Dr. Hottie: Bad Boy Doctors Book 2

by Virna DePaul

  “So, Mr. Erikson,” I said. “What is it you do for a living?”

  He sat down across me and adjusted his bow tie. “We are Swedish royals on vacation, darling. We are used to only the finest luxury. The rumor among the people is that we fuck on 1000 Krona bills thrown over the fur by the fireplace in the royal palace. We fuck wearing nothing but royal jewels on the family’s private jet. We hike the fjords for days in designer athletic wear just to reach the highest peak only to fuck and then turn back.” He reached for the bottle and poured us each a glass of champagne and raised his. “To being royals.”

  Damn, he looked so sure, so confident, so hot. I raised my glass, too. “To being royals.”

  Neither of us broke eye contact as we sipped. The flash of the sun on the ocean was nothing compared to the sparks I felt between us.

  “You look beautiful.” His voice was barely above a whisper. It felt reverent, as if I was sacred. “Did you follow my instructions?”

  The darker edge to his voice made me shiver. “Yes,” I barely managed to croak out.

  He grinned. “Good. Care for a helicopter ride, Ms. Erikson?”

  I couldn’t say no.

  Noah’s hand rested on my ass as he guided me to the helicopter. The pilot and the airport workers most definitely saw him do it. That turned me on, just like my fantasy had last night. The pilot approached to strap me in, but Noah...no, Mr. Erickson...sent just one look over his shoulder, and the pilot shuffled away.

  As he leaned over me, I could smell cedar and citrus. After he clicked the seat belt, his fingers traced the V-neck of my dress.

  “You’re gorgeous in this dress, but I made a mistake,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “You did?”

  “Yes, it’s far too much material. Next time, I’ll get you something sleeker. Shorter.”

  I swallowed hard at his casual mention of “next time.” As we waited for the pilot to run through the safety check and get the helicopter blades spinning, Noah slipped his hand behind my neck and shifted in his seat.

  “Pull your dress higher,” he whispered.

  I tugged the hem of feather-light material up to my mid-calf.

  “Higher.”

  I tried not to squirm as I pulled the chiffon up over my knee. His grip on the back of my neck tightened.

  “Higher, Mrs. Erikson.”

  I glanced at the pilot in the front of the helicopter to make sure he was busy with the controls and gears, then slid the chiffon right up to my mid-thigh. Noah’s hand moved from my neck and pulled it even higher before squeezing the flesh of my upper thigh.

  I bit down on my finger and looked out the window to regain control of myself. But his hand pulled my finger away from my mouth and hooked under my chin to turn my head. I met Noah’s dark blue eyes illuminated by the rays of sunset. His thumb tugged at my bottom lip.

  “I want you.”

  His hand left my thigh and his finger left my chin, and I was left yearning for his touch.

  The helicopter rose from the tarmac. We pulled our headsets over our ears as the pilot flew the helicopter toward the beach, right to the stunning sunset bursting forth from the horizon.

  “Where did you get the money for this?” I asked into the microphone.

  He grinned over at me. “From the royal vaults.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, really. This must have cost a fortune.”

  He grabbed my hand and pressed a kiss to it. “Tell me your real name, Mrs. Erikson.”

  I hesitated as his eyes burned into mine. Should I berate him for trying to interrupt our game? Instead, I simply said, “I hope the king isn’t terribly mad at us.”

  The helicopter turned so that we flew directly along the coast. On my side was the wild jungle turning darker as the light faded. It was untamed, dangerous, and beautiful. On Noah’s side were streaks of pink and orange and yellow. It was brilliant and gorgeous, but temporary. Fleeting.

  I laid my head on Noah’s shoulder and he caressed my cheek as we watched the sunset together. That moment was everything I’d never thought I’d have in my life. Everything I’d never thought I could have in my life.

  The roar of the helicopter blades above us only heightened the sensation of his touch on my face, my neck, my arm. It was as if I’d gone deaf and my sense of touch tripled. Every graze of his finger was fire, every beat of his heart an earthquake, every squeeze of his hand a vice I never wanted to escape from.

