A Home for the M.D.

Neither of them was in a hurry. Jacqui, for one, had nowhere else to be. Tonight they didn’t have to worry about discretion; they had complete privacy here in her apartment. They took full advantage of that freedom.

They left his shirt on the couch when they moved toward the bedroom. His shoes were shed somewhere along the way. By the time they reached her bed, her jeans were on the floor. His mouth seeking hers again, Mitch reached for the hem of her knit top.

She had only a momentary qualm before she raised her arms to allow him to tug the shirt over her head. It wasn’t entirely modesty that gave her pause. Mitch’s gaze zoomed straight to the reason she had hesitated.

His touch was so very gentle when he traced the scar that crossed her abdomen. “Spleen?”

“Gone.”

“The accident?”

“Yes.” She had spent six weeks recovering physically from that surgery. She would never fully recover emotionally, although the pain had lessened somewhat with time.

She had to be careful of infections and take a few routine precautions, but otherwise, she could live a full, normal life without a spleen. A doctor had told her after the surgery that she was fortunate to have lost only that relatively unnecessary organ. Still half-crazed with guilt and grief, she had screamed at him that he was an idiot. She had lost so much more than a spleen in that accident.

Catching her face between his hands, Mitch brushed his lips across hers, the kiss so sweet, so tender that it brought a lump to her throat. His mouth moved lightly across her cheek and down her throat, his hands exploring her back with long, smooth strokes that were as arousing as they were soothing. Lowering her to the bed, he kissed her throat and then the rise of her breasts above her white lace bra. He touched his lips to the scar before returning to capture her mouth, unfastening her bra as he did so.

She was not busty, but he seemed to approve of the way her breasts fit into his hands. His thumbs rotated lazily, and she arched with a gasp of reaction. It had been a while since she had allowed anyone this access, since there had been anyone with whom she had wanted to share these intimacies. Her rapidly overheating body was letting her know just how much she needed this release.

Mitch had come prepared for lovemaking. She decided to wonder later if he’d been so confident that she would invite him to stay, or if he had simply hoped she would. Whatever the reason, for now she could only be grateful.

For all the reasons she had listed earlier of why they were so poorly matched, they were certainly an ideal fit physically. Their bodies moved together, meshed together as perfectly as if they’d been built as a set. Once again, she sensed no awkwardness or hesitance between them. Sure, there was a giddy, first-time excitement—and yet an odd familiarity at the same time, a sensation she had felt with him before. If she were the fanciful, romantic type, she would imagine they were meant to be together. Fortunately, she was more sensible than that, she thought, even as she drew him closer.

They climaxed together, their soft cries sounding in perfect harmony.

Propped on one elbow, Mitch gazed down at Jacqui as she lay beside him, both slowly recovering their strength. He loved touching her hair, he mused, brushing a strand from her flushed face. It was so soft and thick, the cute, choppy cut tickling his fingers. Some guys were obsessed with long hair, but he thought Jacqui’s style was perfect to best display her graceful neck and the pretty face highlighted by those big, dark eyes that could so easily mesmerize him.

He loved touching her skin, too, he thought as he allowed his fingers to slide down her throat to her shoulder. So warm and smooth and taut over her slender, toned body. The occasional splatter of golden freckles enchanted him. The scar that bisected her firm abdomen saddened him but made her no less attractive to him.

She opened her eyes and gazed up at him. Her expressions were becoming more readable to him, he thought optimistically. He thought he saw the lingering signs of pleasure there, physical satisfaction—and maybe a hint of the misgivings that were probably creeping back into her mind now that they had satisfied their desire for each other. Temporarily satisfied, he corrected himself, knowing he would soon want her again.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, her voice still a bit huskier than usual. “I could make you something.”

He almost told her that she was so damned cute, but he suspected that would get him punched—and she had access to a few too many vulnerable places at the moment. Instead, he teased lightly, “Always trying to feed me.”

She shrugged against the pillows, her own lips twitching. “That’s what I do.”

“You’re very good at it,” he assured her with mock solemnity. “You’re very good at everything you do,” he added, dropping a kiss on the end of her nose.

He was delighted when she giggled, the sound so rare he couldn’t help laughing in response.

/> “Why, thank you, sir. But you still haven’t answered me. Are you hungry?”

“Not really.” He was perfectly content to just lie there for a while, savoring the aftermath of the best sex he’d had in…well, ever. “Are you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then maybe we could just talk for a while.”

He saw the faintest hint of nerves cross her face in response to his suggestion. He wouldn’t have been able to detect that a couple weeks ago. He liked to think he was getting to know her better despite her reservations.

“We don’t have to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he assured her. “We can chat about the weather, if you want. I just enjoy being with you.”

She smiled. “We don’t have to chat about the weather. For one thing, that’s too boring in Arkansas in August. Hot and dry with a chance of afternoon thunderstorms. Pretty much sums it up.”

Chuckling, he nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. Gets kind of boring, huh?”

She didn’t respond, exactly, but asked, instead, “What will the weather be like in Peru?”