Chapter 7

I've been home from the hospital for two days now, and I'm going out of my fucking mind. I'm climbing the walls. I've cleaned my entire place—twice. I've rearranged my pantry and spice cabinet—twice. And I'm giving serious thought to repainting my entire house.

If I don't get medically cleared to return to duty soon—and they're telling me it's going to be a few days yet—I'm afraid of what other home improvement project I'm going to find to keep me occupied. Or I might just fucking explode. Which way I go is seriously a goddamn toss-up at this point.

Making it all even worse is that ever since coming home from the hospital, I haven't been able to stop thinking about Harlow. Can't stop thinking about that kiss. She turned and sprinted away so quickly, I didn't have time to get her number from her. Of course, the fact that she turned and sprinted away that fast makes me wonder if I crossed a line with her. In the moment, it felt right. The passion coursing through me felt reciprocated. It seemed to me that she wanted it as much as I did. That she enjoyed it as much as I did. But the fact that she ran away from me without another word has left me trying to figure out what the fuck happened.

With nothing else to keep me occupied, I've spent the last few days obsessing about that kiss. About Harlow. And trying to understand what happened. We spent my time in the hospital flirting and being playful with one another. I thought she would have welcomed a kiss. Had I misread the signs? Had I somehow misinterpreted her flirting? I don't think I did. I'm usually pretty perceptive and like to think I read people really well. But the fact that she pulled away from me and then bailed is making me question everything.

I'm not the kind of guy who second-guesses himself. In my line of work, there is no room for doubt, and second-guessing myself could lead to my death or the deaths of my men. It's why I make the best decisions I can, execute my plans, and don't look back. It's why the fact that I've been sitting here, second-guessing everything about the kiss is driving me absolutely fucking bananas. I don't think I've ever misread a situation as badly as I seem to have misread this one, and it's left me absolutely confounded.

I stop pacing and look out my front window, watching a couple of cars pass by as my mind spins with a thousand thoughts. Maybe if I were back at work, I wouldn't be obsessing about this as badly as I am. But part of me thinks I might anyway. What I realize as I stand at the window is that it's not necessarily the kiss and Harlow's reaction to it, or what it all means that's bothering me so much. It's not precisely what I'm fixated on.

It's her.

I think what's gotten under my skin so much is the fact that I thought Harlow and I had connected on a deeper level. I know I shouldn't be thinking about her like that. Not only is she half my age, she's my son's ex-girlfriend. For those reasons and so many more, Harlow White should be the furthest thing from my mind. But over my time in the hospital, spending as much time together talking and getting to know each other like we did, we really clicked.

There's just something about her that's gotten under my skin, and I can't quite shake her. I can't stop thinking about her. I don't connect with people very easily. I never have. Things with Harlow just seem so natural and flow so easily that I can't get her out of my head. The nagging feeling of having Harlow running around my head is like a splinter just beneath my skin that just won't stop stabbing me. And it's because I don't have answers. I don't know why she ran off on me like that. It's those questions and not understanding what happened that's bothering me so fucking relentlessly.

I know I should find some way to let this go. Find some way to put her out of my mind. Find some way to accept that she ran off as an answer to all the questions in my head. I know I should stay away from her. But I can't. I want—no, I need—to hear her say the words.

"Fuck it," I say.

* * *

"Hunter, what are you doing here?"Harlow asks. "Are you okay? Are you?—"

"No, I'm fine. Getting better every day," I reply.

"Then, why are you here?"

I lean against the counter at the nurse's station and look into her eyes, bluer than the Caribbean sea. Spots of color rise in her cheeks and her full lips part, surprise on her face. She's sitting alone in front of a computer, looking as if she's inputting information from a handwritten chart into the system.

"Honestly? I came to see you," I tell her.

Her eyes widen slightly, and her lips form a perfect "O" as she looks at me, the expression of surprise on her face deepening.

"You came to see me?" she asks. "Why?"

"Because I can't stop thinking about you."

Her eyebrows shoot up and the expression of surprise on her face morphs into one of absolute shock. Her full lips tremble and the spots of color in her cheeks flare, turning an almost neon red that spreads to her neck and the top of her ears.

"M-me?" she asks, her voice timid and tinged with fear.

"I can't stop thinking about that kiss?—"

"Stop," she whispers and puts her finger to her lips in a shut the fuck up gesture.

A pair of nurses steps behind the station and gives me a smile and a slow, appraising look. They're both in their thirties and are objectively beautiful, but to me, they don't hold a candle to the cerulean-eyed beauty sitting in front of me. She gets to her feet and gives the two nurses a polite smile then hustles around the counter and grabs me by the wrist, dragging me down the hallway. We turn a corner and come to a door, which she opens and pushes me inside ahead of her. Harlow closes the door and turns to me, her eyes wide and wild.

"A supply closet," I say. "This doesn't look suspicious at all."

"If anybody knew I kissed you out in the parking lot, they could bounce me out of this program. It was totally inappropriate for me to kiss you, and I can't have you announcing it to everybody out there," she stammers.

She's so earnest, it's adorable and I can't keep the cockeyed smile off my lips. "First of all, you didn't kiss me. I kissed you?—"

"This isn't funny, Hunter."

"It's a little funny."

"It's not," she hisses. "This is my career."

There is genuine fear for her job in her voice and the smile slips from my face. "I'm sorry. The last thing I want to do is cause you any problems."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Like I said, I can't stop thinking about you," I say. "And I have a feeling you can't stop thinking about me."

