Flirting with the Society Doctor / When One Night Isn't Enough (11 page)

She’d have told him to take her, but he was kissing her again, so she told him with her mouth, her hands, her body, with every fiber of her being.

She lowered his zipper, sliding his pants down his thighs and marveling at his body, at his reaction to her every touch, marveling at her boldness with his body.

She freed him, encircling him with her hands, stroking over the silky smooth skin. He was big, hard, jutting out proudly toward her, magnificently male, but she wouldn’t have expected anything less. Not from Vale.

When his fingers pushed aside her lacy panties, rubbed across where her every single nerve ending culminated into one tiny nub, she cried out his name.

“You like that?” he asked, although surely he knew the answer as her body moved in rhythm to his touch, moved as if she were a puppet he controlled.

“Please,” she whimpered. Please don’t stop.

Sliding one finger then another inside her, he stroked until she could stand no more, until she was on the verge of shattering, until her legs turned to jelly. She was thankful he held her, otherwise she’d be a puddle of hot liquid on the floor.

“You’re so tight.”

“Vale, I need you inside me.” Please. Please. “Oh,
please,”
she pleaded against his neck, amazed by the warm waves washing through her, amazed that he was holding her, touching her, wanting her, amazed at the foreign sensations swamping her body. Her head dropped forward, resting in the crook of his neck as each cell in her body performed acrobatics, pulsating toward him in sweet, gratifying throbs of pleasure. “Vale!”

First donning a condom, he gave a satisfied growl, looped his hands beneath her bottom, lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, to press against where he’d created the most fabulous magic inside her. He backed her against the bedroom wall, using the sheetrock to help support her, to help keep her in position. She didn’t stop him. Not when the full length of him glided against her, testing her moist readiness. Not when the thick head of him pushed inside, making her breath catch in her throat, stretching her beyond belief.

“Vale!” she gasped at the same moment his eyes widened with horrified realization, at the same moment every muscle in his body tensed.

“Faith …” He sounded tortured, seemed to hate that his hips moved in automatic response to her tight pelvic muscles, even when he was hurting her. She could feel his restraint oozing from every pore of his body, could feel that he barely held on to his control as he gently stroked within
her. Yet hold on to his control he did in slow, methodical flexing of his hips that tormented as much as pleased her.

She didn’t want his control. She wanted him filling her, making her a woman, his woman. She wanted him thrusting against her, hard, wild, as out of control as her heart.

She squeezed him between her thighs, gyrating her pelvis, wanting him to re-create the magic his fingers had spread through her earlier, wanting him to forget his control, to forget everything except the coming together of their bodies in unfettered passion.

“Faith,” he groaned, sweat beading on his forehead. He stared into her eyes, his breaths coming hard. “You have to stop. I can’t—I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then love me,” she urged, opening her body to him, opening her heart to him. She gripped his shoulders, stared into his eyes, letting him see everything she felt for him, hugged him tightly with her inner thighs, drawing him as deeply into her body as she could. “Love me now because I need you, Vale. I need you so badly. Please.”

His pupils darkened, his eyes growing feral at her plea. His lips covered hers, smashing her mouth, thrusting his tongue into the deepest recesses as he lost the battle he’d been waging and slammed his body into hers with primal need beyond his control.

A battle Faith was glad he lost, because in him doing so she won.

Won the most glorious of colors bursting through her.

Won the hottest heat, the moistest heat, a heat that burned her the whole way through, scorching her skin, searing her insides.

Just when she thought she’d reached the pinnacle of sensation overload, she fell.

Into mindless oblivion.

Mindless orgasmic pleasure.

Further emotionally tangled with the man she clung to in hope of not floating off into another dimension.

Vale wondered whether anyone would notice if he failed to show back up at the reception. Because what he wanted was to carry Faith over to the bed and make love to her properly.

Not with her dress bunched at her waist, not with his pants sagging to his ankles. Not with him so out of control that he’d taken her like a savage beast when she’d been a virgin.

A virgin.

