Jill Shalvis - Luke

She could have gone with Luke and Carmen.

If she had, she'd be in his great, big, warm bed right this very minute.

With Carmen just down the hall.

Not sure about her ability to remain quiet if Luke touched her again-after all, he'd had her sobbing his name with only his mouth on her breast-she figured she'd have to wait for another opportunity. An opportunity without an audience or chance of interruption.

Waiting shouldn't be so hard, but at the clinic tonight, watching them leave, she'd thought it just might kill her.

She could admit now, most of that had been pure lust. It'd taken over her every movement, her thoughts and especially her senses.

She'd already decided there was nothing wrong with that once in a while. Nothing wrong with a good bout of mutually satisfying sex.

So now why did she ache at the thought of it being just sex and nothing more? Why did she suddenly worry about being with a man who didn't love her, and might never love her?

Because she was starting to fall, that's why. She'd really started to fall.

And she was just old-fashioned enough to feel that if she had to fall, then damn it, so did he.

The week flew by. Faith had a meeting one night with her staff-okay, it was pizza night, not a meeting. Another night, she and Shelby caught a movie. She spent one night alone at the library reading for pleasure, something she told herself she didn't get enough of, and one night doing her least favorite chore of food shopping, which, given her new status as borderline diabetic, had become a bigger chore than usual since she had to completely avoid the candy aisle.

Managing her blood sugar level was more time-consuming and far more difficult than she'd have ever imagined. And even with all the time she devoted to it, there were still times she couldn't get it right and had to deal with the annoying bouts of dizziness and tiredness in spite of her best efforts.

The flu would have been far more preferable.

As to why she avoided Luke-and she was avoiding him-bottom line, a morbid sense of impending pain. Not physical, but the kind that was worse. Heartache kind of pain.

On Saturday, Luke showed up at the clinic, and if he'd noticed she'd made herself scarce, he didn't say a word. He worked hard and long beside her and her staff, but didn't attempt to get her into the storage closet, didn't even attempt to seek her out in any way at all.

Had he changed his mind, too? And why was that not okay with her?

Later that night, long after everyone had left, she climbed into her bathtub piled high with steaming water and jasmine-scented bubbles. Probably the sensual scent hadn't been the wisest choice, but she sank deeply and sighed deeply.

Right now there was only one thing that could possibly improve the night-well, two. Chocolate.

And Luke.

But neither was going to happen for her.

When the doorbell rang, her heart jerked. Steeped in bubbles, she went still, but the bell ran again. With water splashing everywhere, and a good amount of bubbles, too, she got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a towel. Dripping her way to the door, she held her towel to her breasts and took a calming breath. Then she flipped on the outside light.

Luke stood there. At the sight of him, her pulse kicked into overdrive. Surely the people in the next building could hear her heart pumping. Stepping closer to the glass, she put her hand on the wood, as if she could touch him. Wanting snaked through her, wanting, and that terrible ache, all at the same time.

He was standing close to the door, too, and suddenly she didn't want that barrier between them, so she pulled it open enough for him to move inside but turned her back to him, head bowed, knowing if she so much as looked at him, he'd see everything she felt, her need, her hope, her confusion-

From behind her, his fingers brushed the back of her hair, so light she might have imagined it, except he did it again. Then he bent his head, just enough to rub his jaw to hers. "Do you want me to go?"

So solemn. So quiet. So impossibly sexy.

"Faith?"

She closed her eyes, shook her head no. She didn't want him to go. She just didn't want him to see what she was thinking, or he'd run like hell.

He danced a finger down her bare, damp arm, letting out a shaky breath so close to her ear it drew goose bumps to her skin. "I got you out of the bath."

Since the air had backed up in her lungs at his touch, at the way his chest spread heat across her back, how the front of his thighs brushed the back of hers, she could only nod.

"I don't want to talk you into this," he whispered, tingling his fingers over her shoulder, playing with the edging of the towel at her shoulder blade.

Turning to face him, she pressed her hands flat against the door behind her to keep them off him. "It was my idea to begin with."

"Yeah." He smiled, a slightly unsure smile that touched her more than anything else he'd ever done. "So why do I get the feeling you've changed your mind?"

She had changed her mind, she'd deepened it. No longer was wild sex on weekend nights for the time they had left going to be enough for her, but how to admit that to a man who gave commitments only to his patients? She couldn't explain, it was that simple. It would be her own secret joy… and loss. "I still want you," she whispered.

His eyes heated at that, and keeping his eyes on hers, he pulled his pager out of his pocket and tossed it over his shoulder on to her couch.

She watched it bounce on the cushion, then turned her gaze back to him. He was dangling his cell phone from his fingers. It, too, took a sail across the room, landing next to his pager.

She took a few steps to where her portable phone sat on its base. She hit the talk button in tune to Luke's raised brow. Her pager sat next to the phone and she carried both to the couch and slid them beneath the cushion. After a very brief consideration, she slid his pager and cell phone beneath the cushion as well.

He grinned.

So did she, grinned as she stepped right into his arms.

"I've never laughed while getting a woman naked before," he admitted, and nibbled at her throat.

With a little moan, she tilted her head to give him better access. "You're not going to have to work very hard to get me naked."

He eyed her towel. "No?"

"No." She untucked the edge of the towel, and let it fall.

Luke sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes flaming, his hands shaking slightly as he peeled himself out of his shirt and sent it the way of his pager and phone.

Wide shoulders, broad chest, ropey arms… did he know how mouth-watering he was? His torso was lightly spattered with dark silky hair, across his tight pectorals, in a line dividing his flat, corded belly, disappearing into the pants that seemed quite strained across an impressive bulge behind his zipper.

"I'm still ahead of you," she said softly, standing there completely nude except for the few drops of water left from her bath.

"Yeah." His voice sounded strained, rough, and he kicked off his shoes and socks, unfastened his pants, grimacing as he slid them down over his erection.

"Oh my," she whispered, unable to tear her gaze away, but she hadn't seen a man up front and personal in so long, had in fact never seen such a magnificent-

With a groaning laugh, he surrounded her with his warm, strong arms, lifting her up.

She licked her lips and studied his mouth. "Are we going to-"

"Yes."

"In my bedroom?"

"Yes."

"All the way to the end this time?"

"Definitely, yes. Any more questions?"

"Yes. Could you hurry?"

"Maybe the first time, but definitely not the second time. Or the third."

When her mouth fell open as he walked with her down the hall, he let out another groaning laugh. "I want you in a bed, Faith. Sprawled out so I can touch and kiss and lick every single inch of you."