When Opposites Collide Boxset

by Kathy Coopmans

  She screams out my name over and over again as her eyes stay sealed to mine and her tongue darts out to lick her lips. I sink my teeth down on my bottom lip, drawing blood when the first shot of my come coats her tits. I grab my cock, pump my hands, and mark her. Hot spurts all over her upper body. It’s a Goddamn masterpiece.

  Amelia shocks me when she sits up taking my cock in her mouth, sucking the rest of me dry. She flops back on the bed sedated and flushed.

  “God, I’ve been dying to drink you in, Zeke.”

  And just like that, I’m fucking hard as a rock again.

  “Shower now.” I scoop her up from the bed. “I need to fuck my girl properly.”

  My temporary secretary ended up working perfectly even though I’d rather have Amelia here with me at the hospital. Selfish on my part, because my girl is soaring now teaching art lessons at the center and adding her eye for art with the finishing detail for the charity ball.

  I could never have accomplished all the things she’s done. Honestly, I don’t think anyone could. After telling her about my sister, it’s as if Amelia and I connected on a whole other level. This foundation. Her heart and soul is completely on the project, and she’s doing everything she can to make it a success. The options are endless to where the two of us could someday take this foundation. I honestly don’t think I have seen anyone dedicate themselves entirely to anything the way Amelia has with this. I’m so proud of her.

  My door opens and slams shut with no warning. I turn around in my chair guessing it’s probably Marissa back to play some more head games. But it’s not. Two towering men waltz in like they own the damn place. It’s their typical stance. Curtis and Katch. Curtis isn’t wearing his cut. Which means this visit isn’t club business. If my gut is right, which most of the time it is, then this visit has everything to do with Amelia’s family.

  “Did you find them?”

  Katch tosses a file folder down on my desk. Curtis only grunts, taking a seat across from me. Every bad sensor I have crawls up my spine. Tightens my muscles and fucks over my mind.

  “We found the fuckers,” Katch growls, taking a seat of his own.

  I don’t ask any further questions before opening the file and falling back in my chair. Finally, faces to the monsters. Never thought this day would come. There, staring back at me, is the smug bastard looking all professional in his doctor’s coat. Fake smile. Squinty eyes. And a sick and twisted mind. I want them gone. Him and his no-good wife. Fucking cunt. An evil laugh threatens to escape as I take him in. This piece of shit rotten fucker who heals hearts as a career shattered one inside a little girl.

  Little does he know his is about to stop beating.

  Time and time again, I wondered what this scum looked like. I mean, I kind of knew but never really paid him much attention. I bit back every urge I had not to look them up. I knew if I did, I would want them dead before the timing was right. But now, after seeing them, it’s time.

  I flip to the photo of her mom. The bitch makes me just as fucking sick. Possibly worse. As expected, she’s an older version of her daughter. On the outside, that is.

  “They’re in Florida. Getting ready to fly over to Russia to adopt a thirteen-year-old girl.”

  It takes me long moments to realize Curtis is talking. even longer to process the fucking words.

  “Come again?” Fuck, no. They can’t adopt a kid. They’ll destroy her the same way they did Amelia. I mean, what in the ever-loving hell is wrong with these people? Jesus.

  “You heard me right, doc. I ain’t fucking around with this shit anymore. Not after learning this. No Goddamn way. All we need is the go-ahead, and we are gone. We have a club down there tailing them. Ball’s in your court, doc. What’s the plan?”

  I finally look up at the two men. I’ll never be able to pay them back for this. I’d had it set in my mind for weeks now that I’d be the one killing this disease in Amelia’s life. It would be my finger pulling the cold metal of the trigger solving the problem. No prescription needed. But now, with it right here on my desk, there’s no way in hell I want to miss one single day with Amelia. It’s not worth it. Nothing is. These guys live to kill. They know what the fuck they're doing.

  “Dead. I want them dead.”

  “Both of them?” Katch asks.

