Great. Just fucking great. I’m jealous of a woman who fluffed her hair in his general direction.
I need serious help.
“No worries,” Luke says and gives her a sensual wink.
Can winks be sensual? It sure looks like they can.
Luke doesn’t seem to notice my wayward thoughts as he wraps his arm around my shoulders and leads me to some chairs. I’m letting him touch me far too often. It’s rattling the insides of my carefully put-together brain. The filing cabinets are falling open, and papers are scattered all over the floor. Pretty soon, a gust of wind will carry them right outside, where they’ll be trampled and shat on.
Damn it all. I need to gain a little more control in these situations, but I’m helpless to do anything but just let him do what he wants. Is this what parents feel like when they have children? Do they eventually just give up and let the child run wild? Because I feel like I’ve lost all control when it comes to him.
He’s running roughshod over the carefully crafted parts of my life.
“Guess we’ll have to sitextra closein economy,” he says, and I take a swig of my water. It’ll be a long flight with him pressed against me. Not that it’s going to be anything new and not that I’m really complaining.
Like the other morning when he just rolled right on top of me and laid there. He was heavy and hot, and I fucking loved it.
He’s slowly melting the cold, dark parts of my heart.
I’ve never met a man so open and willing to experience new things.
I’ve never met a man like him, period.
“Thinking about it, huh?” Luke asks and then leans over and whispers, “My ass is still sore.”
Oh my god.
“Do not bring that up here,” I mutter, and Luke chuckles and shifts in his seat.
“Just telling the truth. Tell me you packed that little kit of yours.”
I eye him and give a clipped nod. “Yes.”
“Fuck yeah.”
He leans back and spreads his arms across the back of the chairs. His fingers play with the ends of my hair, and I do not lean into him. Absolutely not.
I sit there completely still and statuesque. Completely dignified.
Then he’s gently massaging my earlobe, and I subconsciously tilt my head toward him. I mentally slap myself for it. I have to keep it together.
I am not lovesick.
I’m a thirty-five-year-old doctor, for fucks sake.
When we finally get seated on the plane, Luke’s practically on top of me, his hand resting on my thigh as he threads his fingers through mine. He leans back and watches a movie on his phone like this is no big deal. Meanwhile, I’m feeling like a teenage kid holding hands with their crush. I’m a goddamn mess.
I order a mini vodka from the flight attendant and gulp it down.
Then I order another one.
It doesn’t help, of course. The airlines don’t sell alcohol that can make you act more rationally.No, quite the opposite.
By the time we get to the hotel, I’m desperate and overly eager. The alcohol only served to make me hornier.
I don’t have time for this.
But I want it, nonetheless.