Page 12

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Kenzie

I stare intently at the door while my fingers clamp tightly around the worn edges of the book Reggie just returned to me. Every instinct screams that I should tell him to leave.

I should definitely tell him to leave.

Yet, instead, I find myself stepping forward, reaching behind me to slide the lock into place with a soft, decisive click.

Reggie smirks, his wolfish grin stretching across his freckled face, his bright amber eyes shimmering with a knowing gleam, as though he anticipated my resistance would crumble.

Before I can even entertain a second thought, his arms encircle me once more, drawing me into the solid, reassuring warmth of his chest.

I inhale deeply, his cologne enveloping me in its intoxicating embrace, rich cedarwood mingled with a hint of spice.

The scent alone leaves my head spinning.

"Back for more already, lass ?" he teases, his voice a low, velvety murmur that tickles my lips, sending shivers down my spine.

"Shut up," I whisper, rising onto my toes to press my mouth against his.

He groans into the kiss, a deep, resonant sound, his hands tightening possessively around my waist, pulling me even closer.

His lips move against mine with a fervent hunger, each kiss growing deeper, more insistent and urgent.

I lose myself entirely in the sensation, the softness of his lips, the way his stubble brushes deliciously against my skin, the way his hands grip me as if he never wants to let go.

All the tension that had knotted within me dissolves, like ice melting under a warm sun, and I feel as though I can finally breathe again. I clutch at his sweater, drawing him nearer.

God, I want him. I need him.

And from the way his hands roam over me with a fervent, searching urgency, I can tell he feels the same.

Reggie's hands grip my thighs suddenly, lifting me with an effortless grace that leaves me breathless, and a gasp escapes my lips as my legs instinctively coil around his waist like ivy clinging to a sturdy tree trunk.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble vibrating against my lips, thick with a day's worth of pent-up desire. “I’ve wanted to do this all damn day.”

His words barely register in my mind before he sets me down on the edge of my desk, his large, firm hands anchoring themselves into my hips, holding me in place as if I might float away.

His body radiates an intense heat, seeping through the layers of our clothes, igniting a fiery trail wherever it touches mine.

My fingers slip beneath the hem of his sweater, eager to explore the bare skin beneath, and I shiver at the sensation of his body, solid, warm, sculpted as though an artist had painstakingly carved him from the finest marble.

My uninjured hand glides over the ridges of his abs, fingertips tracing the defined, undulating lines of muscle with reverent curiosity.

Damn. The man is an absolute masterpiece, a living testament to perfection.

Reggie watches me through half-closed eyes, his breath emerging in short, heated puffs like steam from a locomotive.

“Like what ye feel, love?” he rasps, the words a smoky caress against my senses.

I bite my lip, my palm pressing flat against his taut stomach, feeling the subtle twitch of his muscles beneath my touch, a silent symphony of reaction.

“Maybe,” I tease, my voice barely more than a breathless whisper.

He growls softly, a primal sound, as his lips trail down the curve of my jaw, along my neck, leaving a scorching path of heat in their wake.

His hands are already slipping beneath my top, peeling it upward with a deliberate slowness, his fingers brushing my skin like an artist memorizing every contour, every inch of his canvas.

I arch into him, my breath catching in my throat, the intensity of my desire reaching a fever pitch. I have never wanted anything so desperately, so completely, in my entire life.

My fingers fumble with his belt buckle, desperation rendering them clumsy and inept. Reggie chuckles softly against my neck, his warm breath ghosting over my skin as his teeth graze it lightly.

He assists me in undoing his jeans, the metallic clink of the buckle and the rustle of fabric loud in the stillness of the room. The sound of his zipper sliding down seems impossibly loud, slicing through the quiet air like a knife.

My hand slips inside, finding him through the thin material of his boxers. He's hot and hard, a living pulse beating against my touch. Reggie groans, his hips jerking forward involuntarily, a primal response to my touch.

"Christ, lass ," he pants, his voice thick with his accent, even more pronounced in his heightened state of arousal. "Ye drive me mad."

