Fever Read Online Free PDF Page B

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
    She sagged onto the pillow. Whatever the doctor had given her was powerful. Her brain was filled with haze, but the heat that prickled her body was still winning the fight. Her skin felt tender. Everywhere he touched her burned.
    He held a thermometer to her lips. “The doctor wants me to check your temperature. You haven’t cooled down at all.”
    Her brain couldn’t sort out his words.
    “Relax.”
    She couldn’t relax. The heat was burning her from the inside out. And the need. It was raging. Not again. Not again . The power of the desire scared her. There was no build-up this time. It hit her straight on at full force. Delia squeezed her eyes tight, trying to fight the wildness inside her.
    What was wrong with her? She never lost control like this. It required too much trust. In him , a man she barely knew, yet whose respect she wanted deeply. How could he respect her if she behaved so outrageously?
    “That’s a good girl. Hold it under your tongue. It will only take a moment.”
    She groaned. She needed him again. Needed him more than her inhibitions could hide. She tried to remain still, but her hips had a mind of their own. They rocked from side to side, trying to get pressure where she wanted it the most. His hand settled against the small of her back.
    “Hold still,” he ordered.
    Hold still? It was like asking her not to breathe. She didn’t need a temperature measurement to know her body was on fire. Her hips hitched.
    “Delia, stop it,” he hissed. “The doctor is still on the phone.”
    The caress of his hand was in direct contrast to the firm tone of his voice. If the touch was meant to soothe, it had precisely the opposite effect. Her fervor cranked up a notch. She didn’t want his touch on her back. She wanted it lower… between her legs… inside her again.  She wiggled her hips in distress, and felt his hold on her stiffen.  And then start to slide down…
    The thermometer beeped, and he jerked his hand away from her.  “Damn it, you’re at 103. She’s at 103, Doc.”
    Numbers meant nothing. Need did. Delia swung her hips determinedly toward him.
    “Fuck,” he said in a low, tight voice.
    Yes, fuck. She wanted to fuck.
    Drawing her knees to her chest, she lifted her bottom high into the air. She wanted him enough to relinquish control. Enough to put herself into his hands and trust him to take care of her. She wiggled her hips, and his hand clapped onto her butt cheek to stop her. His fingers bit, but she only rubbed up against him harder. Respect her or not, he had to help her. If he didn’t, the fire would rage unrestrained and only cinders would be left.
    “Uh, Doc?” His voice cracked. “Are there any side effects of this medication I should know about?”
    “What kind? Uh… sexual ?”
    Delia grabbed the headboard. The heat was building. “Hurry,” she moaned.
    “It’s the fever?” He cleared his throat. “What would you recommend I do?”
    There was a long, heavy pause.
    “Yeah, I heard you,” he said gruffly. “Are you sure?”
    His fingers gentled, almost stroking her, and Delia cried out. Her pussy throbbed, and she felt dampness against her thighs.
    He muffled the phone against his shoulder. “Wait ‘til I get off the phone, hot stuff. And hold still!”
    How could she hold still when he was touching her the way he was? Her back arched, and she shuddered uncontrollably. “Oooh,” she groaned.             
    “Christ, Delia.”
    She couldn’t help it. It felt too sinfully good.
    His fingers bit into her overheated flesh. “You’re sick, baby,” he hissed. “I’m not going to do this.”
    If anything, his fingers dipped deeper into the crevice between her butt cheeks, and Delia’s hips craned higher to meet him. She turned her face on the pillow, and their gazes collided.
    A muscle pulsed along his jaw, but he kept his concentration on the phone call. “Right. Keep up with the medication, cold packs,