I’m a doctor. Mobster. Killer.
My hands are covered in filth. I don’t have the right to touch anything as clean and pure as Ellison MacAllister.
I distance myself … always remaining obscure, composed, restrained.
Careful to never allow my eyes to linger too long.
Careful to hide my interest.
Careful to keep my burning desire buried beneath the surface.
I do it for her—suffer in silence—because it’s what is best for the woman I love.
And she has no idea.
She’ll be initiated as a Fellowship member soon. One of my mafia brothers will go through endurance so he’ll earn the right to claim her.
Make her his wife.
Kill. Me. Slowly.
I’m running out of time. Only a month remains before she’s beyond my reach forever.
I want to taste her. Share sleepless nights. Ride out her storm.
I want to give her the kind of nights she will still feel between her legs the next morning.
I want us to share the kind of passion that forms on our skin and drips down to saturate the sheets.
Between the sweat and the moans and the messy hair, I want her to know how hard she’s been loved.
To have her is to taint her.
I should stay away. But I won’t. I can’t.
I’m a selfish bastard.
A selfish bastard in love.
Chapter 5: Jamie’s POV
“I don’t mind your stuff being all over our bedroom. And our bathroom. And the hallway leading from the staircase.” Trust me. Her shite is every-fucking-where. “I knew what I was getting into when I asked a high-maintenance lass like yourself to move in with me.”
Ellison giggles. “You did not. You knew zero about what it would be like living with me. And I can guarantee that whatever you’re thinking you’ve gotten yourself into with me ain’t even close to the reality of it.”
“Then why don’t you tell me?”
“I was thinking I would show you.” She grins and I’ve come to know in a short while that it’s a sure sign of mischief. “That is if you think you can handle it.”
“I promise I won’t be the one who can’t handle it.” I already know what kind of lover she likes and wants.
And I very much want to be the alpha she wants.
I pick Ellison up and throw her over my shoulder to carry her to the bed. Well, to the mattress on the floor.
I was planning to wait until bedtime to fuck her—after the work was done and everything was in place—but she’s made it impossible for me to wait another minute.
I toss her on the mattress and stand over her while I pull my T-shirt over my head and start working to get my jeans off. “I’m done waiting to have you.”
She smiles as her eyes survey my body. “I’ve been wondering what you look like underneath your shirt.”
“And?”
“I approve one hundred percent.”
“Take off your clothes, Mac. I want to watch you get naked.” My voice is stern.
I’ll be the one in control. The one taking what I want. The one who’ll be completely unapologetic.
Exactly what she said she wanted.
It’s November, that time of year where Scotland experiences more darkness than light. The sun is long gone, so the room is illuminated only by the soft lamp on the bedside table. It’s actually sort of perfect.
Ellison sits up and pulls her shirt over her head. Black and hot-pink lace covers what I already know is a beautiful pair of tits that fit my hands perfectly.
And I can’t wait to get my hands on them again.
Her lovely breasts tumble out of her bra and she tosses it on the mattress before pushing her thumbs into the waistband of her yoga pants to drag them down her legs. A tiny black and hot-pink lace triangle barely covers the mound between her thighs.
She’s completely naked when she falls backward on the mattress, her feet apart and knees pressed together. Waiting. “No, Mac. You don’t get to close your legs on me. I want to see you. All. Of. You.” I put my palms together and then pull them apart to widen the space between my hands. “Spread them.”
She bites her bottom lip—an attempt to mask her grin—as her knees slowly fall apart. “Is this what you want to look at?”
My underwear is tight. My cock is straining hard against the fabric so I push them down and out of the way. “I think this is a sure sign I want to do more than look at it.”
Ellison grins. “Mmm. Someone’s eager.”
“You have no idea.”
I go to my knees and crawl over Ellison. “I’ve imagined us like this no less than a million times. I’ve seen it happen in my head over and over.”
Ellison brings my hand to her mouth to kiss my palm. “I’ve imagined us together too. I can’t tell you how many times.”
My mouth connects with hers and she opens wide to invite my tongue inside to play.
Silky. Slippery. Seductive. I like this game very much.
A little taunting. A little tickling. A lot of teasing. This woman knows how a man likes to be kissed.
I drag my mouth away from her lips and kiss that spot below her ear before moving down the side of her neck. My hands similarly mimic the downward motion beginning at her ribcage and moving lower on her sides, waist, and hips.
She pushes her fingers into the top of my hair and arches her back when I move lower to suck her nipple into my mouth. A soft gasp/moan expels from her chest when my tongue licks the erect point.
I know she’s going to squirm so I grasp her bum hard and hold her in place as I move lower to kiss the top of her pubic bone. “Doc, this teasing . . . it’s torture.”
“Do you want my mouth on you?”
She lifts her hips and squirms. “Yesss. So badly.”
She jolts when my tongue darts out and licks the top of her slit. “Ohhh.”
I tickle her clit with my tongue and then lick once. Twice. Three times. “I love the way you taste. And smell.”
She rocks her hips in a back and forth motion against my mouth. Her body shudders and a moan is released when my tongue works her in a circular motion. “More?”
“Please. Feels so good.”
Pleasing Ellison. Hearing her moans. Licking her until she comes.
I’m going to enjoy this.
Georgia resides in rural Mississippi with her wonderful husband, Jeff, and their two beautiful daughters. She spent fourteen years as a labor and delivery nurse before she decided to pursue her dream of becoming an author and hasn’t looked back yet.
When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about writing. When she’s being domestic, she’s listening to her iPod and visualizing scenes for her current work in progress. Every story coming from her always has a song to inspire it.
Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of my books, inquiries regarding foreign translation and film rights should be directed to Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich.
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