Dr. Neurotic(16)

"And what is the Harry's veteran getting?"

"Obviously, the best damn thing on the menu."

"Do tell what that is," he demanded, but I shook my head.

"Nuh-uh. That's top secret, Harry's VIP kind of information."

Before he could take the witty banter further, Suzy Q arrived back at  our table, setting down two fresh water glasses and napkin covered  silverware. "Have we decided?"

"I'll have what she's having," Nick announced cleverly, and I quirked a teasing brow.

"But I haven't even ordered yet."

"I know, but I figured it's best to order the same thing as the woman who seems to know Harry's meat better than anyone else."

A barking laugh left my lips. "Ew, gross," I muttered, and Suzy Q just stared at the two of us like we were crazy.

"Fine," I acquiesced before our waitress just up and left us to our  inside-jokes-focused conversation with none of Harry's meat for either  of us. "We'll have two Frisco melts, a large order of fries, and two  chocolate milk shakes."

She jotted down our order on her notepad and shouted, over her shoulder  and toward the kitchen, "I need two number sevens, a jumbo fry, and two  choco shakes!" Once the chef dinged the small silver bell in response,  she slid her pen and notepad back into her apron. "Is there anything  else I can get ya's?"

"I think we're all set," Nick answered. "Thanks."

As our waitress walked toward the kitchen, he wrapped his arm around my  shoulder and tucked me in close to his side. "You look beautiful  tonight, Char."

I smiled. "So do you."

"Isn't it amazing what a good hangover can do for your skin complexion?" he teased, and I giggled.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. There's no way your hangover was that bad."

He raised his brow. "Trust me, it was bad. I would've canceled surgeries if I'd had an OR schedule today."

"Sheesh," I muttered. "I guess that means we need to work on making your drinking game strong."

"Hell no." He laughed and shook his head in two determined side-to-side motions. "I'll stay alcohol-free, thank you very much."

"If it makes you feel any better, my morning started out a little rough, too."

"I guess that does make me feel a little better. It also enlightens me  to the fact that you aren't ashamed to lie for your own amusement." He  shook his head and did his best to change his voice to that of a woman.  "Oh, I'm fine. Hungover? Ha-ha-ha. No, sir. I have the blood of a  goddess and the heartiness of a god."

I laughed and covered my mouth with two fingers when the rolling waves  refused to stop. "I'm sorry I told you I was fine when you were  suffering." I cleared my throat and bumped up the volume on my faux  melancholy. "I only puked twelve times," I lied again, and his eyes  widened in concern.

"Shit. Seriously?"

"No." I grinned. He discreetly pinched the side of my ass in  retaliation. "Actually, I only woke up with a little bit of a headache,"  I admitted. "Nothing some ibuprofen wasn't able to solve."

"So, if you're measuring on the same scale as I am, I guess your first  proclamation of fine wasn't so off base. I woke up feeling like I'd  attempted my own brain surgery without anesthetic."

"Eeek." I grimaced at the metaphor. "Sorry I made you drink last night."         

     



 

"Don't be," he said. "I haven't had that much fun in a long fucking time."

I searched his eyes and smiled at the truth and honesty that lay behind his gaze. "Me either."

Nick brushed a piece of hair behind my ear and leaned forward, his lips  painting barely there, shiver-inducing kisses up and down my neck.

Goose bumps pebbled my skin, and a soft sigh left my lips. "That feels good."

"It does."

"Yeah, it does feel good," I responded. "Really good."

"That wasn't a question, Char." Nick's eyes met mine, but his lips  stayed busy on my skin. "I'm finding that kissing you is my new favorite  thing."

Mine too.

Cripes, if he kept this up, I'd have to tell Harry we needed a rain check.

Just as Suzy Q carried a tray of food toward our booth, Nick placed one  final kiss to my shoulder before straightening up in his seat.

My mouth turned down into a little pout of its own accord. When it came  to Nick, I seemed to have this incessant craving for more from him. More  touches, more kisses, more attention. Just, more.

I silently wondered if I'd been a cat in a past life or something. Lord  knows, if he offered to pet me right now, I'd be in his lap and purring  my excitement without a second thought.

