S.O.S. (Doctor Drama Book 3)

by Amanda Faye

  “Nice to meet you too, Emma.” He’s grinning ear to ear, which I take to mean ‘why are we pretending we’ve never met before.’ He openly runs his eyes up and down my body, and I feel the blush color my cheeks crimson.

  Instead of butterflies in my belly, there’s a whole herd of elephants pounding to escape the lion chasing them.

  Trying to avoid making eye contact with Logan, I look over towards where Noah and Lizzy are conferencing together. Noah’s back is turned towards us with his hand on her hip, and I smile as I always do seeing the care he takes with her. Lizzy, however, is watching us with a questioning lint in her eyes, and I feel my face get even hotter. She raises her eyebrow in suspicion, and I give her the same imperceptible head shake that I gave Logan mere minutes before. I hear him make a noise and whip my head around to see him covering his mouth with the back of his hand, turning what was a chuckle into a cough.

  I bounce on my toes like I have ants in my pants, and when I feel myself tugging on my ponytail, I stop so abruptly that I must look like a lunatic. I’m worse than when Brandon has to pee.

  Logan keeps trying to catch my eye, but I studiously avoid looking in his direction. He reaches up and runs his hands through his hair, and I feel my womb clench in memory.

  Watching him in the mirror, with one of his hands on the small of my back, the other pushing his scraggly hair out of his eyes. Never breaking his stride as he pummeled into me from behind.

  Holy Fucking Shit.

  “We need to change, and then we’ll meet you, ladies, at the bar. Ellabeth says you’re coming with us to dinner?”

  I start at Noah speaking to me, and it’s that hesitation that does me in.

  As I gather myself to decline, Lizzy and Logan both speak up simultaneously.

  “Yeah, she is,” and, “That sounds like a great idea.”

  Lizzy’s voice with hard with a brook no argument edge to it, and Logan is all but giddy in his response.

  Fuck me sideways.

  “Oh yeah. Umm, but, I think Darcy needed me for something.” Already I’m trying to edge my way past Logan in an attempt to flee.

  “Darcy’s in surgery. He said he’d meet us at the bar if he got out in time.” There is no way in hell I’m sitting in a bar with both Logan and my brother.

  Fucking Hell Noah. He’s either as dumb as he looks or is purposefully ignoring the death glare I’m sending in his direction. In contrast, Logan is smiling like the cat that ate the canary. I don’t know him very well, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that he was enjoying himself.

  “Go, change guys, we’ll see you downstairs.”

  With a hand on his chest and a lift on her toes, she plants a kiss on Noah’s lips then shoves him in the direction of the locker room door. Emma takes me by the arm and starts leading me down the hallway, and I swear I feel Logan’s eyes on my ass until we turn the corner out of the corridor. When we get to the elevator, she stops anyone from following us with a firm “out,” and a dirty look then pushes the door shut button until they silently slide into place. Crossing her arms over her chest, she places herself in front of me and gives me the look. For someone so tiny, she sure can be scary when she wants to be.

  “Emma Joanna Adams, start talking right now.”

  Chapter 3

  Logan

  I head to the bar and order a second set of beers, then lean across the counter and grab a pen I see sitting by the register. Using a cocktail napkin, I write a note to Emma.

  When they leave, stay. I want to talk to you.

  Winking at the bartender, I push two twenties in her direction and hand her back her pen as she gives me the beers.

  It’s easy enough to pretend to bungle the carrying of the bottles and drop the cocktail napkin into her lap when I place her beer in front of her. It takes all my will power not to rub up against her as I invade her personal space. I know I lean in more than strictly necessary, but I can’t help myself. The tension between us is electrifying, and I’m surprised everyone in the building with us can’t feel it.

  I sit back in my spot across from her and bring the bottle to my lips to cover my staring at her. She looks surreptitiously at her friends next to her, then peeks into her lap before quickly looking around again. This whole evening she’s looked like a kid who got caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar, and it’s been abso-fucking-lutely adorable.

