Chapter Two
Dr. Scott pulled me along with him, asking for directions to the basement as we walked. And though I briefly considered directing him upstairs, to one of the bedrooms, I figured we’d be mobbed by thirsty hospital staff if we never returned with the much-needed ice.
I flicked the light on as Jack closed the door behind us, and we made our way down the stairs. The basement hadn’t been renovated. Bec used it for storage.
When I paused at the bottom of the staircase to find the second light switch, Jack walked into me, the length of a fully erect cock pressed up against my back.
Knowing I did that to him, well…
“Are we having some trouble back there?” I wished my voice didn’t sound quite so breathless.
“No trouble at all. Except for grumpy chefs who stop unexpectedly when you’re walking behind them.”
“You’re obviously having a hard time following this grumpy chef at a safe distance.”
“Hard is a good way to describe it.”
I hadn’t moved. I didn’t want to. I liked the feel of him pressed up against me, his hard-on unapologetically obvious.
For long seconds we stood like that, he deliciously crowding my space, me struggling to catch my breath.
And then his fingers were in my hair, his touch so light, for a heartbeat I thought I’d imagined it.
Anticipation raced up my spine.
“Bella,” he whispered, and I leaned back into him, reveling in the strength of his chest. “I’ve been hard since I caught sight of you across the living room.” He flipped my hair over my right shoulder, and must have dipped his head down, because his voice was a mere inch from my left ear the next time he spoke. “Wanna lick you right…here.”
His lips touched my neck, his touch so tender, a full-body tremor shook through me.
“See if you taste as good as your cannoli.”
His lips parted, and he dragged his tongue over the spot he’d just kissed, licking me like he’d done with the filling from my pastry.
Any ability to inhale abandoned me.
He groaned, the sound reverberating through my ear. “Sweet. So damned sweet.”
Jack suckled my neck, hard enough to make my knees weak but soft enough he wouldn’t leave a mark. His arm crept around my waist, pinning me to him, and I grasped his forearm with one hand, needing something, anything, to hold on to.
Footsteps thudded above us. The heavy beat of a drum drifted through the closed door. But it was the pounding of my heart that almost deafened me. It slammed hard against my ribs, its rhythm out of sync with the sensual tug and release of Jack’s mouth. He had to feel the irregular hammering of my pulse beneath his lips.
“K-keep that up, and we’ll never get ’round to filling the ice bucket.”
Jack sighed and pulled away. “I suppose you’re right.”
It took me a good minute to regain my equilibrium and to balance on my own two feet. My head swam, as though his kisses had injected a sedative straight into my neck. Limbs lethargic, all I wanted was to sink back against his chest and lose myself to the delicious nuzzling of his lips.
“Onward, then.” Jack gave me the tiniest push, and I forced my legs to move, heading to the freezer in the corner. It was fortunate Jack had volunteered to collect the ice—or oice, as he called it—because I had neither the coordination nor the strength to open the freezer door, find the oice, and fill the bucket. All of this he did while still holding my hand.
Trust me, I wasn’t pulling away.
Task completed, he guided me back through the basement and toward the stairs. In an almost exact replication of earlier, I stopped on the bottom step to switch off the light, and Jack walked straight into me. This time, I knew it was deliberate. I may have waited a second or two too long on that step, hoping he’d do just that.
“Are we having some trouble here?” he threw my question back at me. And though I know he teased, I found it tough to answer, because once again, his mouth was by my ear, his breath hot on my cheek.
“Mm,” I murmured. “Just wondering if things were still…hard for you?”
“Fuck.” He nipped my ear lobe. “Harder than ever.”
He proved it to me, pressing himself close. Then he released my hand to push my hair aside again. He buried his nose in it and inhaled. “You smell as sweet as you taste.” His mouth was moving, his lips trailing across my neck. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to my skin, and I swear, I melted, right there on that bottom step. A small moan might even have escaped.
Jack dragged those lips up to nuzzle behind my ear.
Heat shot from the base of my neck to the juncture of my legs. My breasts grew heavy, my nipples pinching into hard points. Then his arm was around my waist again, his hand spread over my belly, the tips of his fingers tormenting the excited flesh beneath my shirt. I wanted to rip the darn thing over my head, feel his palm against my exposed skin.
He traced his tongue over the edge of my ear, and I jerked involuntarily, my ass grinding against his erection.
He let out an agonized growl, as though the contact was enough to cause him pain.
I understood. The need throbbing through me was a physical ache. I needed more.
This time when I ground against his erection, it was entirely intentional.
Jack swore and muttered something unintelligible. He stood a step down from me, which meant at his height—a good head taller than me—his erection was seated firmly against the jean-covered crack of my ass. When I ground against him, he fitted himself into that gap, increasing both the tension and the friction between us.
The barrier of clothing between us made me want to scream with frustration.
“Not enough.” Jack’s voice was gruff, the rise and fall of his chest as uneven as mine. “Need to taste more.”
