Doctor Kim

Chapter 7

It wasn't the first time I'd seen her bed. I'd been in Minji's room a few times over the years. During the Kim's family Christmas party, we'd put our coats on it. But I looked at the gold textured duvet now with new eyes.

She made her bed perfectly. There weren't piles of shirts or dirty socks on the floor, or empty Mountain Dew cans on the bedside table like Jay's room downstairs. This was the room of someone—a precise adult—and it wasn't surprising. I'd known since the beginning how Dr. Kim liked everything in its place. She lined the cooking utensils up in the drawers in the kitchen like they were her surgical instruments.

The room smelled like her.

Minji's grip on my hips softened, and her hands slid up my back, so slowly it felt like she was going one vertebrae of my spine at a time. Heat rose along with her hands, and goosebumps pebbled across my thighs.

She didn't kiss me. Instead, she hovered, her breath rolling over my lips as her eyes searched every inch of my face. I hungered for her mouth on mine but felt strangely too shy to take what I wanted. So, I waited, balancing on the edge for her to move. To close the last inch of space between us and claim me.

Please, a seductive voice in my mind whined. What are you waiting for?

Could she read my thoughts through my eyes? "If I kiss you," she said, "that's it. I don't think I'll be able to stop."

I exhaled softly and stared at her lips. I was here, ready. Desperate. "Then, kiss me."

She moved fast, sealing her mouth over mine and stealing all the air from the room.

The kiss was explosive. Heat flared from where her lips met mine, spreading outward like wildfire, engulfing me. I cased her neck with my hands, pretending to steady her when I was really stabilizing myself. Everything went weak inside me. My bones turned to jelly.

I was cold when she peeled the tank top up over my head and dropped it to the floor, but then her hands were on me, her fingertips tracing the lines of my bra. My hands found their home back on her neck, and I could feel her hurried pulse beneath my palms. The thin fabric of my delicate bra was all that stood in her way, but she seemed to enjoy touching me like this. Skirting the edge before diving in.

Her soft tongue slid into my mouth and caressed, and instinctively, my hand grabbed a fistful of hair at the base of her skull. I wasn't going to be able to stand much longer if she kept kissing me like that. I pulsed with need.

Fingertips worked the clasp of my bra, and it popped loose, sliding down to catch on my elbows. I tossed it aside and reached for the hem of her shirt, but she beat me to it. Up the cotton t-shirt went, and then it was cast off, bringing her solid form into view. I wasn't prepared for how good she looked.

I swallowed hard when she pressed our warm, naked skin together. If it was supposed to be wrong, why the hell did it feel right?

Somehow, between our passionate, greedy kisses and wandering hands, I found myself backed up to the bed, where the duvet touched the backs of my thighs below my shorts. Her hands cupped my breasts and pushed them together, making it easier for her to run her lips and tongue from one aching nipple to the other, and back again.

Shivers shook my shoulders. I skimmed my hand over the waistband of her jeans, lingering at the button. Just enough to threaten what I was thinking about doing. How much further I was willing to go.

It was challenging undoing the button at the top of her jeans, but she held still and let me. I clawed my unsteady fingers at her zipper, and then shoved the pants down over her hips.

For a split second, I marveled at how soft her underwear was. Rich, black fabric covered her, but did nothing to hide her dick straining beneath. She gave a quiet hiss of pleasure as I smoothed my palm over the long, thick length of her. Jesus, she was big.