Love with Me Page 19
“It’s not like riding a bike.”
“And you don’t have dementia,” I remind him. “I understand that you’re going stir-crazy. You went from working sixty-plus hours a week to none, and that has to be incredibly frustrating.”
“You have no idea.” He pulls out of my arms and walks to the windows that look out over Seattle. It’s dark now, and the city is lit up. I can see Jace’s reflection in the glass. “I’m sorry,” he says before spinning around to look me in the face. “I’m sorry for intruding on your business today.”
“Jace, it wasn’t that big—”
“No, it was completely disrespectful and out of line,” he says. “If you’d walked into my operating room and started rearranging things, I would have spanked your ass before throwing you out on it.”
I bite my lip, trying to hide a smile.
“Can we still try the spanking thing?”
He blows out a breath with a chuckle and props his hands on his hips. “I’m trying to be serious here.”
“I know.” I hurry to him and hug him again. “Apology accepted. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. How was your day?”
“It sucked.” I sigh, my ear against his heart. I love the thump thump thump. “I had three emergency surgeries. That Great Dane you saw?”
“Yeah?”
“She ate four socks, and they were stuck in her small intestine.”
“Ouch.”
“She has behavioral issues, mostly because of the owner, who doesn’t want to listen to me. And then I had a pug come in with a laceration to his eye, which he lost, four spay or neuters, and a dog I couldn’t save from being hit by a car.”
“Oh, baby,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. “That’s a rough day.”
“I hate it when the animal dies,” I admit. “It’s just so sad. Did I tell you that I’m getting the additional licensing and building my own crematory behind the clinic? So I can cremate the animals there?”
“No.” He kisses my forehead. “You didn’t mention it.”
“I just secured the loan for it,” I reply. “I want to offer it to my clients.”
“You need to eat and get some rest.”
“I know. I’m on call tonight, and I’m praying that no one needs me. I’m beat.”
He takes my hand and leads me out to the kitchen. “Sit.”
“Yes, sir.” I grin as I prop myself in the stool at the island, watching as he plates my salad and brings it to me with a bottle of water. “Thank you. What did you eat?”
“Pizza.”
“Jace!”
“I know.” He cringes. “Why do you think I was doing all the exercising when you got here? I have to change this diet.”
“This weekend, I’m going to do some meal prep,” I announce. “So we’re not tempted to keep eating out.”
“I’ll help,” he says with a smile. “Can we have pizza?”
“No.”
“Killjoy.” He winks at me. He thinks he’s funny.
I smirk and take a bite of my salad. “Salad is delicious.”
“It’s rabbit food.”
“You’re a cardiologist,” I remind him. “You know better than anyone what bad food does to your heart.”
“Well, then they shouldn’t make it so delicious.”
“You’re a hot mess.”
“But I’m hot,” he says with a cocky grin that makes my lady parts come to life. “That’s what you’re saying.”
“You’re not bad,” I concede.
“I saw the way you watched me doing those pull-ups,” he says as he saunters around the island. “Admit it.”
“I mean, you were half-naked, so . . .”
“Are you done with that salad?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
He lifts me onto the island and pulls my scrub pants down my hips. I lift up so he can peel them, along with my panties, down my legs and toss them aside.
“The countertop is cold.”
“I’m about to warm you up.”
And good to his word, he spreads my legs and presses his lips to my core, sucking and licking and sending me over the moon faster than I knew was possible.
“Holy fuck!” I cry out as I lean back on my elbows and give in to an earth-shattering orgasm.
He kisses my thighs and, before I know it, he’s inside me, his hands framing my face and his eyes on mine as he slowly pulls his hips back and then slams back inside.
“Is this makeup sex?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“I rather like it.”
He sets a punishing rhythm, in and out, hard and fast until he comes, biting my shoulder.
“No more fighting,” he growls against my neck. “I don’t like it.”
“But it leads to this, and this is pretty fantastic.” I bury my fingers in his hair, brushing it softly.
“We can do this without the fighting.” He kisses my cheek, and then my lips. I can still taste myself on him. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
I know we’ll have arguments from time to time. We’re human, after all, but I agree that fighting isn’t my thing. Some couples thrive on the bickering and the drama, but I don’t.
And I’m relieved that he doesn’t either.
He pulls out of me and swears.
“Um, Joy?”
“Yeah?”
“I forgot a condom.” His face is sober. “I’m sorry, babe. I can’t believe I did that.”
“We should be fine,” I reply as I hop off the counter and reach for my clothes. “It’s not the right time of month for me to get pregnant.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” I pat his cheek and lean up to kiss his lips. “Don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to take a shower and then probably go to bed. I’m beat.”
“Do you mind if I read while you sleep?” he asks.
“Not at all.”
I take a quick shower, not bothering to wash my hair, and when I walk into the bedroom, Jace is sitting on the bed, reading his iPad with Carl curled up next to him, purring like crazy.
“More bloodless surgeries?” I ask as I smooth lotion over my legs and then climb under the covers.
“No, this is on a quadruple bypass,” he says, already absorbed in the article. His beautiful hands move as he reads as if he’s performing the surgery himself.
He blows me away. As if he could forget how to perform surgery. It would never happen.
He’s too incredibly talented.
I yawn and turn away from him so the light is to my back and check my phone to make sure the sound is on in case I get called.
I close my eyes and fall asleep.
~Jace~
Joy’s phone is ringing.
She reaches for it, and I check the time. 2:49 in the morning. She only got about four hours of sleep.
I, however, got less than two. Not that it matters. I’m used to living on very little rest.
“Are they on their way to the clinic?” she asks as she hurries from the bed, reaching for a clean pair of scrubs. “I’ll be there in twenty. Get the IV going, and the anesthesia, just in case. It sounds like she may need a C-section.”
Joy ends the call and tosses the phone onto the bed.
“I have to go in.”
“I’m driving,” I say, already stepping into my shorts and reaching for a T-shirt.
“You don’t have to go. You should get some sleep.”
“I’m awake, and I’d like to come along.”
She smiles as she steps into her shoes and nods. “Let’s go, then.”
The drive to the clinic is roughly fifteen minutes. When we arrive, Joy jumps out of my car, barely taking the time to slam her door shut before she runs into the building. I’m on her heels as she rushes into a surgery room where a beautiful German Shepherd is lying on an exam table, panting.
“She had one baby that I already gave to her,” the owner says, wringing her hands with worry and gesturing to the tech. “But it’s been several hours, and no more are coming.”