Damaged - Forbidden Lovers - Page 14

“Love isn’t going to be part of this,” I insisted, trying to hold out against the feather light touch of his fingers tracing my sex, stroking my core.

“Love is already part of this, and you know it,” he said.

Instead of panicking like I would in real life, I moaned, knowing deep down that he meant it. That this was it. Love. The big one. The man I’d been waiting for, secretly, under my sarcasm, under my fear.

He turns me around, stretches out beside me and kisses me full and deep. He strokes my face, his eyes so beautiful and so intense on mine.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. We’ve been going around in circles for weeks, Layla. You knew it would come to this.”

I feel excitement welling up in me as I bite my lip.

“I’m in love with you. I think I have been since the day we met.”

He brushes his lips against mine and we kiss softly. I don’t dare tell him that I’m ready to burst into tears with the overwhelming emotion in my chest. I just cling to him, let him enfold me in those strong arms until our desire won’t let us keep still. His hands start roam my body again, restless and too skilled. I find myself gasping at his touch. I unbutton his shirt slowly, one button at a time, just to make up for the way he wound me up earlier and then held off. I can feel the heat rolling off of him and the barely perceptible reaction every time my fingers brush his bare chest. Soon I have his shirt open and put my mouth to his chest. He groans and strokes my hair, liking this.

Then I’m on my back, his fingers stroking me to make me ready. It’s my turn to grin wickedly at him now because I’m beyond ready for him. He levers up on his arms, his eyes locked on mine. He frowns, concentration wrinkling his brow as he dips his cock inside me, stirs in a teasing circle until I cant my hips to take more of him. Then there’s the heat and the frenzy of thrusting and sweat and panting, his rough kiss and his relentless fingers between my legs above where we are joined until I clutch him with my inner muscles as I come and feel the hot wash of his climax and hear the cry he gives as he joins me.

Somehow the dream ends with us sleeping in each other’s arms. I am annoyed and bothered by the fact that my dirty dreams are suddenly being directed by some cutesy romcom. I like my fantasies hot and heavy, a quick, rocking payoff. No caressing and words of love. That crap doesn’t belong in my head even if I’m asleep.

Still, my subconscious has decided stubbornly that Tyler Leeds is the male lead and an incurable romantic, an attentive lover, the bringer of multiple orgasms. I have to forget the dream guy so I can have coffee with the real one, the traumatized veteran I am inconveniently attracted to. The patient I can’t date or screw. The man I should leave the hell alone. Before he consumes me.

Because even when he didn’t speak much in the last couple group sessions, his eyes were on me. I felt the weight of them, the heat of his gaze and the way he seemed to see into me, peeling off my clothing and laying me bare. The tension was unbearable. I drank an entire bottle of water every session now because my mouth was dry, and it was hard to swallow. Evidently all the moisture in my body concentrated between my legs when he was around. I could feel how slippery I was when I crossed my legs. When he asked me Thursday if we were still on for coffee, I had said, “Sure.” When what I wanted to say was something utterly inappropriate.

I was getting my stuff together to rush off when I felt a tug on my messenger bag. I looked over my shoulder as I stood. Tyler’s hand lifted the strap and set it on my shoulder, smoothed it down.

“Do you need help?”

“No, I’m good,” I said with a too-bright smile.

“I could walk you to your car,” he offered. I shook my head.

“No, no, I’m fine. I have a late yoga class,” I said, lying.

“You don’t want my help.”

“I don’t need help. I’m fine on my own. Really,” I insisted.

Still, I felt the sharp tug to move toward him, a pull between us stronger than gravity. I felt lightheaded around him, and I smiled too much. I was afraid if I let the man walk me to my car that I would lose my head and start climbing him like a tree right there in the employee parking lot. I could not risk my job and reputation when I knew that I was falling prey to such an attraction. It was like I’d been drugged, was how I thought of it. I was under the influence of Tyler Leeds or his intoxicating pheromones or his peach of an ass in those worn out Wranglers. So I told him a strained good night and got out of there before I could go off the rails completely.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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