The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 154

The words were blunt and fiercely provocative.

A dark storm brewed in Miles's eyes.

Claire didn't back down; instead, she pushed her luck.

She unhooked her finger from his chin and dragged her fingertip against his bobbing Adam's apple, tracing a slow, deliberate path downward.

She glided over his taut, heaving chest, down the rigid lines of his abs, until she came to a perfect stop right at his belt buckle.

Her slender finger pressed down gently.

*Click.*

The faint metallic snap was deafening in the dead of the night.

She looked up at him, a glint of moisture at the corners of her eyes, but her gaze was alight with blatant testing.

"Dr. Zimmerman, why are you always breaking your promises?"

Miles's body temperature skyrocketed. He seized her wandering hand, every syllable he spoke teetering on the edge of a total loss of control.

"Claire, stop playing."

"Fine, fine, I'll stop. Dr. Zimmerman is a saint with no earthly desires. I wouldn't dare provoke you."

Claire pulled her hand free, turned around, and walked back to apartment 502.

Miles watched her walk away, his heart still hammering violently against his ribs.

It wasn't that he didn't want to—he craved her right down to his very bones.

But he had just gotten back from Blue Ridge County and didn't want to exhaust her.

Claire took a hot shower, threw open her closet, and slipped into a burgundy slip dress. It had a plunging neckline, a completely bare back, and the hem barely reached her mid-thigh.

The woman in the mirror looked radiant and undeniably seductive. She arched an eyebrow at her reflection.

She had no intention of letting tonight end so easily. She had only gone back to 502 to change into her battle armor.

The more he tried to hold back, the more she wanted to pry him open and watch him completely shatter.

Claire punched in the passcode and opened the door to 501.

The living room was pitch black, but a warm light spilled from the study.

She walked over softly and pushed the door open.

Miles was sitting behind his desk, staring intently at his computer screen, looking the picture of professional elegance.

Claire's voice was sweet and velvety, intentionally drawing out her words.

"Dr. Zimmerman, stop looking at the screen. Look at me. Do I look good?"

Miles looked up at the sound, his gaze freezing on her.

Claire frowned in displeasure. What kind of reaction was that?

The very next second, a chorus of surprised voices erupted from the computer speakers.

"That voice... that's Ms. Jenner, right?"

"Yeah, that's her! The daughter of the patient in bed 36."

"Oh my god, they're still together this late?"

"Ahhh, they are so cute! Congratulations, Dr. Zimmerman!"

...

A chaotic mix of voices rang out, blending with giggles and teasing cheers.

Claire froze in place.

Was Miles in the middle of a virtual meeting with his medical interns?

What had she just done?! Did she really just ask a bunch of students if they thought she looked good for their professor?

Claire wanted the floor to swallow her whole.

Miles gave a low instruction, "Keep working on your research papers for now."

He muted his microphone and walked over to her. His eyes swept over the scandalous dress and all that exposed skin, his Adam's apple bobbing involuntarily.

Claire naturally straddled his hips.

The burgundy slip dress bunched up around her thighs, baring expansive stretches of pale skin.

She kissed him with a frantic urgency, almost as if she were venting her frustrations, her teeth clashing messily against his lips.

She pulled back, gripping his collar while panting heavily.

"Miles, do you have protection in your apartment?"

The man's eyes were pitch black, his voice terribly hoarse. "I do, but..."

Claire kissed him again. "But what?"

"I want you."

Miles's large hands clamped onto her waist as he stood up, lifting her with him. Her legs locked around his waist like a koala, holding on tight.

The bedroom door was pushed open.

Miles laid her down in the center of the plush bed. As the mattress dipped, he hovered over her. He opened his mouth to say something, but Claire slapped her hand over his mouth.

"Are you still asking questions? Are you actually incapable of doing this?"

The last shred of hesitation in the man's eyes was incinerated.

He reached out, yanked open the nightstand drawer, and pulled out a small, square foil packet.

Claire glanced at the brand size. "You secretive beast, you..."

Halfway through her sentence, she froze.

A familiar, heavy cramping sensation gripped her lower abdomen, followed by the slow release of something warm.

Claire's entire body went rigid.

Miles instantly noticed the change in her demeanor. He propped himself up and looked at her. "What's wrong?"

"I..." She bit her lip, her expression incredibly conflicted, her voice dropping to a near whisper.

"I think my period just started..."