I raise an eyebrow, trying to temper the flare of hope kindling inside of me. “You would?”
“Of course. Medicine is a constantly evolving animal. One day, the method you think you’ve perfected will change. A successful surgeon stays aware of new possibilities. Even the possibility that he’s wrong. That’s the most important one.” She goes up on her toes and plants a kiss on my chin. “I’m even more positive now that you’re brilliant.”
She tries to move away from me, but I catch her around the waist and pull her up against me. Into a hug. Out of pure necessity, because I’m being flooded with gratitude and it’s not a feeling I’m familiar with. People are usually showing me their gratitude and I never pay it much heed. I’m just doing my job. But I can see now that they’re expressing something that’s truly profound. And I’m going to pay much more attention to it now. Because of Charlotte.
“Thank you,” I say into her hair. “I needed to hear that.”
Charlotte turns her exquisite face up to mine, lips pursed. “Look at me, pep talking the Messiah of Medicine.”
My expression turns momentarily sour. “I hate that nickname.”
Her giggle warms me, right down to my feet. “If that was my nickname, I’d have it put on T-shirts. Bumper stickers, even!”
“You’ll have a better one someday.”
Fuck. My chest is twisting, the words I love you trying to leap out of my mouth.
This girl is bringing me to life and it’s almost as painful as it is beautiful.
Maybe I should just tell her. That I would walk through hell for her. That I would give up medicine and go live in a shack on the other side of the world if she just looks at me like this every single morning. But Christ, this is not the boundary I should be pushing. Today was the first time she texted me, admitted to missing me. I need to be pleased with that—for now.
“Yes,” she says, echoing me. “Someday.”
The way she emphasizes that word reminds me of the silent battle taking place between us. Once again, through what she said about medicine evolving, she’s proven how ripe she is for the medical field. And part of me wants to shake her, demand she let me facilitate her education. Her expression wards off the sentiment quite handily, though. I’ll choke down the words for now. Maybe I can’t easily change her mind…
But I can manipulate her body.
There are zero physical barriers between us and I burn to be that close to her now.
Now.
Reaching forward, I wind her hair around my fist. “Why are your panties still on?”
It’s like watching someone be submerged. She goes from playful to overwhelmed in the space of a second, her breath stuttering out. “I…I…”
“Maybe you wanted me to take them off for you.” Letting go of her hair, I bring both hands to her hips, molding them once, then roughly yanking down her underwear, exposing her bare pussy to the sun, leaving the garment around her trembling knees. Though my instinct is to surge forward, get my hands all over her and tongue fuck her mouth, I lean sideways instead and pick up her champagne, holding it to her lips. “Drink, little girl.”
She takes one sip and averts her eyes, breathing hard. Several seconds pass while she obviously toys with something in her mind. Based on her glazed expression, that something is…new. “Is this drink going to make me more…agreeable, Daddy?”
Those words are an erotic punch to the stomach.
She’s hinting that she wants to play a game. A dark one.
A twisted one.
As if I could deny her anything when she’s naked, golden and glowing in the sunlight, her eyelids heavy with arousal. As if I could put a stop to this when she’s looking up at me with earnest, green eyes, her nipples puckered. I want it, too. I want anything that turns her on.
“Why don’t you swallow every drop and let me worry about that?” I rasp, tilting the glass to her lips again, watching her throat work as she takes down the liquid. Then I set down the glass and lead her to the shallow end of the pool, guiding her down the steps.
“Oh my gosh, it’s heated,” she moans, gliding down into the glassy blue water, her thighs vanishing under the surface, followed by her delectable rear end. I follow her, memorizing her sounds of pleasure, every movement she makes. I can feel the obsession inside of me taking hold and it’s a physical struggle not to roar like a possessive beast. Doesn’t she understand my insides are being clawed to hell every second I’m with her?
Sex is what I can have right now.
This game.
And I’m damn well going to make it count.
Swimming up beside Charlotte, I guide her into the deep end, remaining along the edge of the pool. Her movements are languid, a little slow, exaggerated. The alcohol has turned her cheeks slightly rosy underneath her usual glow. The deeper we get, the more she has to kick to stay afloat, though my feet easily reach the floor, thanks to my height.