Love Doctor

by Mari Freeman

  he teased, wiggling his finger into her bellybutton. She squealed, laughing and struggling even harder.

  One of her front pockets felt like it held coins. Craig slid his hand over the other and hit pay dirt. He’d found the remote and could barely make out the buttons through the denim, but pushed a button through the fabric anyway. She stopped struggling, her breathing erratic from the wrestling. He couldn’t resist the desire to kiss her again.

  “Better? Or did the dork turn it off again?”

  Becky closed her eyes as she felt the vibrator switch to a pulsing mode. The medium pulse was her favorite. Nope. Craig was no dork. She relaxed, laid back and let the sensation move through her. He crawled up her body and his mouth covered hers. His kiss felt needful, wanting, intense. She pushed her fingers through his hair and down to his shoulders. Becky pulled him closer, wanting to feel his body against hers, smell his skin. The urgent kiss drained away the humor of the previous moment. Becky could feel the heat though his clothes. She tugged at his shirt, wanting to get to skin. Craig groaned in protest but pulled away from the deep kiss. He lingered to look into her eye, giving her another chance to stop the progression of the evening. Ain’t gonna happen. She’d pushed all in. She reached up and started to unbutton the shirt for him. He watched as she did, not moving, not speaking. 24

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  When the buttons were open, she let her fingers explore his chest and up around his shoulders. His muscles were tight and his skin was warm and smooth. The vibrator was humming away, creating an urgency that was stressing her ability to take her time and experience his body. She pushed the shirt open and he moved to slip it off. He was beautifully proportioned, with strong shoulders and a muscular chest that tapered to a taut stomach. A sprinkle of chest hair showed the slightest hint of gray. Craig held still, letting her take her time to touch and feel his skin. His eyes closed in a long blink and he tightened his jaw as she explored her treasure. Unable to resist, she reached for his buckle. He stopped that, ducking his head and nuzzling his face in her neck and hair. She heard him inhale deeply, taking in her scent. He moved lower, glancing kisses on her neck while his hands searched for the bottom of her blouse. The tickling brush of his breath on her neck sent an urgent message to the far reaches of her body. Her toes curled in her shoes. She gripped his shoulders, arched her body to his.

  He found the end of her blouse and caressed her stomach, lightly dragging his fingers across her belly. He shoved her shirt up. “I need to feel your skin.” The words were spoken with honest need.

  Becky sat up and removed her own shirt to speed up the process and then she unhooked her bra. She watched his face as she dropped the garment and her breasts came into view. Man, his eyes were intense, determined to take it all in. Craig scooted her up the bed, back against the pillows, and pressed his chest to hers. The heat from his touch, the simple touch of his chest to hers, was electric. Becky heard herself moan and reached between them to try again for his belt, to get his pants off. And hers. She wanted. Not just their chests touching, but she wanted their entire bodies touching and sharing heat. She wanted to feel him inside her. He got the message and reluctantly rolled off the bed. Becky did the same. They were standing on opposite sides, panting and looking at each other from the short distance. She watched his chest muscles flex and tighten with his quick breaths. 25

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  A sly grin lifted the corner of her mouth. “Race ya,” she said, and held her hands out at her sides as if she were wearing a gun holster and had just challenged him to a duel.

  Becky looked down to her jeans. They were both shirtless; Becky, also braless. But she had the advantage. No belt.

  “Loser goes down on the winner,” she added.

  A sparkle lit up his deep green eyes. “I like my odds.” He nodded and put his hands to his sides as well.

  The duel was on. “I’ll let you have the countdown. On one,” Becky said as she took a step back from the bed to get a little more room. Craig followed suit. They stood faceto-face across the king-sized bed, both breathing hard, half-naked and ready for the shootout. Becky expected to see a tumbleweed roll down the comforter. Bad spaghetti western music played in her mind. Waa…waa…waaaaa.

  “Three.” Craig shook out his shoulders and wiggled his fingers. “Two.”

  Becky eased her hands a little closer to the top of her jeans. Knowing she had the least amount of fasteners to open. She had this. You’re mine, buddy.