He’d just taken Faith’s
virginity.

She’d been right there with him, wanting him as much as he’d wanted her. But he felt a heel all the same. He’d known she was upset, that she’d been crying, that she was vulnerable. He shouldn’t have taken advantage of the situation. Not with Faith.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

The smile that had been on her lips faded and he felt an even bigger heel.

Her eyes became guarded and she twitched at his waist, reminding him of all the reasons they shouldn’t have done what they’d just done.

What had he done to her? To them? And how the hell was he going to fix it without losing the relationship he’d enjoyed with Faith before the wedding weekend?

“P
UT
me down.” Faith pushed against Vale’s chest, wanting to stand on her own two feet, wanting to pull her dress down, wanting to be able to think and knowing she couldn’t when their bodies were still joined.

Thank heavens he’d used a condom.

Not once had she thought of protection. Stupid and immature and something a teenager might do, but she truly hadn’t thought of anything except needing Vale.

So much for being a modern woman.

How much more stupid could she have been?

He stepped back, gently disconnecting their bodies and lowering her to the floor. He held her shoulders a moment until he was certain she was steady on her feet. “Dear God, Faith, why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”

His voice held a strangled mix of what sounded like anger and frustration.
Great.

She tugged her dress over her hips. “What does that matter?”

“It mattered.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve never done that before.”

Wasn’t that her line?
She glanced at him, grimaced at the regret on his handsome face. “What?”

“Been with a virgin.”

“Really?”

He nodded, wiping his hand over his face, before meeting her eyes. “Oh, yeah.”

Was it wrong that she liked being the only virgin he’d ever been with? His
first
first?

“I shouldn’t have taken your virginity, Faith. Not me. Not like this.”

“In case you didn’t notice, I wasn’t complaining.” As much as she’d like to let him shoulder the blame for what she’d likely later classify as a moment of insanity, she couldn’t. She’d wanted him, had begged him to make love to her.

“Faith, why were you still a virgin?”

She bit her lower lip and sat down on the end of the bed, all her happiness gone. This wasn’t the conversation a woman wanted following her first sexual experience.

She forced a smile, hoping to recapture the closeness she’d felt to him only minutes before. “Seriously, Vale, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Apparently it is.” He lifted her chin, stared straight into her eyes, and asked a question she didn’t want to answer. “Why haven’t you had sex with any of your past boyfriends?”

Past boyfriends? Yeah she’d had a few, but she’d never let any get close, never wanted to risk having her heart broken when they packed up and left, as they’d inevitably do.

With Vale she’d only acted on instinct, followed her heart. Which was cause for grave concern. “The timing was always wrong.”

“You’re almost thirty. You’re not going to convince me that ‘timing’ is why you were still a virgin.” His gaze pinned her, not allowing her to look anywhere but into his eyes. “Maybe you’d like to explain what your real reasons are.”

Actually, she wouldn’t like explaining her reasons at all.

Because then she’d have to admit to him something she hated to admit even to herself. Whereas her mother welcomed men into her life, believed their lies, Faith did the opposite. She’d pushed away the few who’d tried to get close.

Because she was beating them to the punch.

She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to take his probing blue gaze a moment longer.

“Faith?” His voice was gentle, his thumb stroking along her jaw in a tender caress. “Did someone hurt you?”

She kept her eyes closed. “Let it go, Vale.”

“Not until you tell me why a woman as beautiful as you opted not to have sex until me.”

He wasn’t going to drop this. She knew he wasn’t. This was Vale. He would keep at her until she told him.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes, glared at him. “Why would I want to have sex with someone who was just going to leave?”

His expression darkened, but his touch remained gentle. “You mean me?”

“I mean men period. All men leave.”

“Not all men,” he denied, his fingers soft against her cheek.

“Yes, all men.” She pulled away, walked across the room to stare out at the ocean. “My own father didn’t even stick around. Why would I expect any other man to stay when I wasn’t good enough for my own flesh and blood?”

