Mac’s Bedside Manner Page 13

  His body throbbed, pleading with that part of him that could still reason.

  But he couldn’t do this. Not to her, not to himself. Because if he took advantage of Jolene—and that was what he’d be doing—he wouldn’t really like himself very much when it was over. He didn’t believe in taking unfair advantage of anyone.

  So with effort that bordered on the superhuman, he caught hold of Jolene’s shoulders and, ever so slightly, pushed her back.

  Dazed, disoriented, Jolene looked at him.

  It surprised her that she still had her clothes on. She would have thought that they would have incinerated on contact.

  Dragging air into her lungs, she waited so as not to sound like a simpering, breathless teenager. “What?”

  “I don’t think you want to do this.” She would never know, he thought, how much it pained him to say this.

  The last time she’d been this shocked, she’d found her husband with the receptionist “taking dictation” beneath him. “What?”

  Mac got up from the sofa, because if he didn’t, if he remained sitting where he was, he was going to forget all about the noble instincts he was striving to remember and go with the ones that were inbred.

  Pacing, he ran an impatient hand along the back of his neck. “God only knows where this is coming from, but go home, Jolene.”

  He was calling her by her name. He’d never done that before. It made it personal.

  Of course it was personal, she reviled herself. Her lips had all but had to be surgically removed from his.

  Still something within her hoped that she misunderstood him. “What?”

  The words burned in his throat as he pushed them out. “I said go home. Go home before I forget all about what I learned in the Boy Scouts.”

  Lots of words were flying around her head. She was only hearing one thing. “You don’t want me?”

  He laughed harshly. What was he doing, trying to be a Boy Scout at his age? “Not very intuitive, are you? Yes, I want you, want you more than I want to breathe right now, but I don’t want this to happen for the wrong reasons.”

  She didn’t know what to think. She only knew he was rejecting her after she was finally willing to give in. Needed to give in. “And those are?”

  “Because you almost lost a patient today and you’re feeling vulnerable. Because you want to get back at your ex. Because I’m pushing you.”

  But he wasn’t, she thought. Not right now. Not if she was being honest. “I thought that was the whole idea, you pushing.”

  His eyes were serious as he looked at her. “I don’t push. When it happens, it’s mutual.”

  She squared her shoulders. “So you’re sending me home.”

  There was something in her eyes that ripped open his heart. He’d hurt her. “For your own good.”

  She didn’t need to hear excuses. “Okay. Okay, fine.” She grabbed her purse and strode to the door, wanting only to put this all behind her.

  Then, surprising him and herself, she suddenly strode back into the room and kissed him. Kissed him harder than she’d ever kissed anyone before.

  Stunned, Mac drew back his head to look at her in wonder.

  “Maybe I don’t want to be good.”

  There was no maybe about it.

  It was out of his hands, he thought. A man could only hold off so much.

  Taking her purse from her, Mac let it drop to the floor.

  Chapter Eleven

  The words “stop” and “wait” echoed in the recesses of her brain, then faded away.

  She didn’t want warning cries, she wanted what Mac could do for her.

  She wanted to feel again.

  To feel that wild, exhilarating rush coursing through her veins, reminding her that she was alive.

  Reminding her that she was a woman.

  Not just a nurse, not just a mother, but a woman, a woman a man could desire.

  Because Dr. Harrison MacKenzie wasn’t just some loser sitting on a bar stool in the corner, praying that tonight he’d get lucky; he was a man who could easily have any woman he wanted. And he wanted her.

  She’d been fending him off from almost the very first moment she’d met him, but she didn’t want to fend him off any longer. At least, not tonight. Not now. Later would be time enough to go back to business as usual and to put this evening of passion and her misstep behind her.

  Jolene wasn’t doing this to be loved, or to lay foundations for “happily ever after.” She knew there was no such thing as happily ever after. She was going into this fleeting liaison with her eyes wide-open, expecting nothing but a good time.

  And more than anything, she knew that MacKenzie could show her a good time.

  Now that she’d made her intentions clear to him, she half expected that he would have stripped her of her clothing faster than a top spinning around on its point. That had been Matt’s way. With her experience limited to one man, Jolene assumed that every man followed more or less the same pattern, especially since MacKenzie had to know that foreplay was not of the essence. That she was a willing participant in this sensual dance they were engaged in.

  But he surprised her again. This time by moving slowly. By lingering on her mouth as he caressed her, his fingers curving slowly along her body as if she was made of porcelain china.

  Her head spun, her body heated not just to his touch but in anticipation of his touch. More surprises. She was the one who wanted to go faster, to scale summits quickly. Wanted to, but didn’t. She was drugged by the power of his mouth, by the hypnotic sway of his body against hers as it molded itself to her.

  An urgency for fulfillment fought with the desire to have this go on forever, building toward the final crescendo she suddenly craved with every fiber of her being.

  Her fingers diving into his hair, she gave herself up to the delicious sensations battering her body and reveled in them as if this was the very first time for her.

  Because, in a way, it was.

