London sat on the edge of the bed, her back to Drew. She could feel his eyes on her as she threaded her arms through her bra straps and hooked the eyelets behind her.
The hotel room’s air-conditioning unit kicked on, but London couldn’t give it credit for the goose bumps that pebbled along her skin. Those were 100 percent courtesy of the man lounging in the middle of the king-size bed.
She stopped herself from glancing back at him because she just knew she would find an arrogant, self-satisfied smirk on his face. Not that he hadn’t earned the right to be conceited when it came to the particular set of skills he’d displayed in the past hour.
“Is this going to be an ongoing occurrence, or was this yet another onetime thing?” Drew asked.
London lifted her panties from the nightstand and stepped into them. She stood, pulling them up her legs.
“London?”
Finally, she turned. There wasn’t as much conceit as she’d expected, just that normal air of self-assuredness that clung to him at all times.
“London?” he said again.
“What?” she asked with an exasperated sigh.
He arched a brow. “Are you going to answer my question?”
“I don’t know, Drew.”
“You don’t know if you’re going to answer the question, or you don’t know if you’re going to offer me a standing invitation to meet you at the Hampton Inn on Monday afternoons?”
The air conditioner clicked off and, despite the persistent goose bumps that remained on her arms, London walked over to the thermostat to lower it. She pushed her fingers through her naturally coily hair, scraping her nails along her scalp.
“Give me a minute to think about this,” she said.
“What’s there to think about?”
She didn’t answer him, opting instead to walk over to the minifridge and help herself to a bottle of water. Resting her butt against the desk, she gulped down half of it, peering directly into Drew’s dark brown eyes as she did so. Her eyes lowered, skimming over the smooth, chiseled planes of his chest and torso.
Didn’t this bastard spend most of his day behind a desk? How could he be so cut?
The bedsheet stopped just below the sexy indentions at his waist, where the inguinal ligament and transversus abdominis met.
For goodness’ sake, girl, this isn’t Anatomy 101.
“How long do you plan to be in Austin?” London asked abruptly.
“Until Trident’s work at County is completed.”
She took another gulp of water. “And once you’re done, you go back to New York?”
“It is where I live.”
She studied him, taking in the rudimentary Greek letter branded into his chest, just above his left nipple. The omega symbol. The mark of the fraternity he belonged to. Her dad was also a member, but she wouldn’t hold that against Drew.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this.” She paused for a moment, then shook her head. “But you are exactly what I’ve been looking for, Drew Sullivan.”
“It took you long enough to figure that out. I’ve known since high school.”
There was nothing she wanted more in this world at the moment than to knock that cocky grin off his face.
“You are such an asshole,” London said. “However, you’re also the perfect hookup partner.” She ticked items off on her fingers. “You’re temporary, you sling dick like you’ve taken a master class on it, and there’s not a chance in hell of me ever falling for you.”
London couldn’t be sure if the light in his eyes had actually dimmed a fraction, or if the change was due to his movement as he pushed himself up so that his back was against the headboard. His adjustment caused the sheet to fall even lower, barely covering his lap. She had to clutch the edge of the desk to stop herself from going to him. She wanted to crawl up the bed and plant herself on that lap.
“Why, London,” he said in a droll voice, “how could I ever turn down such a romantic proposal?”
“Do I come across as the romantic type?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he folded his arms behind his head, and asked, “Why me?”
“I thought I just went over that,” she said. “Believe it or not, you’re literally what the doctor ordered, Drew.” His brow arched in inquiry, so London decided to explain. “My job—my life in general—has been overly demanding lately. My mentor at the hospital, Dr. Doug Renault, suggested I find ways to decrease my stress. My two best friends, Samiah and Taylor, believe casually hooking up is the perfect way to accomplish this. I wasn’t entirely sure they were right, but based on how relaxed I’ve been since Saturday night, I have to say that sex with you has done amazing things for my stress level. Much better than crocheting.”
He barked out a laugh. “That’s one I haven’t heard before, but I’ll take it.”
“You don’t have to look so smug,” London said.
“I’m not smug, I just have a high level of confidence in my ability to handle this job. Drew Sullivan, stress reliever. At your service, Dr. Kelley.”
She dropped her head back and sighed up at the ceiling. “I’m going to regret this.”
“I promise you won’t.”
His voice had dropped an octave, the deep, rich timbre adding to those goose bumps on her arms and thighs.
“If we’re going to do this, we can just go over to my place,” he said. “The apartment I’m renting is about the same distance from the hospital, and the bed is a lot more comfortable.”
“Really?” London asked. “I was just thinking that I need to check what brand this mattress is. It’s better than what I have at home.”
“You sure you aren’t just projecting your feelings for me toward this mattress?”
She cut her eyes at him, and he laughed.
“Joking,” he said. “So, how is this going to work?” He held up a hand. “The better question is, how stressed are you? Do you require daily attention? Today does make three days in a row that you’ve had a dose of Drew.”
“And just like that, I’ve changed my mind.”
“That was a joke! Riling you up used to be my favorite pastime when we were in school. It’s hard to turn it off.”
“See, I knew it. Irritating me was like some weird hobby for you.”
