Going Down_A Sexy Romantic Comedy Page 6

  His nostrils flare as he lifts his head from the wall to look closer. “Pretty,” he murmurs.

  My breathing is so rough it feels like sand in the back of my throat. “The least you can do is even up the playing field.”

  His gaze returns to my face as he shakes his head. “No way, Doc. I want to be inside you too fucking much to take my jeans off without a condom in sight.”

  I am both crushingly disappointed and incredibly empowered by his admission of barely-restrained desire. The thought undulates through my belly, and I arch a little and squirm to relieve the sudden contraction. A low kind of whimper slips from my lips, and he sucks in a breath.

  “You want it too, don’t you?”

  I want him inside me more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I nod my head, surprisingly not embarrassed to admit my need is as desperate as his.

  “You want me to fuck you?”

  I exhale a shaky breath. “Yes.”

  “You want to feel my cock sliding into you?” His voice is as husky as mine.

  God, yes. I want him filling me up. “Yes.” I press my thighs together tight as his words stroke like fingers against my clitoris.

  “Fuck.” Danny groans as his head thunks back against the wall. He regards me with half-closed lids as if he’s trying to figure out how he can make it work. He glances down into Bob’s tool bag. “There’s not a condom in there. Trust me, I looked. Although there are plenty of dick substitutes. Who needs sex shops when you have a tool bag?”

  My breath catches at the thought of Danny pulling out some kind of phallic tool and using it on me. My eyes widen at such a shocking thought, and I press my thighs together harder as I scrub it from my mind.

  But Danny has already heard that catch. How could he not? It’s silent in the elevator apart from the odd creak and our heavy breathing. His gaze zeroes in on mine like a heat-seeking missile, suddenly intense.

  Did it get stuffier in here all of a sudden or has my breathing become so syrupy it’s clogging my airways?

  He raises his eyebrow slightly. “Ahhh…”

  He drops his gaze to the pile of items he pulled from Bob’s bag earlier. His fingers search through it and I follow the action. “There is this.”

  My heart trips in my chest as Danny holds up a screwdriver, still in its packaging. It has a large, black, bulbous handle, decorated with long grooves—for better grip, I suppose. It’s not as big or thick as what Danny’s packing in those jeans, but…

  The sound of plastic tearing streaks through my abdomen like a bolt of lightning and my eyes are drawn to the tool Danny is holding in his hands. He grips it around the shiny, metallic shaft but it’s the handle that has his attention.

  And mine.

  “Ridged for her pleasure.” He smiles as he lets it fall into the palm of his opposite hand. I can tell from the dull thud it has some weight to it and things get a little wetter between my legs.

  “So, Doc.” His gaze returns to mine. “Can you handle a screwdriver?

  My words from earlier—dear god, was it only a few hours ago?—come back to haunt me. “I—” Whatever I’m about to say gets stuck in my throat. I’m torn between rejection of such an act and utter fascination.

  “Let me show you what you’ve been missing out on in the dildo department.” Thud. “Think of it as a try-before-you-buy experience.” Thud. “I promise to be gentle.” He mimics my words again as the thudding of the handle mimics my heartbeat.

  How can I be so appalled and yet so freaking turned on by what Danny’s proposing? I’ve never done anything so outrageous. I work in an ER. How many cases of sexual misadventure have I doctored to? But not even the prospect of ending up in my own emergency department with a screwdriver stuck in my pussy is enough to stem my fascination.

  “Come on, Holly. Live a little. Say yes.”

  My name on his lips shivers down my spine and it sounds so damn good, I’d grant him just about anything in this moment.

  I blink. “Yes.”

  He smiles, big and slow, and I’m surprised the entire elevator isn’t vibrating to the pound of my heart as he pushes the tool bag off his lap and once again prowls towards me, panther-like. He stops as he draws close, unfurling himself from all fours to settle on his side next to me.

  His body presses along the length of mine as he props his head up with one hand and holds the screwdriver in the other, his gaze fanning over my face. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers and even though I’ve never felt beautiful, the way he’s looking at me right now, I feel it.

