Page 17 of The Doctor

For one delirious moment, I imagined her crawling over me, straddling my lap, grinding her pretty little pussy against my cock. Then I was shaking the thought away, demanding my focus stay on her and what was actually happening.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’re going to fucking talk about it. If you don’t do it here, you can do it in front of your parents when I get you home.”

She spun toward me, but my reflexes were off, and all I could see was the bright red lipstick coating her perfectly plush lips.

“Zeno, please.” Her hand landed on my thigh, and my mind started to tumble into dangerous thoughts, only for her voice to pull me back to the car. “Don’t make me go home. Let me stay at your place tonight. I just… I can’t…”

Her voice broke, and she jerked her hand away from my leg, covering her face as she turned her back on me.

“Hey, kid.” I inched closer, put my hands on her bare shoulders and nearly died as her scent and her warmth assaulted me. “What’s going on?”

She melted under my touch, curling in on herself as she pivoted in her seat, tucking herself into my chest like she belonged there.

My heart fucking raged, telling me that was true. That the feel of her against me was the only thing right in this world.

She sniffled. “Please don’t make me go home, Zee.”

Fucking hell.

Saying no to Clara had never been my strong suit.

Saying no to her when I was high as a kite and she was clinging to me like I was her savior was fucking impossible.

Still, I tried.

“Clara—”

“Please?” She curled her fingers into my shirt, pressed herself harder against my chest.

A silent sigh left me. I gripped her hands, yanking her away from me, if for no other reason than to try to retain that last bit of clarity still rolling around in my head. I looked down at her, intent on demanding an answer to my questions, only to be caught off guard by the movement of her perfect lips.

“I’ll be good,” she promised, and the broken plea in her voice had the last vestiges of my anger toward her crumpling at her feet.

“Fuck!” I slumped back in my seat and wiped my hand down my face.

“So… where am I taking you?” The foreign voice had me reaching for the gun I hadn’t even brought with me. I blinked, bringing into focus the kid in the driver's seat.

Clara lowered her head, turning her face toward the door she’d crawled in just a moment ago, and my chest squeezed as I said the only thing that could possibly bring happiness back to her pretty brown eyes. “Back to my place, where you picked me up.”

The kid punched something into his phone, then pulled out into traffic. As we drove under a streetlight, Clara’s hand found mine. She squeezed my fingers. “Thank you, Zeno.”

The fog in my brain had begun to clear, but I pretended it hadn’t. Pretended I didn’t notice this girl’s fingers woven between mine.

I couldn’t take away her happiness. Not over something as simple as seeking the comfort she could gain from holding my hand.

“You need to learn how to drive.”

Her pretty eyes widened, and her fingers clamped down on mine. “No.”

“No? What do you mean, no?”

She pulled her hand from mine—it was just as well—and crossed her arms over her chest. I forced my gaze to her face, forced myself to not stare as I noticed the way her posture pushed up her tits.

I swore, I could see her bottom lip trembling as she averted her gaze. “The last time I tried to drive, my anxiety was so bad, I hit two cars before even leaving the driveway. My mother refuses to drive with me, and she won’t let her driver do it either. She said I’ll never figure it out.”

A breath huffed out of me. “And you believed her?” Clara didn’t move, so I pushed myself up in my seat, closing some of the distance between us. “Remind me how you backed down when your fourth-grade teacher told you you’d never amount to anything. Remind me how you walked away when your fifth-grade teacher said you couldn’t be in the advanced classes in middle school because of the grade on one single test.”