with his iPad on his lap and papers fanning on the bed around him.
“Doc.” I smile despite my aching head. “I thought I dreamt you were here.”
“Nope. Flesh and blood.” He pushes the iPad off his lap and slides down, facing me and propping his head on his fist.
“You’re home early.” I lean forward and press my forehead to his, absorbing the him scent that both soothes and excites me. I kiss the base of his throat, the tan skin firm and warm beneath my lips.
“I wanted to wake up with you.” He pulls back a little and palms one side of my face, his eyes concerned and searching. “How are you this morning?”
I’m not sure how to respond. Worse than the pain in my head is the turmoil of the flashback still swirling inside me. My therapist did warn the traumatic effects of the kidnapping might sneak up on me when I least expected it. Exhaustion exacerbated it, but I still can’t believe it was this bad and this sudden.
I realize I’ve been quiet too long when Maxim’s brows fall into a deep bend.
“I’m fine,” I say hastily, and reach up to brush back the thick hair that likes to fall over his forehead in the morning.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Why would you think I’m not?” I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The room spins a little.
“Because you were crying in your sleep last night,” Maxim says behind me, still in the bed. “A lot. It was hard to wake you up and you seemed really distressed. You don’t remember opening your eyes and talking with me?”
I suppress a groan.
Damn it all to hell.
I’m glad Maxim’s here, but I wish he hadn’t walked in on that hot mess. Knowing his protective nature, he won’t let this go. I glance over my shoulder, calling up a casual smile. “You know I have bad dreams sometimes.”
“About your mom, yes, but I didn’t realize you were having nightmares about Costa Rica.”
I sigh, letting my casual smile fall. “I haven’t been. Last night was . . . different. I’d never had one before.”
He gets out of bed to face me, still wearing his slacks, but the top button is undone, parting to display the taut muscles of his stomach and the black briefs he wears beneath. That’s sexy as hell, and my neglected libido reminds me this specimen is mine to do with as I will.
“Come here,” I order, my voice rolling out like a command swaddled in a purr.
“No.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I see that look in your eyes. I want sex, too, but we need to talk about these nightmares. What does your therapist say?”
“This nightmare.” I walk to him, since he won’t come to me. “Not these. I told you last night was the first, so she and I haven’t discussed it yet.”
“What do you think triggered this one?” His dark brows gather into a storm on his face. He’s so intense about everything. I absolutely love it most of the time, but I don’t want to talk about my nightmares when the man of my dreams is standing in my bedroom looking so highly fuckable.
“Exhaustion.” I stop in front of him, dwarfed by his height, but not daunted by his resistance.
I got something for that.
I slip off my pajamas, drop to my knees and peel the waistband of his pants back.
“Nix, no.” He glances down at me from beneath the unjustly long curl of his lashes, trying so hard to look stern even with his erection practically poking my cheek through his pants. “We need to talk.”
“Okay.” I yank his zipper down. “Let’s talk.”
With admirable efficiency, I have his cock out and in my mouth in a matter of seconds.
“Holy shit,” he gasps. “Lennix, do not distract me.”
I say, “I’m not distracting you,” but he probably doesn’t understand since his dick in my mouth distorts my speech. I watch as the vibrations of my words around his cock force his eyes closed in pleasure. I slide my mouth up and down his length, alternating my strokes between fast and slow. I press my tongue into the opening at his tip, making love to it with reverent licks before easing him in and down inch by inch until the well-loved tip invades my throat.
“Fuuuuuuuck.” He fists my hair, bringing my head down even farther until I choke. I know that sound turns him on so I choke again, my lips