Charlie hunkered down on her haunches to get a close-up look. It was a little redder than she expected. Tentatively, she reached out and touched it. His skin radiated heat. Her expression did little to hide her worry.
“Your hands warmed up.”
She ignored him.
“Have you been feeling feverish at all?” she asked, feigning a cool, detached air and rising to her full height to making eye contact with him for the first time since she entered the room.
With the back of her fingers, she touched his forehead. Her hand lingered there only a few seconds before she touched his cheek over the jagged scar. Gingerly, she stroked his cheek with her thumb.
Why couldn’t she stop touching him inappropriately? What was wrong with her? She placed her hand behind his neck to feel if he felt hot there as well.
“You feel a little warm to me.”
“You make me warm.”
“I make you mad.”
Jaxon saw the flash of hurt in her expression. “You drive me mad. There is a difference.”
Suddenly, his mouth came down on hers. He felt the pressure on the back of his neck increase as she pulled him closer. Her breath was ragged and choppy—fast and shallow.
Jaxon could not have said why he did it. Perhaps it was the fact he couldn’t forget the kiss from the day before or maybe it was just because it had been so long since he felt a connection with a woman that his baser instincts had taken over. He could still feel the way she had touched his chest the night before as if it was burned into his memory. All night long his hand kept searching out her hand upon that scar expecting it to be there because he could still feel it. How was that possible?
He had begun to get annoyed when she hadn’t emerged from Daniel’s cabin. The longer it took, the more irritable he became. But the moment he saw her, he forgot everything else, but getting her alone.
He pressed his body into hers, his strength pushing her back until his desk halted her. Her body bent backwards like a willow over it until her hips were on top. He pulled her knees around his hips and ground his pelvis into hers. Instinctually, she rotated her hips toward him. Through their clothing, she could feel his erection against sensitive area between her legs. She could feel nothing else. Her world had narrowed to the sensation building there as he moved against her time and time again.
She didn’t hear the pounding on the door and had she; she wouldn’t have known what it meant. She only knew when Jaxon’s thumb brushed her nipple, her body convulsed in powerful waves of pleasure.
“Go away,” Jaxon shouted at the door pulling his lips from hers, but continuing to grind against her repeatedly.
“I’ve brought my chest. Open up,” called Daniel from the passageway.
Jax swore, as he pressed into her one last time. He watched as her eyes opened—they were smoky with passion. “Are you with me?” he asked quietly. He lifted her off the desk to the floor. Her knees started to buckle and he held on to her until she began getting the strength back in her legs.
“Damn it, Jaxon! I am going to break this door down if you don’t open it immediately.”
“Hold on. I’m coming.” A knowing smile pulled at the scar on his cheek as he realized he brought her pleasure. He only wanted to kiss her and perhaps arouse her a bit, to tease of pleasures to come, it never occurred to him she would be so responsive.
“Can you stand?” he whispered as reached for his desk chair. It scraped across the floor loudly and he helped her into it. “Act naturally. I’m going to let him in now. He gave her a quick peck before letting Daniel in.
“Bloody hell, Daniel. What do you think is going on in here? You’ve only been gone a few minutes.”
Jaxon turned his back on Daniel and crossed the room. He poured a glass of water and took it to Charlie.
“We were just discussing Charlie’s need to keep a medical log of whom she treats, when and for what purpose,” he lied smoothly. “She was just about to check my wound when you started knocking. I’m afraid she’s not going to be happy with me when she realizes I’ve pulled a couple of the stitches.”
She leaned forward in her chair. It was true. The skin around three of the stitches had torn slightly and drops of fresh blood had appeared. It hadn’t been like that when she had examined him a few minutes earlier.
“I thought I told you no strenuous activity,” she said, her cheeks still flushed with passion. “Luckily, they aren’t bad enough to warrant any further stitches.” She went to the basin, wet a washcloth then dabbed gently at the drops of blood. “Good as new.”
He liked seeing the blush on her cheek, the ill-concealed smile, the way she glanced up at him when her head was tilted down.