  Emma fucking Adams.

  In a matter of seconds, my plans for the next three months wholly altered. Initially, I’d planned on enjoying my time in the new environment by seeing the sights and tasting the local flavors, if you know what I mean. But now, my one and only goal is to spend as much time in Emma Adams's bed as I possibly can.

  I admit that after my divorce, I may have reverted to my man whoring ways, but that night in Mexico was magical, even for me. I never really expected her to show up in my hotel room that night. I mean, I hoped she did. God, I get a semi just sitting here thinking about how much I wanted her to, but I never actually thought she would. Imagine my surprise when she not only shows up but does so with a bottle of vodka and a box of condoms — a box we put to damn good use that night. We finally collapsed from exhaustion sometime after four a.m., and when I woke up again at ten, she was gone. No note and the only trace she’d even been there the marks on my body and the mess of the room. When I called down to the front desk, they told me she checked out an hour ago.

  I was halfway done typing her name into my search engine when I decided to leave well enough alone. If she’d wanted me to know about her, she would have told me. Besides, perfection like that couldn’t happen twice. It was a once in a lifetime experience. But fuck me if memories of that night hadn’t kept my spank bank overflowing in the months after.

  So, imagine my surprise when I’m chatting with Noah about last-minute details about his department, mentally matching the phone numbers in my pockets with the women who gave them to me today, when I see the firecracker from Mexico staring at me from the end of the hallway with a deer in the headlights look on her face.

  “Okay. That’s it for us. We have to be up at five a.m. tomorrow. Let me give you a ride back to your apartment, Logan.”

  Noah stands and stretches, then reaches into his wallet and throws a couple of bills down onto the table. I make the reach for my own wallet, but he silently shuts me down. I read up about him before I came, so I don’t feel so bad letting him pay for dinner. He can afford it. His wife, who is literally half his size, puts her head together with Emma then gives her friend a hug. I notice her staring at me over Emma’s shoulders, so I give her a quick wink and a salute with my beer.

  Praying I have the right foot, I press my toes firmly on the shoe I’ve found under the table, and see Emma’s eyes widen in confirmation that I got the right girl.

  I wiggle my eyebrows in her direction, hoping she’ll take the hint.

  Throughout dinner, she’s been trying to ignore me, and I’ve done my best to bring her attention back round at every opportunity. Her discomfort is blatant, with the constant tugging of her ponytail and her bottom lip between her teeth most of the meal, and it gives me a sick sense of pleasure knowing I caused it.

  “Oh, umm, I’ll take him, home guys. It’s only down the street, you said. You need to get going. Make sure you message me as soon as you get there.”

  Emma rises with Lizzy and embraces her one more time, then turns her attention to hugging Noah. Instead of shaking the hand I put out for Liz, she uses it to pull me to her and hugs me as well. Taking it in stride, I wrap my arms quickly around the tiny surgeon before letting her go.

  I shake Noah’s hand, and assure him that his department is in good hands with me, and continue to stand as he and his wife make their way out of the bar.

  Emma has already sat back down and is fidgeting nervously with the straw in her water. Instead of re-taking the chair across from her that I’ve been sitting in the last hour, I grab the chair closest to Emma, pulling it closer still and s
it back down next to her.

  Resting my arm around the back of her chair, I invade her personal space. My knee hits her leg, and I see her try to squirm away farther on her seat. I clear my throat loudly and with purpose and grin at her waiting for her to speak.

  “Thank you for that. I guess. For not announcing that we knew each other, I mean.”

  “You’re welcome, but there was no need to pretend that we hadn’t already met. We could have said we’d met at the conference without telling them that I gave you the best sex of your life.”

  Finally, I get a reaction besides panic out of her, and she turns to face me. The blush is rising up her cheeks, and it makes me smile even wider. This shy timid little creature I’ve seen tonight is nothing like the hellcat I fucked sideways at the conference this summer, and the differences have me fascinated.

