Romancing the Doctor Page 6

  Reluctantly, he pulled back, letting out a long sigh. He wanted everything she was offering, but he wasn’t going to let her be in charge this time. They were taking it slow, and if he went into that room, there would be nothing slow about what happened next.

  “Are you free tomorrow?” He kissed her forehead.

  “I’m off, yeah.”

  “Do you want to do this again?”

  She looked up at him and smirked. “Are you going to leave me high and dry again?”

  “Probably. I want you to want me in your bed.” He flashed his mischievous smile at her.

  “Don’t worry, I want you there pretty bad right now.” She tried to pull him close to her.

  “Me, as in Holden? Or just some cock with no name?” He watched anger overtake her at his words.

  “Are you calling me a whore?” she demanded, now pushing him away.

  “What? No, Dylan, but I want to be more than a cock for you to ride whenever you have the urge.” He kept her caged against the wall, not letting her storm away from him like she usually did.

  “I think we both enjoyed that,” she spat out.

  He tried to soothe her by softening his tone. “Getting off and enjoying are two different things. I want to enjoy my time with you, not just get off.”

  “I thought you wanted to romance me?” she said in a mocking voice.

  “I want you to see that having an orgasm isn’t all there is to sex. I want you looking into my eyes as you come and have you screaming my name. Because you know it.” He let her push him away this time. She could have her way…for now.

  “Aren’t you old enough to know that sex is just sex, Captain? That foreplay is just the fluff you don’t need?” She stopped at her door and shot back at him.

  “When you’re ready to for actual sex, Dylan, I’m going to fluff the hell out of you. And you’ll be begging for more.” He watched her roll her eyes at him and close her door behind her.

  It wasn’t exactly the ending to the great night he was looking for, but now she knew the rules. And now, he was more excited to “fluff” with her than anything he had done in a long time.

  “So, you’ve been dating this guy for three weeks now, and I’m having more sex than you even though my man is on the other side of the planet?” Elissa stated in disbelief.

  Sadly, it was true. Every day she had off, he was there for a date, which included him bringing gifts and them sharing a meal at the canteen, which was the most unromantic place ever created.

  The gifts ranged from semi-melted candy bars to socks, which is what he gave her on their last date. Oddly, they were actual socks, not Army-issued ones. Dylan was seeing that he was running out of things to give her but wasn’t giving up on the “romance her to death” part of their dating.

  And all she really wanted was a good old-fashioned roll in the hay. Okay, not too old-fashioned, because she was horny as hell. Every date ended with him kissing her until she was panting and wanting more. Then he would walk away, leaving her frustrated.

  In reality, she should just stop with the dating thing; it was weird. She was almost forty, beyond the dating scene, but for some reason, she got excited and couldn’t not go out with him.

  The fact that he was Marquez’s brother rarely crossed her mind anymore. Maybe it was because he was older than her husband had ever been or that they didn’t resemble each other very much. Or, she hated to admit, that maybe it was because she was ready to move on with her life, and that her young love was a long time ago.

  “I guess we’re taking it slowly,” Dylan said as she tried to concentrate on the chart in front of her, or more importantly, ignore Elissa.

  “Did you tell him this a war zone? You can’t take it slowly!” Elissa sounded as frustrated as she felt.

  “Nope, since he’s actually seeing the war, I thought it would be rude.” She closed the file to give her friend her full attention.

  “Did you ask to see his battle scars?” Elissa said, straight-faced.

  “You mean the one six inches from his penis?” she asked, wondering if it would work.

  “I thought it was seven?” Elissa grinned at her, knowing it was closer than either of them guessed.

  “No, I haven’t, even though I have a professional interest in how it’s healing.”

  “You do! I mean, you have to make sure the stitches healed properly. And what about infection? You shouldn’t be taking chances on that.” Elissa cracked a smile.

  “I think six weeks is maybe too long to be requesting a look-see.” And that was actually her professional opinion.

