The Doctor (Nashville Neighborhood 1)

Dr. Lowe’s face was heartbreaking, and the gravel in his voice matched. “No, not at all. I’m going to miss you too.”

As I swallowed the lump in my throat, he moved toward me, his arms spread open for a hug. I stepped into it eagerly and let him crush me against his chest. If he didn’t care my swimsuit was wet, I didn’t either.

He was warm and solid.

His arms wrapped tighter, holding me, and it brought on a fresh threat of tears. I didn’t want things to change. I didn’t want this part to be over.

My cheek was pressed to his chest, and I could hear the hurried beat of his heart inside. I closed my eyes, squeezing back the tears as his hand smoothed down the hair on the back of my head. How long would he let me stay like this?

His warm palm was on the small of my back, and once again, the contact of it against my skin left me breathless. He moved, shifting the position subtly, as if settling me into his embrace, and unexpected pleasure jolted through me. It was instantly followed by a wave of shame. He was only offering advice and comfort. This was the most inappropriate time to get turned on.

Yet I grew heavier each moment I was in his arms, wanting to get closer to him. He smelled like wood and leather, and the scent was enticing. His muscles under my hands flexed and tensed, like whatever this strange thing happening between us was, he could sense it too.

The hand in my hair moved, and he cupped the side of my face, drawing me back enough so he could peer down into my eyes. The way he gazed at me, it sucked the last of the air from my body. Made every nerve ending tingle.

His look was intense. Wild. It announced he was considering doing something very, very bad.

We stood as two people on a crumbling cliff, afraid to move or the ground would give way beneath and make us fall. Only our shoulders lifted with our hurried, uneven breaths. His palm seared against my cheek, and my eyes hooded.

When his gaze slid down to my parted lips, I knew we were doomed, and the worst part was I didn’t care. I wanted it to happen. I tilted my chin up to meet him as he lowered his mouth to mine.

FOUR

WARNING SIRENS BLARED IN MY MIND, but it was useless. His gentle, hesitant kiss roared loudly through my body, drumming back any other sound. His soft lips moved against mine, cautious and testing, and I answered back. Even more, I encouraged. I opened my mouth to welcome his seeking tongue.

He drew in a sharp breath through his nose as our reckless kiss deepened, but it didn’t stop his exploration of my mouth. Behind my back, his palm urged me into him, and his grip on my face firmed. His lush tongue dipped past my lips, slid against mine, causing goosebumps to burst down my legs.

I couldn’t think, breathe, or even move as he kissed me, because I worried I’d break the spell.

Dr. Lowe used the hand cupping my face to tilt me further up, enough to break the contact of our lips, but his mouth was still on my skin. It moved hurriedly over my cheekbone, streaming down the side of my neck.

I shivered.

My skimpy swimsuit was still wet, and the air conditioning was blowing on us from a vent overhead, but the tremble that shook my shoulders had nothing to do with that. It wasn’t the cause of my hardened nipples jutting out beneath the triangles of my bikini top either.

Dr. Lowe was.

I nearly lost my balance as he moved in, walking me backward toward the wall. He drew the hand away from my back and threw his palm flat against the wall by my head.

His haggard breathing filled my ear. “What the hell am I doing?”

Was he thinking out loud? Because he didn’t stop. His damp lips skimmed over my neck and closed on a spot where it met my body, giving me another wave of shudders. When he sucked lightly, a sharp bolt of electricity shot straight between my legs. I had my arms wrapped around his waist, and I clenched his t-shirt in my hands.

I wasn’t supposed to like it, but it felt so damn good.

I leaned my head into his hand, giving him more room on the other side to kiss my neck, and I closed my eyes.

“You mean, what the hell are we doing?” I murmured, because I was just as much a part of this as he was.

When I threaded my fingers through his thick hair, the thought pounded in my mind. Is this cheating? No, it couldn’t be. I had ended it with Preston. We needed more closure, but I had ended it.