Open Heart (Dr. Love): A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 4

  In the semi-darkness of the hall, her shoes squeak as she turns and doubles back, straight into my arms.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” she shivers, feeling like a tiny fragile bird in my hands as I fight the desire to hold her tighter. Ever closer.

  “I’ve got you,” I remind her, telling her that her dad had a turn, but he’s fine now.

  “Can I see him?” she asks, but I’d rather she didn’t. Not until he’s conscious.

  “Maybe in the morning,” I suggest, holding her out at arm’s length so I can see her better. Gently gripping her shoulders until she looks up at me.

  “How are you holding up?” I ask, knowing it’s up to her to tell me just how much of this thing between us she really wants to explore tonight.

  I know what I want, but I can’t make Evelyn do anything she doesn’t want to. And I don’t want her to think I’m taking advantage when she’s so vulnerable.

  It’s the complete opposite. I want to protect her, to be here for her before anything else.

  “I thought you’d gone,” she confesses. Her lower lip starting to tremble as she looks past me, trying to keep her emotions in check and failing.

  “That guy said you had to go on-” she starts to try and tell me, but I won’t let her finish.

  I can’t stand to see her upset.

  “I’m here now,” I remind her, searching for her eyes with mine and squeezing her gently once they meet.

  She smiles, and there are some tears, but they’re happy tears for once.

  Ones I don’t try and stop myself from wiping from her cheek with my thumbs.

  “Let’s get you home, huh?” I suggest, knowing she needs a decent meal and just as much rest as her dad does right now.

  My own stomach groans quietly, reminding me I should probably follow my own advice.

  I haven’t eaten anything substantial all day either, and I’m relieved when Evelyn agrees with me, telling me she’s starving, tired and a million other things by the looks when she blushes.

  Suddenly unable to keep eye contact when I ask her what else is wrong.

  “Just tell me I’m not dreaming,” she says, moving a little closer. Testing the waters again and I hook my arms around her waist, pulling her right up against me again, fighting the reflex to kiss her but only because she looks so damned beautiful right now.

  So innocent.

  I don’t want to press anything on her she doesn’t want. Just knowing we can be this close is enough for me, for now.

  I’ll be ready if and when she wants to take things to the next level.

  She’s had a big day, and there’s more to come once her dad wakes up. All I want is to show her I’m here for her right now.

  Now and always.

  “We’re not dreaming anymore,” I tell her.

  Telling myself.

  For the first time in my whole life, I feel like the hole in my life has always only been not having Evelyn to fill it.

  Like not having her pressed up against me like this is what made me feel so empty.

  “Let’s get outta here, I’ll get you home. Maybe we can order in something to eat?” I suggest. Not wanting to offer to take her home to my house, but leaving it up to her.

  “I’d love that,” she squeaks under me. Making my manhood shift all over again, making her mew a little as she presses her softness into my natural hardness once again until we shift apart long enough to make it to the elevators.

  She’s shy, and the few staff we run into here and there is still enough to see her keep her distance from me.

  Like a couple of love-struck teenagers, we both seem awkward and I have to remind myself she is young as we make our way down to the hospital lobby.

  It’s late, and with no visiting hours and most wards asleep, it’s my favorite time to be at the hospital.

  Peaceful. Calm.

  “I’m twenty,” she announces unexpectedly before the elevator doors slide open.

  “And I’m forty-two,” I tell her, not caring about being old enough to be her father. Hoping she feels the same.

  “Well, glad to meet you halfway,” she adds with a coy smile as she steps out in front of me, letting me get a perfect view of her fine heart shaped ass swaying in front of me.

  Those hips I’ve already gripped and want to grip harder as I fill her full of my seed.

  Her body telling me a thousand more things than words ever could as I feel my hardness press against the scrubs I still have on.

  I don’t care now. I don’t care if she sees it or even if the whole world does.

  I want her to know just what she’s doing to me simply by existing.

  I catch up with her, moving close behind and guiding her with a hand on her back as we both find ourselves out front of the hospital when it hits me.

  I don’t even have a car here.

  Dr. Mark Love, superstar surgeon. Doesn’t even have a car for his queen when it counts.

  Feeling for my wallet and house keys, I’m glad I at least remembered that much. Like I said, it’s been a long day for everyone and Evelyn doesn’t even flinch when I suggest a cab.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Evelyn

  Mark’s such a gentleman. Holding the cab door open for me, not even having to remind me not to worry about paying for it either.

  The thought of the hospital bill flashes in my mind, but there are more interesting things to take in watching Mark get into the cab.

  His body flexing without effort under his scrubs, making my mind shift from thoughts of food to wondering if I could eat from or off the man himself directly.

  I shiver at the thought, grateful for the dark cab and being seated next to Mark again.

  It makes me fully aware in a second just how wet I’ve been since he found me in the hospital.

  He’s suggested a takeout dinner at my place, to see me home after the crazy day I’ve had.

  It’s the least I can do to let him take me home but it’s still awkward thinking about him paying for our meal as well.

