Wrong
Page 16
I try not to react. Because I want to. I want to lean in and kiss his palm. I want to beg him to do so much more.
"My job is to get the patient pregnant, then I hand them off to an obstetrician."
"So you specialize in knocking women up?"
"Yeah. Rich women or women with great health insurance." He taps the tip of my nose. "Not college students."
"I'm not looking to get knocked up."
"Good. Now finish your sandwich and sober up so I can take you home."
His footsteps fade and the front door clicks shut.
I place my empty plate and glass in the dishwasher before walking into the adjoining family room with the television Luke mentioned. I look around. This place is decorated like an expensive model home. I don't see any indication that anyone really lives here. No magazines or stray mugs on the end tables. I'm not really interested in watching TV, I'm interested in a house tour.
Exiting the family room through a door that connects back to the hallway, I find a study. This room looks lived in. He spends time in here—I can smell his cologne lingering in the air. The walls are lined in books. Mainly medical, but there's a few crime mysteries too. Not a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey anywhere, sadly. There's a Mac set up on the desk and some stray pens and paperwork scattered across it.
I leave the study and cross the circular center point of the condo. Skipping a massive formal living and dining room, I follow the dark hardwood floor back towards the front door. There's a hallway to the left and right of the front door. I investigate the space to the left first. Three virtually identical bedrooms with their own adjoining baths. They're all empty. As in, completely empty. The same hardwood floor runs wall to wall in each. Not a bed, dresser or hanger in the closets.
The hallway to the right of the door leads me to a massive coat closet and laundry room. I pass both in favor of the door at the end, the master bedroom. There's a walk-in closet the size of my dorm room on my left. It's empty. This is starting to get a little creepy. He does live here, right? He didn't just abandon me in a vacant condo. No, his office looked lived in. I continue and find an even larger walk-in closet across from the master bath. This closet is filled. Rows of neatly organized suits and shirts. Shelves of sweaters and racks of polished shoes.
The bathroom could accommodate a dozen college students, but there's only a vanity for two, an enormous oval tub and a walk-in shower. The entire room is spotless, save for a can of shave cream and a razor on the vanity.
Back in the bedroom there's an area rug covering the hardwood, centering the room and surrounding the massive king-sized bed. I walk back to the bed and open the nightstand drawer. Empty. I cross to the other side, closest to the bathroom, and open that one. Condoms. I sit on the edge of the bed. So he lives in this massive space and uses two rooms of it. A place a doctor could not afford, department head at the hospital or not.
I liked Luke better when he was less confusing, when he was just Luke who flirted subtly with me while buying coffee. That's not true—I like this Luke too. The one who watches out for me and rescues me from a disastrous ending to my date and makes me a sandwich. I like him. I don't like the mixed signals he sends, but I like him.
This bed is really comfortable and I want nothing more than to lie down and close my eyes, so after removing my boots, I do. I can't get comfortable though, so I stand up and strip off my jeans and sweater and climb under the sheets. This bed is heavenly. I hit the light and snuggle into the pillow that smells of Luke. I don't care if he finds me here in my underwear, asleep. I'm tired of his confusing behavior and besides, he's already seen me in less.
Chapter 13
I awaken and look at the bedside clock. It's just past eleven. The house is dark and I need to use the bathroom. The air is chilly when I slip out from under the covers, so I wrap a throw from the bed around me as I walk. I make use of the facilities and then wipe off the mascara that's flaked off during my nap and, finding some mouthwash, rinse my mouth before walking back to the bed.
I thought he'd be back by now. I consider lying down again, but I'm wide awake. Maybe I'll watch TV, or find a book in the study. I turn and jump a foot. "Jesus, Luke!"
He's sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room, wide awake, just watching me.
"I was watching you sleep." I love his voice. It's so smooth and deep and embodies control.
"You're a little creepy, you know that?" I ask.
He shrugs. "I come home to find your clothes in a pile on the floor and you asleep in my bed. What should I have done, Sophie?"
I walk towards him. "Joined me?" I suggest.
He smiles at that. "You're twenty-one."
"Yeah." I stop in front of him. "Three years past legal."
"You're a virgin."
"Yeah." That stings. Am I not experienced enough for him? "You want me to come back when I know what I'm doing?" Tears prick at my eyes. I am so sick of the rejection. I toss the throw at him and walk back to my clothes. "Take me home, Luke. I'm sure I can find someone on campus to spend the night with," I say, picking my sweater off the floor. "Believe it or not, plenty of guys on campus would be happy to fuck me without so much conversation about it."
When I stand up he's behind me, his hands on my shoulders. He slides my bra straps over my shoulders before unsnapping it.
"Shut up, Sophie. I don't want to hear another word out of your flippant mouth about you sleeping with some idiot boy on campus. You want me to fuck you, sweetheart? Is that what you want?"
"Yeah." I tilt my head back onto his shoulder. "It is."
"I'm not going to call you in the morning." He's sliding my panties down my legs. "I'm not that guy."
"Okay," I agree.
Holy shit. This is happening. I am finally going to have sex. Luke is not rejecting me again. He’s not my gay boyfriend. He’s not my jerk boyfriend. He’s real and this is happening, right now.
He's bent behind me, pulling the panties free from my ankles before placing his hands on my hips and kissing the curve of my back where it meets my behind. His hands slide lower to cup my ass and his thumbs spread out, caressing me. "Perfect little ass." He's raining kisses over my behind as he speaks. "Do you have any idea how much I've enjoyed eyeing this ass when you turn around to fill my coffee every week?"
