Dr. Good - A Man Who Knows What He Wants

I glance at the driver’s partition, glad I paid extra for a sound-proofed car. This is the type celebrities use when they don’t want their drivers leaking details about what goes on back here.

Not that I’m going to maul her, even if everything in me is roaring out to claim her right here, to push those gorgeous thighs apart and drive deep inside of her.

I’m going to treat her like the lady she is before I truly make her mine.

“But inside, too,” I go on, pushing past my whirring lust. “You came to me willing to raise a child, to devote yourself to a life, without the help of anyone else.”

“I’ve always wanted to be a mother,” she murmurs.

“And you will be,” I say passionately. “But now we’ll be in it together.”

She squeezes my hand, pressing it against her thigh, biting her lip in that tempting just-Macie way.

“What about you?” she asks. “Did you always want to be a dad?”

I laugh gruffly, shaking my head. “Mom told you about how my dad died when I was a kid, right?”

She nods.

“After that, I think something changed in me. You could even say something broke in me. I didn’t think I’d ever want a family, because I was so damn scared of my kids going through what I did. I was close with my old man. We did everything together. And then maybe…”

“What?” she urges when I trail off.

“Maybe I chose my profession so I could help other people reach the happiness I’d convinced myself wasn’t for me. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” she says, with heavy emotion in her voice.

“But now all of that has been shattered into a million pieces. And I’m not interested in putting them back together. The second I saw you, I felt like a fool for waiting so long… but then I had to wait so long or I wouldn’t have found you. It had to be you, Macie. You’re the only woman I’ve ever…”

Loved, I almost say, but I manage to bite it back at the last second.

I can’t afford to push too much too fast, just in case I freak her out again.

“Felt this way about,” I finish.

“I’ve never felt this before either,” she whispers. “I guess I’d accepted I was going to be a single mother. I was even looking forward to it. But the moment I saw you, everything changed. I started daydreaming about having a family together right away. It wasn’t the same as…”

The tell-tell shyness touches her features, and a tremor moves through her thigh.

“What?” I growl. “Go on, Macie. You never have to be ashamed with me.”

She turns her gaze even further away from me, as though she can’t stand to make this admission with me staring at her. I can’t help but smirk at the sight of her shyness, reveling in the way her cheeks bloom an even deeper shade of red with each moment, as though her womb is sending me sex-red signals through her skin.

“It really doesn’t matter.”

I take my hand from her thigh and touch her face, guiding her face so we’re staring at each other, smirking into her shyness.

“It really, really does,” I say.

“Why?”

I chuckle. “Because it’s making you look so damn cute. I think you’ve got a secret, Macie. And since we’re going to be together for the rest of our lives, I’d like to know it.”

“I… before we met… I…”

She throws her hands up.

“I can’t, Miller. It’s too embarrassing.”

“Oh, I see.” I lean in close to her and kiss the edge of my mouth. “Are you trying to tell me what I think you are?”

“That depends. Does what you’re thinking rhyme with sasturbation?”

I laugh and nod. “Yep. That’s it exactly.”

She’s blushing like her face is going to set on fire now, like any second she’s going to erupt into embarrassed flames and take the whole limo with her, and I delight in the shyness flittering across her full gorgeous cheeks.

“So let me get this straight,” I go on, a bantering note in my voice. “You—what? You went online and found some photos of me, and then just went to town?”

She folds her arms, aiming that beautiful mock-pout at me, or maybe it’s a real pout this time. But her eyes are filled with the same playfulness that moves through me, the sort of playfulness I never expected to feel with a woman, with anyone, ever.

“Yes, Miller,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But please don’t make me feel any more awkward about it. Not that I think that’s even possible.”

I smooth a wayward strand of hair from her face, leaning down and kissing her cheek, and then moving closer to her mouth with each kiss. I claim her lips and our tongues go to war, clashing with sizzling intensity, my body stirring as a reverberation of need moves through me.