As I was coming down from my high, I watched as Dillon removed his own pants. He turned me over on my stomach, pulled me up onto my knees, spread my legs wide, and slipped himself inside. I leaned my head back, delirious with pleasure. Dillon fit inside me perfectly, and I got a wave of pleasure every time he moved. With his hands on my hips, he began pumping me faster, harder with every thrust. He reached his left hand up and started to tug my hair back. He hit my G-spot again and again, and I trembled under the pressure. His right hand reached between my legs and started to rub my clit in time with the thrusts of his hips.
As he pumped harder I knew I wouldn’t last long.
“That feels so good,” I mumbled between breaths. That caused him to only move faster. My whole body shuddered as he started to push me over the edge. I let my body give in to the orgasm as he pushed up hard inside me and moved his fingers faster on my clit. He continued pumping his hips, breaking all reason in my mind. I was having the best sex of my life and I didn’t care if all my sisters heard my cries.
His body tensed as he spilled his seed into me and he fell on top of me, exhausted.
“You make me crazy,” he whispered against my temple.
“That makes two of us.”
He pulled back and looked into my eyes. “What does this mean for us?”
“I guess we’re together. I mean, that’s what I want.”
A smug smile played on his lips. “Well you do always seem to get what you want.”
“I’m used to it.”
He pulled out and lay down next to me on the bed, our naked bodies practically glowing in the afternoon sun. “There’s something I want, too.”
I turned on my side to look at him. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“I want to beat Georgie’s best guy. Legit, in the cage. Prove to everyone he’s just a punk in a suit.”
“That’s going to take a lot of training and rehab.”
“Yeah. But I gotta do it. Earn back my title.”
I nodded. I had guessed this was coming. “A month? Give yourself a full month of recuperation, then do it.”
“Done.”
EIGHTEEN
ONE MONTH LATER
DILLON
“Tell me again,” I pleaded with her.
“I’m not going to say good luck again. You don’t need luck. You’re going to beat this guy without a problem! You have been working so hard.”
She was right, I had been. Ever since the doctor cleared me to start hitting the gym again, I’d been there eight hours a day, seven days a week. I had never trained so hard in my entire life, but I wasn’t going to let Georgie’s guy beat me again. And this time it was a fair fight. One-on-one, in the cage. And it was a legit fight, none of that underground bullshit that I thought I wanted. The purse was still good, enough to pay Leo back for the money that he had let me borrow to go into rehab. Plus a little left over for maybe a nice dinner for my mom and him.
I had known something was going on with them for years, but neither of them would ever admit it. But it seemed that my injuries had brought them closer together. Or maybe it was seeing Berkley and me overcome our obstacles. And I’d certainly thrown a few in our way. Rehab had been an experience. One I would never forget, and one I didn’t want to repeat. I thought about Berkley the entire time— she was the whole reason I was there. I could’ve gone on living and fighting with the drugs. But I couldn’t have gone on without her.
She gave me a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the locker room. I watched her hips swing back and forth as she slipped behind the metal door and out into the crowd. I could never get enough of her. Suddenly I was alone with my thoughts. A dangerous place to be for former addict. I still had some lighter pain medication in my bag in case I needed it for my face. And while I sat alone on the wooden bench I considered reaching and grabbing a few. It wouldn’t give me the high I needed, but it would make it just like any other fight. I hadn’t won in over two years without slipping some pills beforehand.
I don’t need them, I told myself. I walked over to the mirror above the sinks and looked at myself. My eye would never be completely back to the way it was. Reconstructive surgery can only fix so much. But it was a reminder of what had been. I felt a little bit like a monster, but that was the old me. Looking at the other side of my face, the clear tanned skin, the dark blue eyes, that was the new me. And that was the me I would be with Berkley going forward. No more pushing away, I was here to fight. For her, and for me.
Leo opened the door just a crack behind me and called in, “You ready, kid?”
I inhaled through my nose and clenched my fists under the wraps. “Damn straight.”
I put in my mouth guard and I followed him out, raising my arms as the crowd cheered around me. I lived for this. I got up into the ring within seconds and looked at the guy in front of me. He was only about three inches taller than I was, with a similar build. This certainly wasn’t the guy that Georgie was using in the underground. Those two had been gigantic, didn’t even look like regular human beings. But this guy? He was beatable.
I looked over my shoulder and saw Leo nodding to me lifting up his right hand to signal that I should open with my right hook. If I was fast enough I could block this guy’s first punch and get him in the side of the face before he even knew what was coming.
