Dr. Good by Flora Ferrari
Chapter Eight
Miller
I walk down the hallway, wondering if she noticed how hard I am.
When I saw her pacing across the apartment, my eyes were drawn like a damn magnet to the way her breasts bounced for me, a personal show that had my seed writhing around my balls, making them feel like they could explode at any second.
My helm pulses against my pants, urgently, hungrily, making clear thought impossible.
I wait for her at the elevator door, my hands folded in front of me as if that will hide how badly I need her if she decides to look down.
She walks up beside me, letting out another one of those intoxicating giggles.
She would not laugh like that if she knew how close it brought me to turning into a feral beast, bare seconds away from shoving her roughly up against the wall.
“You horny fucking thing,” I’d snarl in her ear, furiously driving my hand up between her legs, rubbing her sex possessively through her pants. “Come for me right here. Fucking squirt into your panties so I can lick your thick cream off your horny fucking hole.”
“Miller,” she murmurs.
I push through the fantasy to realize the elevator door is open.
“Yeah.”
I walk inside, joining her, and she presses the button for the ground floor. It’s just us in here and her scent overwhelms me, moving through me like her womb is screaming out for my seed, like her body is crying, begging to be touched.
I clamp my hands in front of me with even more firmness, holding them in place so they don’t get their own ideas.
“Thanks for coming,” she mutters. “You didn’t have to.”
“I did,” I growl. “Knowing you’re scared and alone doesn’t sit right with me. You need somebody to protect you, especially if there’s some fucking lunatic out there trying to hurt you.”
She bites her lip, glancing up at me. She really needs to stop doing that. It’s the way her innocent eyes go wide, all her inexperience brimming out of her, her young fresh face blooming red like her lust is trying to burst from her skin.
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
The elevator door opens and we walk through the lobby, out the door, and across the street where I parked my sedan. I brought a simple car for this visit, not wanting to leave one of my more expensive models sitting in the street.
The windows are tinted, and the parking spot is dark, away from the street lamps, and the street is dead-quiet.
Which all combines to mean we’re going to have complete privacy in the car, the sort of privacy required to bring a minx like Macie to a shivering orgasm.
I unlock the car and then open her door for her, waving her inside.
She tilts her head at me with another of those intoxicating giggles, like she really has no clue the power she has over me, like she doesn’t know how carnally hungry she makes me.
“So polite,” she murmurs, with a hint of shyness in her voice like she’s not sure if she should be making a joke.
“I try to be.”
I smirk, hoping I put her at ease, but the shivering feral note in my voice might counteract that somewhat.
I walk around to my side and drop into the driver’s seat, drumming my fingers on the dashboard. I have to give my hands something to do, some way of distracting from the fact she’s right there.
“Tell me what’s happening, Macie. Who is this piece of shit?”
“His name is Derrick,” she says quietly, looking out at the street as though she can’t bring herself to look at me directly. “He’s… I don’t even know how to describe him.”
“Where did you meet?”
“High school,” she says. “He was the new kid and I was the weird kid, I guess. I spent a lot of time alone, reading. I guess I’ve always found it difficult to make friends. I have a really good friend, Lexi. We’ve known each other since we were kids. But apart from her…”
She shrugs.
I stare at her closely, drinking in the emotion that spills from her eyes, as though all the heartache she felt at those lonely years is coming out now.
“Anyway, Derrick started hanging out in the library with me. I thought he was okay. He was a little strange. He’d sometimes say odd things, about how he liked to follow people home, but I always assumed he was joking.”
A sob causes her voice to crack and I clench my fist against the steering wheel, imagining I’m crushing this Derrick motherfucker’s throat in my hand.
“Then one day I realized he was following me home. I totally freaked on him. I was yelling at him. I told him I never wanted to see him again. And then it got really bad.”
“Bad, how?”
“We had to move. He would leave rats in my locker. He made Photoshop pictures of my face on naked women’s bodies. He called in bomb threats to movie sets my aunt was working on. He was really out of control. And then he moved back to Canada because his mom was sick and his deadbeat dad had grown sick of him.”