  “Best sex of my life, huh? Think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you? It was good, I won’t try to deny that, but best? That’s pushing it. I didn’t even remember your name.”

  Ouch. That hurts. I wince in pretend agony and bring my hand to my chest.

  “That’s a shame because it was the best sex of mine.”

  Her eyes are blazing, as she takes in a little gasp of breath. I want nothing more right now than to lift her onto the table and pull that pretty pink turtleneck over her head.

  “Stop flirting with me.”

  “I’m not flirting.” Yes, I am.

  “Yes, you are.” See, told ya.

  “No, this is just my natural personality shining through.”

  “Oh God, unfortunately, I think that’s true.” She can’t hide her smile through her disgust, though, so I take that as a win.

  Deciding to give her a break, I sit up straight in my chair again, reaching over the table to grab my beer.

  The flush on her cheeks is beautiful, and I chuckle to myself as I watch her down the rest of her own drink.

  “So Emma, we didn’t do much talking the last time we met. Tell me, do you have a boyfriend?”

  “No, and I’m not interested in getting one either. I have enough on my plate as it is without dealing with a man-child’s feelings.”

  “Man-Child?” I put my curiosity into my voice and wait for her explanation.

  “Yes. Man-child. The person who has the body of a man, and thinks he’s a man but has the emotional maturity of a child. Undependable and thinks only about his own needs. Man-Child. There are very few true men out there these days. I’m done wasting my time looking. What about you?”

  There’s a story there, but I’m in no place to pry.

  “I’m not interested in a Man-Child either, thanks. It sounds like a lot of work.”

  I put my best twinkle on display and am rewarded with an exasperated smile. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

  I thought she looked good in the way that bright blue pencil skirt grabbed her ass in the conference center all those months ago. I really thought she looked good spread out underneath me. But this half angry half horny incarnation in front of me now takes the cake. Her long blonde hair is up in a tail, and I’m desperate to take the holder out and run my fingers through it. This is the first time I’ve gotten a clear look at her eyes in light since the first time we met, and while their center is light blue, they’re ringed in an outline of navy blue. You don’t see too many tri-colored eyes like hers.

  She’s taller than your average woman, probably 5’8 or 9, but still short enough that she has to angle up to look me in the eyes. Her body is full and curvy, just the way I like it. She's nowhere near overweight but has plenty of meat on her bones to give you something to hold on to while you’re fucking her inside out. Those jeans she’s wearing are so tight on her ass they should be illegal, and the black leather boots her lower legs are encased in are hot. One of these days, I’m going to have her ride me wearing those and only those.

  “Anybody pining away for you in New York?’

  I briefly think of my ex-wife, then smile when I picture little Ellie pleading for me to bring her to Denver with me this morning on our facetime.

  “Yes, there most certainly is. But I don’t think my seven-year-old Goddaughter is what you meant. She’s got it bad for me, though. I’ve been gone less than a week, and already she’s telling me her mommies are driving her b-a-n-a-n-a-s bananas. Direct Quote.”

  That earns me my first genuine smile from her of the night, and I really want to see it looking up at me from the flat of her back.

  “I better get home before I turn into a pumpkin.”

  I follow her lead and pull out my wallet to toss another twenty onto the table. Pulling on my jacket, I trail her into the parking lot.

  She’s so fucking cute, and for one reason or another, her obvious discomfort just makes me like her more. The woman I met in Mexico was a sex kitten incarnate, and this earthly version of her is intoxicating.

  “I have a proposition for you.” Shit. I didn’t mean to come out with it quite that boldly. I’m thinking with the wrong head again.

  We’ve reached what I presume is her car, and she turns and places her back against the driver’s side door. I don’t want to scare her off, so I put both of my hands in my jacket pockets. What I really want to do is rub them all over her, but I’ll bide my time.