  Mac had never kept count of the women in his life. Somehow that seemed tacky to him. But there’d been enough willing partners for him to know that this one was different, far more different than the others. Pacing himself took more effort than it ever had before because he wanted her with an urgency that beat hard and fast within him.

  It had been a very long time since he’d felt like this, not since his teens.

  Maybe not even then.

  Creating a small pocket of space between them even as his mouth continued its assault on her senses, Mac began to undo the tiny buttons along the front of her dress, patiently separating each from its hole one at a time. His lips left hers and worked their way along her jawline and the hollow of her throat.

  He could feel her quivering beneath his hand. Could hear her breathing increase, could hear his own become more audible as excitement began to roar through his veins.

  An eternity later, he’d freed her of the material. A thrill swirled through him as he slid her dress from her shoulders, down her arms. It pooled around her feet.

  She was wearing a teddy, something soft and sensual and sheer, with tiny blue flowers scattered wantonly against a black background.

  He nearly swallowed his tongue just looking at her.

  How could her husband have walked away from this? Even feeling the way he did about marriage, Mac couldn’t understand someone willingly leaving a woman who looked like this.

  It was as if somewhere, a gun had gone off, bringing her back to consciousness. Jolene realized that she was standing before him, almost nude, and he was still as formal as when he’d walked through the door.

  Not for long, she promised herself. This wasn’t going to be one-sided if she could help it.

  Playing catch-up, Jolene had to concentrate to keep her hands from trembling as she pushed his jacket off his arms. She yanked it away, then tugged his shirt out of his pants.

  Her fingers got in her way. Unbuttoning his shirt took a talent that she almost couldn’t master.

  She c
ould feel him smiling against her lips. Rather than make her back away in flustered embarrassment, she pushed on with determination. “I’m not used to undressing men.”

  He drew his head back to look at her for a moment before forging on. She looked beautiful in this light, he thought. Like a proud goddess out to tame a beast.

  And she was telling the truth. He could see that in her eyes.

  “I’m glad.”

  Mac had no idea where that had come from and he didn’t want to think about the fact that he meant it. This wasn’t the time to think, this was the time to steep himself in the sight, the feel, the smell of her. In all the sensations that this woman was causing to rise up within him like some kind of wanton tidal wave beating against the shore.

  The clothes she ordinarily wore had only given the slightest hint of the body that existed beneath. She had a beautiful figure. Her waist was small, her hips firm and her belly taut and tempting.

  He splayed his hand over it, his fingers brushing along her thighs. Her moan enflamed him.

  They found themselves on the floor, a tangle of limbs and desires, explorers on the cusp of brand-new, undiscovered countries.

  Anointing her skin with his lips and tongue, Mac began at her breasts and worked his way slowly, maddeningly down along her body.

  The dips and hollows quivered as he took each part of her and made it his own.

  Every fiber of her body felt as if it was screaming, urging him on, begging him not to reach journey’s end too quickly. Jolene dug her fingers into the short pile of his white rug, twisting the strands just as her own body twisted in complete ecstasy.

  She arched her back, all but levitating off the floor as Mac teased her into her first climax. The explosion she felt came suddenly, with bright lights shooting up and blotting out the darkness.

  The sensation racked her body, stealing her breath and her mind away.

  Before she could gather up her strength, he was doing it again, creating something out of nothing, bringing up a surge of energy within her when she could have sworn there was none.

  This time the sensation almost undid her. She fell back, barely able to drag air into her lungs, her thoughts obliterated.

  And then she was suddenly looking up into his face. He was over her, his body sliding into place along hers provocatively.

  The exhaustion she’d felt just a moment earlier was a thing of the past.

  He smiled at her a moment before he brought his mouth down on hers. Smiled not seductively, but genuinely, as if everything was all right. As if she was safe from any and all harm forever.

  She understood now why women gravitated to this man. Because more important than making them feel desirable, he made them feel good.

  Mac framed her face in his hands and just looked at her for a moment. She was beautiful. So beautiful, it almost hurt.

  He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. Though the satisfaction he enjoyed in pleasuring her was immense, he needed to be one with her. Now, before he was completely torn apart by the needs that were all but consuming him whole.

  Mac sealed his mouth to hers a moment before he entered her.

  As his kiss deepened, so did the tempo of the rhythm he had initiated. The beat grew faster and faster until finally the uppermost point that they both sought was reached and conquered.

  A euphoria of the magnitude he’d never encountered before enfolded him in its arms as he slowly felt his descent take hold.

  All he could think about was holding Jolene to him in an effort to sustain this sensation, this feeling of incredible peace that had come from nowhere and overtaken him.

  His heart still hammering hard, Mac rolled off her and gathered her to him, unwilling to break all connection just yet. Mac pressed a kiss into her hair as he waited for his heart to stop pounding like a drum and start beating normally again.

  Well, she’d done it. She’d slept with the enemy and found him far from enemylike. What did she say at a time like this? Beyond “wow,” of course.

  She stared at the vaulted ceiling, her head resting against the downy hairs on his chest. The beat of his heart seemed oddly comforting although she hadn’t a clue as to why.

