No complaints here.

His hands moved to my ass as I leaned down to kiss him, my breasts brushing over his chest. He moaned, his tongue stroking between my lips, his hips lifting to push up against me. I moved my body over his, sliding my clit along his thick, hard cock, feeling my underwear grow damp.

“Take them off.” His voice was low and firm.

I smiled down at him. “Fiend.”

“For you I am.”

I bit my lip. “Did you miss me last night?”

“So much I could hardly stand it.”

Shaking my head, I said, “Me too. What’s with us? Is it because the sex is so good?” Then I panicked. “I mean, it’s good for me…I hope it’s good for you.”

He spanked me lightly. “Stop. It’s amazing for me, and you know it. I can’t get enough.”

That put the grin back on my face and I swung one leg over so I could work my panties down my legs. I was so anxious to feel his cock hit The Spot I left them hanging around one ankle as I straddled him again. But he had another idea.

Shimmying down the bed until his head was between my knees, he looked up at me. “I used to lie awake at night and think about doing this to you.” He kissed one inner thigh and then the other, rubbing his scruffy cheek against the sensitive skin there before wiggling down even further and dragging his tongue up my center.

I shivered, falling forward to grip the simple wooden headboard. “Oh God, Sebastian. Your tongue is just…” But I couldn’t even find a word for it. Light and colors danced behind my closed eyelids as I dropped my head back, undulating my hips over his mouth. His arms looped over my legs, pulling me tighter to his face, and when I looked down I almost lost it at the sight of those gorgeous green eyes in the V between my legs.

“Fuck,” I breathed as he worked my clit with the tip of his tongue. “I didn’t even know enough to imagine this. I had no idea it was even possible to feel this good.” It was true—I’d been with some really good-looking guys, but somehow being incredibly handsome didn’t always correlate to being that skilled in bed. Natalie and I had a theory that slightly less attractive guys were probably better lovers because they had to work harder for it. Like she once confessed that Dan had kind of a small dick but was pretty good with his hands.

Sebastian, however, had everything.

Everything.

Including his tongue buried in my pussy.

And when the tension at my core whirled into a vortex too powerful for my body to contain, he moaned along with me as I rode out my orgasm above him, grinding unabashedly against his face.

When the spasms had stopped I moved down his body, prepared to take him in my mouth, but he deftly flipped me onto my back and pinned my wrists by my head. In the lamplight I could see his shiny lips and chin, and my insides clenched with aftershocks. He kissed me hard and deep, his mouth open wide over mine. I tasted myself and him and us and sex and it was warm and sweet and I opened my legs for him, desperate to feel him enter my body and drive us both into another mad frenzy.

He glided in easily, and I tilted my hips to take him deep. When he was buried inside, he paused and looked down at me, and I thought he was going to say something but he didn’t. He just kept his eyes on mine as he started to move, his hips rolling like ocean waves over mine. I strained up against him, pressing closer with my chest, lifting my hips.

“I missed you so much last night,” I whispered, every nerve ending in my body on fire. “I touched myself and thought of you.”

“I did the same,” he said, the muscles in his arms flexing as he braced himself above me. “Twice.”

I smiled, deliriously happy. “You win.”

• • •

I spent the weekend working for Natalie and preparing for my interview. On Saturday after work, I went over to Jillian’s condo and she helped me put together my resume and print it on good paper. I wasn’t even sure Mia Fournier would ask for it, and it wasn’t terribly impressive anyway, but at least it had some references on it and accounted for my education and the last five years of my life.

Kind of sad I only needed half a page for that stuff.

“Are you sure I should list Miranda Rivard?” I scrunched up my face when I saw her name on the test copy we’d printed.

“She said it was fine, right?” Jillian set down a cup of tea for me.

“Yeah. I guess so.” I’d called her the day before to ask her permission, and she’d said it was fine and she’d be honest about my good performance and the reason I was asked to leave. I didn’t love that second bit, but I had to list someone from Chateau Rivard if I wanted to put my time there on my resume, short-lived as it was. “What do you think?”

Jillian looked over my shoulder, sipping her tea. “Let’s go a little bigger with your name and move your contact information here.” She pointed to a different place on the page.

“OK.” It was small stuff, trivial even, but everything about the way I presented myself would be important, I knew that. After making the suggested changes, I printed it again. “Now how does it look?”

She picked it up off the printer and studied it while I got up to fetch the honey from her cupboard. I spooned some into my tea and stirred it up, then I sucked on the spoon. Oh Jesus. My tongue is sore. I laughed quietly to myself, turning my back to Jillian as I recalled the spectacular feats of fellatio I’d performed last night in the rowboat, which we’d taken out for a late night cruise.

When I turned around, Jillian was looking at me funny. “What?”

“What are you laughing about over there?”

“Nothing.” I dropped my eyes to my tea and quickly sat down again.

“That is not a nothing face. That is an I-did-something-naughty face. Trust me, I’m the big sister. I know that face of yours.”

I grinned, lifting my tea to my lips. “Guilty.”

“So?”

“I have a very sore tongue muscle today.”

Jillian’s dark, high-arched brows shot up. “You do? And how’s his tongue?”

“I’d be surprised if he can talk normally. I can barely walk normally.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned, fanning herself. “You’re so lucky. Damn.”

“I know.” I picked up the resume. “So this looks good, you think?” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spill to her, I just felt protective of what Sebastian and I had together. It was so new, and felt so fragile.

“Yes. It’s fine. I want to hear more about the guy.” She propped her chin on her hand and looked at me dreamily. “I need to live vicariously.”

“Jill. Come on. You’re beautiful. You’re a doctor. Where are all the beautiful male doctors I see on soap operas?”

She rolled her eyes. “Married. Or fucking nurses. Or fucking anyone else they want to because they’re too busy to have a relationship.” Sighing, she sat up straight again. “And I guess I am, too. It just gets a little lonely sometimes.”

“So fuck a hot doctor for fun.”

“A year or two ago, I would have. I did. But now I think I’ll hold out for something better. What about you? Is this going somewhere, you think?”

I shrugged, but couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “I don’t know. Feels like maybe.”

“Like maybe? Is there long term potential there?” She brought her cup to her lips.

I rolled my eyes. “Jillian, it’s only been like ten days. I don’t even know what he’s thinking long term for himself. And he… once said something about not believing in the one.”

Her brow wrinkled. “The one?”

“Yeah, you know. The one. The idea that there’s one perfect person for you and you have to find her or him.”

“Ah, a soul mate,” she said. “Very romantic idea. But I’m not sure it’s real, either.”

Glancing around at her clean, modern condo, I wondered if she ever pictured living here with someone else, or if she was content to live alone. “I don’t know what I believe. But I do know he sends mixed signals…when he first talked about his cabin I got the feeling he really enjoyed the solitude, but he always wants me to sleep there now, even if I have to get up crazy early for work the next morning and he has to drive me.”