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Doctor Feelgood: (A Bad Boy Doctor Novel) by Weston Parker (90)

Chapter 15

Erik

 

 

What was I doing? I couldn't let Grace into my world, and yet I'd offered her just that.

She loved me. She said it herself. How the hell could I deny her after she professed her love for me? We barely knew each other and yet she was willing to put herself on the line like that?

A woman that dressed like she belonged in a retirement facility because she didn't want the wrong attention? I only had so much push inside of me. I was lonely and completely in love with her too. Years of going to the library and watching her from a distance left me no choice. She would become the softer side of me, and I would be forced to protect her with my life.

My father.

"Fuck," I mumbled and held her hand tightly as we walked around the library toward the bike.

"What's wrong?" Her voice filled with uncertainty.

"Nothing, kitten." I got on the bike and handed her a helmet. "We'll figure it out. Let's just get outta here for the afternoon and work through a few things."

"Okay," she mumbled softly and got on the back of the bike.

She wasn't tough or street smart in the least. It's like I'd gone inside of a goddamn book and snatched a princess-type out to be my girl. She couldn't defend herself or protect our kids or... Don't go there.

My mother's funeral played before my eyes, leaving my heart racing and a thick ball of regret sitting in the back of my throat as I drove us to New Jersey. My father had found himself a princess too, a sweet, beautiful, caring woman who wouldn't harm anything or anyone, and look where it got them. Mom was dead, and my father was a black shell of a man, ready to kill and maim someone before seeking out the truth in the situation.

It's where I would be if I let Grace burrow any farther in my heart and something happened to her. I would burn down the whole fucking city in retribution.

She ran her hands up my chest and pressed herself against my back as I pressed the gas and shot off down a back road with the wind in my hair and the sun beating down on my arms. I was shaking as my thoughts got darker and darker. She must have noticed.

We pulled up to a little hamburger shack outside of the city, and I turned the bike off and offered her my hand. She got off and handed me the helmet back.

"I'll get lunch. What do you want?" She moved up beside me, and I wrapped my arm around her waist.

"Whatever you want." I pulled my card out and gave it to her. "You're not buying shit. Use this. Keep it."

"What? No." She handed it back and walked toward the shack as I closed my eyes and tilted my head to the sky.

What was I doing? No... what the fuck was Cole doing? Anger burned through me at the thought of the cop talking to my girl in private. Cole knew Grace was mine. He made that shit pretty clear in front of the library. I would spend the day with Grace and then... Cole and I were having a long ass talk. One that hopefully ended with a handshake instead of his big ugly ass splattered all over the concrete.

"I got us some fries to share." She walked toward me, her pink tank top fitting her tightly and her long silky hair dancing in the wind.

I chuckled as my eyes moved down to her pants. "Grace. What are these tights you're wearing, baby?"

"You don't like them?" She pretended to pout and got on the back of the bike.

"I love them. They keep everyone with a breath in their chest and a cock in their jeans away. You look like a serial killer with those on." I started the bike, enjoying the way she leaned against me, molding her softness against the hard muscles of my back.

"Then I fit in perfectly."

We drove for another thirty minutes and pulled off into a large national forest that had park benches. I parked the bike and grabbed her hand as we walked down through the massive trees that sat all around us.

"I used to come here all the time as a kid." I glanced over at her, and she smiled back. She was so fucking beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. How long would she stay? Who would come after her? Fear and anxiety tightened my chest, and I cursed myself. This was why I didn't want to take things beyond a good hard fuck from time to time.

"I've never been here." She pulled her hand from mine and walked to the nearest park bench, working to get everything laid out for us.

I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through her hair, strip her down and make love to her on the table top, but now wasn't the time. I'd forced myself on her too many times lately as a way of just being close to her. "How long have you been working at the library?"

She sat down and picked up her burger, smiling softly at me. "Since freshman year. I was part time during college, but after graduating, I got hired on as one of the supervisors." She shrugged. "It's not for everyone, but I love it. Stories got me through a lot of hard times as a girl."

I reached out and brushed my fingers down the side of her arm, wanting to be a preppy jock type for her, but I couldn't. I was a killer and had always been. It was the way I was raised.

"Hard times like what?" I lifted my eyebrow.

"Why does that look scare me? Makes me think you might go after anyone who hurt me in the past."

"’Cause I might." I reached out and took my burger, opening it and taking a deep bite of it. When was the last time I shared a meal with a woman? My mother. My sister.