“I would have lettered in trying to get a rise out of you if they’d offered it as a sport back at Barbara Jordan High. I promise to do better,” he said. He patted the bed. “Come on. Let’s hammer out the details.”
As if she was getting anywhere near him while he was still naked and she was in only her underwear.
Why was she still wearing only her underwear?
She reached over and snagged his shirt from where he’d folded it across the back of the room’s lone chair. The soft material felt heavenly against her skin. London pulled the two sides across her chest and sat in the chair.
“To answer your previous question, this is how this is going to work.” She crossed her legs, propped her elbow on her knee, and settled her chin on her fist. “First, nothing, and I mean absolutely, positively nothing happens at the hospital. We don’t even exchange smiles there, got that?”
“Why must you make everything so difficult?”
“Got that?” London asked again.
“I got it. Only frowns and sneers while at the hospital.”
She responded with a firm nod. “Second, this is just sex. I don’t want to get to know you any better. I don’t need to hear about your hopes and dreams for the future. The only thing I’m interested in is racking up as many orgasms as I can before you leave town. Wham bam, thank you, Drew.”
“Have you ever considered writing greeting cards as a side gig? It’s a shame to let all that sentimentality go to waste.”
London rolled her eyes. “I would add ‘no speaking’ to the list, but you would never go for that.”
Before she knew what he was doing, Drew threw off the sheet and swung his legs off the side of the bed. He stood and started for her, his naked body looking like a vision from some ambitious director’s idea of upmarket porn.
She quickly stood, not wanting to be at a disadvantage.
Drew stopped just inches away. His deep brown chest, covered with a light dusting of hair, was close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from it.
“These are the terms that you will agree to,” Drew said. “We meet at my place whenever you’re feeling stressed and need to work off some steam on my much more comfortable bed. However, at least once a week, we meet up for dinner or even just coffee. Outside of the hospital, of course. I agree about keeping the personal and professional separate.”
“I’m not dating you, Drew.”
“I’m not dating you either. That’s not what I’m suggesting.”
“Going out for dinner? What is that if not a date?”
He shrugged. “Two people don’t have to date in order to go to dinner. Think of it as hanging out with a former classmate and friend.”
“I’m not your friend.”
“And I won’t be some faceless dick you screw and forget about. Despite what you may have thought about me all this time, I actually do have some standards, and one of them is not being used.” His brow hitched. “So? What’s it going to be?”
London stared him down, refusing to so much as blink as she considered his terms. The tension between them pulsed like a heartbeat, the steady thump escalating with each second that passed.
She blinked first.
“Fine, you son of a bitch.” She latched on to his shoulders and pulled him to her. Drew caught her by the waist and lifted her up, setting her on the desk.
“For the record, I still don’t like you,” London said.
“But you don’t have to like me to fuck me.” He threw her words from Saturday night back at her.
“You got that right,” she said, wrapping her arms around his head and linking her wrists at the base of his neck. She tilted her head to the side, giving him better access to the spot underneath her jaw where his tongue was currently engaged in all kinds of delicious pursuits.
London squeezed her thighs tight against his hips. This insatiable need she had for him was, without a doubt, the most surprising and frustrating thing to come out of that stupid class reunion. But she could not deny how greedy she was for the pleasure he unleashed on her.
He reached over for his suit jacket and pulled an unopened three pack of condoms from the inside pocket, identical to the one on the nightstand that was down two condoms.
“You brought backup?” London asked.
“I didn’t reach this level of success in life by being unprepared, Dr. Kelley.”
“You’re such a cocky bastard,” she grumbled as she unhooked her bra. She nodded at the foil packet. “Get that thing on.”
He opened one of the condoms and quickly rolled the latex over his erection, then hooked his thumbs onto the waistband of her panties and tugged them off.
London hoisted herself slightly off the desk and thrust her hips toward him, pleasure seizing her limbs as he entered her. He was the perfect fucking girth. Because why wouldn’t her sworn enemy be the perfect fucking girth!
She tried to block out the fact that this was Drew, but something unexplainable denied her that ability. He was too…there. With every drive of his hips, every pull of his mouth on her nipples, he forced her to recognize that he was the source of all the blissful sensations overwhelming her.
He lifted her from the desk and carried her back to the bed, following her down to the mattress. London thrust her hips upward, meeting him as he plunged deep. He hooked his arm under her right knee and lifted it high, forcing her legs to spread farther apart as he drove himself into her over and over again.
She spiraled, the intense pleasure shooting through her limbs, making them seize with anticipation of the mind-blowing orgasm she’d already come to expect from him. It took only a few more pumps of his hips before she erupted with the most breathtakingly exquisite sensations she’d experienced since…since…
Since the last time Drew Sullivan had unleashed his magic dick on her.
He buried his face against her neck as he continued to pummel her with thrust after thrust, until his body went stiff and then shuddered violently against her. He shook with the force of his own orgasm.
“Fuck,” Drew whispered against her skin.
“I concur,” London said.
He let go of her leg and she wrapped both around him, keeping his weight pressed against her.
Over these past few months London had felt as if she’d made one remarkably bad choice after another. From accepting that first date with Craig Johnson to the numerous run-ins she’d had with Dr. Coleman. But there was one thing she was sure about: Concocting a hookup plan with Drew Sullivan was one of her smartest moves in ages.