into another world when she came, and he wanted to send her there again and again.
"I want to feel you come, Nick," she whispered.
He nearly lost control at that, but managed to hold back. “Not yet. I want to watch you get off again." He punctuated this by withdrawing almost completely, then working himself back in, millimeter by millimeter, until he wasn't sure which one of them he was tormenting.
Kelly gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, her body going unnaturally still. Placing her hands around his hips, she blew out all of her breath. Then suddenly her lower abs started moving—undulating, really—in a slow, steady rhythm. His eyes involuntarily closed at the sensation. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, like a firm, slick fist was kneading him from inside her body. Her hand came down to cup his testicles, cradling them gently in her fingers.
In seconds he was coming, his body jerking helplessly against her. He was wrung out, sucked dry as he collapsed on the mattress beside her.
"What the hell was that?" he gasped when he could finally breathe again. He forced his eyes open through sheer willpower.
Her full lips formed a sly cat-that-ate-the-cream smile. “Yoga," she said matter-of-factly. "I always wondered if that would work."
"Work? It almost fucking killed me."
She tucked her hands behind her head in exaggerated triumph. Her smile was an adorable combination of shyness and smug satisfaction. He rolled over on his back and pulled her against him, tucking her head snugly under his chin.
"Feel better now?" he murmured, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.
"I feel like a million bucks," she sighed. "From now on I know exactly who to come to when I'm in a bad mood."
"At your service." His fingers toyed with her hair, combing through the thick strands. The fresh smell of her shampoo teased his nose, and he buried his nose and inhaled deeply.
"I probably smell like French fries," she laughed.
"You smell great," he insisted. "All fresh and girly."
"Somehow I doubt it. That was the one thing I always hated about working at the pub." Her fingers idly played in his chest hair as she spoke. "At the end of my shift I could never seem to get the grease smell off my skin and hair, no matter how hard I scrubbed." She pulled a hank of hair to her nose. "Some things never change."
They were silent a few minutes. He should leave. But it felt so great just to hold her in the near darkness, their hands idly exploring naked skin, that he couldn't remember why it was so imperative to go home. "It must be pretty boring being back here, after living in a big city for so long."
"You'd think," she said, propping herself up on his chest so she could see his face. "It's strange. When I graduated from high school, I couldn't wait to go to college somewhere where I wasn't such a freak."
Her brows drew together in a frown that Nick couldn't resist tracing with a finger. "But then I got to Yale, and I was still the freak. Except now I was a freak in a dirty, ugly city where I didn't know anyone. I actually missed this place."
"Do you still miss it?"
"Sometimes. But in a big city, even if I strike people as unusual, I'm not as conspicuous as I was here."
"So people still treat you like you're different?"
"Occasionally. Sometimes patients are surprised when they realize I'm the attending when I barely look old enough to have graduated." One side of her mouth curled in a rueful smile. "But since it's the ER and they're usually freaking out about something else, they tend to overlook my age."
"It must have been hard, being on your own so young." Had she really only been fifteen when she left? Even as he'd always been conscious of how much younger she'd been, in some ways she'd also seemed mature beyond her years. But still, it was difficult to imagine any fifteen-year-old being able to handle moving across the country to live on her own.
"I was used to being alone by then. It's not like I had hordes of
"I want to feel you come, Nick," she whispered.
He nearly lost control at that, but managed to hold back. “Not yet. I want to watch you get off again." He punctuated this by withdrawing almost completely, then working himself back in, millimeter by millimeter, until he wasn't sure which one of them he was tormenting.
Kelly gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, her body going unnaturally still. Placing her hands around his hips, she blew out all of her breath. Then suddenly her lower abs started moving—undulating, really—in a slow, steady rhythm. His eyes involuntarily closed at the sensation. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, like a firm, slick fist was kneading him from inside her body. Her hand came down to cup his testicles, cradling them gently in her fingers.
In seconds he was coming, his body jerking helplessly against her. He was wrung out, sucked dry as he collapsed on the mattress beside her.
"What the hell was that?" he gasped when he could finally breathe again. He forced his eyes open through sheer willpower.
Her full lips formed a sly cat-that-ate-the-cream smile. “Yoga," she said matter-of-factly. "I always wondered if that would work."
"Work? It almost fucking killed me."
She tucked her hands behind her head in exaggerated triumph. Her smile was an adorable combination of shyness and smug satisfaction. He rolled over on his back and pulled her against him, tucking her head snugly under his chin.
"Feel better now?" he murmured, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.
"I feel like a million bucks," she sighed. "From now on I know exactly who to come to when I'm in a bad mood."
"At your service." His fingers toyed with her hair, combing through the thick strands. The fresh smell of her shampoo teased his nose, and he buried his nose and inhaled deeply.
"I probably smell like French fries," she laughed.
"You smell great," he insisted. "All fresh and girly."
"Somehow I doubt it. That was the one thing I always hated about working at the pub." Her fingers idly played in his chest hair as she spoke. "At the end of my shift I could never seem to get the grease smell off my skin and hair, no matter how hard I scrubbed." She pulled a hank of hair to her nose. "Some things never change."
They were silent a few minutes. He should leave. But it felt so great just to hold her in the near darkness, their hands idly exploring naked skin, that he couldn't remember why it was so imperative to go home. "It must be pretty boring being back here, after living in a big city for so long."
"You'd think," she said, propping herself up on his chest so she could see his face. "It's strange. When I graduated from high school, I couldn't wait to go to college somewhere where I wasn't such a freak."
Her brows drew together in a frown that Nick couldn't resist tracing with a finger. "But then I got to Yale, and I was still the freak. Except now I was a freak in a dirty, ugly city where I didn't know anyone. I actually missed this place."
"Do you still miss it?"
"Sometimes. But in a big city, even if I strike people as unusual, I'm not as conspicuous as I was here."
"So people still treat you like you're different?"
"Occasionally. Sometimes patients are surprised when they realize I'm the attending when I barely look old enough to have graduated." One side of her mouth curled in a rueful smile. "But since it's the ER and they're usually freaking out about something else, they tend to overlook my age."
"It must have been hard, being on your own so young." Had she really only been fifteen when she left? Even as he'd always been conscious of how much younger she'd been, in some ways she'd also seemed mature beyond her years. But still, it was difficult to imagine any fifteen-year-old being able to handle moving across the country to live on her own.
"I was used to being alone by then. It's not like I had hordes of
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