The Blush Factor (The Hawthornes of New York 2) - Page 19

I do know.

I lived at home when I was enrolled in NYU. Unfortunately, no one was handing me pre-made meals. I was responsible for not only keeping my grade point average up but for prepping meals for my mom and siblings.

I nod. “Sadie’s a saint.”

“She is.” Her face lights up. “She thinks I’m going to make a great doctor one day.”

I add my voice to that chorus because I know potential when I see it. “She’s right.”

Faith bats her long eyelashes at me. “Thank you, Dr. Hawthorne.”

Ah, what I wouldn’t give to hear those words drift from her mouth in a breathy tone after I lapped at her cunt for hours.

I snap my gaze away from her because my cock is finally taking a break from its perpetual hardness whenever I’m within ten feet of her. I need it to stay that way until I slam my apartment door shut.

“Do you like what you do?”

I contemplate her question. If she’s asking if I like thinking non-stop about what she wrote in her diary, the answer is no, or maybe, hell yes, depending on whether I’m jacking off.

I assume she’s asking if I like taking care of animals, so I answer that honestly. “Very much so.”

“Did you always know you’d be a vet?”

I glance down the street toward the approaching traffic. “It always felt like the right fit for me.”

Silence greets me, so I turn my attention back to her. “What about you, Faith? Has being a doctor always been the dream?”

Her blue eyes flit over my face. “Always.”

Conviction swims in her expression. She’s certain of her path. That’s important when the journey is as long as the one she’s embarking on.

“Is that our ride?” One of her slender fingers wags in the air. “I think he’s pulling over.”

I check it out, noting the man behind the wheel. He matches the face in the profile picture on the app. “That’s our ride.”

“Thank you again for sharing it with me.”

She just opened a door that I can’t slam shut, so I smile. “Perhaps in exchange you can share one of the meals in this bag with me one night.”

Her eyes lock on mine as her tender lips part. “Okay.”

It’s not the rousing yes, please, or I can’t wait that I was hoping for, but it’s something. It’s something that is far out of the limits of what’s appropriate given her age and my cock’s preoccupation with her, but I’m a man with a strong will.

Surely, I can sit through a meal with her. I tell myself that as I open the rear passenger door of the car and watch that sweet ass of hers as she climbs into the back seat.

I hand the bag off to her outside of her apartment door. My door as well since they face each other.

That’s a fact that hasn’t been lost on me since I read her diary.

Each time I’ve gotten into my bed at night, I’ve thought about Faith tucked into hers across the hall from me.

I imagine she sleeps in silk panties and nothing more, or perhaps she’s one of those women who prefer a long T-shirt.

Regardless, it matters little since I fall asleep every night with my cock in my hand while I’m thinking about that diary and those entries.

My gaze trails to her lips as she skims her tongue over the bottom one.

It would take little effort for me to lean forward and draw it between my teeth while my hands find her ass.

I’d yank her panties aside and dive two fingers into her.

“You said you liked the salmon at Axel.” Her chest heaves as she draws in a deep breath. “Is that what you and your date had for dinner tonight?”

Did Miss Upton just depart on a fishing trip? Her curiosity about whether I dined alone is enough to rouse my cock, but not enough for me to hightail it into my apartment.

I button my suit jacket closed to hide my growing erection.

Her gaze drops to the front of my pants but trails back up to my face before she gets a glimpse of anything that would make her blush harder than a one out of five on her blush factor scale.

“I didn’t have the salmon,” I say succinctly, casting my own net to see whether I can catch her asking another question.

She swims right into my clutches. “Did your date?”

I bite back a smile. “My sister had a big juicy steak.”

Immediate relief flashes over her expression. “You had dinner with your sister tonight?”

Nodding with a perverse and misplaced sense of satisfaction, I answer in a low tone. “I did.”

“That’s nice.” She shrugs her shoulder as if she cares little about that detail. “Goodnight.”

I watch as she unlocks her apartment door with a brief glance back at me before the door shuts behind her.

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Hawthornes of New York Romance
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