His hands slide up my thighs, the warmth of his touch leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he tugs at my scrubs higher. His fingers hook into the waistband of my panties and my scrubs, the fabric yielding easily as he tugs them down my legs.

I lift my hips, assisting him, and kick them off when they reach my ankles, feeling the cool air against my skin.

Reggie's eyes darken, a stormy sea of desire as he drinks in the sight of me, exposed and yearning. His thumb traces along my inner thigh, the touch feather-light and torturously slow as he inches higher.

I squirm, anticipation coiling tightly within me, desperate for his touch where I need it most.

"Patience, love," he murmurs, a wicked glint dancing in his eyes, teasing and promising.

But I'm done with patience. I grab his wrist, guiding his hand to the center of my need. We both groan as his fingers slide through my slick folds, the intimate contact sending a jolt through my body.

"Fuck, ye're so wet for me," Reggie growls, his voice a low rumble as his thumb circles my clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me.

I whimper, my hips instinctively rocking against his hand. "Please, Reggie," I beg, my voice raw and needy, unashamed of my desire.

He captures my lips in a searing kiss, his mouth hot and insistent against mine as he pushes two fingers inside me.

I gasp into his mouth, clinging to his shoulders as he starts to pump his fingers in and out, curling them just right to hit that spot inside me that makes me see stars, each stroke sending a wave of pleasure crashing over me.

I'm moaning, my head lolling back as waves of intense pleasure cascade over me. Reggie seizes the opportunity, his lips pressing against my exposed neck, his mouth skillfully sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin with fervor.

"That's it, love," he murmurs against my throat, his voice a low rumble. "Let me hear ye."

His thumb continues its rhythmic dance on my clit while his fingers delve deeper, moving faster, each thrust sending me spiraling higher and higher, teetering precariously on the brink of bliss.

"Reggie," I pant breathlessly, my nails digging into his shoulders like anchors. "I'm so close…"

He growls, intensifying his efforts with a primal determination. "Come for me, lass . I want to feel ye fall apart around my fingers."

His words, coupled with the relentless movement of his hand, propel me over the edge. I cry out, my body tensing and arching as waves of pleasure explode within me, like fireworks igniting in the night sky.

Reggie's fingers continue their magic, prolonging my orgasm until I'm trembling and gasping for air, every nerve ending alive and singing.

As I descend from that euphoric high, Reggie withdraws his hand, bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth. He laps them clean, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sends another rush of heat coursing through me.

"Ye taste divine," he purrs, his voice roughened by desire.

Before I can formulate a response, he's kissing me again, deep and passionate, his lips claiming mine with a fervent need. I can taste myself on his tongue, a reminder of the pleasure we just shared, and it only ignites my longing for more.

I reach between us, my fingers deftly freeing his cock from the confines of his boxers. He hisses, a sound of sheer pleasure, as I wrap my hand around him, stroking his length with deliberate, teasing movements.

"Need ye," Reggie groans, his hips instinctively bucking into my touch, his voice a raw plea. "Now."

I guide him to my entrance, both of us moaning as he slides inside. The stretch is exquisite, my body welcoming him like he was made to fit there.

Reggie stills for a moment, his forehead pressed against mine as we both adjust to the sensation. His amber eyes are molten with desire, pupils blown wide.

"All right, love?" he asks softly, always checking in despite his obvious need.

I nod, rolling my hips experimentally. The movement draws a groan from both of us

"More than all right," I breathe, wrapping my legs tighter around his waist.

That's all the encouragement Reggie needs. He starts to move, setting a steady rhythm that has me gasping with every thrust. His hands grip my hips, angling me just right so he hits that perfect spot inside me with each stroke.

I cling to him, my fingers tangling in his hair as he drives into me.

The desk creaks beneath us, papers scattering to the floor, but I can't bring myself to care. All that matters is Reggie, the feel of him inside me, his hands on my skin, his lips on my neck.