  “One!” Craig reached for his slacks.

  Becky looked down and made quick work of her button and zipper. She heard the metal of his buckle rattling. She didn’t dare look up. She wanted to win. Her “going out” jeans were tight but she wiggled her hips and managed to shimmy them down pretty fast. The first foot came out of both denim and thong clean. No problem. The second was another story.

  Her thong caught on her ankle. She grumbled and stepped on the offending fabric with her other foot as she held the bed for balance, fighting to pull her tangled left foot out. When it finally pulled free, she straightened. “Hah!” Naked, she looked across the bed, confident in her victory.

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  Craig stood calmly on the far side of the bed with a very hungry look in his eye. His hands were holding the belt open, but beyond that, he’d made no further effort to drop his pants. “You win,” he said.

  “To the victor go the spoils,” she teased.

  He pulled his belt. The leather slipped through the loops, making a slight snapping sound. He dropped it to the floor. “Yes. They. Do. Crawl over here and let me spoil you.”

  The decision to chase him down in the street had been a good one. Becky got up on the bed. With exaggerated movements, she crawled on her hands and knees to the middle of the king-sized playground. He unbuttoned his slacks and unzipped them. Becky stopped all motion and watched as he let them fall. Her eyes feasted on his naked form for a moment.

  The room was warm, the lights were low and his skin seemed to glow. Her body was on fire from all the tension they’d built. It was the most exciting night she’d had in years, maybe ever. The vibrator had been working on her for a while and she knew she was soaking wet.

  Becky turned and lay back on the bed, spreading herself open to take her winnings.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered as he crawled up between her legs, kneeling over her. He leaned down and brushed his lips across her inner thigh. Becky could hear him inhale, taking in her scent once again. She could see his hard cock hanging between his legs. She reached for it and he turned so he could still reach her with his mouth, his lower body now close enough that she could grasp his cock. Her fingers stroked his head as his tongue touch her clit.

  Becky gasped and spread her knees wider, tilting herself toward him, begging for more. The heat from his mouth, the vibration inside her and the feel of his cock in her hand was too much. She was going to come and it was happening now. Her body tightened. She pushed his head farther into her pussy, his tongue darted faster and faster over her clit and she felt the explosion building. 27

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  “I’m coming!” Her strained words were loud and Craig responded by tugging the vibrator’s short string, pulling it out. The loss of both the vibration and the fullness of the toy inside her made the sensation of his tongue flicking over her clit even more intense. He gripped her thighs to keep her still and he groaned his excitement over making her come. Her body rocked and shook as wave after wave of intensity rolled over her.

  Craig didn’t let up. While she was writhing and enjoying the aftereffects of the orgasm, he straightened and reached for his pants. He stroked himself with one hand as he searched his wallet with the other. The thud the slim wallet made when it hit the floor echoed in the hotel room. He pushed his hips forward and looked down on her as he continued to stoke himself, teasing her, tempting her. His biceps flexed as he pumped but his eyes remained intent on hers.

  Becky licked her lips as h
e rolled the condom over his cock. He stroked a few more times and then crawled over her, licking and kissing her belly. Each brush of lips or touch of tongue was exaggerated by the heightened state her body was experiencing. Becky was anticipating him reaching her breasts. They ached for his touch, his mouth. And finally he ran his tongue with agonizing slowness around one sensitive nipple. Becky arched her body closer to his. His legs were intertwined with hers. His cock pressed against her inner thigh. She could felt the slickness of the condom, the roughness of the hair on his thighs, the heat of his breath as he moved to bite lightly on her other nipple. He teased and taunted her, rolling his hips, moving his cock up and down her thigh, inching ever closer to her heated core. The sultry smell of aftershave lingered on his skin. His eyes darted from her face to her neck as if he didn’t know where he wanted to go next. He decided on her mouth, and kissed her. She could taste her own juices on his lips. She reached around and ran her hands up the curves of the muscles in his back. He felt so good. They fit together perfectly.

