Page 26 of The Doctor

Face squished between my palms, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t do this.”

Slowly, she dragged her hand away, and there was no stopping the groan that rumbled through my chest as her fingers left my dick.

“Why not?” She hadn’t raised her voice, and I hadn’t removed my hands from her cheeks.

“Because…” I started, but I couldn’t find a single one of the reasons I’d been telling myself since I first noticed her that way.

I squeezed my eyes shut, tried to take a deep breath. But I was assaulted by Clara’s delectable scent.

“Our age,” I finally managed. “I’m old enough to be your father.”

“But you’re not.” She brushed her fingers along the short hairs on my chin. “You’re not my father. You actually care about me.”

My eyes snapped open, and I found hers focused on a spot on my shirt. “Your father loves you.”

She scoffed, pulling out of my grasp. “He sure has a funny way of showing it.” She crossed her arms under her breasts. “He’s never home. He’s never come to a single performance or conference at school. He never asks me how my day is or what I’m doing in my life. The best thing he’s ever done for me is sending me off to your place every chance he gets.”

“Clara—”

“At least with you, I feel like I’m loved. With you, I’m not ignored or poked and prodded until I can’t stand being in my own body or head. With you, I don’t have my mother’s impossibly high standards to compete against, and I can just be… me.”

The world around us fell silent, and any words I could possibly say to make her feel better escaped me. Everything she said had occurred to me at some point in the past. I had just hoped it hadn’t occurred to her.

Adalberto and Daphne had always expected excellence with both their children. Stephano achieved everything they’d ever hoped for and more.

But Clara.

My beautiful, broken Clara.

Nothing she’d ever done was good enough for them.

It was one more reason why I’d always taken her in every time they showed up at my front door.

I loved her.

I’d always loved her.

Just, not like this.

The problem was, I could still taste her on my lips and my tongue. I could still feel her hands upon me, sliding over my chest, my stomach…

My dick.

I was still hard, and I still wanted her the way I should never, ever want this girl.

I didn’t know how to tell her that without hurting her.

Reaching for her face once more, I opened my mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by three hard knocks at the driver’s side window.

Clara jerked away from the door, a scream wrenching from her throat that was so loud, I wasn’t sure my eardrums didn’t burst. I slammed my hands against the sides of my head, slammed my head against my own window as Clara scrambled into my lap, both her elbow and knee somehow slamming against my still-hard dick in her attempt to get away.

I grabbed hold of her, slapping one hand over her mouth as my free arm wrapped around her and held her against my chest. Through the window, Maso stood with eyes as wide as saucers and his face frozen in shock.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Vinci. Mr. Fierro.” The steward’s voice barely registered through the ringing in my ears. His mouth moved again, but I couldn’t understand what he said.

“What?” I asked, shaking my head.