No. No. No.
Please, please, please don’t let it be Adaira lying beside me.
I slowly lift my head and peek over at whoever is in my bed but all I see is a shadow. I can’t make out anything about the woman. No body shape. No hair color or style. Nothing.
I stretch for my phone on the nightstand because I plan to use the flashlight but it isn’t there. Just my fucking luck.
I take a chance and reach out in the darkness to feel for Ellison’s bellybutton piercing. I breathe a sigh of relief when I feel the dangling piece of jewelry over her navel. To be one hundred percent certain it’s her, I slide my hand lower to check for the short, thin rectangular strip of hair over the center of her pussy. Thank fuck that’s what I feel.
“Did you not get enough of that already?” A stretch, moan, and yawn follow her words.
“I don’t know. Did I?” I use a teasing tone but I have no idea if I got enough or not. I can only recall flashes of this and that after I downed the Johnnie Walker.
My memory is spotty but I fully recall my brothers competing for Ellison’s attention. She danced with at least a dozen of them but Logan pissed me off the most. The way he held her. The way he touched her. The way he looked at her as though she was already his.
I hated every second of seeing them together.
Everything about last night’s party was shite.
Pieces of the puzzle present and I recall waking to my girl in bed with me last night. I remember being happy she didn’t stay to enjoy the attention she was receiving from my brothers. She chose to come home to me instead.
Ellison told me she was mine and that every last part of her belonged to me. The rest is fuzzy, although I have a vague recollection, very much like déjà vu, where I hear myself telling Ellison that I love her and I’ll die before I let another man have her.
I have no idea if it really happened or if it was a dream. And I’m not sure which I’d like it to be. I love Ellison but making the move to tell her so would be a bad move at this point. It’ll only complicate things between us.
I scoot closer and drape my arm over Ellison’s stomach. “I have clinical today.”
Ellison rubs her hand up my arm. “Are you sure you should go?”
I’d love nothing more than to stay in this bed with her. “Don’t get to skip clinical because I’m hungover.”
“I’m not talking about a hangover. I’m pretty sure you’re still drunk. It’s only been about six hours since you downed a bottle of whisky.”
“Only half,” I correct.
“Whatever. You’re still drunk.”
I’m definitely not feeling my best but I’m not steamin’. “I’m all right. Plus, it’s the first day of this rotation. I’ll mostly be observing.”
“What kind of rotation?”
“Obstetrics and gynecology.”
“You’re going to be looking at other women’s vaginas all day. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“No worries.” I slide my hand between her legs and squeeze. “Yours is the only one I’m interested in seeing or touching.”
“You touched it a lot last night. And you were very clear about it belonging to you and no one else. Especially Logan.”
“I have no memory of that conversation, but I don’t doubt telling you that he pissed me off.”
“You told me there was no way in hell you’d let him have me.”
Logan had a woman and fucked up. “He’s proven he isn’t capable of protecting a wife. I won’t let him repeat that same mistake with you.”
“You make it sound like I’m still up for claiming.”
“Not by him.”
“You said last night that you loved me and would die before you let another man have me.”
Fuck. It wasn’t a dream. I did tell her those things last night. “Mac . . .”
I don’t know what to say.
I love Ellison but I made a conscious decision to keep those words to myself—keep things uncomplicated—until I have a solid plan on how I’ll claim, marry, and protect her.
“I believed you when you said you loved me, and I belonged to you forever. But it was all drunk talk.”
“No, baby. It wasn’t. Please don’t say that.”
“Then say it again. Right now. Tell me you love me. Tell me I belong to you. Tell me you won’t let one of your brothers have me.”
I consider it—saying I love you. Telling her she’s mine and no other’s. But I can’t—at least not until I figure out how to say it and know for a fact that everything is going to fall into the right place.
“It isn’t that simple. We aren’t a normal couple who decides to date for a while and then get married. You and me together . . . we’re complicated.”
She flips over so her back is to me. “I am such a stupid woman.”
“That’s not true.”
I don’t know what else to say. I’ve fucked up with her again. I don’t know how to fix this with her.
Dammit, I hate that I’ve hurt her. Again. I’m such a bastard. “I’m sorry, Ellison.”
She pulls away so I’m no longer touching her. “I think we’re done here.”
Done with what? This conversation or our relationship? I’m too afraid to ask in case she’s telling me we’re over.
I’ve been dismissed, so I get out of bed to get ready for my day at the hospital. Getting vertical does nothing for my head but worsen the pounding pain. I deserve the pain for being such a dick.
I clench my fist and fight the urge to punch the reflection staring back at me in the mirror. This should be the time of my life. Being with the woman I love. But it’s a mess because I keep screwing everything up with her.
I can think of nothing else as I shower and dress for clinical. Every other minute I consider stopping what I’m doing to go to Ellison. But I don’t because I have no idea what I’d say or do.
I think we’re done here. It’s a good indication she doesn’t want me to say or do anything.
I go to Ellison’s side of the bed and place one of my handguns and a new box of ammunition on top of the nightstand. “I’m leaving you my Glock just in case.”
The sun is rising so I’m able to see she’s still awake but choosing to not reply.
I hate that she isn’t speaking. I hate that she’s angry with me. And I hate that I’m the cause of her pain.
I lean down to kiss the top of her head but she pulls away. “I think I should move back to the apartment.”
Something inside me rips when I hear her say those words. She isn’t leaving me. I’m not giving her up.
I flip Ellison to her back and pin her down with her hands restrained above her head. I lower my face to hers so we’re eye to eye. “No.”
One word. One command. One intention.
I want to fuck her into the mattress. Need to. But don’t have time. Wish I could say fuck clinical and stay in this bed with her all day.
“I’ll be home at seven. Be in this bed naked and waiting for me because I’m going to fuck you until you know exactly why moving back to the flat is the last thing you’re going to do.”
Her breath hitches and she squirms beneath me while biting her bottom lip. She’s getting turned on right now. And I’m going to use that to remind her why she’s not going anywhere.
I creep down her naked body, kissing her every couple inches.
“Be.” Kiss.
“In.” Kiss.
“This.” Kiss.
“Bed.” Kiss.
“Naked.” Kiss.
“And.” Kiss.
“Waiting.” Kiss.
I reach her pubic bone and dig my fingers into her hips to hold her in place as I press a hard kiss there against her groin. “Tell me where you’re going to be when I come home tonight.”
“In this bed.”
“And in what manner will you be in this bed?”
“Naked and waiting.”
“Good girl. ’Cause my tongue is going to be all over y
our pussy when I get home tonight.” I place one long slow, hard kiss against the top of her slit. “I have to go, baby, or I’ll be late.”
Ellison releases a loud groan. “That. Was. Cruel.”
“Mmm. Maybe, but at least I know you’ll be here waiting to get what’s coming to you.” I flip her over so she’s facedown and smack her on the bum. “And when I’m done with your arse, you’ll never threaten to leave me again.”
The obstetrician I was assigned to shadow today is acting more like my shadow, standing behind me looking over my shoulder. “You want to apply perineal pressure and control the delivery of the head to prevent her old scar from tearing.”
Fuck. I’m sitting on a stool between this woman’s legs about to deliver her baby. I was not expecting to do anything like this today. Day one at other rotations is always set aside for observation.
“Like this?” I position my hands as Dr. McCoy instructs at the same moment the patient yells that she has to push.
“Exactly.”
The expectant mother pulls back on her legs and crowns the baby with the next contraction. “Oh, God. There’s so much pressure.”