Career Girl in the Country / The Doctor's Reason to Stay (8 page)

He started whacking them hard with a rolling pin, enjoying the sensation of doing something normal and everyday. He rummaged through the drawer where Lisa had kept the spices and found cocoa and coconut and added them before opening the fridge for butter and eggs.

A cold, empty space greeted him.

Fresh ingredients? Who are you kidding?

Damn it, he hadn’t shopped.
You never shop.
Had he lived in a city, he could have grabbed his keys and hit the supermarket at 10:00 p.m., but he didn’t. He slammed the door closed, frustration licking along his veins. For the first time in for ever he’d actually wanted to make something and now he was stymied.

He turned slowly, looking out across the deck, and saw the lights next door were still on.
Poppy.
She’d have butter and eggs and, unlike all his created excuses to visit her, the ones he’d talked himself out of, this one was real. After all, Jen worked really hard and she deserved a birthday morning tea.

Oh, yeah, it’s all about Jen’s morning tea.

He ignored his sarcastic self. This visit was all about eggs and butter. He strode out of the house, across the garden and straight to Poppy’s door, where he pressed the doorbell.

Waiting impatiently, he paced on the small porch. He pressed the bell again, this time holding his finger in place.

‘Hang on, I’m coming.’

Poppy’s voice sounded deep inside the house, followed by running feet slapping the bare floorboards. A moment later the door opened and Matt swallowed.

Hard.

She stood in front of him, her long, black hair cascading over her shoulders like a silk shawl. His eyes followed the line of her hair, across shoulders almost bare except for the slash of the pink spaghetti straps of her camisole top. His gaze skimmed across her round breasts and down to the edge of the top. Here an expanse of tanned belly with the gentle swell of healthy roundedness was met by the band of a skimpy pair of royal-blue pyjama shorts, which clung low on her hips and high on her thighs. And then her legs; her long, long legs stretched on for ever.

He lost the power of speech.

‘Matt?’ Her blue eyes spun with confusion and concern.

Eggs and butter, remember?
‘I need …’ The words sounded way too husky. He cleared his throat. ‘I need an egg and some butter.’

Her eyes widened and filled with surprise. ‘You’d better come in, then.’ She turned and walked towards her kitchen, the fabric of her pyjama shorts outlining the sweet curve of her behind.

Heat slammed through him, making him hard, and somehow, with superhuman effort, he managed to keep walking.
Talk about normal stuff.
‘It’s to make something for Jen’s birthday morning tea.’

‘Oh.’ She snagged her bottom lip with her teeth and disappointment sounded clear in her voice. ‘I didn’t know or I would have made something too.’

He stifled a groan. ‘Seeing as you’re donating the butter and egg, I’ll say the hedgehog came from you.’

‘You don’t have to do that.’ She opened the fridge, handing him an egg from the container in the door.

The egg felt thankfully cold in his hot and itchy palm. ‘Sure I can. It’s not like anyone’s going to believe I cooked it.’

She laughed—a deep and throaty sound. ‘Yes, but will I want to put my name to it?’ She bent over, reaching for the butter, her pants riding up and exposing a glorious expanse of skin.

Heat fired through him, replacing air with all-encompassing need. He dropped the egg.

‘Damn it.’ He grabbed for a cloth and kneeled down at the same moment Poppy did, her hands filled with paper towel. Their foreheads banged.

‘Ouch.’ She laughed, her eyes sparkling with life.

Life.
She was here, warm, real and, oh, so sexy. For months he hadn’t wanted sex but every time he saw her he wanted her. Wanted her badly, and right now he couldn’t think of anything else but sex.

Sex with Poppy.

He waited for the gut-wrenching guilt that had pulled him back every time but it didn’t come and he didn’t understand why but he wasn’t going to question it. Poppy was nothing like Lisa and perhaps that was why it didn’t feel like a betrayal. All he knew was that
his hands burned to cup her bottom and her breasts, his mouth ached to trail kisses along her neck and across her glorious bare skin and he wanted to lose himself in her hair and breathe in her scent of being alive.

He slid his palm along her cheek, tilted her head and kissed her.