She looks away and falls silent as her cheeks flush once more. It's enough to tell me that my instincts are right, and I've been on her mind as much as she's been on mine the last few days. She finally raises her eyes to me and the way they sparkle takes my breath away. As I realize just how close we're standing together, I feel the heat wafting off her body and breathe in the faint, citrusy aroma of her shampoo. It's heady and my pulse begins to race as my groin tightens.

"I like you, Harlow," I say.

"I like you too, but there are so many reasons this isn't a good idea."

"I can't think of a single good reason."

She opens her mouth—likely to give me a reason she thinks is good—but before she can speak, I push Harlow against the shelves behind her. She gasps as she looks up at me with blue eyes that are wide and round, and although I see fear in them, I also see a fiery desire. The hunger I feel for her I see reflected in her eyes. I kiss Harlow and she stiffens up at first, just like she did in the parking lot the other day, but just as quickly melts into me.

Harlow grips my hair with both hands and pulls it hard enough to make me wince. That sharp pinch of pain heightens the pleasure flowing through my veins as our tongues swirl languidly around one another. I slide my hands down to Harlow's hips and pull her against me, letting her feel my stiff length pressed against her. She gasps and looks up at me with those cerulean doe eyes that are radiating both fear and longing.

"Hunter, I don't?—"

"Do you want me to stop?"

She looks at me for a long moment as if frozen with indecision. I can tell part of her wants to, but the other part, the good girl side of her, is afraid to open that door. My body is taut. Tense. And my cock is rock hard. I want her with everything in me, but I'm not going to push her into something she's either not ready for or doesn't want to do.

"It's okay, Harlow?—"

"No," she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't want to stop."

"Are you sure?"

She nods. "Yes."

Our bodies crash together again, lashing each other with our tongues as our kiss grows almost frantic. Sliding my hands beneath her top, I cup Harlow's full, round tits in my hands, drawing a slow groan from her as I circle her stiff nipples with my thumbs. She lets out a sharp yelp and gives me a sultry smile when I give them a firm pinch. As I kiss her neck, I slip my hand into her pants, relishing the soft, smooth skin of her thighs.

Her breath quickens and grows hoarse as I find the cleft between her thighs. She's warm and dripping wet already, and when I drum my fingers across her clit, Harlow gasps and moans. The tips of my fingers are wet with her juices, and she watches as I slip them into my mouth, savoring her sweet nectar. The taste of her is heady and hits my system like a drug, and I know I need more. I need all of her.

Picking her up, I carry Harlow over to a rolling cart that stands in the corner and set her down on top of it. She raises her hips as I pull the bottoms of her scrubs off. I toss them aside and fall to my knees in front of her and gently part her legs. Harlow looks down at me with eyes that gleam with desire. The way she's biting her bottom lip makes her look so young and so innocent that the fire inside of me starts to burn out of control. It's a fire I'm happy to let consume me.

Harlow's musky aroma is driving me nuts, and I'm desperate to taste her, so I lean forward, burying my face between her legs. The moment my tongue hits her clit, her entire body grows rigid, and a soft sigh passes her lips. I run my tongue up her silky slit, breathing in her scent and suddenly feel lightheaded. Harlow grips my hair, pulling on it hard and moaning as I plunge my tongue into her, lapping up her juices like a man dying of thirst.

Her fingers are buried in my hair, yanking and pulling, trembling wildly as I like and suck on her clit. Harlow's breath is ragged and her whimpers ring in my ears. Our eyes meet and when I take her clit into my mouth and suck hard in it, Harlow's full lips form a perfect "O" and she cries out. As she trembles hard, I slip two fingers into her sweet little pussy, sliding them along her wet inner walls as I swirl my tongue around her button.

"Hunter," she gasps. "Oh my God."

Harlow's body tenses up, her muscles lock as I pump my fingers into her while I viciously lash her clit with my tongue. A stuttering gasp floats from her mouth as her grip on my hair tightens. Harlow rolls her hips, grinding herself against my face, taking my fingers deeper into her. She bites the side of her hand, muffling her cries, but a sharp squeal slips through as she comes. Harlow shakes wildly, pulling my face even closer to her.

The feel and taste of her coming around my fingers and tongue drives me wild. I keep licking and sucking, prolonging her pleasure. Harlow looks down at me, her blue eyes comically wide, her cheeks bright red, and she's breathing as hard as if she'd just run a marathon. I look up at her and lick my lips, savoring the lingering taste of her.

"I need you," I say, my voice hoarse.

"Then take me," she whispers.

I get to my feet, my cock so hard it's almost painful. When I start to unbutton my jeans though, the doorknob of the supply closet we're in rattles as somebody tries to open it.

"Oh God," she gasps.

Harlow flies off the cart and pulls her scrubs back on with the speed of an Olympic sprinter. All the while, I watch her firm, lithe body longingly, wishing we'd had the time for me to sink myself inside her. After quickly putting herself together, Harlow looks at me with wide eyes and an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm sorry," she mouths.

I smile and try to keep myself from laughing. "It's all right."

She clears her throat and puts on a professional face again then opens the closet door. Her shoulders sag and a breath of relief bursts from her mouth as she turns to me again.

"The coast is clear," she says. "You need to go."

I give her a nod and start to head out of the closet but stop and look down at her. She returns my gaze as her cheeks redden and a shy expression crosses her face. Harlow bites her bottom lip and looks away, but I put my fingers under her chin and raise her face to me again.

"To be continued," I say firmly.