New York City Docs. Tina BeckettЧитать онлайн книгу.
scared him as much as it had those around him. Which meant it wasn’t something that happened every day. So, yes, it was better to make sure nothing had changed or that there wasn’t something else insidious going on inside her friend’s body.
“You two might as well go home.” Marcos crossed his strong arms over his chest. “I’ll probably get the worst night’s sleep known to man, but I would rather do it in private than have someone hover over me for the next eight hours.”
“Are you sure?”
“I will call if I need something.”
Tessa managed a smile. “Hope you don’t mind if I don’t believe you.”
She reached into her purse—realizing for the first time that Clay must have retrieved it from their table at The Pied Piper, as she’d forgotten all about it until they were in the cab. But there it had been. She found a business card and wrote her cell phone number on the back of it, handing it to Dr. Simon. “Will you have someone call me if something changes?”
He glanced from her to Clay, probably wondering what they were doing out and about together. Those damned jars. She vaguely remembered seeing a pair of them in the ER, as well.
Perfect.
“I’ll give you a call,” he assured her.
Clay shook the other doctor’s hand while she leaned down to kiss Marcos’s cheek.
“You get some rest,” she said. “We have a lot more practicing to do over the next couple of weeks, and we need you strong and rested.”
He grumbled about them needing a lot more than a couple weeks, but since that was all they had…
They left, and Tessa wasn’t sure what to do. Did she hang around in the waiting room to see if there was any news? Or did she go home?
Now that the scare was over, she was wide-awake. There was no way she’d get any sleep tonight.
A vision of herself wrapped in Clay’s strong arms shimmied through her head, bringing with it the knowledge that she’d never had insomnia when they’d spent the nights together. Instead, she’d slept like a baby.
Clay, as if reading her thoughts, said, “You can’t do anything by waiting around, Tess. Randy said he’d call if something changed.” He glanced at his watch. “Besides, it’s almost eleven.”
Too late to do anything besides sleep? Yes, he was probably hinting that his better sense had put in an appearance after all and that he wanted to go home. Alone.
The least she could do was be graceful about it if that was the case, although now that Marcos’s doctor had her cell phone number she would love nothing more than to go to sleep with Clay next to her. But she wouldn’t.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
They stepped through the emergency room doors into the balmy night air. “That depends on how long you plan on staying over.”
“Staying over?” Said as if her heart had not just leaped in her chest at the idea that he might not be saying good-night quite yet after all.
His eyes narrowed. “Nothing’s changed, Tessa. And if I know you, you won’t get any sleep.” He wrapped his hand around her nape. “I still want you to come home with me. Will you?”
He was asking. Not demanding. Not assuming, as he might have when they’d been together before.
Relief washed through her. “Yes. If you’re sure.”
“Honey, I’d like nothing better than to be pinned down by you in circumstances other than standing in a roomful of men watching our every move.”
Capoeira.
She grinned, her eyes holding his as her fears over Marcos began to fade. “You just don’t like to lose in front of a bunch of people.”
“I don’t like to lose at all. But what I have in mind has two winners and zero losers. And no one around to see the outcome except for us.”
He drew her a little closer and then bent down to give her a light kiss.
Unfortunately, he didn’t move to deepen the contact, and considering they were standing outside the hospital, that was a good thing. For both of them.
He didn’t release his hold on her, however. So his next words were whispered inches away from her lips, giving them an intimacy she was dying to explore.
“My place. My bed.” The promise from a week ago flowed over her skin, making her shiver.
“Your car?” She didn’t have a vehicle at the moment, preferring to zip around the huge city on public transport or her own two feet.
“I think we can make it to the apartment.”
Only after he’d said it did she realize he’d taken her question about how they were going to get to his place and expanded it to include whether or not they would even make it that far. Or whether they’d have to park his car and consummate things inside. As they’d done before.
An ambulance pulled into the circular drive in a blare of sirens and Clay finally lifted his head and backed up a pace. But he didn’t leave her totally without contact. Reaching down, he grabbed her hand, tugging her to his side. “Ready?”
She made a sound of affirmation that found her being towed behind him, his long steps requiring two of hers for every one of his. She didn’t care. All she knew was that she was going to feel him around her in a way that she hadn’t in four long years.
And she couldn’t wait.
Maybe they wouldn’t make it back to his apartment after all.
She managed to climb into his car with shaky legs and settle into place. She even managed to keep her hands to herself, although she couldn’t say the same of Clay. Because once they got out of the parking lot and onto the street, they were immediately caught up in a snarl of traffic that slowed to a crawl.
“Damn,” he muttered.
Double damn, she echoed in her head. Balling her hands together in her lap, she tried not to squirm on the leather upholstery beneath her thighs. Or dwell on the warm ache between those very same thighs.
Clay let go of the gearshift and dropped his palm onto her left leg, just above her knee. “This wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but…”
Her breath caught in her throat when his thumb brushed over the loose, gauzy fabric of her long skirt. The ache grew a little stronger.
The car in front of them crept forward a couple of inches, and Clay followed it, the slow pace evidently not requiring him to shift, since his hand stayed right where it was. In fact, his fingers ran in little waves of motion along her inner thigh in a way that caused the hem of her skirt to rise almost to her knee, where he caught it with his index finger and lifted it higher.
“Clay?” His name came out a bit strangled.
“Shh…” This time when his fingertips came back in contact with her it was against bare skin. “Who knows how long this ride is going to last? Just keeping you interested.”
Interested? She didn’t need him to do anything to hold her enthralled. And the only ride she wanted right now was one where she was straddling his hips and moaning.
His windows were darkly tinted, and between the streetlights and headlights she doubted anyone could see inside the vehicle. Still, when his hand changed legs and bunched the fabric up until it was halfway between her knees and her hips, her stomach tightened in anticipation, along with everything else.
He dragged his palm with painful slowness up her skin, raising goose bumps in its wake, his eyes never leaving the road. And yet, even without glancing at her once, he seemed to know the havoc he was wreaking on her mind… and her body.
Traffic moved forward