Poppy felt his hot lips on hers, felt her body melting, but the protective part of her brain screamed,
Stop!
Somehow she managed to grip his shoulders and pull back. ‘Wh-what are you doing?’

Unfocused eyes, loaded with the haze of lust, stared at her. ‘Kissing you.’

The words came out thick and hoarse, sending tingling need strumming through her and sucking at the edges of her control. ‘What about the hedgehog?’

‘I’ll buy a chocolate cake.’

She wanted to smile but instead she rose slowly, dignity demanding she speak. ‘You’ve kissed me twice before and pulled back.’

His face tensed and a sad smile curved his mouth. ‘I promise you, I’m not going to stop this time. I want to keep kissing you until neither of us can stand.’

She bit her lip as she saw the turmoil of the lust of now and the pain of the past in his eyes, and felt her own hurt. ‘I’m not Lisa.’

His hand played in her hair and he spoke softly. ‘This has
nothing
to do with Lisa.’

She didn’t know if she should believe him or not. ‘Then what is it to do with?’

‘Us. This living, breathing “thing” that swirls constantly between us every time we’re together, and even when we’re not.’ His eyes almost pleaded. ‘You know what I’m talking about.’

She nodded silently. God help her, she did.

‘So we need to have sex to defuse it and bring this “thing” back under control or we’re both going to go insane over the next few weeks.’ He pressed his mouth to the hollow of her neck.

Stars spun in her head and she clung to rational thought by a thread. ‘Sex to defuse it?’

‘Exactly.’

She could hardly think straight to follow his so-called logic. She had her own issues to face and she sucked in a deep breath. ‘The thing is, I’m not very good at sex.’

‘I don’t believe that for one minute.’ His mouth pressed nipping kisses along her jaw. ‘I plan to show you just how good you really are.’

She swallowed hard, trying to stay strong against the delicious rafts of pleasure pouring through her, but she could feel herself slipping under the waves of desire and drowning in their headiness.

His finger tilted her chin so she looked directly at him. ‘Sex for the sake of sex. No promises, no regrets, no future and no past, and absolutely no apologies.’ His hands gripped her shoulders. ‘Are you in?’

Just sex. Nothing more, nothing less.

Why not?
It wasn’t like she believed in ‘happy ever after’, and she knew she sucked at relationships and was never going down that torrid path again. She filled her life with work but right now her career hung in the balance, she was a hell of a long way from home and her body constantly hummed for this man. He wanted her body, which was more than any man ever had. Really, what did she have to lose?

Everything and nothing.

She circled his neck with her arms and sank into him with a moan that came all the way from her toes—the
bliss of giving in to the longing that had consumed her for days and days. His mouth invaded hers: furnace-hot and with unleashed, potent desire that pulsated through her. She lost herself in his mouth, filling herself with his taste of mint and anticipation, exploring with teeth and tongue. With each foray he met her with one of his own, deepening the kiss, urging her to do the same until all thoughts vanished, the past imploded and nothing existed except his mouth and this kiss.

This time there was no holding back. This time Matt’s hand sought her breast, slipping easily under her top, and while his thumb abraded her aching nipple his tongue sabotaged her mouth with bliss. The star-filled night sky had nothing on her body and mind as she lit up, every part of her igniting and burning for his touch. Gasping for breath, she pulled her mouth from his.

He groaned and could barely speak. ‘Are you … changing … your mind?’

Her body screamed in protest that everything might come to an abrupt stop right now. ‘God, no, but what about protection?’

Matt ran his hand through his hair as an expletive hit the air. Then he kissed her hard and fast and came up laughing. ‘Every hospital house has a medical kit.

Where is it?’

Her brain spun with bliss and she fought to think. ‘I put it in the bathroom.’ He grabbed her hand and tugged her down the hall. ‘Matt, it won’t have condoms.’

He grinned. ‘We’re in the middle of nowhere and we have everything.’ He flicked the latch and lifted the top tray.

Dipping her hand in, she pulled out a sheet of distinctive square foil wrappers. ‘Plenty.’ ‘Speak for yourself.’

His eyes darkened, sending shivers of anticipation scudding through her. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head, and her eyes feasted on a broad chest, slick with the sheen of the sweat of desire. Desire for her. She could hardly believe it as she reached out her hand, pressing it against hard muscle, feeling his heart thundering against it. ‘You’re magnificent.’