  “Should we make a bet that I have sex again before you? And I have to spend three more weeks here, then fly for twenty-four hours to get it,” Elissa complained, as if another day of waiting would kill her.

  “I don’t need a countdown calendar like you sent Todd. If it happens, it happens. If not, oh well.” She shrugged.

  “Don’t ‘oh well’ me. You are a horny woman. You need to just tackle that man, unless…” Elissa eyed her closely, too closely.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “You’re enjoying the romance! His corny gifts and make-out sessions are working!” Elissa danced with excitement.

  “I am not,” she argued, but it was true, she was loving it. But who wouldn’t love a guy who gave her one of his shirts to sleep in so she’d think of him? And she had a notebook full of pictures of flowers, drawn in black pen that had no color to them at all. He mailed them all the time.

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire. I love it, Dr. No Commitment is falling for this guy.”

  “Not falling, just enjoying it, okay!”

  “What’s the worst thing that could happen if you actually fell for him? I think you two are cute together.”

  Dylan gave her a flat stare. “I’m like a decade older than him.”

  “Who cares? He doesn’t.”

  “I am never stateside.”

  “But you could be; you’ve put in your time. And you can come back when he does. You could make it work. Others do.”

  “His parents hate me,” she countered. It was an obstacle they wouldn’t overcome.

  “How would you know? Do you know his parents? Did you know him before?” Elissa stopped pacing and looked at her intently.

  “Whoops.” She rubbed her face with her hands. Six weeks had gone by, and she hadn’t told her friend the truth.

  “Whoops, what?” Elissa pulled her hands off her face.

  “Holden is Chase’s younger brother. His parents hated me when we were married.”

  “You slept with your husband's brother?” Elissa’s eyes were huge as she asked.

  “I told you we aren’t sleeping together,” she said lamely. Was she actually whining?

  “Yeah, except for that first time. Holy cow, his brother. Are they alike? In the sack, I mean?” Elissa leaned closer to her, eyebrows shooting higher with every question.

  “Oddly, they’re completely different. Or maybe it’s that Holden grew up and Marquez never got to. I usually don’t remember they’re brothers,” she admitted

  “So, you knew him? All this time, and you never told me?” Elissa demanded.

  “He was sixteen when Marquez died, and I was not invited to anything but the burial. At the time, I wasn’t exactly scoping out the guys there.”

  “You’re right, you’re right. I couldn’t date Todd’s brother, though. He’s an ass.”

  “Don’t date him then,” Dylan stated, smirking.

  Elissa gave her the finger. “Why didn’t Mr. Marquez’s parents like you?”

  “Because my magic pussy kept their son from going home after basic training.” She winked at her.

  “Ohhh, and now the magic pussy might lead another astray.” Elissa giggled.

  “No, this is just fun for now. One of us will get transferred, and then it’ll be over. There’s no future.”

  “Blah, blah, blah. There’s no future because you don’t want one. He’s proven that you can
’t control him, and you hate that.”

  “I like a little bit of organization in my life! Chaos is not enjoyable.”

  “Yes, it is. All you have to do is let loose a little. Chaos is the spice of life.”

  “I thought the spice of life was variety?”

  “Variety is just another word for chaos.”

  “Completely different,” she argued as they headed out for the day. Their shift was over, and it was time for a few hours of sleep before another date with Holden. She didn’t want to admit that she was really looking forward to it.

  Elissa stopped off and grabbed something to eat at the canteen, letting Dylan walk alone back to the barracks. It was already hot, and the sun had barely risen. She knew Holden was out on a mission today, and she hoped he was okay. She hated that his job was dangerous, but he was a soldier.

  Inside the semi-cooled building, she stopped and grabbed her mail, something she had grown to enjoy since Holden had started mailing her little things all the time. Every day she got a letter, nothing big or great, but a little something to remind her he was thinking of her.