“But he’s back now.”
“Yes,” she murmurs, a tear flowing down her cheek, a tear that makes me want to lean across and kiss away her pain.
Fuck.
This is getting harder by the second.
This Derrick motherfucker doesn’t deserve to breathe.
“This is his handwriting. And it’s the sort of fucked-up thing he’d do. I don’t know why he can’t leave me alone. We never dated. We never even kissed. We just read books together in the library sometimes. And then he comes out with all this crazy stuff…”
She breaks off into sobs, cluching her hands together, making sounds that force me to reach across and lay my hand on her shoulder. I can’t imagine sitting here stoically when my woman is pouring out so much vivid pain.
She stills when I lay my hand upon her, but then she looks up at me, a brave smile on her perfect lips.
“I’m okay. It’s okay.”
“What crazy stuff?” I ask, even if part of me doesn’t want to know.
“He’d tell me he loved me. That we were destined to be together. That he knew the moment he saw me. And that we were destined to have a family together. It was too much too fast. It was just insanity.”
I slowly remove my hand, feeling like somebody’s just punched me in the gut.
She’s describing exactly how I feel about her.
How would she react if I started spewing the same words her stalker said?
This just got more complicated.
If telling her was a bad idea before, it’d be like setting off a bomb now.
But I don’t think I can hold back.
“I’m guessing you didn’t feel the same,” I say.
“No.” She paws at her face. “Not even close.”
“I suppose you don’t believe in that sort of thing.”
I try to keep my voice as casual as I can, giving no sign of the maelstrom of need swirling beneath it all.
“What, love at first sight?” she asks.
I shrug. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
“Well, what would you call it?”
I stare at her hard, at the shape of her mouth, the fullness of her cheeks, the uncertain glimmer in her eyes. “Possession at first sight,” I say.
She makes a whimpering sound that would cause me to claim her lips with mine if she hadn’t said what she just did.
The thing that freaked her out about this bastard was how quickly he came onto her.
She’d probably be massively freaked out if I essentially did the same thing, throwing myself at her as suddenly as this Derrick asshole did.
But there’s another part of me that wants to do it, do it right now because she’s looking at me like she feels the same.
Or is that just wishful thinking?
Goddamn, this is hard.
“Are you going to call the police?” I ask, changing the subject.
“They were never much help before.” She sighs, letting her gaze drop. “We contacted them loads of times when I was a kid. The thing is, he always does things in a way where we can’t arrest him. He’s sneaky and careful. If he really has planted a bug, he wouldn’t have been seen. And it’s not like paying somebody to deliver a letter is illegal.”
I sigh darkly. “Well, you can’t stay there until this is sorted.”
“I’ll get a hotel room, I guess, but it’s not like my aunt’s inheritance is unlimited. And I want to save it for… you know, my baby.”
Ourbaby, I almost roar at her, correcting her.
But somehow I manage to keep that to myself.
“Stay with me,” I say, the idea exploding out of me before I have a chance to use caution.
She flinches. “What?”
“If you want to save your money, stay with me. I’ll have somebody comb your apartment for bugs. And my building has the best security money can buy. You’ll be much safer there than in a hotel.”
I rattle these justifications off like I’ve been waiting to get her back to my apartment for a long time, and that’s how it feels. Even if it’s only been hours, it feels like weeks, like years I’ve needed to get my curvy-as-fuck woman alone in my home.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I say firmly. “I have a spare room. I don’t see why not.”
“Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest?”
Yes.
I smirk. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Now stop being ungrateful and say yes.”
She laughs, looking up at me with her wide innocent eyes. “Okay, Miller. That’s really nice of you. Yes. Thank you.”
I nod like it’s no big deal like I’m simply helping out a friend in need.
But she’s not my friend. Already, she’s so much more than that.
And now we’re going to be staying under one roof, I don’t know if I’ll be able to restrain myself.