‘So are you.’ With a flick of his fingers the three silk-covered buttons of her top opened and he slid the material down her arms to the floor. ‘That’s so much better.’

His mouth closed over her breast and she cried out with sheer amazement as sensations cascaded over her. Sensations she didn’t ever want to stop and she sagged against him as pleasure stole the strength from her legs.

He raised his head from her breast and trailed tantalising kisses back along her breastbone to the hollow in her neck. ‘Time to move this to the bedroom. I want room to move and room to see you.’ He linked his fingers through hers as he scorched her mouth with another kiss.

She sagged against him. ‘I won’t make the bed if you keep doing that.’

He tore his mouth away and grinned. ‘Can’t have that.’

He pulled her down the hall, stopping twice to kiss her. The second time she pressed her back against the wall, her body melting into a puddle of paradise as she clung to him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

He met her moan of need with one of his own and then staggered into the bedroom, carrying her. She fell backwards onto the bed, pulling him with her, never wanting to let him go, needing to feel his hands and
mouth on her. She’d never known such rising pleasure, pleasure that tingled and taunted at the same time, and she wanted more of it.

He pulled back to unbuckle his belt and shuck his pants and she whimpered.

A moment or two later, condom in place, he leaned over her, his eyes as dark as rich chocolate, and slowly scanned her body, from her now burning cheeks across her aching pink-tipped breasts and down to her damp panties. He trailed a finger along the lace band before stroking downwards, inexorably slowly.

Her hips bucked as she throbbed with desperate emptiness and delicious promise, both of which were driving her insane. Her fingers gripped his wrist, trying to control his movements, trying to hurry him up before she spun out from unmet need.

‘You’re so amazingly hot.’ His velvet-deep voice floated over her hot, flushed skin and then his mouth took hers for a moment before he slipped his finger under the lace and onto the one place that made her call out his name.

With delicious but maddening touches, he wove a path in ever-diminishing circles until she was beyond coherent thought and begging him. ‘Now. Please, now.’

But he didn’t do what she asked and instead slipped his finger inside her. She immediately tightened around him as her head thrashed against the pillow, and the tingling zeroed into one intense ball. She tried to pull him down, urge him inside her before she ruined everything, but the ball was soaring through her, sucking her with it, and she let go; let herself be carried into the whirling maelstrom until she was flung out in an explosion of wickedly wondrous and deliciously sweet convulsions that rained through her.

When the last wave ebbed away, leaving her limbs feeling like they were filled with molasses, she gazed up at him, not able to believe her body could do that. She almost sobbed. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve never, that is, I mean …’ But words couldn’t explain it. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t apologise or thank me.’ His voice sounded rough and hoarse and he nuzzled her neck, his five o’clock shadow scraping gently on her skin. ‘Watching you was almost as good as being there with you.’

She stared at him, studying him hard, trying to find the buried message that she’d done the wrong thing by climaxing before he’d entered her, but all she could see was heat and excitement. Heat for her.
You’re so amazingly hot.
Was she? Really?

His tongue found her ear and her post-orgasm bone-lessness instantly vanished. Flames licked at her again, building heat, building need, and this time she ached so much it hurt. She wanted to give to him what he’d given to her and she pushed at his shoulders, rolling him onto his back. ‘Just lie there, I’ve got something for you.’

His hands gripped her arms. ‘Don’t even think about using your hands.’

She laughed and straddled him, her hair making a curtain around their heads. ‘I wouldn’t dream of wasting this.’

He grinned. ‘And you thought you weren’t good at this.’

She laughed as exhilaration poured through her and she eased herself over him, marvelling at his beauty. Then she closed her eyes and took all of him, almost crying with relief as he filled her. Moving in a rhythm as old as time, she opened her eyes and saw the combination of wonder and pain etched on his face.

She felt the jab right through to her solar plexus—he was thinking of his wife.
Just sex, no regrets.
She didn’t want him to go to that dark place of grief so she kissed him with all she had and then threw her head back, gripping him hard. With more bravado than she felt, she hooked his gaze. ‘I’m amazing, remember. Don’t let me down now, Matt, or you’ll put me in therapy for years.’