My hair was a wild mess, tumbling over my shoulder and face. I expected him to brush it aside, expose my neck again, but Jack had other ideas.
The hand on my belly inched lower, his fingers finding the button on my jeans.
“Jack,” I gasped.
“Your skin…tastes like heaven. Need more.” He tugged at the button, unfastening it, then tackled the zipper, pulling it down and open.
“W…what are you doing?”
As if I needed to ask. Already he’d dipped his hand beneath the elastic waistband of my panties.
No way I was stopping him.
“Touching.”
I had on a pair of skinny jeans. Even unfastened, it was not easy for Jack to slip his hand into my underwear. The pants were molded to my body. Yet he seemed to be in no hurry, easing his hand lower and lower still.
“Are you wet for me, Bella?” His mouth was at my ear again, nuzzling.
I tried to answer. I did. But his fingers brushed lower. My panties were soaked. Combined with the heat of his hand, the tight space was damp with my excitement.
I whimpered and ground against him.
“Yeah. Wet and ready for me. For my touch.”
Footsteps thudded close, as though someone were approaching the closed door.
“A-anyone could walk in. S…see us.”
His hand ceased its slow descent. “They could,” he whispered. “They could find us here, with my hand down your pants, your pussy begging for my touch.”
Desire jolted through me.
“They could watch as I dip my finger insoide you.”
God, I wanted his finger in me.
I’d like to pretend his words and his accent didn’t set my blood on fire. Like to tell you the thought of anyone walking in on us was terrible and horrible and mortifying. But the truth is, all I could do was moan in response. My clit, like my pulse, throbbed uncontrollably.
His fingers were so close.
My heart raced.
The footsteps receded, and I swear I was almost disappointed. The idea of someone walking in, finding me pinned against the hot doctor, his hands in my pants…
I tugged at his arm, guiding his hand lower until his finger slid over me.
The groan that filled the air could have been his or mine. It was deep and low and echoed through the basement.
His touch was electrifying. My entire body must have thrown off sparks. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and goose bumps scattered over my spine.
I bucked against him, unsure whether I needed more pressure against my ass or my clit. Probably both.
“So damn responsive.” He bit my neck.
I thrust against his hand, needing more.
“I fucking love it.” He gave me more, edging his finger lower, rubbing over my clit, until the tip found the very wet entrance.
This time the groan was undoubtedly his. I was too busy heaving out strangled gasps to groan.
Jack leaned to the side. There was a gentle thud, as if he’d put something down, then the tinkle of ice against the bucket. When he straightened again, he wrapped his other arm around my waist, his hand creeping beneath the hem of my shirt.
I yelped.
His hand was freezing. Icy and wet, and he trailed it over my belly and higher, finding my bra. He tugged at one cup, freeing my nipple. And the instant it escaped its lacy boundary, he traced the tip with his icy fingers.
The contrast of one hot hand in my pants, tracing my slit, and the other freezing one, caressing a nipple that had never been harder in my life, almost made me come. With his erection pressed against my ass, his massive chest embracing my back, it felt like red-hot pokers of pleasure were stabbing at me from all sides.
I sighed in bliss, and he rewarded me with a pinch to my nipple.
I was lost to the mastery of his touch, of his seduction. So lost, I almost didn’t notice as he withdrew from my pants, torturing my clit as much on his retreat as he had on his advance. But notice I did. The absence of his touch made me want to cry.
“God. No. Jack… Please.” I should have been embarrassed, begging him shamelessly like that. But he’d taken me to a point of no return.
“Shhh,” he soothed, his cold hand still on my breast, tantalizing. “I told you, I have to taste.”
And right there, with his mouth beside my ear, he placed his finger between his lips and sucked. The same finger that had been in my panties.
I heard every sound, every lick, every hum of appreciation, and I trembled in his arms, wanting more. Needing more.
“Fucking delicious.” His voice was a gruff, satisfied whisper.
He traced his wet finger down my ear, over my cheek, and to my lips, leaving a damp trail in its wake. “Taste,” he ordered and dipped his finger between my lips.
Taste…me?
I licked at his finger, hesitantly. There was no hint of anything me-like, just the slightly salty, slightly sweet flavor of his breath.
I sucked on his finger, wanting more. I ran my tongue along it, then squeezed my cheeks in, creating enough suction to pull it in deeper, then released it—only to suck it in again.
As I sucked, rhythmically, Jack pulled me even tighter against him.
If our clothes weren’t there, he’d be deep inside me.
Then his hands were off me.
Empty. Cold and wanting, I groaned in protest.
“Easy, precious.” He nipped right back, biting my ear again. “Just giving you what we both need.”
He spoke the truth. His hand, cold but no longer icy, crept beneath the waist of my panties, and then his finger—no, fingers—were on my clit, and he was massaging gentle circles into the swollen bud until I whimpered.
He pressed against my ass as he drove his finger in and out of my mouth, letting me set the pace with my sucks and licks. And all the while he caressed my pussy.