  I’d fallen deep into the evening’s spell. As the brilliant light of the sunset faded and night swept in, I realized I’d forgotten I wasn’t actually cuddled up next to Mr. Erikson. No, for the past dreamy moments, I’d believed I was Mrs. Erikson, wearing this dress, flying in this helicopter, enjoying the touch of a man who was truly mine. And the disappointment I felt as I crashed back to reality nearly had me gasping in pain.

  The helicopter circled back to the airport and landed on the tarmac. Noah unbuckled my seat belt, and my stomach clenched. I knew I’d made a mistake. I never should have played into his fantasy. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. It hurt me inside, to know it was temporary. Fleeting. And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt such pain, even with everything that had happened with Oliver so long ago.

  When we exited the helicopter, Noah held my hand and led me back to the car. Would we return to the hotel together? Join me in my room so we could continue the fantasy that we were married and had the rest of our lives to spend together?

  The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to know about him. The more I wanted to tell him about myself. The more I wanted to think, hope, believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be someone who could support me in my career but also be there after I clocked out, to laugh and love and have fun with. But that was my weakness. Wanting a thriving career and exhilarating passion. And that was an impossible combination. At least with someone like Noah. Because while I had no idea what he did for a living, the fact he’d whisked me away in a helicopter for a sunset flight told me more than anything he wasn’t an average ordinary man who would take a backseat to my career. And as such, we should really end things now.

  “Noah,” I said, turning to him. “I can’t be Mrs. Erikson.”

  His easy smile faded when he realized I was being serious. “Okay, we don’t have to Mr. and Mrs. Erikson anymore. We can be anyone we want. No strings attached. I thought you were into it.”

  “It’s just…as tempting as it is to pretend, I can’t be anyone else. I have responsibilities that can’t be so easily forgotten. I need to be smart, and being smart means keeping sight of who I am, even on a vacation.”

  He looked confused as he moved his hand toward me, but I pulled my own back.

  His voice was soft. “But you won’t even tell me who you are.”

  I stared down at my hands and didn’t know what to say. This game was only going to end in pain. I couldn’t play, I shouldn’t play. And the hardest part was that I wanted to. I wanted to so terribly.

  So I said all I could think to say. “I can’t be Mrs. Erikson.”

  I got in the car and he got in beside me. We rode along the twisty road in silence after that. I just couldn’t, I told myself again and again.

  I just couldn’t risk losing more than I already have.

  Because this time, I might not be able to find my way back.

  Chapter 5

  Noah

  * * *

  Honestly, when I’d planned the helicopter ride for this evening, I hadn’t expected I’d be returning to my luxury suite alone. As I stepped inside, I switched on a table lamp before heading to the kitchen and untying my bow tie. As I poured myself a shot of tequila, I pondered what went wrong.

  Everything had seemed perfect. Just perfect. The helicopter. The sunset. Her.

  And then it all just fell apart. Did I say something wrong? Did I come on too strong?

  I saw desire in her eyes—I know I did. But she’d pulled back, just like she had every other time. And I di
dn’t know why.

  I sighed just as I heard the buzzer at the door. Crossing the living room, I pressed the call button. “Yes?”

  “Hello, sir. This is Rodrigo.”

  Rodrigo was one of the men who manned the concierge desk in the building where the luxury suites were located.

  “Yes, Rodrigo?”

  “I have a woman down here who’s requesting permission to come up to your suite.”

  It couldn’t be her. She’d made that perfectly clear when she hurried out of the car the second it pulled into the hotel’s front drive. Had I drunkenly ordered a hooker? Did that redhead from the restaurant find my room number?

  “What’s her name?” I asked.

  I heard snippets of the front desk attendant speaking to whoever this woman was. His voice returned, crackling through the speaker.

  “Sir, she says to tell you she’s the woman in the gold dress.”

  I jammed my finger into the talk button. “Let her up.”

  “Yes, sir,” came the voice I barely heard.

  My head spun, and I tried not to make assumptions about why she’d sought me out. When I heard the elevator outside my room ding, I opened the door to my suite.

