When Lauren returned to the house, she was practically dead on her feet. Usually, during the day, she was able to sit every couple of minutes, between seeing patients and doling out prescriptions. But today, the clinic had been so packed that all three of the doctors on call had been scrambling to get through them as quickly as possible. She was suddenly very happy that Marc hadn’t accompanied her to the clinic after all, because that would have only added to the headache she now had throbbing in her temples.
The door was unlocked when she turned the knob and she was thankful for that, allowing Emma to precede her inside as Lauren practically dragged herself after the pet. Her stomach growled like a lion, reminding her that she’d skipped her lunch break in favor of doing a sonogram for a worried first-time mother, convinced that her unborn child was terribly ill and possibly dead inside of her. It had taken all three of the doctors, and several nurses, to convince her that her two-month old fetus was perfectly healthy and just the right size.
“Marc!” she called. “I’m back!”
Her eyes scanned over the apartment. There were takeout containers piled on the dining room table and, upon closer inspection, she found them all half-filled. She would have to thank Marc later for this, as she grabbed a fork and dug straight into the boneless spare ribs, fried rice, and dumplings that he’d left behind. She shoved as much into her mouth as she could, still scanning the common space for him.
“Marc?” she called. She hoped he wasn’t stuck down on the beach, though she wouldn’t have been surprised if he didn’t listen to her warning about stairs. She didn’t know how she would help him back up in to the house. She wasn’t exactly strong enough to lift him.
Lauren had started toward the deck, still holding the container of boneless spare ribs in her hands, picking at them with her thumb and forefinger, when she heard a whistle and turned to look into her bedroom. Marc was there, as naked as he’d been that morning, with only a pillow to cover him as he sat on the edge of the bed.
There was a book on the bed next to him and Lauren let out a gasp as she recognized exactly what it was, even without being able to see the title. The boneless spare ribs fell from her hands and Emma ran straight over to clean up her master’s mess. Lauren barely registered the tickle of the retriever’s nose as she made her way into the bedroom, her steps slightly staggered, her face flushed and her body aflame as she joined Marc on the bed. She removed the pillow and straddled his bare hips.
“What’s that?” she murmured, stroking his stubbled jaw.
“A little something I found on your bookshelf, Dr. Stanton. Turns out you’re not such a prude, after all.”
“Didn’t I tell you?” Lauren giggled, stroking his shoulders and pressing nipping kisses up and down his neck and chest. “You should really learn to trust me a little more, don’t you think?”
“Hmm,” Marc murmured, his hands slipping beneath her scrub top. This one had butterflies on it. “Maybe so.” Lauren pressed sucking kisses up his neck, until their lips were joined in yet another fiery kiss. His hands traveled up and down her back, squeezing the curves of her ass and breasts, pulling her close to his body. “Mm,” he growled. “You taste so good, but I bet you’d taste a lot better if you took off your pants.”
“Sound logic,” Lauren snorted, pushing off of his lap. She was naked in seconds, but instead of climbing right back atop him, she reached for the book and perched herself on the bed next to him, opening it up to the first page. “So,” she said, “which position were you thinking of?”
Marc leaned in, pressing his lips right up against her ear. “All of them,” he husked, his hot breath washing over her neck and making Lauren shiver. “Or as many as you think you can handle. A lot of them look like they take a little bit of skill. And flexibility. Frankly, Doc, I’m not sure you have what it takes.”
Lauren turned to him with pure fire in her eyes. “Is that a challenge, Mr. Kelly?”
“Depends,” Marc replied. “Are you up for it?”
A slow, sexy grin spread over Lauren’s lips as she placed the book behind her on the bed, hooking one leg around his. “Oh, hell yes,” she said, before attacking his mouth with hers, pushing him firmly back on the bed, her hips gyrating against his as they started with position one:
Missionary.
They broke around Position 12, which had a name neither of them could say with a straight face, but put pressure in certain spots on her body that Lauren knew she would be feeling later.
The sun was already beginning to set as they stepped out into the main room. Emma was laying by her empty food bowl. Lauren quickly filled it and patted the dog’s head, before grabbing the leftover rice and dumplings, dumping them all onto one plate and setting it in the microwave. As the food warmed up, she stared at the growing pile of paperwork on the counter, still beneath her medical journals.
“You’re gonna get me fired,” she said to Marc as he stepped out of the laundry room in a pair of clean boxers and a dark t-shirt that made his muscles look bigger, somehow. She didn’t even think that was possible.
“Oh?” he asked, boxing her in against the counter. “How do you figure that, Doc?”
“I haven’t done any paperwork in two days,” Lauren said. “All because of you.”
“How important is paperwork really, though?” Marc laughed, pressing his lips against her collarbone. “Is it more important than multiple orgasms?”
Lauren made a mewling sound instead of answering the question.
“Is it more important than my fingers?” Marc slipped his fingers beneath the hem of the shirt she was wearing. His shirt.
Lauren moaned, rocking her hips against his hand.
“More important than my mouth?” he husked, trailing kisses down her body, pushing her thighs apart and placing his head between them. The shirt was pushed up to bunch underneath Lauren’s breasts.
She gasped when she felt the kisses on her inner thighs, right where she could feel her pulse thumping in her veins.
“More important than my teeth?” Marc nipped at her inner thighs, his hands still kneading her thighs. He ignored the pain in his knee, intent on giving her pleasure.
Lauren whimpered, her hands clutching the edge of the counter. Her legs hooked over his shoulders as she pressed herself more insistently against him.
“More important than my tongue?” Marc growled, plunging it deep inside of her.
“Ah!” Lauren cried out, her fingers sinking into his hair and tugging in her ecstasy.
When he pulled away, Marc’s mouth was wet with her juices and Lauren was laying back on the counter, her chest heaving.
“So?” he asked. “Is paperwork more important than this?”
Unable to speak, Lauren shook her head. Her hands were still in his hair, tugging him forward until their lips met and she could taste herself in his mouth. She moaned, her legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him against her body.
“Wanna go for 13?” he asked, grinning down at her, his icy blue eyes glinting in the waning sunlight.
“You are insatiable,” Lauren murmured, but didn’t dare to protest as he picked her up, ignoring the ache in his knee as he turned and carried her back into the bedroom. The door slammed before the beeper on the microwave had time to even signal that their food was ready.
Not that either of them was paying much attention to that, anyway.