  “And what sort of proposition could you possibly have to offer me? By the way, thanks again, you know, for earlier. For real. I panicked, seeing you slow motion down the hallway like that. Seeing you again was the last thing I ever expected.”

  “Slow motioned?”

  The blush that rises up her cheeks is adorable. Slow motioned?

  “Never mind. Forget I said it, please. I just meant thanks for not blowing my cover.”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I had a good time in Mexico. I think we already established that you did too.”

  I see her swallow, and it takes all of my will power to resist leaning forward and licking down her throat. If I really wanted her to be, she’d be in my bed by the end of the night. But patience. It’s best if I work her there slowly.

  “I don’t want to talk about what happened in Mexico.”

  “Fair enough. That’s not what I want to talk about anyways. Not really. I’m only going to be here for a couple of months. And then I’m gone. So like I said, I have a proposition for you. Much like the one I gave you in Mexico, only extended. Three months. No muss, no fuss, just sex. After which, it’s over, and we both go on with our lives. But while I’m here, I say we take advantage of our previous, mmmm introduction.”

  I moan out my mmmm sound and see the reaction in the flare of lust behind her eyes. The last time I made that noise for her, my mouth was on her clit.

  “Excuse me? Are you honestly suggesting I become your temporary booty call?”

  “Friends with benefits is what the kids call it these days, I believe. And yes, yes, I am.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to tell you that I don’t sleep with co-workers.”

  “Don’t think of me as a co-worker then. I’m more like a specialty item. Here for a limited time only.”

  “You’re trouble. That’s what you are, Dr. Taylor.”

  She wants to sound irritated, but the quiver in her voice gives her away. A gust of wind crawls up our spines, and I take that as my cue. Fuck working her there slowly. Putting my hands on either side of her on the car, I lean in slowly and gently place my lips on hers. When I don’t face any resistance, I flick my tongue out against her skin and relish the little moan that leaves her lips. I use that to my advantage, and dart my tongue into her mouth, swallowing her sounds with my own. When her arms wrap around me, and she uses my jacket to pull me flush against her, I know that I’ve won, at least for tonight.

  We don’t pull apart until I feel the snowflakes melting on our skin. Time and space must have melted away because when I come back up for air, I realize she’s shivering, and my balls are freezing off.

  “Do you still want that ride home?”

  Her voice is b
reathless, and she hasn’t released her hold on my jacket. Unable to stop myself, I lean in and suck a little on the skin underneath her ear. It’s cold against my lips, and I bring the blood under her skin up to the surface. Her shoulder’s rise to meet her ears, and she lets out the most adorable giggles.

  “That tickles. Stop it, Logan.”

  At the press of her hands against my chest, I desist but confirm that yes, I certainly need a ride home. And desperately need to be ridden when we get there.

  Chapter 4

  Emma

  Evanescence Going under

  All it takes is the cold air slapping me in the face to bring me back to my senses.

  He opens my door for me, then shuts it as I settle myself behind the driver's seat. By the time Logan's made it around the car and is pulling open the passenger door, my higher brain function has kicked back in.

  What is it about him that makes me throw all of my common sense out the window? Making out like teenagers in the middle of the parking lot? God Emma! In the snow, no less.

  The sound of his car door shutting brings me back to myself, and I start the car, turning the heat up on high.

  "I'm over at the Hightower Gardens. Do you know where that's at?"

  Of course, I do. I've lived in Denver for over ten years now.

  "Sure. Smart, getting an apartment on the same street as the hospital. Harder for you to get lost that way."

  He's got snow melting on his hair, and I start to tell him he should wear a beanie before I snap my mouth shut. Bossing people around comes naturally to me, but better not seem any crazier than I already have today.

  "I was debating about whether I needed a rental car when I picked it. I don't have a car in New York; I either use the subway, or my bike when weather permits, so I wanted a place to crash within walking distance."

  "Bike? As in a bicycle?"

  "No. I have an old Indian motorcycle."