  I slowly nod. Not giving a fuck if everyone in this entire country is questioned over the disappearance of these two sick people. And here Amelia thought she was sick. These two are the definition of it.

  Katch goes to protest, but Curtis stops him. “Consider it done, but there’s one more thing we need to discuss. The stepbrother is here in LA. Brick went apeshit crazy, ready to blow his head off. Told him it wasn’t his call nor his business. It’s yours.”

  “Amelia.” I hop up onto my feet, ready to sprint across town to get her.

  “Sit your ass down. We have two brothers tailing him. They have orders to take action if he even fucking looks at Amelia.”

  I nod still not really fucking thrilled about the idea of any of them living in the same town as Amelia. No wonder she hid on the streets and lived in alleyways. She knew they wouldn’t come find her.

  “He needs to die as well.”

  Curtis stands up, cracking his neck from side to side. “Like I said, consider it done. You’ll get the call when they’re dead.”

  “Take this with you. Burn it. Burn them. Shoot them in the skull for all I care.” I stuff the photos back into the file. Hand it back and smile when they walk right back out the door. Slamming it shut. Savages. Fuck, I love them.

  Not even five minutes later, I hear hushed voices right outside my office.

  “Is Dr. Hartley in?”

  I’d recognize that sweet voice on my deathbed. It’s my Bluebird. I’m up and moving to the door until I hear another voice that sends chills up my spine.

  “He might be in the on-call room with a nurse,” Marissa lies. Stupid fucking bitch. And where the hell is my secretary?

  I’m about ready to burst right through this fucking door when I hear Amelia stand her ground

  “I don't’ think so, honey.”

  “Are you sure, sweetie? We used to spend a lot, and I mean a lot of time in there.”

  Marissa is in full bitch mode, but Amelia is a strong woman. I have no doubt she can handle herself.

  “Keywords used to, bitch. He told me about you and your nasty snatch. Jealousy suits you, though, I’ll give you that. Now, if you’ll kindly leave my boyfriend's office. I’ll make sure to tell him you were sitting out here waiting for him. You were waiting for him, right? Pitiful.”

  “It will never last with you two. Zeke needs women in his life, and lots of them.”

  “Trust me. I know exactly what Zeke needs. I’d also be a bit concerned if my boyfriend didn’t have an active sex life before me. But where you’re wrong is, all he will ever need is me.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” Marissa spits.

  “I don’t need to tell myself or you anything. Don’t you have a job to be doing? I sure as hell don’t think the hospital pays you to stand around and busy yourself with other people’s business. Get on with your desperate self.”

  Marissa huffs, then the sound of her clogs hitting the tile floor echoes around.

  “Marissa, before you go, just remember Zeke calling my name out every night. It might help you sleep better.”

  I feel like a teenager witnessing a catfight. I wait until I hear Marissa leave, then I race back to my desk and act like I’m sifting through papers.

  A light knock at the door comes, then Amelia peers her head in the door. “Doctor?”

  “Bluebird. What are you doing here?” I relax back in my chair without a worry to be found.

  “I was feeling a little sick.” Her hands splay across her stomach.

  “Amelia.” I’m on my feet going to her.

  Then she bursts out in laughter, slapping at my chest when I wrap my arms around her. “It was supposed to be sexy. I was in the mood
for some role play.”

  “You little shit. Never do that again.” I pick the little temptress up, latch my mouth to hers, and walk us backward until I position her straddling me in my chair.

  “Seriously, this is a surprise. What’s going on?” She’s never come to visit me before. I can say I love the fact she’s here. But on the other hand, I understand all too well why hospitals are not her favorite place.

  “Just finished shopping with Renee and Zoe for the ball.”

  “I clearly remember requesting pictures of you in the dress and some naughty ones of you in the dressing room.”

  “You have to wait.” She taps the tip of my nose.

  “So, tell me about your symptoms.” I palm her ass.

  “There’s this ache. It’s kind of tingly.”

  “Show me where?” My eyes grow heavy with desire.