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  He pushed his cock inside enough for her to feel the ridge of his head and then stopped. Becky tried to thrust against him, to take more of him inside her, but he held her tightly in place. She started to grind in slow circles. The motion caused more fabulous friction and pulled on her clit. Evidently, it did something for him as well because he let out a muffled groan and pushed all the way in. Becky grabbed his ass and returned the thrust.

  “You feel so good.” His words were choppy and distorted from the clenching of his jaw. She could see the veins of his neck pulsing, the muscles of his jaw tightening. His breath was warm on her cheek. She loved the intimacy of his face being right there with hers. There was no way to hide anything. All his expressions, his feelings, were right there to be shared.

  Sliding his hands under her arms, he wrapped them around her shoulders. He pulled her closer to his body, changing the tilt of her hips so they were even more deeply connected. He was reading her body movements and adjusting to match her need. Each change in angle felt better than the last. Her body was about ready to shatter again as he upped the speed of his thrusts.

  He was pushing deeper and harder. She could tell he was close to his own climax. She clutched his lower back, wrapped her legs around his and used them to pull him closer with each thrust. He gave a deep, guttural groan and arched his back, the muscles flexing and straining under her grasp. His chest muscles were taut and the veins in his neck looked ready to burst. The sights and sounds of his arousal were so intimate that it all combined to usher in another orgasm. Becky reveled in it as it hit, relaxing and letting him push in and out, letting him take. She could see his face as he came. She could feel his body respond to her pulsing muscles as she did.

  There was no crushing feel of weight as he lingered. His tattered breathing and the smell of his skin were like an after-dinner drink, a satisfying end to a great meal. She didn’t want him to move.

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  But he did move.

  “I don’t want to stop,” he whispered as he slid in and out of her. The slick sensation felt like a wet kiss. He wasn’t exactly hard, but yet, he wasn’t exactly soft. “I wish I could do this all night.”

  Becky caressed his back with soft fingertip strokes. Craig moved with slow intent and with each gentle thrust, Becky felt him harden a bit. He kissed her forehead before looking into her eyes. “So good. You feel so good.”

  * * * * *

  The sound that jarred her awake was unfamiliar, the room also unfamiliar, but the warm skin next to hers was familiar right away. She stretched and lazily looked around the hotel room. Her clothes, his clothes and her briefcase were strewn around the bed and by the door.

  The briefcase reminded her of why she was in the hotel room. And why she was in New York. She glanced at the clock. 8:15.

  ArtMania. Fuck!

  Becky shoved the snoring man on the shoulder. “You have to go. I have to go. Crap!” She crawled out of the bed and scampered to the bathroom. This was what she’d feared. Months and months of work on this project were now minutes from being down the drain. How could she have let herself do this? No alarm? What was I thinking?

  She knew better. She glanced back to see Craig was moving as quickly as she was, but with much less desperation. He was seeking one of his shoes while trying to buckle his pants.

  “Sorry, Becky. Looks like we both have something going on this morning.” She was turning the shower on as he was pulling his shirt over his shoulders. He followed her into the bathroom. “I don’t want to rush away from you like this, but I have lots to do today. A client meeting and a brief to write.” He looked at her through the mirror and shook his head. “I don’t want to rush away from you at all.”

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  He moved up behind her, kissing her shoulder and cupping her ass cheeks before letting his hands slide around her body and over her hips. The boyish expression in his eyes pleaded with her to play hooky from her meeting. His hands explored her stomach before coming to a stop on her breasts. He gently squeezed her large nipples. He wasn’t playing fair. She’d like nothing better than to crawl back into that big old bed and spend several more hours exploring every contour of his body. But today was Becky’s big day. She’d worked for months to have everything ready for the art festival. Today was the day, the last presentation, meeting the benefactor and making sure Liza knew she had made the right decision when she’d given Becky the partnership. She hesitated a moment to enjoy his hands on her skin before pulling away and stepping into the shower. Warm water cascaded over Becky’s body. She wished it were cold to help temper her desire.

  Craig pulled the shower curtain open slightly. “How long is your meeting?” His smile had changed from boyish to scheming.

  “A few hours.”