He brushed his index finger across my mouth. "I think we're going to  need to finish what we started, after we eat, at my place. Sound good?"

Oh my God, yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! my brain, and most likely, my vagina  shouted. My mouth did a better job of playing it cool. "That sounds  perfect."





Dinner with Charlotte had been equal parts enjoyable and fucking maddening.

I'd enjoyed the easy flow of our conversation, the riotous sound of her  laugh-even the Frisco melt and fries I'd washed down with an ice-cold  milk shake-but the intense urge to strip her naked and kiss her  senseless made my skin crawl with a tinge of early-stage insanity.

I'd spent the majority of our meal fixated on the seductive way her  plush, full lips moved whenever she said something or smiled or laughed,  and every time she crossed or uncrossed her legs, my balls grew heavier  with need.

Mesmerizing eyes, soft, glowing skin, long, svelte legs with a firm,  curvaceous ass, and lush, rounded hips I couldn't stop thinking about  wrapping my hands around again-Charlotte Hollis was beautiful,  everywhere.

It took every inkling of willpower to keep my gawking to a minimum.

But my hourglass of patience had run out, and thankfully, we had finally made it back to my place.

With the intense need to feel her-everywhere-front and center, my hands  tingled as I yanked at the hem of Charlotte's skirt and pushed her into  the wall right inside the front door of my apartment.

Inhibited by our bodies no more, we kissed like our lives depended on  it, and I kicked the door shut with a hard slam. It rang out painfully  and cut sharp arrows into the following silence.

Through panting breaths and subdued groans, Charlotte offered her throat  to me brazenly, daring me to get in there and take my time.

I did so without complaint, almost drowning in her intoxicating smell  and warmth. Her body was pliant, helpful even, curving into the bulk of  mine and working to get closer. I felt like a man starved for anything  and everything related to her.

She was a buffet of all of my favorite things, and I wanted to taste and devour it all.

It wasn't that I hadn't had any sexual contact in years, or that I  considered myself some kind of candidate for celibacy, but the truth  was, I scarcely prioritized it. Between work and Lexi, my schedule was  nearly full to the brim, and if I was going to add in anything else, it  was going to be more time with my daughter.

But Charlotte's flushed skin screamed I was an idiot, because this-this was worth prioritizing.

"Nick," she moaned, yanking at the short hair at the back of my head  almost viciously. My mouth left the skin of her throat without choice,  and my eyes moved up to meet hers.

"What?" I whispered. What did she need, what did she want, what could I  do to make her burn? I wanted the answers to all of my questions at  once, and I got the feeling she sensed it.

Her irises darkened to the midnight that outlined them as she demanded, "Kiss me."

Both hands to her jaw, my fingertips tangled into the loose hair at her shoulders and flexed as I slammed my mouth against hers.

It was a war between us, her lips advancing on mine until I forced their  retreat. She was so brazen, so bold in every encounter I'd had with  her, and I wanted control of this. I wanted to own every square  millimeter of her peachy flesh and then work my way inside until I'd  discovered every taste.         

     



 

The chocolate milk shakes we'd had with dinner lingered and itched  against my lips as I licked and sucked it off hers, and a gasp gave me  the freedom I needed to spear my tongue inside.

She welcomed it with her own, tangling the two in a dance that made my grip on her jaw tighten and the air in my stomach lift.

She tasted even sweeter than the milk shake and whipped cream combined, a dessert so loaded with sugar it should be illegal.

I groaned, almost a growl, and she pushed into my body to wrap her arms around my shoulders tightly.

Stomach to mine, she pressed herself to me and lifted a leg, cocking it at the knee to get closer.

I was focused, living in her mouth, but the pull of her hands in my hair  made me realize I needed to find a new location and quick.

She was light, taking some of her weight in her own arms as I slid my  hands from her jaw, down the sides of her body to her hips and lifted.

As her thighs clenched my hips, her hands regained some freedom, and  they didn't waste it. She dove into the top of my shirt, two buttons  undone on purpose, and made getting the rest undone the most immediate  purpose of her own.