Page 20 of Rescuing Dr. Marian (Made Marian Legacy #1)

Finally, inevitably, Foster did pull away, sitting up and running both hands through his sleep-messed hair. The sight of him—bare-chested, dark hair sticking up at odd angles, a faint red mark on his collarbone that I barely remembered making—sent a fresh wave of want through me.

“Coffee,” he said, like it was a magic word that would solve all our problems.

“Good plan.”

What followed was the most erotically charged coffee preparation in the history of caffeine.

The cabin, which had seemed merely small before, now felt like a dollhouse.

Every movement required negotiating around each other, every task an exercise in spatial awareness that had nothing to do with efficiency and everything to do with the way Foster’s sleep pants hung low on his hips, the thin fabric highlighting the outline of his full cock .

I’d never spent so much time thinking about another man’s dick before, and suddenly I was obsessed.

Focus.

“Can you—” I started, reaching for the coffee filters.

“If you just—” Foster moved at the same time, moving toward the pot next to the supply caddy.

“Move your—” We both stopped, me pressed against the tiny table with Foster’s chest nearly touching my back as he reached around me for the pot.

We froze like that, his arm bracketing me against the table, his breath warm on the back of my neck. The heat radiating off his skin seared through me and the lingering scent of sleep mixed with a faded hit of masculine deodorant did more to wake me up than coffee ever could.

“Tommy,” he said quietly, and there was a warning in his voice.

“Foster,” I replied, intentionally matching his tone.

His free hand came to rest on my hip, thumb finding that same spot that had driven me crazy moments before. “We’re going to be late.”

“Are we?” I leaned back slightly, just enough to feel the solid warmth of his chest. “Oooh. Your pulse just spiked, Sheriff Blake.”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what? Making medical observations?”

“You know what.” But his thumb didn’t stop its movement, and he didn’t step away.

“Ah, am I being a professional distraction again? I seem to have a habit of that.” I turned in the circle of his arms, suddenly feeling braver than I had any right to. “You keep looking at me like you’re annoyed, but your ears turn red every time I stretch.”

Foster’s eyes darkened. “You want to keep poking, Doc? Go ahead and find out what happens.”

The challenge in his voice sent heat straight through me. “Yeah, I do. I’ve heard that poking a bear results in a physical and aggressive response.”

For a heartbeat, I thought I’d pushed too far.

That I’d brought our secret nighttime activities into the morning and across some unspoken boundary of his.

Foster’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with something that might have been frustration or desire or both.

Then he stepped closer, until my ass was pushed against the table, and then further, forcing me to lean back and brace myself on one arm.

His big hands bracketed me on either side, closing me in.

“Mm. I believe this is called agonistic display,” I said softly, even as my heart hammered against my ribs. “When wild animals try to intimidate their prey.”

“That right?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Do you find me intimidating, Dr. Marian?”

“Maybe a little. And clearly I’m here for it,” I said, letting my gaze drop meaningfully to where our hard cocks were now pressed together before meeting his eyes again.

Something shifted in his expression then, the last of his morning restraint cracking. “Fuck it,” he muttered, and then his mouth was on mine.

This kiss was different from the desperate hunger of the night before. It was slow, thorough, like he had all the time in the world to explore. His tongue traced my lower lip before deepening the kiss, and I made a sound that should have been embarrassing but only seemed to encourage him.

My hands found the waistband of his sleep pants, fingers dancing along the edge, and he groaned against my mouth.

“Tommy,” he said, but it sounded more like surrender than protest.

“Fuck, I like when you get all growly,” I murmured against his lips, then nipped gently at his jaw. “New kink unlocked.”

His response was to lift me onto the table, stepping between my legs and kissing me harder. The new angle let me wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, and suddenly, we were grinding against each other like teenagers.

“Christ,” Foster panted, his forehead resting against mine. “We have jobs to do.”

“Do we?” I was having trouble remembering why that mattered when his hands were sliding under my t-shirt, mapping the skin of my back with calloused fingers.

“The students?—”

“Can wait five more minutes.”

Foster’s laugh was breathless. “Five minutes? That’s optimistic.”

“Fine. Two minutes.” I kissed the corner of his mouth. “One minute.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he said, but he was smiling as he said it.

I was about to respond when Chickie chose that moment to bark at the door, the sound jolting us both back to reality. Foster stepped back, running a hand through his hair again, and I reluctantly hopped down from the table .

“Right,” he said, his voice rough. “Coffee. Breakfast. Responsibilities .”

“Very adult of us,” I agreed, though my voice wasn’t much steadier.

We managed to get through the rest of our morning routine with only minimal additional contact, though I caught Foster staring when I pulled my SERA shirt on.

“See something you like, Sheriff?” I asked, unable to resist teasing him.

Instead of answering, Foster crossed the small space between us and reached for my collar, ostensibly to fix where it had gotten twisted. But his hands lingered, smoothing the fabric over my shoulders, his thumbs brushing the base of my throat.

“You missed a spot shaving,” he said quietly, his thumb tracing a patch of stubble along my jaw.

“Did I?” My voice came out embarrassingly breathy.

“Mmm.” His touch was featherlight, almost reverent. “Right here.”

I leaned into the touch without thinking, and he made a sound in his throat. For a moment, we just stood there, him touching my face like it was something precious, me trying not to melt under the tenderness of it.

Then I leaned up and whispered in his ear, letting my lips brush the sensitive skin just below. “Tonight, I want to find out what you taste like when you come in my mouth.”

Foster’s whole body went rigid. “Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy.”

“Too much?” I asked, pulling back to gauge his reaction .

His eyes were blown wide, pupils dilated, and he was breathing like he’d just run a mile. “We’re going to be late,” he said, but it sounded more like he was reminding himself than me.

“Save it for later?” I suggested.

“Yeah,” he said roughly. “Fuck, yeah. Definitely saving it for later.”

I grinned and headed for the door, grabbing my backpack from its spot by the door. “See you at breakfast, Sheriff.”

“Tommy,” he called after me, and I turned back. He was standing in the middle of our tiny cabin, hair still messed up, shirt rucked up, looking like sin and temptation and everything I’d never known I wanted.

“Yeah?”

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then seemed to think better of it. “Nothing. Just… be careful today.”

“Always am.”

“Yeah, right. Your eyes on my ass during technical rescues says something different.”

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in months. “It’s called situational awareness, Foster. First rule of wilderness survival is you gotta keep an eye out for predators.” I waggled my eyebrows.

Foster’s answering smile was small but genuine. “Get out of here before I teach you what predators do when you get too close,” he growled.

I grinned. “Always eager to learn.” Then I shot him a wink and hurried out of the cabin before he could make good on his growl. I practically floated to the dining hall, whistling under my breath like an idiot.

Behind me, I heard Foster mutter something to Chickie that sounded a lot like, “Don’t judge me! You’ve been practically humping the man since you met him,” and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.

For the next seven and a half weeks, I was going to enjoy every minute of this wild thing we’d started.

And I wouldn’t let myself think about what came next.