I giggle at my stupid internal joke and sip my coffee. This is what I do, though. It’s my M.O. I get myself all worked up and worried, and then I self-sabotage. It’s my way of keeping myself from getting hurt, and with Cole… I don’t see any way this can’t end badly.

Our physical attraction is otherworldly. What if we go to dinner tonight and I have nothing to say, or he chews funny, or I make jokes and he doesn’t get it? Humor is very important. Cole seems so much older than me, so much more mature, I doubt he’ll even have fun at the bar tonight. I close my eyes and try to picture him sitting in the bar, loud music blaring through the speakers, college kids jamming out to the live show. He’d take one step inside, look around, and then run for the hills.

Shit Bailey!

Why in the hell did you let him in last night?

Why? Why? Why?

My phone vibrates on the coffee table breaking me out of my full-blown attempt at sabotage one-oh-one. I drag myself over to the couch and pick up my phone, noticing three missed texts. One is from Trace confirming the show tonight is at Blue Bar. The next is from my new manager reminding me that
Orientation
starts at nine sharp tomorrow morning. I have to remember that. Easy on the liquor tonight young lady! The last text is from Cole. My thumb hovers over the screen, and my heart beats wildly in my chest.

This is it.

I could back out now.

We both had a good time, and I could avoid the ER like the plague. Cole Larkin would never need to see me again. The thought makes my stomach churn. It doesn’t make sense, he’s totally wrong for me, but I just can’t stop my thumb from swiping across the glass surface of my cell.

Cole:
I’m going to pick you up tonight. Seven thirty. I hope you like sushi.

I exhale a noisy breath as I type out my response.

Me:
What if I said I’m driving, eight thirty, and I hate sushi.

I smirk when my phone vibrates in my hand. He’s quick.

Cole:
Let me take you to dinner… it doesn’t have to be sushi.

I swallow and my teeth chew on the side of my cheek. He makes me antsy, another thing I’m not used to when it comes to men.

Me:
I love sushi. Take me to dinner, Cole.

I watch my screen with eager eyes. I want his words; for once, I actually want to be chased.

Cole:
See you at seven-thirty.

His response took a minute, and I wonder if he, too, is just as panicked as I am?

The better part of my day was spent calming Trace and Becca the hell down. It was a mistake to tell them about my little interlude with Dr. Larkin, but I had to tell someone. I promised them I’d try and drag him to the bar so they could meet him, and that seemed to do the trick. Now, it’s seven twenty. I pop my birth control pill—thank you modern medicine—and, as I raise my head from the sink, I catch my reflection in the mirror. My face is too flushed, my eyes too wide. At least my hair looks pretty. Letting it dry on its own creates long, natural waves. I’m wearing the cutest dark blue spaghetti strap dress. I wasn’t going to wear a dress, but it’s summer. If I’m ever going to wear it, tonight’s the best time to do it.

The knock on my door drives my belly full of butterflies to a whole new level of frenzy. I grab my bag off the bathroom vanity and call out. “Be right there!”

I quickly slip on my red chucks and head to the front door. My mouth feels dry. I’m so worried he’ll see me and come to his senses. Or worse, I’ll see him and come to mine. As soon as the door opens, my chest feels lighter. His smile is full-watt as he takes me in. He chuckles at my shoes. It’s then I notice his are black leather and look expensive. His high-end jeans fit him like a glove, and tonight he’s wearing another well-tailored button-down. It’s steel gray, and the color almost turns his eyes black.
Fuck
. I want to shut the door in his tempting face. This man is way too freaking perfect, but he’s asked to take me to dinner so that’s what we’ll do.

“You look nice. But if we decide to go to the show later… I want to get you a band T-shirt so you can see how the other half lives… in cotton.” I smirk, and he narrows his eyes.

“No heels tonight? Good thing since I left my suture kit at the hospital.”

So he can dish it. Score one for the good doctor.

“Hilarious, let’s go eat raw fish then… shall we?” I turn the lock on the door as I shut it behind me.

He takes my hand in his, and the warmth of it runs up my arm. When he circles his thumb against my skin, it sends a shiver up my spine. His tall, broad body covering me, filling me, making me feel higher than any drug or bottle of wine could, is all I fantasize about as we walk to his car.

“It’s not very far away, the restaurant, just a few minutes’ drive.” He opens my door for me and when the leather of the seat hits my legs, I sigh. It’s a sweet relief having something other than him touching me. When his skin is on my skin, it’s next to impossible
not
to think about sex. His mouth tasting me, his fingers inside me, his lips on my ear.

Shit Bailey, simmer the hell down.

I pull my bottom lip through my teeth and exhale as he takes a seat. The engine comes to life, and the car moves easily from the parking stall. He smiles at me again. Last night I’d seen that smile waver, but tonight he’s all confidence, and it eases my fraying nerves.

“You look nervous, Bailey.” He reaches over with one hand, letting his palm rest on my thigh as he drives. “Don’t be. I’ll make this as painless as possible.” His deep voice rattles in his chest as he laughs, and my lips spread into an appreciative grin.

“You’re horrible at trying to make jokes, doctor. It’s sort of nerdy, yet incredibly sexy. Not sure what that says about me.” My laugh is a short huff, and his grin pulls wider.

He lifts his hand from my knee and runs his thumb along the dimple in my cheek. “I fucking love this.”

It’s just four words, but as his hand leaves my face, I can’t think of another time I’ve ever felt more special.

I’ve never been to this sushi restaurant before because it’s freaking expensive, and I feel underdressed in my Target sundress sitting next to Dr. Cole Larkin and his one hundred dollar jeans. He booked a booth in the back, thank God, making it easier for me to feel no shame as I shovel down the best damn sushi I’ve ever eaten.

Cole, on the other hand, is as methodical as they come. When our food first arrived it was almost side show funny how meticulous he was about everything. He rearranged his dishes so they lined up perfectly. He counted the drops of freaking soy sauce for Christ’s sake. He placed, not just one fat dollop of wasabi, oh no, no—but three evenly portioned wasabi dollops into his soy sauce and stirred it clockwise twice and counter-clockwise once. I haven’t said anything about it, but now as I watch him arrange the sushi rolls on his plate, I just have to know.

“I’d ask if you’re always so OCD? But I already know the answer to that.” I smile around my chopsticks as I pop a piece of spicy tuna into my mouth.

“Excuse me?” He laughs and shakes his head. “I just like things a certain way. Is that a problem for you?” He gives me a devious grin before taking a drink of his Saki.

“Do you ever just let things fall into place naturally? Let yourself feel the pandemonium of a non-ordered moment?” I watch as his pupils dilate as they meet mine.

“I did… last night… with you.” He watches as the blush pools along my cheeks.

“That’s the first time—”

“Of course not. When I was younger, in college, I had flings. But my life… it needed structure, I needed to rely on myself. I guess over time, I’ve let that order dictate the majority of my choices. It’s all I know.” His jaw clenches, and he places his chopsticks down on his plate.

I don’t want to pry, but that’s what dating is, isn’t it? Getting to know a person? Otherwise, I’d much rather have him fuck me on my kitchen table again. But right now, he seems so much older than he should, he seems sad, and it bothers me.

“How old are you?”

He shakes his head, a small grin forming on his lips. “Thirty-two. Why?”

“You seem older. I think you need a bit more fun in your life. Let’s get shit-face, sloppy drunk, Cole, and go see this awesome band tonight?” My smile falls as he drops our eye contact.

“That’s not my scene, Bailey. I’d rather not.”