  He makes me feel it.

  “Do you trust me?”

  Is it strange to admit I do? A guy with tats and nose rings I barely knew a few hours ago is holding a rather large screwdriver with the express intent of using it on my body. In my body. As a sex aid. For sexual pleasure. And not just mine, I suspect…

  It’s bizarre, but I do trust him. I would never have let him do what he’s already done if I didn’t. “Yes.”

  He nods like it’s a given, but his gaze locks on mine and it’s warm and blue and sincere and I feel immersed in trust. Slowly, he lowers the handle of the screwdriver to my chest. I gasp as it lands, soft but solid against my sternum. My breathing cuts out, my nipples peak. My heart kicks so hard, I’m amazed the tool isn’t bouncing to the frantic rhythm.

  “Breathe, Doc,” Danny whispers as he lowers his head and nuzzles just under my ear.

  I suck in a ragged breath, both at the prickle of his beard and the roll of the handle as it heads to one erect nipple, flattening back and forth over the top several times. I gasp at the unfamiliar sensation, arch my back. He reverses the process, the handle moving to the other nipple. The erotic press combines with the buzz of anticipation, and I whimper out loud.

  “Easy, Doc,” he murmurs, his breath hot in my ear, his voice a low rumble. Goose bumps prickle my scalp and down my neck.

  He lifts his head as the handle moves south. I watch its progress as it bisects my abdomen. He watches too, the rasp in his breathing a hot flurry against my skin. He runs the blunt end around my belly button, and I squirm as my rectus abdominis contract before the screwdriver is dragged lower.

  Everything clenches tight in my pelvis as it continues its slide. My hands grip the duvet and cling tight. I hear the faint rustle as it slides through the light sprinkling of hair covering my mons before the blunt weight finds the slick groove between my lips and nestles there right over my clitoris.

  Danny presses it a little harder against me and I moan, squeezing everything tight inside me. I’m so turned on, so close to the edge now, I’m petrified it’ll all be over before the main act.

  He turns his head and our eyes meet. His lips are parted, his pupils dilated. “Spread ’em, Doc.”

  I’m so caught up in the anticipation and sensations, I haven’t even realized my thighs are still squeezed together. I swallow hard and ease my trembling, jellified legs apart. I’m so slippery now the screwdriver slides down of its own accord, naturally notching itself at my entrance.

  “Jesus, Holly.” The way he breathes my name like that, like a benediction, kicks my arousal up another level. “You’re so fucking wet.” His nostrils flare and I pant, conscious of the blunt press of the handle between my legs. “You ready?”

  I nod at his hoarse enquiry. He could be about to push in the pointy end and I’d be ready.

  He watches me intently. “So with a dildo, you can just push it in—” I moan as he does just that, my eyes going wide as the handle breaches my opening and Danny advances it slowly, slowly, all the way inside me.

  “God, Holly.” He groans and presses a row of kisses down my neck. “You should see your face.” He pulls away to watch me some more as he continues my lesson. “And you can pull it out again.” He pulls it out and I gasp and grip the sheets harder. “Then back in again.” It goes in a little quicker this time and I swear I feel the first low pulse tighten around the hardness of the handle.

  “In and out,” he says as he
performs the action, his voice so rough and low I almost come from that alone. “In and out. Like the real thing. Or—”

  He pushes the handle right up and I moan as my internal muscles respond in the most primal way, gripping it hard. He removes his hand from the shaft, slides it up my body, his tats undulating with the movement. He reaches my hand then brings them both down together, guiding our fingers to the swollen slickness between my legs, until we’re both touching the hard knot of nerves. I’m so sensitive there I cry out as he presses my finger against it.

  “You leave it in,” he whispers, his mouth closing in on mine, his blue eyes so hypnotic, “fantasize that it’s my cock inside you because I know it’s always going to be my cock you fantasize about now, isn’t it, Holly?”

  “Yes.” I gasp as my clitoris starts to pulse. Danny has ruined me for all other men.

  “Good,” he mutters. “And then you touch yourself over and over, just like you did before, until you come.”