  But I have like four dollars anyway, not even enough for the bus even if there’s one running this late.

  “I should be able to rustle us up something at home,” I offer feebly, remembering two things instantly.

  We have no food and I can’t cook to save my life.

  Mark shrugs, running his hands up and down his strong thighs with his palms down.

  “We can do whatever you want,” is all he adds cryptically, almost making me moan out loud once my mind flashes to what I’d rather have in my mouth right now.

  He didn’t even flinch when he heard me give my address to the cab driver.

  It’s not a bad side of town, but not one the likes of Dr. Mark Love would frequent either, I imagine.

  He doesn’t say anything, and I only feel his eyes on me as we get closer to home after a lengthy cab ride.

  He hands the driver some bills without even looking or waiting for change.

  Only interested in seeing me out of the car safely and walking me to the front door.

  “We can leave it here if you want,” he finally says, looking down into my eyes as I feel a little stab of hurt.

  “I mean… It’s been so full-on today for you, I don’t want to be…” he murmurs, looking down at his feet.

  A look I know doesn’t suit him.

  I feel my hand slipping into his, giving it a squeeze as I have my own ‘here goes nothing’ moment.

  Feeling him squeeze it right back and then beam a smile in the moonlight on the darkened porch gives me new hope.

  A new thrill.

  “Mark?” I ask him, not even knowing what I’ll say next, feeling my face craning up towards his as I stand on tippy toes.

  My lips yearning to reach his mouth as I watch his face move closer in the dark.

  “Shhh…” he whispers, making me wonder if it’s too much too soon.

  “If I kiss you now, I know I won’t be able to stop,” he says finally, and it feels like the
whole sky explodes behind him, lighting up my world with the feeling I’ve had inside all day.

  The one thing I know is true in this world. The one thing I know I’ve waited for so long for.

  Longing for him to kiss me anyway.

  Wanting to take that chance on anything that happens afterward.

  In a moment, I decide I don’t want my first kiss to be on our porch in the dark.

  If he’s gonna kiss me I want Mark Love to kiss me somewhere special. Where it matters most. And I have the sudden inner knowledge that he does too.

  “Let’s just get inside,” he suggests, and I feel silly for lingering so long until I realize he’s gonna see inside our house now.

  Gonna see where and how we live.

  I swallow hard at the thought but figure if any man’s gonna want me, he needs to know everything about me including where and who I live with.

  I live with my dad in the suburbs, and that’s that I guess.

  Once inside, I flick the lights on, waiting for Mark to follow me into the living room, but he’s stopped in the hallway.

  In front of a picture of my dad hanging on the wall.

  We don’t keep a ton of pictures up on the walls, but dad’s always made sure to keep a few from when he was in medical school. They always kinda inspired me, even though I know he doesn’t want me to enter the medical field.

  Mark looks intently at a few of the frames before joining my invitation to the living room.

  “Everything alright?” I ask him, registering his bewildered look.

  “Those photos…” he muses aloud for a second but dismisses it with a grin and a shake of his head.

  I search his eyes for an answer, but he almost seems more confused than I am.

  “Never mind,” he adds, smiling wider and asking if I have a preference for steak or seafood before he searches for his cell phone.

  The thought of food is too much, and I have to tell him how much I’d love steak right now.

  “Bloody rare and with a ton of mashed potato.” I just about drool, thinking about it already, and am glad when Mark’s laughter matches my own enthusiasm.

  “I know just the place, and they deliver,” he announces, swiping to speed dial and order for us both in seconds, checking my address with me before hanging up. Sounding like he’s ordered it all a thousand times before.

  “I can cook,” he adds. “But with my work, I get a lot of food delivered from Café Bongiorno,” he admits.

  I feel relief once I get us both a bottle of water, noticing the complete lack of any real food in our own refrigerator.

  Dad’s cold breakfast on the table gives me chills and I move to clear it up. Tracing the chain of events from earlier.

  Not long after I left home by the looks.

  A spilled cup of coffee, a plate on the floor.

  I feel like the worst person alive for a second until I feel Mark’s hands around my shoulders.

  “He called 911, they got here in good time. It’s not your fault,” is all he says.

  It’s all he has to say, but I still can’t help feeling guilty. Like somehow all of this was my fault for not getting him to a doctor sooner.

  “I-I made two appointments for him…” I stammer. Feeling myself getting cold, shivering.

  “I knew something was wrong… He’s just so…”

  “Stubborn?” Mark suggests, turning me to face him, cupping my face with his hands.

  “He’ll be fine, Evelyn. A few weeks before he’s pissing anyone off again. But he’ll be fine,” he reassures me.

  The look in my eyes must scream the bills, the loss of his income.

  “Evelyn,” Mark says ominously. “There’s something I should tell you,” he says, his voice so low and deep it rings inside me.

  “You are married,” I hear myself groan, fearing the worst.

  Or he’s at least got a string of women on the go.

  None of them so chubby or half his age either.

  “No,” he tells me bluntly. “I told you there’s nobody else,” he reminds me, his eyes darting to another picture on the mantle over the fireplace.