“So hot,” he whispered. “Not worried at all about who might walk in.”
Liquid heat gathered between my legs.
“You like that idea, don’t you? The thought of someone walking in, catching me with my hands in your pants, my fingers on your pussy.”
I jerked against his hand, and he took the opportunity to dip it lower and slide one hot finger inside me.
“Correction,” his voice broke. “In your pussy.”
Heat rushed to my neck and my cheeks.
He fucked me there, on the bottom step, his finger sliding in and out of my slick channel, his palm rubbing against my clit in the tight confines of my jeans.
My nipples tightened. My gaze was pinned to the door, fastened there in horrified and thrilling anticipation. What if someone walked in? What if someone caught the Italian chef with the new Australian doctor’s hand down her pants, his finger in her mouth?
I couldn’t bear it, and I couldn’t get enough.
The convulsions began low in my belly. As each muscle tightened in anticipation, he slipped another finger in my mouth, and another one in my pussy.
So full.
So good.
My inner muscles flexed, clenching around his invading fingers. My clit swelled beneath his palm.
And just like that, I was coming.
Fuck. Blackness stole my vision for a few seconds as the tremors spread through my body.
“Jack!” My pussy spasmed.
Jack whispered something. What he said, I couldn’t determine. Couldn’t hear over the rush of blood pounding through my ears.
And when at last the convulsions subsided, and only gentle tremors shook my slick folds, Jack withdrew his fingers. This time, instead of him licking my come off his fingers, he offered them to me. An unexpected, and from the sound of his heavy breaths, generous gift on his part.
I accepted, opening up and sucking his fingers between my lips, licking every last drop of my pleasure off them.
Before I had a chance to swallow, Jack spun me around, and cupped the back of my head.
His lips pressed against mine, his tongue stole into my mouth, and he devoured every drop I’d just licked off him. He kissed me so thoroughly, by the time he withdrew his hot, seeking tongue, I was nothing but a sack of trembling, sated, boneless flesh.
My knees gave way, and I sank to the step, landing on my butt with a soft plop. My head lolled forward, until I found my forehead pressed against the front of Jack’s shorts. And though my senses were muddled, and my body blissfully satisfied, my interest perked up.
How could it not?
My forehead was pressed against his very hard, very enticing erection.
I couldn’t help myself, I nuzzled my way over the length of his cock, relishing both the heat that seemed to burn through his shorts and the gruff groan that rumbled through Jack’s chest.
I was suddenly starving. Ravenous for a taste of the gorgeous doctor.
My hands shook as I tugged at the front of his board shorts, loosening them, then yanking them down his legs. I swear, I drooled at the sight of his naked, aroused flesh.
Jack swore softly. “Touch me, Bella.”
I did, winding my hand around the base of his cock.
He was long and thick and hard. And delicious. I knew, because I’d wrapped my lips around his tip and sucked him into my mouth, gorging on his succulent flesh.
Orange cakes be damned. There was nothing citrusy about the taste of Jack Scott’s cock. It was musky and nutty and salty, and its very flavor made my head swim.
I took as much of his length as possible before releasing him—only to swallow him down again. He was too big for me to get my mouth more than halfway down his shaft. But I relished what I could fit and palmed the rest of him in my fist.
I grabbed his ass cheek with my free hand, pulling him closer, and Jack stepped forward willingly, murmuring husky words of encouragement as his fingers tangled in my hair. His ass was firm and toned.
Jack Scott was a buffet of yumminess.
I let go of him with a wet slurp. “Anyone could walk in,” I whispered, dishing out a little of the torment he’d dished up to me. “Find us here, with your pants wrapped around your ankles and your cock in my mouth.”
“Christ, Bella.” Jack jerked hard enough his erection bumped my lips.
“They could watch as I run my tongue along your length, like this…” I licked him from root to tip, and his lusty moan filled my ears.
“So damn responsive,” I murmured. “I like it.”
No, I loved it. Especially when Jack lost whatever control he’d been holding onto. He caught my face in his hands with a hoarse cry and drove his cock inside my mouth. He thrust into me, over and over, his hips moving in a rhythmic tempo.
I opened as wide as I could for him, loving the pressure as his cock hit the back of my throat. I kept my hand fisted around his root, pleasuring him along his full length.
And then his rhythm faltered, and his erection seemed to thicken. He let out another of those hoarse cries, stiffened for a second, and came.
Jets of salty, hot come hit my tongue and throat, filling my mouth.
I loved it. Loved the sheer eroticism of the moment. Loved that I’d been the one responsible for his desire and his release. I loved too that his legs shook unsteadily as he climaxed, as though they were as wobbly as mine had been.
When his rhythmic pulsing slowed and stilled, and his shaft began to soften in my mouth, I gently pulled off him and swallowed every drop of come he’d given me. Then I climbed to my feet, wrapped my arms around Jack’s neck—both for balance and to press myself against the full length of his body—and offered him a taste of the heavenly treat he’d just shared with me.