  Over and over? Dear God, it wasn’t going to be that long. I’m already starting to come apart, my core pulling tighter, soaking me in pleasure from the inside out and when he kisses me I lick into his mouth, tasting chocolate, and he groans and I’m gone as our fingers tag-team over my clitoris this time, much more intense than when it was just me. There’s something about Danny’s fingers that are perfect for the job. Rough to my smooth, thick to my slender, decorative to my plain. Finessed to my fumbling.

  And so damn knowing, like how they suddenly slide down from my clitoris to the shaft of the screwdriver. He pulls it out and I pant in surprise against his lips, then I moan and kiss him deep as he pushes it in again, kissing him deeper and deeper as he drills me with it, slowly at first then faster. Harder.

  Over and over the grooves of the shaft hit just the right spot on the inside as my fingers work from the outside until my body flares in one bright, blinding flash. I gasp at the sudden violent clench of my walls around the unyielding hardness of the handle wedged high and tight inside me. Pleasure bursts like popping candy from deep inside my pelvis and I cry out, my hand slipping from my clitoris as my body shudders through a pleasure so violent I’m not sure I’ll survive it.

  “Jesus, Doc, you’re hot when you come,” Danny whispers in my ear as he hammers me with the screwdriver. “I can’t decide what I want more right now. To fuck you or to eat you.”

  His words push me higher and I hold on for as long as I can, clinging to Danny and the pleasure until it starts to tail away and I’m left panting and limp in its wake.

  When I’m finally still, he slowly withdraws the makeshift dildo. I shiver as it slides from the clutch of my body and he gathers me close. He kisses my forehead and we just lie there in the aftermath. I have about a minute’s grace before I hear clanging and banging and voices.

  “That’ll be the cavalry,” he announces.

  And in an instant everything changes.

  Twenty minutes later we’ve walked up four flights of stairs to Danny’s floor. We haven’t spoken on the way up, and I don’t know what to say now as I try not to be the person I was before getting in the elevator and having my world rocked.

  I guess I knew there’d be a reckoning, but I didn’t count on it being this brutal. What the hell had I been thinking?

  “Why don’t you come back to my place?” He glances down the corridor in the direction of his apartment. “The blizzard’s still raging out there.”

  It’s a tantalizing idea and I allow myself the luxury of it for a beat or two before I pull myself back from the edge. “I need to sleep. I have to study later.”

  He shrugs. “You can study at my place.”

  I almost laugh out loud at that. If I go to his place, we’re both going to be naked in seconds. I’m pretty sure my clothes are just going to fall off every time I see him from now on.

  Best to just not see him.

  What happened in the elevator was amazing, but I can’t afford the luxury of long days and nights in bed with Danny. I don’t have enough spare time for me, let alone him.

  “Look…it was nice, but…”

  He winces. “Nice?”

  I think about the screwdriver. Yeah, okay. It was a lot of things—nice wasn’t one of them. “I’m sorry, I just don’t have time in my life for—”

  “Dalliances.”

  I half-smile. “Right.”

  “We’ll see.” He smiles that irritatingly cocky smile, and I remember why I’ve kept my distance all this time.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I think you’re going to miss me.”

  Okay, so we’re back to words of one syllable again. “You’re not part of my plan, Danny.”

  “And that’s what? Become an ER hotshot, marry a surgeon, live in the burbs in a fancy house, two point four kids. No screwing building supers.”

  God. He makes it sound so…dull. “At the moment I’ll settle for passing my residency.”

  He smiles and he’s that laidback guy again. “Fair enough. Go to bed. I’ll fix your heating.”

  “Thank you. Be careful on the stairs,” I add because I don’t want him breaking his neck.

  “I will. And you know where I am if you need more of what I can give you.”

  I grit my teeth at his arrogance at the same time my toes curl in my Uggs. “I won’t.”

  He just raises an eyebrow and turns away, completely unperturbed by my denial. His ass draws my gaze because I’m female with a pulse. Heat floods my face as I spy the screwdriver shoved in his back pocket. It’s morbidly fascinating and I can’t unglue my gaze from it.