"My mom's always been hard on me, but she had Thomas at sixteen. She was just trying to protect me by making me dress like this and reminding me that I wasn't pretty enough to strip in front of a man." She shrugged, and my stomach grew sick.

"What? Your mother made you feel like you weren't enough?" I licked my lips. "Kitten, you're the most beautiful woman in all of New York. Your mom's a pretty fucked up broad."

"Agreed on the mom part." She reached for a fry, running it along her burger and bending it to fit in her mouth. Something about her movements turned me on. "It's okay though. I wouldn't have wanted to share myself with anyone but you."

"Grace." I reached over and brushed my fingers down the side of her neck as I leaned halfway over the table and kissed her a few times. "You know I'm not the right guy for you."

"Tell me exactly why you think that." She picked up a fry and extended her hand toward me, offering it to me.

I gripped her wrist tightly and took the fry in my mouth before brushing the back of her fingers over my scruffy beard. "I'm a murderer. I kill people for a living."

"What if we just didn't talk about that part?" She cupped my face and love filled her eyes again. "What if you kept that part of your life to yourself, like the hidden parts of a good book? We could just be together and take care of each other and maybe even eventually love each other." She glanced down at her food as embarrassment moved across her face. She was opening herself up to rejection.

I didn't have it in me to kick her back again, so I ignored it instead.

"It's not that easy. I'm a hitman, and my father's the head of our syndicate. I've lived my life for him since I stepped out of the womb. That's not going to change anytime soon." I took another bite of my burger and watched her as my body hardened.

"And he wouldn't accept us being together?" The innocence in her voice left me hungry to ravage her. I was a beast, a tainted asshole with no respect for purity. Hate raced through me.

"I don't know." I reached for the fries, eating half the container as she nibbled at her burger. "Let's stop talking about it though." I licked my fingers one at a time as her eyes widened and the vein on the side of her sexy throat began to beat faster.

"Tell me about you and Nate. You're good friends, right?"

"We grew up together. I've always been in trouble because of my family and our line of work, and for a while, Nate helped me out. We got into a few fucked up situations as teenage boys where we were forced to take a bullet for each other." I laughed at the memories as they flooded my mind. "He was like a brother to me. He stood beside me when we buried my mother and helped me search for weeks for my little sister. He wouldn't leave my side."

"Oh no. That's horrible." She got up and moved to my side of the table, sliding into my lap and wrapping her arms around my neck. "Did you find your sister?"

"Yeah. Dead and dropped in a lake." I slid my fingers into her hair and pulled her down, licking and kissing at her perfect mouth. Everything about her had me wishing I was a different man.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered against my lips before kissing me a few more times. "Did you find out who did it?"

"No, but I will. Eventually." I ran my hand down her back and cupped her ass, patting her pussy from beneath as I deepened our next kiss and had my way with her. I'd never kissed a woman the way I wanted to kiss her. It felt too much like a seal over our relationship, as if I were agreeing to making love instead of fucking, to love instead of lust.

Hell, maybe I was.

"Spend the night with me?" She cupped my face softly, brushing her thumbs over my cheek as I continued to pet her.

"At your place?" I lifted up and tucked my face against her neck, kissing my way down to the tops of her breasts and licking each of them until she forced me to look back up at her.

"Yes. Make love to me tonight. Please?" The need in her face broke me in two. How much more would this fucking woman require of me? I'd destroyed all of my boundaries and broken all of my rules for her, and she still pushed. I'd treated her like a toy, fucked with her head and violated her innocence for my pleasure, and here she sat... on my lap, loving me, touching me, wanting me.

"I can't, Grace. Not yet." I gripped the back of her head and brought her down for a long kiss. "Get up on the table, and I'll spend the next hour eating you out. Let me make you come a few times, hmmm, kitten?"

"No. I want you with me tonight. Please?" She rolled her hips, massaging me. "We can take a bath together and take our time. Just one night."

"Agghh," I growled loudly and wrapped my arms around her. "Fine. One fucking night. Needy bitch."

"Most sluts are." She ran her fingers up the back of my head as she leaned in and pressed her tongue deep into my mouth, the world disappearing as pleasure built up in the center of my chest.

She was going to be the death of me, and that was perfectly fine.

As long as I was the one who died.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out. My father. I reached for her and ran my fingers through her hair. “Something’s up. Raincheck.”

I ignored the pout on her pretty lips and got on the bike. If she was going to force her way into my life, she had to better understand my world, and unfortunately, it came first.

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