  Amelia slowly runs her hand down her stomach until her fingers disappear in the waistband of her skinny white jeans. I sit her on my desk and rush over to the door, peering out to see if Jana is back. I holler out to not let anyone in, lock the door, and gaze over my shoulder to Amelia to make sure it’s okay.

  “You better hurry, doc,” she moans out.

  My dick jumps to life at the vision of her on my desk, her legs spread wide and her mouth gaping open.

  I take my seat, rolling my chair up to the desk.

  “Does anything make this pain worse or go away?” I ask, taking my stethoscope from around my neck and placing it in my ears.

  “There’s this guy. A really hot doctor. When I see or smell him, the pain becomes really bad,” Amelia says all this while moving her fingers inside her pants.

  I take the end of the stethoscope and place it on her right breast. This causes her to erupt out in laughter, throwing her head back. My lips are hungry to taste her neck.

  “You suck at role playing, doctor. Boobs don’t have a heartbeat.”

  “Well, they’re making my cock throb.” I toss the stethoscope to the side. “Okay, let me try again.”

  I spread her legs further apart, dragging my finger from one kneecap up the inside of her leg until I’m cupping her sex through her jeans. “The pain is it right here?”

  Amelia moans and nods her head.

  “Going to need to conduct an exam. It will be quick and pain-free, I promise.”

  She lifts her hips up, letting me pull down her skinny jeans. She kicks off her sandals, and her pants tumble to the ground.

  “Think you forgot something.” She eyes her nude, lacy panties.

  “That would be very unprofessional of me, ma'am,” I say, sliding her panties down.

  I take my time drinking in the sight of her spread wide on my desk. Her pussy a Goddamn beautiful sight.

  “Put your feet up here, please? I place her feet where I want them. Her ass on the edge and her hands gripping the back of my desk.

  “Dripping wet. Does this usually accompany the pain?” I ask, sliding a finger down her slit.

  “Yes,” she pants.

  “Let me have a look.” I slide one finger inside her.

  Amelia slaps her palm over her mouth to muffle her cry. Then I have two fingers inside of her, working them slowly, curving them upward a hitch. My head comes down, so my mouth can lightly suck on her clit. My mouth and her hips find the perfect rhythm. Amelia fucks my face until she’s falling apart into a fulfilled mess on my desk.

  “I feel better,” she says. Voice serious and darkened eyes.

  “Good. However, I’m going to need to do a follow-up in about five hours.” I lean back and grab a prescription pad, scribbling on it. I tear it off and hand it to her. Amelia’s feet are in my lap, rubbing up and down my hard cock.

  “Must spread legs and have doctor thoroughly check the site of pain. Lots of tongue and cock needed for a healthy recovery.” Amelia clutches the piece of paper to her chest. “I knew you were the best doctor around.”

  “The only doctor who can cure your ache,” I correct here.

  “I have a problem, though, Dr. Hartley. I forgot my purse in my car.” She slides off the desk until she’s on her knees undoing my pants.

  “Really?” I raise an eyebrow. “I take several forms of payment.”

  This gets me a slap to my thigh, and a finger pointed at me. “Only with me, or I’ll never do this again.”

  She clutches the base of my cock.

  “It’s always only been you. Now, pay up.” I thrust my hips up at her.

  “You’ve learned this role playing rather quickly, doctor.”

  Her lips wrap around the head of my dick, and I know everything is going to be just fine.

  52

  Amelia

  I buckle the strap to my heel and take one last look at myself in the mirror. I hardly recognize the woman staring back at me at all.

  There’s no dirt under my freshly painted nails, no bags under my eyes, and no marks on my arms.

  My hair is shiny, pulled up loosely on top of my head and pinned to perfection. My lips are stained nude, with a shiny gloss. My eyes are drawn in a thin black liner; lashes coated heavily to make my clear, bright blue eyes pop.

  And the dress I have on is my own. I worked hard to pay for this dress. I knew it was the one the minute I walked into the store.