"My job is to get the patient pregnant, then I hand them off to an obstetrician."
"So you specialize in knocking women up?"
"Yeah. Rich women or women with great health insurance." He taps the tip of my nose. "Not college students."
"I'm not looking to get knocked up."
"Good. Now finish your sandwich and sober up so I can take you home."
His footsteps fade and the front door clicks shut.
I place my empty plate and glass in the dishwasher before walking into the adjoining family room with the television Luke mentioned. I look around. This place is decorated like an expensive model home. I don't see any indication that anyone really lives here. No magazines or stray mugs on the end tables. I'm not really interested in watching TV, I'm interested in a house tour.
Exiting the family room through a door that connects back to the hallway, I find a study. This room looks lived in. He spends time in here—I can smell his cologne lingering in the air. The walls are lined in books. Mainly medical, but there's a few crime mysteries too. Not a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey anywhere, sadly. There's a Mac set up on the desk and some stray pens and paperwork scattered across it.
I leave the study and cross the circular center point of the condo. Skipping a massive formal living and dining room, I follow the dark hardwood floor back towards the front door. There's a hallway to the left and right of the front door. I investigate the space to the left first. Three virtually identical bedrooms with their own adjoining baths. They're all empty. As in, completely empty. The same hardwood floor runs wall to wall in each. Not a bed, dresser or hanger in the closets.
The hallway to the right of the door leads me to a massive coat closet and laundry room. I pass both in favor of the door at the end, the master bedroom. There's a walk-in closet the size of my dorm room on my left. It's empty. This is starting to get a little creepy. He does live here, right? He didn't just abandon me in a vacant condo. No, his office looked lived in. I continue and find an even larger walk-in closet across from the master bath. This closet is filled. Rows of neatly organized suits and shirts. Shelves of sweaters and racks of polished shoes.
The bathroom could accommodate a dozen college students, but there's only a vanity for two, an enormous oval tub and a walk-in shower. The entire room is spotless, save for a can of shave cream and a razor on the vanity.
Back in the bedroom there's an area rug covering the hardwood, centering the room and surrounding the massive king-sized bed. I walk back to the bed and open the nightstand drawer. Empty. I cross to the other side, closest to the bathroom, and open that one. Condoms. I sit on the edge of the bed. So he lives in this massive space and uses two rooms of it. A place a doctor could not afford, department head at the hospital or not.
I liked Luke better when he was less confusing, when he was just Luke who flirted subtly with me while buying coffee. That's not true—I like this Luke too. The one who watches out for me and rescues me from a disastrous ending to my date and makes me a sandwich. I like him. I don't like the mixed signals he sends, but I like him.
This bed is really comfortable and I want nothing more than to lie down and close my eyes, so after removing my boots, I do. I can't get comfortable though, so I stand up and strip off my jeans and sweater and climb under the sheets. This bed is heavenly. I hit the light and snuggle into the pillow that smells of Luke. I don't care if he finds me here in my underwear, asleep. I'm tired of his confusing behavior and besides, he's already seen me in less.
Chapter 13
I awaken and look at the bedside clock. It's just past eleven. The house is dark and I need to use the bathroom. The air is chilly when I slip out from under the covers, so I wrap a throw from the bed around me as I walk. I make use of the facilities and then wipe off the mascara that's flaked off during my nap and, finding some mouthwash, rinse my mouth before walking back to the bed.
I thought he'd be back by now. I consider lying down again, but I'm wide awake. Maybe I'll watch TV, or find a book in the study. I turn and jump a foot. "Jesus, Luke!"
He's sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room, wide awake, just watching me.
"I was watching you sleep." I love his voice. It's so smooth and deep and embodies control.
"You're a little creepy, you know that?" I ask.
He shrugs. "I come home to find your clothes in a pile on the floor and you asleep in my bed. What should I have done, Sophie?"
I walk towards him. "Joined me?" I suggest.
He smiles at that. "You're twenty-one."
"Yeah." I stop in front of him. "Three years past legal."
"You're a virgin."
"Yeah." That stings. Am I not experienced enough for him? "You want me to come back when I know what I'm doing?" Tears prick at my eyes. I am so sick of the rejection. I toss the throw at him and walk back to my clothes. "Take me home, Luke. I'm sure I can find someone on campus to spend the night with," I say, picking my sweater off the floor. "Believe it or not, plenty of guys on campus would be happy to fuck me without so much conversation about it."
When I stand up he's behind me, his hands on my shoulders. He slides my bra straps over my shoulders before unsnapping it.
"Shut up, Sophie. I don't want to hear another word out of your flippant mouth about you sleeping with some idiot boy on campus. You want me to fuck you, sweetheart? Is that what you want?"
"Yeah." I tilt my head back onto his shoulder. "It is."
"I'm not going to call you in the morning." He's sliding my panties down my legs. "I'm not that guy."
"Okay," I agree.
Holy shit. This is happening. I am finally going to have sex. Luke is not rejecting me again. He’s not my gay boyfriend. He’s not my jerk boyfriend. He’s real and this is happening, right now.
He's bent behind me, pulling the panties free from my ankles before placing his hands on my hips and kissing the curve of my back where it meets my behind. His hands slide lower to cup my ass and his thumbs spread out, caressing me. "Perfect little ass." He's raining kisses over my behind as he speaks. "Do you have any idea how much I've enjoyed eyeing this ass when you turn around to fill my coffee every week?"