  Opening the box, she pulled out three envelopes: two from Holden since she had worked for twenty-four hours, and one from Janet. Flipping it to the back of the pile, she opened Holden’s letter from the day before. It was a thinking of you card, written on plan notebook paper. Nothing fancy, but it made her smile. Opening the next one, she saw it was a long, lengthy letter. Shoving it back in the envelope, she cursed herself—she had opened Janet’s letter by mistake.

  After twenty years, she still didn’t open those, it didn’t matter how many Janet sent. What happened was in the past, and there was nothing the woman could say to make it all better.

  Janet had chosen which of her children she was going to love long before Dylan then, but she had proved what she really thought of her firstborn that year. It still churned her stomach to think about those days.

  Janet had always known that Jesse was abusive; she had left him because of it just a few years before. For years, the woman had hidden behind the facade of being a perfect corporate wife by not showing the world the bruises that Jesse caused to her and their two children.

  But still, she was willing to send a seventeen-year-old to live full time with the man again. To face beating after beating, all because of Janet’s precious Jenna had told her sister was hitting her.

  Janet herself would never lift a hand against her own children, but she allowed someone else to. She even dropped Dylan off for it and left her there.

  Dylan had spent four months in the hell that was her father's house; four months of abuse. Her only option had been to run off and join the Army—her mother was done with her, and Dylan couldn’t take it anymore.

  How Janet had found out she had joined up, she didn’t know, but the woman was persistent. Every month or so, she sent another letter. Was she apologizing? Was she asking her to come home? Dylan had no idea because she never, ever read them, even though she couldn’t bring herself to throw them out. She even carried the box across the world with her.

  Janet almost always had Dylan’s correct mailing address, so she must have been calling to get that information. When her father had died three years after Marquez, her CO had talked to her mother and told Janet that Dylan would not be going home for the funeral. At the time, she was on her first tour in Iraq, and she didn’t need to see that man dead. He was already dead to her years before.

  Her CO had told her that her mom had cried and begged for information about her daughter, but it was all classified. Thankfully, he hadn’t told the woman her new name, that she had been married, or even what she was doing in the Army. Dylan was sure her mom thought she was just a soldier.

  It had been her mother who had laughed when she said she wanted to be a nurse, telling her that she just didn’t see Dylan being able to do that. Dylan had become a doctor just to prove the woman wrong.

  In her room, she slipped the unread letter into the box in her closet. Stripping off most of her clothes, she climbed into bed and opened Holden’s second letter to her. It was a drawing of a teddy bear, and in nearly unreadable writing on the bottom, he said he won the bear at a carnival for her. Ring toss, apparently.

  Looking at the picture, she let sleep overtake her as she wondered what it would be like to actually go to a carnival with him. He would win all the games, she was sure of it, and she would hate all the people around.

  Chapter 13

  His hope of catching her before she got completely dressed for their date was a success based on her wet, loose hair and untucked shirt. Grinning at her not-perfectness as he walked into the room, he knew she was a little mad he was early. Over the weeks, he had come at precisely 5:15 p.m. on the dot. Today he was ten minutes early, which had rattled her completely, and he loved it when she was rattled.

  “You’re early,” she sounded flustered as she started tucking in her shirt.

  Grabbing the shirt, he pulled her to him for a kiss. Nothing earth-shattering; just a peck to tell her he missed her. Pushing her hands away from the hem of her shirt, he said an inch from her lip, “Leave it, Dyl, you look sexy like this.”

  Her grin was worth it when she replied, “You’ve been in the desert too long, Captain, if you think this is sexy.”

  “Holden.” He always corrected her, and so far, she had yet to say his actual name. “I could be in the middle of Times Square on New Year’s Eve and see you as sexy right now.”

  When she tried to protest again, he kissed her, not wanting to listen to her belittle herself. Since they’d started dating, he’d heard from her mouth every little demeaning thing anyone had said about her, only now it was coming from her.

