CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I PULLED MY CARDIGAN tight around me as I waited in the chilly exam room. I wondered if this was something they taught at med school. Every exam room I’d ever been in was sub-freezing…or maybe it was simply my nerves that caused a chill to trickle down my spine.
Pacing the room, I studied the diagrams of the brain, the nervous system, and the heart hanging on the wall. Science had never been my strong suit in high school or college. As far as I was concerned, these diagrams could have been in a foreign language. A few of the terms were familiar, due to the amount of reading I’d done about the disease that now plagued my father. Still, I found myself in awe of Noah and his accomplishments at what I considered to be a young age for the medical field. He had a list of credentials a mile long. All I had going for me was my ability to write a killer sex scene. The differences in our achievements were staggering.
“What are you doing standing up?” Noah’s demanding voice cut through my thoughts. I hadn’t even heard the door open.
Whirling around, I blinked at his tall frame standing in the doorway. I immediately felt lightheaded, which had nothing to do with my recent fall. There was something about the sight of him, the power and compassion in his gaze, that knocked the breath out of me.
“I told you I’m fine.” I cracked a small smile, recovering my composure. “Making Brian push me in a wheelchair was a bit of an overkill on your part.”
“There’s no such thing when it comes to you.”
My breath hitched, his words taking me by surprise…in a good way.
“I need to make sure nothing got rattled,” he explained. “It’s protocol.”
“Of course.” My shoulders fell.
“Go ahead and have a seat.” He gestured to the padded table, a sheet of tissue covering it.
“There?” I asked with a grimace.
“Where else?”
“Anywhere else.”
He eyed me, intrigued. “You don’t like doctors?”
“It’s not necessarily that, but I’m a female.”
“So I’ve noticed,” he countered with a grin.
I bit my lower lip, completely flustered by his proximity in such close quarters. Fidgeting with my hands, I explained, “Every time I’m forced to sit on an exam table, a cold metal instrument is being shoved into my hooha. And the sound of that paper crinkling is worse than nails on a chalkboard. I’d rather not have to hop onto that sadistic device you call an exam table.” I crossed my arms.
“That’s okay. I’m flexible.” He winked.
A sex-craved little fairy, which had taken up residence in my stomach, started flapping her wings as I wondered exactly how flexible Dr. Noah McAllister truly was. I shouldn’t have had these thoughts, but I was only human…and perhaps a little horny. There was something about him — his tall stature, the roughness of his hands, the vividness and sincerity in his eyes when he looked at me — that had grown increasingly impossible to ignore over the past several weeks.
“I’ve heard that about you,” I joked in a low voice, taking a seat on a wheeled stool opposite the exam table.
“You realize, technically, that’s my chair, don’t you?”
I nodded, smirking as I crossed my arms over my chest.
Letting out a sigh, he kept his eyes glued to mine, faux irritation plastered on his face. He sat in another chair, then hooked his foot on the bottom of mine, dragging me toward him.
The sudden movement caught me off guard and I gripped the sides of the chair. One second, I was in my own little world. The next, I was in Noah’s atmosphere. I inhaled quickly, his peppermint breath and musky aroma invading my senses, intoxicating me. One hit of that and I was a complete goner. A dull ache settled between my legs in such an inconvenient way. I wanted to yell at my raging libido to calm herself, but I had a feeling the sex-deprived nymphomaniac had no intention of listening.
“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about this,” I said, struggling to suppress the multitude of inappropriate thoughts circling my head at that moment. I had a rather vivid imagination, which was currently on overdrive. “I’m fine. It was just the shock that unbalanced me. Honestly.”
He removed a penlight from the pocket of his lab coat and turned it on. “Just look straight ahead.”
I huffed, following his command as he shined the light into my eyes. I didn’t know what he was looking for, but I no longer cared. I’d do whatever he wanted in order for him to remain near me. We hadn’t been this close to each other since that almost kiss. The warmth coming off his body was an aphrodisiac.
“From what Brian and Larry told me, you took a pretty nasty fall,” he said in a soft, even voice, shining his light at a bunch of different angles while I continued to stare straight ahead. “I’m just making sure you don’t have a concussion.”
He turned off the light and sat back in the chair, holding up his hand. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“I’ll give you a finger.”
“So original.” He lowered his arm. “You’re not the first one to tell me that. Remember, I deal with patients with Alzheimer’s and dementia on a daily basis. Some of them are quite snarky. In fact, most of them could probably outsnark you.”
“Outsnark? Is that a real word?”
“It is now.”
“I’m not sure,” I said in reproach. “I may have to consult Merriam-Webster, just to verify.”
“You do that. Now, how many fingers?” He held his hand back up.
“Three.”
“Good.” He placed his hands on his legs and studied me in an unnerving manner. “How do you feel?”
Horny? I thought to myself. “Fine.”
“Pick a word other than fine. You’re a writer. I’m sure you have a thesaurus stored in that beau…” He stopped himself, then continued, “big brain of yours.”
I flung my eyes to his, wondering if I’d simply imagined he almost called me beautiful. Imagined or not, there was something in the air between us tonight that was much more charged than it had been over the course of the past few weeks. I’d spent a great deal of time with him, but we’d kept things light and easy. He hadn’t looked at me with this kind of hunger in his eyes since we shared that dance.
“It’s the truth. I feel fine.”