"Fuck, ye feel amazing," Reggie groans, his accent thicker with each thrust. "So tight, so perfect."

His words send shivers down my spine, stoking the fire building inside me. I arch my back, meeting him thrust for thrust, desperate for more.

"Harder," I gasp, tugging at his hair. "Please, Reggie.”

He obliges, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with our breathless moans and gasps.

Reggie, with a mischievous grin on his face, takes the spicy novel off my desk and flips it open, managing to find a sex scene instantly. “Let’s see what makes yer, tick, yeah?” He asks. “Can you do a handstand?”

“What?” I ask, laughing instantly, despite the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter within me.

“Can you stand on yer head, lass ? I won’t ask again.”

The scene is quite hilarious, I’m sure, as I find myself leaning naked against my desk, holding myself up from my arms, upside down.

Reggie is trying to position himself into me from above. It only takes a few attempts before I fall forward, crumpling over myself, both of us howling.

“How do you think they manage to do that?” Reggie asks, flopping next to me on the floor.

“I don’t know. That’s why it’s in a book,” I sigh, before he takes me into his arms again, kissing me.

“Don’t think I was done with you yet,” he purrs, climbing on top of me and pressing inside me again. I wrap my arms around him, feeling him glide back and forth, stroke me from the inside, coaxing me toward another climax.

“You sure you aren’t disappointed about the handstand?” I tease, before I gasp as he changes the angle of his thrusts.

“Gods no,” he mumbles. “Now hush. Unless ye want to scream my name.”

And I do scream his name, loud and long, as my orgasm rolls through me making me cling to him on the cold floor of my office, his hips grinding into mine as he chases his own release.

I hold him as he surrenders to his own pleasure, combing my hands through his thick hair, the lingering joy of my own orgasm sparkling through my nerve endings.

The silence between us is companionable as we linger on the floor, gasping for breath, the hazy aftermath of lovemaking hanging in the air.

“Do ye think there’s other positions in that book of yers that might actually be humanly possible?” he says to me, his voice rumbling through me due to our chests being pressed together.

I push at his shoulders gently, and he reluctantly rises off of me, helping me to get to my feet.

I tug my sweater back down, still feeling the lingering warmth of Reggie’s hands imprinted on my skin like a gentle brand. My body is humming with a residual energy, my breath a touch uneven as I sneak a glance over at him.

“I think most of it is meant to be fanciful,” I reassure him. “We don’t have to go hunting for things to add to the mix. I think we do just fine without all of that.”

He pulls his shirt over his head with an easy motion, shaking out his wild, fiery red hair before smoothing it back into place. His sharp jawline, sprinkled with freckles, is tinged with a rosy hue from the friction of our heated encounter.

His amber eyes catch mine, and he flashes a grin, looking so thoroughly pleased with himself that it almost makes me laugh.

“I couldn’t agree more,” he says. “Still, I know ye like that stuff. No reason not to try and indulge in some of yer fantasies.”

I roll my eyes, attempting to maintain a facade of nonchalance, even as my legs feel like jelly beneath me.

Reggie finishes adjusting his clothes and steps closer, his hands naturally finding their way back to my waist, his thumbs tracing gentle, soothing circles.

"Ye know," he murmurs, his voice softened and intimate, "me an’ the lads could help ye at the clinic, if ye want."

I blink up at him, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. "You guys would really do that?" I ask, my voice betraying my surprise.

He gives me a look as if I've said something utterly obvious. "Aye, of course. We like bein’ here for ye, love."

A warmth spreads through my chest at his words, tightening it in a way that leaves me momentarily speechless. I nod, swallowing past the lump that has formed in my throat, unsure of what else to say.

Reggie tilts his head slightly, his fingers trailing lightly down my arm before he takes a step back towards the door. "Think about it, all right?" he says, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I will," I murmur, watching him as he goes.

The moment the door clicks shut behind him, I collapse against the wall, pressing my fingertips to my still-flushed cheeks, feeling the heat radiating from them.

I am so going to burst into flames when I go to church.