  Everything thing that wasn’t Dylan the doctor or Dylan the surgeon never measured up to what Dylan expected of herself. She didn’t eat healthy enough, run far enough, or sleep long enough. And apparently, her eyes were asymmetrical, her nose wasn’t straight enough, and her legs were short.

  What she never talked about was the scar that ran along her jaw or the one that cut across her lower lip, or why she had gotten her tattoos or who caused the scars on her back. Also included in that was anything that happened when she was growing up or married to his brother. All of that had been cut off from their conversations.

  It was like they were sneaking around behind Chase’s back. It felt like he was back in the States waiting for them to get home, not knowing that they had taken a step they shouldn’t have. But every time he kissed her neck, he saw the chain that still held the ring that said Holden was not his brother.

  “I have to get ready.” She pushed back from him, as if she knew his brother was on his mind.

  “No, you don’t. We’re having a picnic today.”

  “You do realize it is over a hundred degrees out there, right?” She glanced at the window that the sun was still beating into.

  “Yes, and that’s why we’ll eat in here.” He waved a hand at the room.

  “Where? There’s no room.” She looked around skeptically.

  Without answering, he grabbed the blanket off her bed and laid it on the floor. Though there was only five square feet of space, it was enough. After the blanket was placed, he grabbed the bag of food he had brought from the hallway and happily set it in the middle of the blanket.

  Her eyes still said she wasn’t buying it, that this wasn’t what she considered a picnic, but the set of her mouth said she was willing to go with it…for him.

  Holden quickly took off his shirt, leaving the T-shirt that matched hers, then took off his socks and shoes. They were a matching set as he took her hand and led her to the blanket.

  “Supper awaits.” He grinned when she sat on the blanket and arranged himself next to her, a bit too close because she tried to move away from him, but he put his arm around her and she stopped.

  “What did you bring?” she asked, eyeing the bag, but not reaching for it. As always, this was his thing, and she was along for the ride.

&
nbsp; “Look and see.” He kissed her temple and wished she could get excited about things, wishing her control could be broken.

  Leaning forward, she opened the bag and peered inside. With a crinkled nose she said, “I thought it would be fried chicken.”

  “Why?” He had no idea she even liked fried chicken; she always had a salad.

  “In the movies, people always have fried chicken at their picnics,” she answered with a shrug, then reached in and pulled out the cold sandwiches and salads he brought.

  “How about I get chicken the next time we have a picnic where there’s grass?”

  “No need. I don’t even really like fried chicken.” She laughed. “Can you imagine how many calories are in it?”

  “No, and I won't. Food is for eating, not analyzing.” He gave her a ham sandwich, which she set down in front of her.

  “Says the hot guy who doesn’t have to fight every pound from invasion.” She took out the salads from the bag.

  “Hot guy, huh?” he teased her and watched her blush. It was so rare that she did, and he loved that he’d made it happen.

  “Like you don’t know. I bet you have a woman in every city, ex’s all over the place, and every other woman swooning at your feet.” She tossed the plastic silverware at him, then handed him a plate.

  “Nope.” He grinned and pushed all the food away, pulling her onto his lap as he leaned back against her bed. Dylan shifted around so that she was straddling him and slowly raked her fingers through his hair, smiling as she did.

  Though he had a few girlfriends over the years, none had lasted more than a few weeks before he got bored with them. He was starting to think this was his longest relationship yet.

  Without a word, he ran his hands up her sides and under her shirt, splaying his hands on the bare skin of her back. She was completely still as his hands trailed over her body, but he didn’t move toward her breasts even though he longed to caress them again.

  “What are you doing?” her voice was as breathless as he felt.

  “Looking for these pounds that you keep talking about. Just as I suspected, they’re all in your head.” He forced his hands from her body, because if he didn’t, he’d be fucking her within minutes—and she wouldn’t have stopped it.