ClarenceBN by Sarah M. Anderson Page B

grabbed her hands and held them away from his dick. If she went in hard, he wouldn’t last. “Easy,” he growled as he pushed her back onto the bed.
    It was then, when he was over her and she was looking at him that he saw the tension—the fear—ease back. “I always wondered,” she whispered as she looked at his chest. She pulled one of her hands free and ran it down his chest. “Scrubs don’t do you justice.”
    “I’m not as young as I once was,” he told her. Once, he’d been ripped with the kind of body that ladies in ports the world over couldn’t resist. But middle age had made him less cut, more cuddly.  
    She thought about that. “No, probably not. I bet you’re better.”
    Clarence grinned before he kissed her again. She wanted better? He’d show her better. He let his tongue taste her lemonade sweetness before he worked his way back down to those fabulous breasts.  
    He undid the button on her jeans and began kissing down her stomach. Suddenly, she tensed. “No,” she whispered as she covered her stomach.
    He froze. “No?”
    She tried to roll away from him, like she wanted to hide. “Not that. It’s—after I had the baby—”
    “I don’t mind the stretch marks. They’re a part of you.”
    She shook her head. “Not . . . not this time.”
    That was a concession he was willing to make. “Maybe next time?” Because he’d like a next time. Several next times.  
    She didn’t meet his gaze. “Maybe.”
    He wanted her to let go of her self-consciousness but he didn’t want to push the issue right now. So he went back to licking and sucking her nipples. When he scraped his teeth over the hard nub, she bucked against him. That was better.
    He forced himself to sit back and dig the condoms out of the drawer on his bedside table. Tammy sat up and this time, when she reached for his jeans, he didn’t stop her.  
    For years, Clarence had touched people. That was the job. He lifted them onto tables and sewed them back together and performed exams and cleaned wounds. But how long had it been since someone had touched him ?
    Way too long , was all he could think when Tammy slipped her hand into his pants and stroked his dick. “Oh, my,” she whispered as she pushed his jeans and briefs down. He sprang free, at full mast. “Oh, Clarence.”
    Then, before he could stop her, she leaned forward and took him in her mouth.  
    The overwhelming sensation almost did him in. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t even move as Tammy licked along his shaft and took the head of his dick into her mouth again.  
    His eyes drifted shut as she swirled her tongue around his tip. He fisted his hand in her hair. He didn’t know if he was holding her to him or pulling her back—both, maybe. All he knew was that he was desperate for more and just as damned desperate to make her stop. He was supposed to be taking care of her—showing how he could be good for her, not the other way around. “Tammy . . .”
    “Mmm?” she hummed around his dick, which made telling her to stop impossible.  
    “God,” he groaned, his hips flexing as she took him again and again. But when she started to stroke more than just his dick with her hands while she licked him, he had to pull her away before he lost it. “Easy,” he managed to say again, but his voice came out as a strained whisper.  
    She looked up at him with worried eyes. “Not good? I thought . . .”  
    He brushed her hair away from her face and trailed his fingers down her cheek. He could guess what she thought. That the men she’d been with before had always put themselves first, her second. Blow jobs were just as good as sex to a man who didn’t care about his woman.
    And that wasn’t Clarence. “Listen to me, Tammy Tall Trees.” His voice came out as a low growl. “You are not allowed to come after I do. I will always put you first. Always .”
    Her eyes widened in shock and he had to wonder if she’d ever really come—or just settled for what bone