Medicine Man (Page 56)

“What –?”

“Are you experiencing any discomfort? Any soreness?”

I shiver at his question. Every sore spot, every ache flares to life. Just by him asking about it in such a frank, almost clinical manner. Just by him looking at me like that. From top to bottom. His eyes lingering everywhere. On my lips, my throat, my chest, stomach, the juncture of my thighs. He travels down and pauses at every curve and every valley.

I might as well be not wearing any clothes. He might as well be touching me with his hands.

“Wh-where?”

It’s a legit question. I’m actually sore everywhere below the waist.

“Anywhere. Everywhere.”

“Well, a little. I mean, in my thighs and butt.” I’m compelled to explain, “I’m not very athletic.”

“I’m aware.”

I frown at him. “How?”

“I’ve seen you trying to touch your feet. Or was it the ground?” His lips twitch. “It was quite informative.”

I gasp and slap his chest, remembering that day outside when Renn roped me into doing stupid yoga stuff with her. It was also the day he kissed me.

Still, I say in my snottiest voice, “It’s called downward dog. And it happens to be very difficult. One of the more advanced yoga moves.”

“Is that so?”

No, I’m lying. But whatever.

I sniff. “Yes.”

Simon throws me a lopsided smile, before tipping his chin to one of the chairs. “Sit.”

I narrow my eyes at him, trying to figure out what he wants. But of course, I can’t.

Slowly I amble to the chair, but at the last minute, I change my mind and boost myself up on his desk. I sit at the edge, my eyebrows up in a challenge, my legs swinging back and forth.

His gaze is challenging too as he approaches me and fits himself between my legs. Then he leans over me and my back arches at his proximity. Still eyeing me, he picks something up from the desk.

“Here.”

I look down at his hand. There are two pills sitting in the middle of it. Both white, both tiny.

My heart starts racing at the sight of them. Is he giving them to me?

Meds are not what I’d call my friends. Well, for obvious reasons.

I hate everything about them.

Everything.

Still, I take them from his hands. I do it.

My fingers might be trembling, and I might be apprehensive but I transfer them onto my palm, whispering, “Can I have some water, please?”

His eyes turn harsh at my question. “Aren’t you going to ask what they’re for?”

I should. I really should.

But I won’t.

As much as I hate the meds, I love the man giving them to me. And I trust him. Last night was just the beginning. I’m going to show my faith in him every chance I get.

I’m going to show him that he’s perfect exactly the way he is.

I keep staring into his eyes as I shake my head. “No.”

Simon gnashes his teeth. A vein pops at his temple and I feel like he’s going to explode. But he releases a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Damn it, Willow,” he curses, exasperated. “You’re supposed to ask.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the smart thing to do. What if someone gives you something that could harm you? You’re on all kinds of drugs. What if these hurt you? What if these cause an Adverse Drug Reaction in your system? What then? Do you know how stupid it is to take something – meds, no less – from a man you don’t know?”

“I know it’s stupid. But it’s you. I do know you.”

Scoffing, he shakes his head. “You don’t.”

Why don’t you tell me?

“I know you won’t hurt me.”

Simon breathes out a long breath again, his chest puffing out in his crisp blue shirt. It goes so well with his eyes. He snatches those white monsters from my hand and holds one up. “This. Is for your pain. It’s Tylenol. It won’t react to any of the drugs you’re taking.”

Oh.

Oh God.

Why? Why did he have to go and do that?

He’s stupid, isn’t he? He has to be. He’s completely sealed his fate. He got me pills because he thought I was in pain.

How the fuck can I let him go now? And then, to grow all tight when I say I trust him? How can I not trust him?

Idiot. He’s a major idiot.

An idiot I’m irrevocably in love with.

He tries to give the pill back to me, but I don’t take it. Instead, I open my mouth and peek my tongue out. I want him to feed it to me.

His cheekbones turn dark with a flush that I find so fascinating, so alluring that I want to touch it. But I won’t. Not yet. I want him to fix my pain first. I know it’ll soothe him; he’s big on consequences.

When he places the pill on my tongue, I close my lips around his fingers and suck on them. Like I would suck on his cock. As soon as this pill business is over.

His gray eyes turn almost black, like a storm is coming and I’ll have to batten down the hatches. The poor man doesn’t know that I love the storms. They don’t scare me. And neither does he.

I let go of his fingers and he offers me a glass of water. “Drink.”

His voice is rough, and as I take a sip of water and swallow the medicine, I glance at his pants. Yup, he’s turned on. Hard and ripe for me.

When I’m done, I give him back the glass and swing my legs back and forth, biting my lip.

His puff of breath is both frustrated and turned on. Then he picks up the other pill. “And this… you know what this is for?”

I shake my head.

My ignorance doesn’t help with the tightness of his features and body. I wish I could take away his frustration with my touch but he clearly has something to say and a point to make. So I’m being good and listening to him.

“This is the morning-after pill,” he almost snaps.

And my breath hitches. I stop swinging my legs.

Finally, he’s happy with my reaction. I can see that. His eyes look satisfied with that fearful hiccup in my breath. “You know why you have to take this?”

I grab the end of the table to keep myself from sagging. The fullness that I’ve been feeling ever since I got up in the morning acts up now. It’s much worse, much more potent, alive, as I relive those moments from last night.

I’m reliving every stroke, every ridge and groove of his cock as it slid in and out of my snug channel. He was bare inside me.

“B-because we didn’t… I…”

Finally, he touches me. He puts both his hands on my waist and hauls me even closer. “Because you drive me so crazy, you tempt me so fucking much that I forgot the condom. I didn’t even think about it.”

I see him coming on my untamed curls and my stomach, and I swear I can still feel his cum on there.

“But you came on my… You came outside.”

Groaning, he fists the fabric of my t-shirt. “Yeah. And that’s because I’m sick. I wanted to see my cum spray on your cunt. I wanted to brand you.”

His words make me arch my back and show off my heavy, engorged tits to him. “Oh. I d-didn’t…”

“Do you know when I realized I fucked up?” He swallows. “When I woke up with your blood on my cock.”

A tiny whimper escapes me, and I grip his biceps. “I woke up with blood on my thighs too. And your cum. Dried up on my tummy.”

His forehead is resting on mine and I can feel his words on my mouth when he says, “Do you know what happens when a man comes inside you, Willow? Do you know what will happen if I fill your pussy with my cum?”