“You always say you’re fine. Nothing more, nothing less. Give me something else.”
“Give me something else to go on here. What specifically do you want to know?”
“How’s your head? Any headaches or stiffness?” He cupped my face just below my jawline and tilted my head from side to side, looking for any indication the movement caused me pain.
“My head is just dandy.” I smirked, avoiding the use of “fine”.
“Better.” He removed his hands from my face. “How about any nausea?”
I shook my head. “None.”
“Okay. Can you stand up for me?”
Eyeing him, I slowly stood from his chair.
“Walk a straight line.”
“Is this a DUI checkpoint? Do you want me to recite the alphabet backwards while I’m at it?”
“No.” He smiled. “Most people can’t even do that sober.”
“And most people can’t really walk a straight line all that well sober, either, especially when they’re wearing chunky shoes.” I gestured to the wedge sandals with a rather impressive heel I wore to give my meager height an added boost.
“Okay. I’ll let you slide.” He stood up, peering down at me. “Any dizziness?”
I shook my head, my chest beginning to rise and fall in a faster pattern.
Leaning closer, he continued his questioning. “Numbness?”
“No,” I whispered, a dull fire igniting in my bloodstream.
“Any tingling in your limbs?” His voice grew quiet, serene. He ran his tongue across his lips, his eyes locked with mine.
Dazed, I shook my head again.
“Are you feeling tired or drowsy?”
“No,” I breathed. An outside force made me shorten the distance between us. I should have done something, anything, to break the building tension. This was wrong. It was selfish of me to push the boundaries Noah had obviously been struggling with, but I’d never felt so inspired before. “I feel…”
He leaned down, his sweet breath mixing with mine, our lips a whisper away. A voice in my head screamed at me to walk away, but I physically couldn’t. I was frozen in place, unable to put on the brakes. Noah was like a drug I’d grown addicted to. I’d become desperate to spend time with him so I could go home and write until my fingers bled. I hoped that was the only reason I couldn’t stop thinking about him anyway. I didn’t want to consider the possibility there was a deeper, scarier reason for my infatuation.
“Yes?” He inched closer, his mouth nearly brushing mine.
My lips tingled, anticipation and yearning bubbling deep within. I’d imagined what Noah’s kisses were like. I even tried to use that to write Jackson and Avery’s first kiss. No matter how many times I’d imagined it, though, the words I wrote seemed lacking. It wasn’t right. There was no spark, no electricity, no euphoric sensation I felt all over from them finally acting on their impulses after weeks of torturous buildup. If I could just have one taste, I could get it right. Then I’d be satisfied and could move on.
“Fine,” I finished my thought.
A smile broke out on his lips. Before he had a chance to retreat, I clutched his cheeks in my hands, forcing his mouth to mine. A shiver ran through me as my tongue traced his lips, begging for permission to enter, urging him to drop all his apprehensions. There was no turning back after this. I understood why Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit. Now that I had finally gotten a taste of something I wasn’t supposed to have, I wanted more.
A low groan escaped his throat as he deepened the kiss. He pulled me closer, wrapping my hair around his hand, blissfully trapping me to him. His tongue explored my mouth, as if imprinting each crevice and dip to memory, thoroughly examining everything I had to offer. Part of me wished I had a way to take notes of everything I thought and felt so I could reference them later. The other part was lost in the moment. My body arched into him, a raging fire inside me. Weeks of pent-up yearning — the sideways glances, the occasional innuendo, the random brush of our hands — had culminated in this kiss. It was more passionate, more sensual, more heated than I could have imagined.
He moved his hands to my hips and lifted me with extraordinary ease, forcing my legs around his waist, propping me on the exam table. Tiny synapses erupted in my core as he gently pulsed against me. The feel of his arousal between my legs made me want more of him. More of his kisses. More of the feel of his body against mine. More of his calloused hands brushing against my skin in the most reverent, yet prurient manner. His movements were measured, forceful, greedy. It didn’t matter I had initiated the kiss between us. He made it clear he was in charge. It made me burn for him in a way I didn’t think possible. My mind was blank, my brain silent for the first time in years. All I could hear was a voice inside me begging for more. God, I wanted more of him, more of this, more of everything that made me feel alive.
I reached for his belt, tugging at it. Our kiss became frantic as we carelessly attempted to remove every barrier between our bodies. As I was about to rip my shirt over my head, a loud beeping pierced the sound of our heavy breathing.
Noah jumped back, snapping out of whatever trance he was in. His wide eyes met mine, horror plastered in the lines of his face. Frozen in place, he simply stared at me.
I had no idea what to do. I should have said something, but what? Don’t worry about it. I just kissed you because I’m using you for my book. I had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well at all.
When his phone beeped again, he pulled it from the clip around his belt. Looking at the screen, his brows furrowed.
“I have to go,” he said quickly, avoiding my eyes. He readjusted himself, then headed for the door.
“Noah, wait.” I jumped off the exam table I used to loathe. However, it now held some rather pleasurable memories. I’d never look at an exam table the same way again.
He paused just as he was about to turn the knob. He glanced over his shoulder, looking at me as if I had an infectious disease. A pang of guilt seeped into my chest when I saw the turmoil radiating from every inch of his body.
“This shouldn’t have happened.” His voice was firm. Straightening his spine, he smoothed the lines of his shirt and pants, then left the room, closing the door behind him.