  “That was some nightcap,” she finally said. She felt him laugh softly, the sound rumbling along his chest, teasing her cheek.

  “At least you can’t say I plied you with alcohol and got you drunk so I could have my way with you.”

  She raised her head slightly to look at him. “Did you? Have your way with me, I mean?”

  He ran his fingers along her cheek, caressing the softness. “I’d like to think it was your way, too.”

  It was, she thought, and that was just the problem.

  Time to get dressed and go, a small voice within her pleaded urgently.

  She rose on her elbow, wishing there was something she could use to cover herself with beyond the growing pink flush of embarrassment.

  She cleared her throat, looking away. “Well, I’ll spare you any awkward moments.”

  She was going to bolt. Mac caught her wrist before she had the chance to get up. He noticed how small and delicate it felt in his hand.

  “Jolene, if I pushed you in any way—”

  What kind of game was he playing? They both knew what had happened. “If I remember correctly, I was the one who grabbed you.”

  Yes, she was, he thought. She’d almost made it to the door, home free, and then she’d turned back. Luckily.

  “Why?” Mac slowly traced the outline of her lips, watching her eyes as he waited for her to give him an answer.

  She could feel her heart begin to step up its tempo again. This couldn’t be good for her. He couldn’t be good for her. He fell into the category of designer ice cream—and she was supposed to be on a diet.

  At a loss for an answer, even to herself right now, she shrugged.

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Damn it, he was making her skin dance beneath his touch, to say nothing of what was going on in her body further down. She tried to steal herself off and found she couldn’t. “I wish you’d stop doing that.”

  This time, his smile was almost wicked as he looked into her eyes. “Why?”

  “Now you sound like Amanda.” Her daughter was always asking why until there were no answers left. This time, she felt as if she was starting off at that point. “Because you’re making me…” Desire was causing her voice to fade away.

  He leaned forward, touching his lips to her temple. “Making you what?”

  “Want things again.” The words were ushered out on a breathless sigh.

  His lips teased hers, moving just along the perimeter. “Things?”

  Damn him, he knew perfectly well what he was doing to her. He’d honed his act to perfection. “You, all right? Making me want you again,” she answered tersely. “Does that satisfy your ego?”

  “My ego—” he kissed her eyelids shut one at a time “—has nothing—” Mac proceeded to each cheek “—to do—” and then her chin “—with this.” He claimed the hollow of her throat.

  By the end of his sentence, he’d effectively disintegrated her thought process. What remained were the same smoldering desires that had already been uncovered once this evening.

  It wasn’t fair that he could do this to her and she was leaving him unaffected. “Then…what…does?” she managed to ask.

  Mac stopped kissing her long enough to gather her to him again. His eyes held hers. “Guess.”

  Jolene could feel her heart fluttering in her chest. “I think I can get it on the first try.”

  “Be my guest.”

  Her smile worked its way up to her eyes as she laced her arms around his neck and brought his mouth down to hers.

  Erika had dozed off reading one of the romance novels she so dearly loved. They’d been her diversion of choice ever since she’d snuck her first novel out of her sister’s bookshelf at the age of twelve.

  The sound of someone moving around downstairs woke her.
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br />   Her first thought was for Amanda’s safety. She glanced at the telephone on the nightstand and thought of calling 911. But what if she was just imagining the noise? What if it was part of her dream? If the police showed up and there was no one, they’d think she was just a nervous old woman. She didn’t much care for the old part of the label.

  She was going to have to check this out before calling. Taking the baseball bat that had been her late husband’s weapon of choice to use in case of a possible break-in, she cautiously made her way out of the room and to the top of the stairs.

  Erika held her breath, then switched on the hall light. “I’ve already called 911, so you’d better get out of here before they arrive.”

  “Fine, but after I get Amanda.”

  Hand over her heart, Erika sank down on the top step, the bat beside her. “Jo, you scared me half to death.”

  Crossing to the foot of the stairs, Jolene looked up. “Didn’t look that way to me from here.” She eyed the baseball bat next to her mother. “Who were you expecting, Mark McGwire?”

  Erika rose to her feet again, using the bat as leverage. She made her way down the stairs. “It’s late, you never know.”

  “This is Bedford, Mother. Nothing dangerous every happens in Bedford.” Except for having Harrison MacKenzie making love to you, Jolene added silently. “Sorry I’m so late.”

  That Jolene was here at all disappointed Erika. “I didn’t expect you at all,” she told her daughter. She attempted to read Jolene’s expression, trying to discern how the date had gone without asking. “You know, you could have stayed the night. All you had to do was call.”

  Flustered, Jolene looked at her. She’d wanted nothing more than to stay the night with Mac, which was exactly why she hadn’t. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m referring to that gorgeous man you were out with tonight. I thought the two of you might—”

  Because the two of them had, she didn’t want to hear her mother elaborate any further. “We went out to dinner, Mother,” she cut in quickly. “A person can only eat for so long.”

  Jolene was being too evasive, too skittish. Erika began to think that perhaps the date had gone well after all. She smiled.