  She was still wearing the gold dress, holding a glass of champagne.

  “Carmen,” I said, so startled to see her there and still in that sexy dress. I don’t know why I called her Carmen instead of one of her other made-up names; I just knew she hadn’t wanted to be called Mrs. Erickson.

  The image of her bare back swaying as the beads glistened in the rays of sunlight filled my mind. She was holding a bottle of champagne. Without a word, she walked up to me, her eyes were dark and dangerous. Reaching up, she used her free hand to slowly pull my loose bow tie from my collar, dangling it in front of me.

  “I need you, Mr. Erikson.”

  Those were the only words I needed to hear. I knelt and picked up the hem of her expensive dress. Gripping each side, I ripped a long slit up the middle, biting her inner thigh before grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her up into my arms.

  Freed from the constriction of her dress, she locked her legs behind me. The champagne bottle slammed into my back as she wrapped her arms around me. Then her teeth were digging into my bottom lip. I wanted to feel that pain for the rest of my life.

  I carried her to the living room wall and pressed her against it. She put my bow tie in her mouth to free her hand to tear at my shirt. Buttons popped off, and her nails dug into my pecs as I sucked at her neck. She ground her hips against my crotch, and I tore her dress from one breast. I bent my head to bite her nipple, which only made her thrust against me harder. Her breath was gasping and strained.

  “Let me down, Mr. Erikson,” she said around the silk of my bow tie. Her hand went to my neck and she growled. “Let me down.”

  I let her slip down to the ground. When her feet hit the floor, she shoved me away. Leaning against the wall, she looked utterly debauched: ripped dress, messy hair, tit exposed and nipple hard.

  “Strip,” she ordered.

  Her fingers went to work on the foil of the champagne as I yanked my torn shirt from my shoulders. She twisted the wire loose as I kicked off my shoes and socks. The cork of the bottle popped right when my pants hit the marble floor and my hard dick sprang free.

  She smirked and drank straight from the bottle as she took in the sight of my naked body. When she was sure that I was watching, she tipped the neck of the bottle down so champagne poured down her chest and stomach. I licked my lips, knowing I’d get to lick it from her naked body.

  “Come here.”

  The flash in her eye told me the order turned her on.

  “Now.”

  She tossed the bow tie to me and came forward without a word.

  “Down.”

  With a smile, she shoved the champagne bottle against my chest and dropped to her knees.

  “Arms up.”

  She obeyed, and I took my bow tie and wrapped it around both of her wrists. My dick twitched at the sight of her looking up at me while I bound her.

  “Suck,” I said.

  She smiled again and kept looking up at me while licking from the base of my shaft to my head. I squeezed her wrists as I groaned, and it only seemed to spur her on. She sucked the head into her hot, wet mouth, and her tongue flicked relentlessly against the slit.

  “Fuck,” I moaned.

  Then she took my fully hard length into her mouth, and I could see the outline of my dick against her cheek. I pressed my hips forward to see it move, and she groaned.

  “You look so good like that, Mrs. Erikson,” I said. “I’m going to fuck you with my bow tie around your wrists.”

  She took my cock deeper into her throat and the muscles in my thighs tensed.

  “I’m going to tear that dress from you and leave it in shreds on the floor.”

  Her head bobbed faster and faster on my dick, each time eliciting an obscene slurp that made my head want to explode if my dick didn’t first.

  “Maybe I’ll use the pieces to tie you to my bed,” I said. “Your arms, your legs.”

  Her tongue along the base of my dick felt incredible. If she kept going, I’d spill straight down her throat, so I stepped back. She licked her lips with a dark smile as she looked up at me. I helped her up using her wrists and eased her hands down, so they were tied together in front of her. Her lips were red and wet.

  “Bedroom,” I said.

  She turned and walked away from me, but she glanced over her shoulder to make sure I was following. As if I wouldn’t follow.

  In the bedroom, she waited for me. I pressed my fingers against her chest, so she fell back onto the mattress. I grabbed her ankles and flipped her over, so her back was to me as she was laid out over the sheets.