  He held out the vibrator. “Put this in. Wear it during your meeting and I’ll meet you back here, downstairs, in the restaurant for lunch. Twelve thirty okay with you?”

  He pushed the hand with the vibe farther into the shower, making it more of an insistence than a request. “You made it through the night at the bar with it in. Can you make it through a business meeting?” The sexy challenge was made as water drenched his shirtsleeve.

  Becky looked down at the silver bullet vibrator humming in his hand. Could she do it? Dare she do it? She looked from his hand to his face. The strong lines and green eyes were hard to resist. Why did this man turn her on so much? She watched his lips twitch, knowing she would accept his challenge. She wanted to play again…but while at work?

  “I don’t think so, Craig. Kind of an important meeting for me today.”

  “I understand.” He rolled it around under the spray of water. “I guess that’d be hard to do. I couldn’t do my job with someone rubbing my balls. I just wanted to think 31

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  of you wet and excited, all morning long, just like you were last night.” His words were as effective as his hands at arousing. “God, you were sexy. I’ve never felt so wanted, never had a woman want to touch me like that.” He waited a moment to see if she’d change her mind. When he was sure she wouldn’t, he said, “No problem. I still want to see you. I can make lunch. Twelve thirty?”

  Becky huffed as he spoke of the inferno they’d managed to build. It’d been amazing. He was amazing. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She held out her hand, palm up. “Fine. It won’t be vibrating through the meeting without you there to push buttons anyway. That’s just as well. I’d blather on like an idiot. When we meet for lunch, you can turn it on.” At that, Craig smiled and placed the toy in her hand. She shut the curtain on him. “Oh. Another thing,” she said over the water. “The top button adjusts the speed, there are three settings and off. The bottom button is the pattern of vibration. Two to choose from. The first is a pulse and the third is a rotation of sorts. Can you remember that?”

  He pulled the curtain bac
k just enough to peek inside. “Is this the test for my operator’s license?”

  “Yes, and it’s your last chance, bucko. You’d better get it right or you’ll forever remain the big dork.”

  He leaned in farther, giving no worry to his head getting wet. The flat of his hand ran over her water-slicked stomach and he kissed her on the cheek. His fingertips then trailed over her wet curls and lightly brushed her pussy, making Becky reach for the wall of the shower to steady herself. “Until lunch then.” He winked and backed away. Becky hesitated, looking at the white plastic shower curtain. After a moment, she heard him close the door to the room. She was clean and ready to get out of the shower before slipping the vibrator in. Even switched off, it was an immediate distraction. This was a big meeting and she was going to conduct it wearing a bullet vibrator. Hello, psychiatric hospital, it’s Becky Cooper. Is my committal scheduled for this Tuesday or next?

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  Chapter Three

  Becky rushed to the second bank of elevators in the huge lobby, the wheels of her rolling briefcase clicking behind her, reminding her of the fact that she was late. Her hair was still damp, given she’d not taken the time to dry it. The mass of curls looked wild. She looked flustered and she knew it. It was not how she wanted to start the day. She cursed in the empty elevator.

  The doors slid open and she stepped into a waiting area. Across the marble floor, behind a huge desk, a pretty, young receptionist eagerly greeted Becky.

  “Ms. Cooper. Good morning.” The woman seemed overly happy to see her. Before Becky could speak, a bark echoed across the marble floors of the reception area. She followed the blonde’s flustered look as she rolled her eyes over to the seating area on the right.

  “If I have to wait much longer, miss, Farrah will not be very happy.”

  Salvation. He—they—were the perfect distraction for her lateness and her appearance.

  “Samuel.” Becky smiled and walked quickly toward the artist and star of the weekend. His artwork was to be the centerpiece of the ArtMania festival. She never understood progressive art and had no intention of starting now, but this guy was popular and they knew he would bring in a large number of attendees spending an even larger number of dollars. That meant lots of income for the charity and a happy client. “It’s so good to see you.” She left the briefcase by the desk and gave the artist the exaggerated half-hug, fake kiss on the cheek that seemed to be the new handshake here in the city. “Is there a problem?”