I heard the whistle blow, and the crowd around me was drowned out. The only thing I could hear was the beating of my own heart. Just as Leo had anticipated, the guy came at me first and I dodged him, standing back up and landing a right hook directly under his chin. He kicked me in the left side where I had broken those ribs, and I winced under the pain. But it was just pain. I could do this, without the pills. I backed up, giving some space between us and waiting for him to advance. When he finally did, I set off a roundhouse kick that got him right in the head. He was on the ground in a second—I heard the thump of his body hitting the floor. I sat on top of him and gave him a few more good punches in the face as I heard Leo yell, “Get him kid! Show ‘em what you’re made of.”
I landed one more good face shot before the ref pulled me off him. I turned around to look into the crowd and saw Georgie standing with a very unhappy look on his face. His guy was about to get beat, and he knew it.
The whistle blew again, and this time the guy advanced too fast for me to set my hands before he landed a blow to my face. My head was pounding but I kept going. I pushed ahead, putting us into a lock. After the ref separated us, I bounced around the cage a bit trying to figure out my next move. I wanted to look at Leo, but I didn’t want to lose eye contact with my opponent. He would take that opportunity to strike.
But he wasn’t as smart as I was. He looked at Georgie, who made a kicking motion, but I ran at him. A direct punch between his eyes and he was flat on his back, almost out cold. I knew what that meant. I was the victor. The referee held my arm up in the air and the crowd cheered my name. I ran down from the cage and searched the crowd for Berkley, finding her standing right next to Leo, who was clapping with a huge smile on his face. He was always proud of me, and I was lucky for that.
“You won!” She screamed. “Oh my God Dillon, you won!”
I took out my mouth guard and spit out a little extra blood before wrapping my hands around her face and kissing her with all the force I had just had in the cage.
I won the fight.
In the cage, and for her heart.
Doctor’s Orders
A Second Chance Doctor Romance
By Nicole Elliot and Ellie Wild
Prologue
“What did you get for number three?” I asked, peering over his shoulder.
“Mono, the kissing disease.”
“Me too.” I flashed him a smile.
“Weird name for an illness,” he responded, his eyes meeting mine. God, he was gorgeous. Why did he have to look so good? I was supposed to be focusing on the material.
“Ha, yeah I guess.” I moved my hair out of my face.
&
nbsp; He moved closer to me, “I mean the only way to get it is through saliva.”
He licked his lips.
This should be gross, I told myself, we’re discussing diseases. But instead all I could think about were his lips on mine.
“So tomorrow is the final. I think we should go celebrate afterwards.” He winked at me.
“Oh? Where do you want to go?”
“Out, anywhere. As long as it’s with you,” he paused. “And you wear those jeans you had on last week for chem.”
“What?” I asked, shocked. I knew exactly what jeans he was talking about. So maybe I had worn them to get his attention. Maybe.
“Because tomorrow, after we pass this class, I am getting my hands into those jeans Hailey Clarke,” he said just above a whisper. My pussy ached in response.
The anticipation of having Wyatt’s hands on my body was going to kill me.
I was sure of it.
Chapter One: Wyatt
I fucking hated November third.
The harsh thought bounced off the walls of my head and seemed to echo across the empty cemetery. The angry thought remained private though.
My mom and I were visiting his grave.
We stood in front of his headstone, staring down at the slab of rock that was supposed to represent his life. Instead, it only represented his absence.
A small American flag whipped back and forth in the wind, creating a steady rhythm to which we could mark our grief.
November third arrived too soon every year.
It would always be the worst day of the year.
Five years had passed since my father died and it still felt like yesterday. This year, my mom didn’t cry. We visited the grave and said our obligatory prayers. I took a short walk so my mom could speak to him alone. I did this with her every year, but I never understood why. Part of me knew it was just a way to make her feel better, that it helped her feel close to him. A bigger part of me thought it was a giant waste of time. What was the point of talking to a rock?
He wasn’t there.
Still, it was a nice change to visit the cemetery and not have to support my sobbing mom back to the car. She didn’t shed a single tear. She was just quiet through the whole thing.
Something had clicked inside of her a few months ago. I could tell the difference immediately. She still felt his loss in her soul, but it no longer crippled her daily life. She finally found a sense of peace.
I was happy for her, I really was. I just would have been happier if we could stop our yearly visits all together. For me, it never got easier to look at his name on that headstone.
Anderson Wyatt Murphy
It was bold and large. Because he was one of the newer residents in the Bradberry cemetery, his headstone stood out among the rest. While others were beginning to fade, his name could be read from fifty yards away.
Every time I laid eyes on it, I was forced to remember him in ways I didn’t want to. I could still see the coffin they unloaded off that plane. There was an American flag laid across it. My mom still had that flag, folded tightly in a memory box in her bedroom.
He died in combat, thousands of miles away from home. Mom and I didn’t get to say goodbye. He was just gone. It almost killed us both, but while my mom retreated into herself for years after, I did the opposite.
