Free Playing Doctor by Jan Meredith Page B

a little while, but she wasn’t making it easy on him.
    She’d told him it had been four years since she’d had a man—of course she’d be tender, especially after the way they’d gone at it. They’d both been hungry, desperate for it. He’d taken her hard and fast, and she’d met him stroke for stroke.
    Now, straddling his lap as the water churned around them, she reached around and tugged the black elastic band from his hair. Her slender fingers combed through his dampened hair, massaging his scalp. If she kept it up, he’d end up doing something utterly embarrassing, like drooling or purring or some shit.
    Like a favored pet eager for its master’s touch, he leaned his head into the caress, and if the contented sigh that rumbled in his throat had an odd tone to it, who cared? If one night was all he had with her, he was damn well going to wring every ounce of pleasure, every nuance of luxury he could from it.
    She lifted her arms, and her breasts rose along with them, wet and glistening with tiny beads of water dripping from her rosy nipples as she worked her own hair into a high ponytail at the back of her head. All he’d have to do was lean forward, just a little, and flick his tongue over those tight little buds. It was as if they were just calling to him, saying, “ Well, here we are, come play with us!”
    But that would lead to other things, like wrapping her legs around his waist and sliding into her hot, tight—
    Nope, he needed to leave her alone. Instead, he reached out and grabbed her by the waist to drag her to him for a loud, smacking kiss that made her laugh. He turned her around and pulled her back snug to his chest, and in doing so, pressing her sweet ass up against his dick, which had definitely enjoyed the show.
    Then he played with her breasts.
    He missed this—the easy, after-sex closeness with his partner. He enjoyed cuddling, the warm afterglow, the scent of sex and woman. He hadn’t wanted this with any of his former partners since Rita’s death, but tonight, with Beth leaning back against his chest, her head resting against his shoulder, her breasts filling his hands, it just somehow felt…okay. Right. And because it felt okay and right, Gabe chose not to question it, to enjoy it for what was left of his time with her. He settled back against the tub, tucked her a little closer, and tried to ignore the streak of possessiveness worming its way into his heart.
    “Can I ask you a question?” Beth’s hands skimmed up his thighs, coming to rest on his knees as they swished back and forth in the water.
    “Sure, ask away,” he said happily, amusing himself with her nipples.
    She turned her face into his neck, nuzzled her nose against his jaw. “It’s personal.”
    Gabe ducked his head, buried his face in the crook of her neck. Steam rose up from the water, surrounding him with her scent. He breathed her in, filled his lungs with her fragrance. Beneath the swirling water, Gabe’s cock stirred, tapping against her lower back. “It doesn’t get much more personal than this, sugar.”
    “Will you tell me about your wife?”
    …
    He went completely still. Had she crossed the line?
    “You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable with it,” Beth said quickly. “It’s just…before the wedding, in the bride’s chambers, there were some women talking, and they said it was a pulmonary embolus that took her. I was just wondering if she had been ill…”
    She could feel him relax, almost a muscle at a time. After a moment, he said, “Quid pro quo?”
    This for that. Of course he would ask. She should have expected it. Beth slid her hand from his knee, fingered the faint scar on her lower abdomen. How much was she comfortable sharing with him? Other than her therapist, she hadn’t spoken about what happened between her and Jamie to anyone except her family and Connie. Unlike so many who had approached her with pity shortly after it had happened, they gave her love and support,