“If your father left, it was because he wasn’t good enough for you, Faith. Not the other way around.”

Spinning to face him, she rolled her eyes. “Right.”

“I’m serious.”

“Fine, but you know it’s not even just me. It’s men and women in general. Men leave. It’s what they do best.”

His brows knotted together in a V. “How is it that I never knew you were so jaded about the opposite sex?”

“Being logical is not being jaded,” she pointed out, moving her head enough to free herself from his hold, but she stuck her ground. “I’m just realistic.”

“Right,” he mimicked her earlier sarcasm.

“Fine.” She shot him a challenging look. “Give me one example of a man who stuck around.”

He shrugged. “Easy. My father stuck around, Faith. Until the day he died he loved my mother, was faithful to her. They had a loving and happy relationship.”

“Oh? Why don’t I see you leaping down the path of love and happy relationships then?”

“That’s different.”

“How?” This time it was her eyes pinning him into place, his gaze averting. “You have a wonderful family, Vale, and you just said that your parents had a wonderful relationship. Why wouldn’t you want the same for yourself?”

His lips compressed into a tight line. “I’m not my parents.” “Meaning?”

“Meaning what they had was rare.”

She gave him a “duh” look. “My point exactly.”

“Point taken.” He grinned wryly. “But times are different from when my parents fell in love. Now women are more concerned with the Wakefield name, the fame and fortune, than they are with the man.”

“Shall I say it?” Her brow arched and she gave a snide
“Right".
Surely he didn’t believe it was money and notoriety that made women flock to him? No way. “I’ve seen how women chase you, cling to you, want to be with
you,” she reminded him. “Don’t fool yourself that it’s because of anything other than
you.”

“You might be surprised,” he said so sincerely that Faith blinked, took a step back.

“A woman used you for your name in the past? Someone you cared about?” Did she sound as shocked as she was?

“Let’s just say that some life lessons are learned the hard way and that’s a mistake I won’t be repeating.” He took a deep breath, glanced around his suite. “Let’s straighten up and go back down to the reception.”

His admission kept echoing through Faith’s mind while she cleaned up in his bathroom, making herself presentable. His words were still echoing through her mind when, hand in hand, they returned downstairs to the reception, which was in full swing and without their absence having been noticed.

Seeing so many happy wedding-goers seemed a slap in the face following the conversation she and Vale had just had.

They stepped into the giant reception tent. The bride and groom had been toasted, had cut the cake and were now sharing their first dance as man and wife. A few other couples had joined them on the parquet dance floor that had been set up beneath the tent.

A photographer immediately snapped a candid picture of Vale and Faith and then requested they pose, which they did. Faith glanced at Vale, wondering if he was upset at them having their photo taken together, but he seemed oblivious. Then again, he was used to having his photo taken.

She, on the other hand, wasn’t and felt highly self-conscious of her every move, of every camera flash. Could everyone tell what she and Vale had been doing?
Was it stamped across her forehead that she’d just lost her virginity?

Oh, my. She’d just had sex. With Vale. Amazing, glorious sex. With Vale. Vale. Vale. Vale, who some crazy woman had once used and obviously hurt.

She snuck another glance at him.

“Let’s dance,” he suggested, tugging her toward the dance floor and into his arms as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them. As if her mind wasn’t racing in a hundred different directions.

She didn’t argue, could barely find words to speak at all.

Her first sexual experience hadn’t exactly been a romantic coupling but, wow, she and Vale had lit fires.

Fires that still burned low in the pit of her stomach.

Relishing being back in his arms, she let him guide her onto the dance floor, memories assailing her. They’d danced before, at the office’s New Year’s party. That had been the first time Faith had been in his arms. She’d floated home that night, positive the year was going to be her best ever.

The second time had been after she’d helped perform her first DBS two-lead implantation as Vale’s second. He’d been so proud he’d popped a bottle of champagne that evening, poured her a glass, and he’d toasted her. Just he and she over a working dinner where they discussed the surgery and ways they could improve technique and efficiency.