  A photo of my dad from years gone by.

  “Then what is it?” I ask him. “It is me, isn’t it?” Feeling like a frump all over again with his huge muscular body in front of me. My own soft thickness making me feel like nothing but a lump compared to the man.

  He pulls me closer, leaning in again so much our faces almost touch.

  “Yeah, it is you, Evelyn. But it’s also your...” he starts to say with intensity but breaks off.

  He turns away from me, studying the pictures again and I figure it must be some Doctor-patient thing going on in his mind.

  Like he’s maybe not allowed to be attracted to me because my dad’s his patient.

  Before I have time to feel hurt again or worry about just what it is I’ve done or am that might repel Mark, he turns to me. Gripping me hard by the arms.

  “It is about you, Evelyn. All of this… I want you, can’t you see that?” he asks, my eyes shifting down to his arousal again.

  The bulge in his scrubs undeniable, as much as my own wetness down there.

  A dark patch around what I can see is the swollen tip of his hard on, straining against the thin medical fabric.

  My whole body shivers at the thought of him pressing himself against me again, kissing me, and claiming me as his own.

  I hear my thin voice whimper his name. My hands reaching out for him before his own enclose me in a tight embrace.

  I try to gasp something.

  Something stupid probably, but it’s too late.

  Neither of us can stop this. If anything, it’s a miracle it didn’t happen sooner and I only hope he can feel just how much I need him now.

  His warm mouth crashes onto mine, guided by the same feeling I know in a second we both felt since first seeing each other in the flesh.

  For all my nerves, self-consciousness, and insecurities compared to his size, it all feels completely natural.

  Like destiny.

  I feel him lifting me up in his arms like I weigh nothing.

  Before I know it, he has his strong arms under my rear and back, lifting me to a carrying position while our lips melt over one another.

  I thought I’d be shy, but the taste of him in my mouth makes me eager for more, almost biting at him with a hunger that I know we both feel for more than just dinner.

  “Which room’s yours?” he growls in my ear, and I hear myself gasping one word.

  “Upstairs.”

  But there’s no time for that, we both know it. I’m most certainly feeling it. If he doesn’t do something, and soon. I’ll implode on the spot.

  He moves over to the couch, placing me down on it, pivoting my hips towards him as I feel my legs open automatically. My legs hooking over his strong shoulders.

  Pulling my skirt up in a frenzy, groaning when I feel my heat slipping open wider.

  Begging him aloud to suck my swollen pussy.

  Wanting to feel myself come on his face.

  Willing him to show me how.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mark

  It all happens so fast.

  So beautifully.

  So perfectly, just like her.

  Looking over the photos in her hall, on the mantle, I can see one thing missing in each image of her father from when he was younger, in college, and in medical school.

  Me.

  I have the same photos someplace, each one complete as we hook arms around one another. Best friends.

  Brothers.

  Photos that go all the way back to the boy’s home we grew up in. Her dad and me.

  It’s a little shocking to see the same man without me next to him as his friend, but I know why.

  Not something I want to discuss tonight.

  Not something I’m sure Evelyn would even want to hear.

  I’ve got bigger plans now anyway and once her mouth locks over mine, it answers a million
questions for us both.

  Tasting her on my lips for the first time, I feel my own senses quicken with the urge to be inside her. To fill her with my seed.

  To take her away from all of this and give her something else.

  To give us both a family I know we crave together.

  The place on her throne, next to me where I know she belongs.

  But we have a ways to go yet, which is fine by me if I can just get some more of her in my mouth. On my mouth.

  She begs me to help her. Pleads with me to eat her pussy so she can come in my mouth.

  Something I thought I’d never hear her ask so intently, and something I’m more than happy to oblige.

  The sooner the better, and my hands greet hers as she hitches her white skirt higher.

  The sound of fabric tearing as I grip her panties, pulling them to one side and plunging my tongue deep into her quivering hole. Her essence running down my tongue and chin as I greedily taste more of her.

  She bucks and moans, thrusting her thick hips in wide circles, forcing my mouth over every part of her sex she needs attending to.

  My hands grip those hips, grabbing her in tune with the flourishes of my tongue against her throbbing clit as it frees itself from its sodden hood.

  Swollen and hot, like both of us now, eager for me to draw from her the release I know she wants and so desperately needs.

  But it’s nothing compared to my own urges.

  Nothing compared to my own desire to fill her with my cock and feel the same tight hole quivering against it as I force her to come with my dick buried balls deep inside her sweet pussy.

  One of her hands reaches down for mine, and lacing our fingers together, she guides it up to her chest, swollen with her impending climax.

  She guides me underneath her shirt and bra to the sound of popping buttons, and then the warm sensation of her pert nipple under my thick fingers.

  She moans loudly as I feel the welcome sensation of my hand over her chest, my mouth on her cunt, and my free hand working on her ass as she creates a new symphony of pleasure with her body using mine to pluck each note to new heights.

  “Mark,” she gasps suddenly after a few minutes, warning me but it’s music to my ears.