  A beaded sweetheart V-neck in sky blue. Dipping low in the front and even lower in the back. It’s elegant, clings to my skin, and shows off every healthy curve I’ve earned.

  My four-inch pointed shoes are my favorite. They match the dress with their silver and same color blue crystals. Those crystal colors hang from my now pierced ears and a few matching bangles on my wrist.

  With one final smile from the woman staring back at me, I twist my watch upon my wrist. I grab my silver clutch, leave our bedroom, and walk down the hall.

  I come to an abrupt stop when I take a look at the man waiting for me. His back is to me, his phone to his ear, and I know him so well now that I can tell he’s tense.

  “Both of them. What about his son?” he whispers. My stomach drops. It’s the way he speaks that has my already nervous and sour stomach churning. I haven’t felt very well in days. Chalked it up to nerves and butterflies about this ball.

  I want it to be perfect for him and Brick. Although, Brick won’t be there. He donated money, simply said it’s not his style. They loved Clara so much. The way she died has played over in my head several times. No woman should have to be brutally raped and murdered, left alongside the road as if she were nothing. She was everything to them, and this entire charity and night are dedicated to her.

  “Do not let him out of your sight, Saxon,” He barks out, and I nearly jump out of my skin at his tone.

  My first inclination as to who he was talking about has me walking backward until my back hits the wall. I place my hand to my throat, my pulse beating out of control. He has to be talking about my family. We haven’t spoken about them at all since that night at the museum. I told him to do what he wanted. I didn’t want to know. I meant it. I still do.

  However, with all the love I have for Zeke, I hope he can live with what I know he’s going to have done. He’s going to have them killed. I know he is. It was written all over his face when we argued; it was still there when we talked, and it’s been there this entire time. I’ve simply chosen to ignore it. Until now.

  And Brick. God, is that what he does for the club? Is he a killer? If so, I don’t want to know. I vow right there that I will never bring the club up again. I adore and love these two men for who they are to me, not what they do.

  My head starts spinning, and my upset stomach lurches. I feel as if I could vomit.

  I stay in my spot while I wait for the tears of guilt and remorse to come. And when they are replaced with something else, something I haven’t felt in my entire life until Zeke, I straighten my spine, pull back my shoulders, and continue forward to make my presence known. I feel worthy, loved, and, most of all, safe.

  I can honestly say I feel no grief
in knowing in my heart that my mother is dead or will be. How can you grieve for a person you don’t love? I have hated her since the first time she chose money over me. I will hate her for the rest of my healthy, drug-free life. As far as my stepfather and brother go, I hope they are being tortured the same way they did me on nightly bases in their corners of hell.

  “I love the tie,” I say from my spot in the hall. Zeke is now facing me with his head down, staring at his phone in his hand.

  Everything shifts and changes when his head lifts and his eyes graze mine. He holds them there before scanning me from head to toe and back up again. The old Amelia would have looked down out of embarrassment to have anyone look at her at all. But the new Amelia, the one with confidence, with self-worth, and the love of a man who washed away the last ounces of her pain, stares back with eyes of steel. Eyes that tell him I heard and we have nothing to talk about.

  “Fuck me.” He shoves his phone in the pocket of his black tux jacket. Pushes himself off from the counter and makes his way to me.

  “I did this morning before I left to make sure everything was lined up for the event tonight. I suppose if you're lucky, I can when we get home,” I say cheerfully.

  “Is that so?” He grabs my hand, lifts it to his mouth, and kisses the inside of my palm. “You are beautiful, Amelia, without all of this. But, my God, you are radiant right now. The dress is gorgeous. Not gonna be able to wait until tonight, darling.”

  “Thank you.” I wrap my arms around his waist. Place my mouth to his ear and say, “For everything.”

  “No, you’re the one to thank, Bluebird.” His hands slide my dress up, then his hands are in my panties. “Need this scent on me tonight.”

  And he sure as hell doesn’t wait until after the ball. I'm up on the counter with my legs spread and Zeke driving in and out of me. The perfect finishing touches to my outfit.