  I grabbed the strands of beads draped across her back and yanked them to me. The strings snapped and the beads scattered across the bed sheets, rolled along the marble floors, and bounced across the balcony.

  “Fuck,” I heard her mutter into the sheets.

  “Mrs. Erikson, such foul language from such sweet lips.”

  I gave her a small smack on her ass and she wiggled it up into the air. She was going to make me blow my load without laying even a finger on me.

  Starting at her ankles, I slipped my hand under the torn material of her dress and massaged her skin. I squeezed up and down her calves before kneading my knuckles into the toned muscles of her thighs. By the time I reached the plump flesh of her ass, my arms were buried under her golden dress. She squirmed, clearly impatient under my slow ministrations. I pinched each cheek and dragged my nails down the full length of her legs, and she groaned and squirmed again, trying to turn over onto her back.

  “Patience, Mrs. Erikson.”

  I locked her ankles between my legs, then gathered a handful of material and tore it slowly from the bottom.

  “Stay very still,” I whispered.

  But even I was growing impatient as a bead of precome oozed from the head of my dick. With one final yank, I ripped the dress entirely in half.

  Lying before me was the most gorgeous body I’d ever seen. I stroked my aching cock as I took in the dip of her back, the perkiness of her full ass, the perfection of her glowing tan skin. I bit my lip when I realized there were no tan lines.

  “Put your ass in the air for me,” I said.

  I rubbed the head of my dick along the smooth skin of her ass.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  I knelt on the bed between her open legs, running a finger along her pussy as she bucked back into my touch. But I pulled away and sucked my finger into my mouth.

  “You taste wonderful. Lay on your back.”

  I moved off the bed to grab the champagne bottle and quickly slip on a condom from the bedside table. When I turned around, she was on her back, bound hands above her head, back arched, legs squeezing together at her pussy, nipples peaked and hard in the air.

  “Mr. Erikson, you’ve undone me,�
�� she whispered, writhing seductively on the tattered remains of her dress. “I desperately need you inside of me.”

  Holding the champagne bottle, I crawled between her legs and lifted each one up over my shoulder. Then I poured champagne down her right thigh, lapping it up with my tongue, biting her sensitive skin, rubbing it over her already soaking wet pussy. I did the same with her left thigh, tasting the sweetness of the champagne against the saltiness of her skin. I rubbed the dripping liquid over her clit and her hips bucked off the bed.

  “I can’t wait any longer,” she gasped. “Please, I can’t.”

  I leaned over her and poured champagne all down her chest, watching it glimmer down the line of her stomach to pool between her hips. My dick pressed against the sticky liquid as I bent lower to pour champagne over her tit and suck her nipple into my mouth.

  I looked up to find her head lifted, eyes glossy and cheeks flushed as she watched me flick my tongue over the peak of her hard nipple. She licked her lips, and I dipped my finger into the wet champagne across her tan skin and traced my finger over her plump, red lips. She sucked my finger into her hot mouth, making me dig my nails into her thigh. In response she winced, and her teeth clamped down on my finger. I scraped my own teeth against her nipple, and she thrashed against the bed.

  “Please, please,” she begged. “I can’t. I can’t. Please, please. I can’t.”

  I smiled and poured champagne into the hollow of her throat, lapping it up as her squirming caused friction against my balls.

  “Tell me what you want,” I said between gentle nips along her sticky neck.

  “I want…” She gasped as I gripped her bound hands above her head with one hand and rolled her neglected nipple with my other. “I want you to fuck me.”

  Her back arched off the bed and her whole body quivered, but she looked me straight in the eye and said something in a voice so low and seductive I barely heard it.

  “Mr. Erikson.”

  With the sight of her below me, bound and sticky with champagne, I circled the head of my dick over her clit. I tossed the bottle behind me, shattering it against the wall. Ms. Erikson rolled her hips up and shimmied her tits. I almost came, so I brought my heaving chest back under control while pushing slowly, very slowly inside her tight, wet pussy.