  He looks over his shoulder at me and grins, his dimples flashing. Like he knows I was going to be staring after him. Like he knows I’ll be knocking on his door for more of what he can give me.

  I harden my resolve not to. And throw up a little prayer for strength. No screwing building supers, Holly. Get a grip.

  6

  DANNY

  My forearm throbs under the temporary bandage I’ve wrapped around it. Not as much as my dick throbs, though, as I cross the parking lot to the All Saints ER. It’s been bitching at me for the past week—since the elevator—and now it’s happy as a fucking clam.

  No. I didn’t deliberately cut myself just for an excuse to see Holly again. I can walk up a flight of steps and do that if I want. But I was thinking about her as I picked up the shards of glass off the barroom floor instead of concentrating on what I was doing and fell ass-over into the middle of the mess when someone from behind gave me an accidental nudge.

  I’ve been doing that a lot this past week. So I don’t have anyone else to blame for cutting myself. It’s actually not that bad, despite the bar owner’s cold sweat over a potential lawsuit. It could probably do with a few stitches, but I’ve had worse.

  Normally, I wouldn’t bother anyone with it—just tape it up and leave it for a few days. But the universe just handed me a perfect excuse to bother Holly and I take it with both hands even if it is two in the morning.

  It’s a relief to finally walk inside the hospital. The blizzard may have blown itself out days ago, but it’s still as cold as fuck and even after a decade of living in Hardrock I haven’t got used to how the winter air stabs like icicles in my lungs. A blast of heat at the entrance doors welcomes me, and I unzip my parker with my good hand.

  I follow the signs that say triage, the antiseptic smell of the place enveloping me. It seems quiet to my untrained eye. It’s early hours of the morning, I suppose, but I figure the time of day doesn’t matter a whole lot in an ER.

  I come to a desk, and there’s an efficient looking black woman, mid-thirties, at a computer in a pair of scrubs. Her name tags tells me she’s Trudy. I smile at her, which is usually guaranteed to melt most women—Holly being the exception. This woman too, apparently, as she looks me up and down, obviously not impressed.

  I suppress a laugh. They breed them ornery here at All Saints.

  “How can I help?”

&n
bsp; I know instinctively if I present my arm I’ll probably spend half the night in the chairs, so I keep my injury below the raised ledge of the desk. “I’d like to see Doctor Vincent.”

  I know she’s working tonight. She left just before me in her regular work clothes, her stethoscope hanging from her fingers.

  “And who might you be might be?”

  “Danny. Colton. I’m a neighbor. She’ll want to see me.”

  That’s a lie. I have no idea whether she’ll see me or not, but I’m hoping she will. I hope she considers the hospital neutral ground for us. I hope she’s as desperate as I am for more than a glimpse.

  “Why don’t we let Doctor Vincent be the judge of that?” Trudy picks up a phone, her eyes firmly trained on me. “There’s a guy called Danny Colton, says he’s your neighbor, asking for you.”

  The woman nods twice then puts the phone back on the cradle. She nods her head in the direction of some doors and says, “Go through.”

  I smile at Trudy, who ignores me, but I barely register the snub as I start towards the doors. I push them as I get near enough and they open into a large space with a central work station lapped by a bunch of mostly-empty gurneys parked in bays around the perimeter of the room. The lights are dim and there’s not a lot of bustle going on here.

  “Danny?”

  I turn to find Holly coming at me from a dark corridor. She’s in scrubs, her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, and her stethoscope, which is slung around her neck now, swings a little against her tits as she strides closer.

  It’s hot as fuck. She’s hot as fuck, all capable and confident. In the elevator, she’d been in my domain, totally out of her depth. Here, the shoe is on the other foot. She’s the one in charge, she’s the boss, and my cock roars to life again.

  Not even her frowny face has an effect. She’s obviously annoyed at my presence but goddamn if that’s not a turn-on too. She’s the perfect woman right now—sexy, pissed off, powerful.

  I want inside those scrubs so fucking hard.