At the time of my father’s death, I was pre-med. I had almost finished my Bachelor’s degree and I was getting ready to take the MCAT. Medical school was right around the corner, but all of that changed when my dad died. My entire life plan was thrown out the window and I knew there was only one thing I could do.
Enlist.
I joined the Army as a medic and spent four years serving my country. It was the best and worst four years of my life.
I flew around the world.
I helped people.
I saved lives.
But I was also reminded every day that no one was around to save my dad. If I had been a medic back then, would I have been able to keep him alive? If I had been there, if I had gotten to him fast enough, would he still be here?
Four years in the Army didn’t do anything to squash those thoughts.
When my time was up, I moved back home and tried to reemerge myself in the Bradberry way of life, but it was no use. I was no longer the same person who left Bradberry four years earlier. I was now the guy who came home twice a year to see my mom through the difficult days: the anniversary of my father’s death and Christmas. Other than that, I managed to stay far away from the small town I used to call home.
By the time November third rolled around again, I had been home for six months. I took my mom to the cemetery to honor my father’s five years in the ground and then we went home.
She barely spoke two words to me on the way home. When we walked through the front door, she went straight to the kitchen and sat down at the table.
I followed her, sure that she wanted me to. I sat beside her and looked at her gently. Despite my lack of patience with our annual visits, I knew my mom was fragile and that it was my job to take care of her. With my dad gone, I was the only person she had left.
“This came in the mail for you,” my mom said with a faint smile. She pushed a thin envelope across the table toward me. “I didn’t know you applied again.”
I looked down at the envelope and saw the UConn School of Medicine symbol on the top left-hand corner. My heart skipped a beat as I looked back at my mom. She was right, I hadn’t told her I applied to medical school for the second time. I wasn’t sure how she would take the news of me leaving again, but when I saw her face, she was smiling at me.
“I was going to tell you,” I said. “I just…”
I trailed off and a small silence reigned until she broke it.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Just open it.”
“Okay.” I nodded and took a deep breath. Sliding my finger under the lip of the envelope, I felt like my entire life was either about to begin or end. I didn’t know which, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to find out.
When I tore open the envelope I automatically reached inside and grabbed the piece of paper. It was just one piece, small and folded in three. I unfolded it and laid it flat on the table, my eyes scanning the words quickly.
It took a few seconds for me to process what I read.
Dear Mr. Murphy,
Thank you for your application, we are happy to inform you…
Once I did, I looked at my mom with a wide smile and nodded silently.
Mom squealed and jumped to her feet. She ran around the table and threw her arms around me.
“Oh honey!” she cried. “I’m so proud of you! You’re going to be a doctor!”
“I guess it’s official now,” I said softly. “I’m going to med school.”
My mom squealed with delight and let go of my neck. She smoothed down my hair and looked at me with her eyes full of tears. She hadn’t cried at the cemetery that day, but seeing my acceptance letter to medical school was enough to send her over the edge. The tears spilled down her cheeks and she closed her eyes for a minute. With her hand to her chest, she breathed slowly and I knew exactly what she was thinking.
“He would be so proud of you,” she said as she opened her eyes again. I didn’t want to talk about my father in that moment, I just wanted to be happy.
“Thanks,” I said shortly, looking away from her. I focused my attention on the letter and smiled.
“When do classes start?” My mom asked. “Does it say?”
“No,” I shook my head. “They’re sending a larger package in the next few days with all the details. It’ll have the course catalogue and the dates of when I can sign up for classes online.”
“Oh, this is just so exciting!” she said. “We’re going to have a real doctor in the family!”
I smiled and watched her excitement build. She raced around the kitchen, grabbing her cellphone. I knew she couldn’t resist calling all the neighbors and filling them in on the good news. In
a town like Bradberry, everybody knew everyone’s business the minute it happened. I was surprised she waited a whole ten minutes before sending up the flare.
I knew she was just proud of me and that she wanted to brag, but it was still slightly embarrassing. After all, when I enlisted in the Army, she didn’t rush out to tell all her friends. She didn’t really do anything but stare at me blankly while I repeated myself twelve times.
When she finally registered my words, she was overcome with so much emotion that she didn’t speak to me for a week. It wasn’t until my last day at home that she hugged me and told me that she understood. She whispered that she loved me and that was it. I walked out the door and we never discussed my decision again.
Now that I was home and safe, her bragging abilities were back in full swing. I sat at the kitchen table and listened while she made phone call after phone call. She never stayed on the phone too long, always ending it with, “Well, I gotta go! I’ve got more people to call, but I wanted you to know! We’re just so happy over here!”
Then would she hang up and immediately dial the next number.
By the fourth call, I hoped she would run out of numbers soon. I knew that was wishful thinking though. She would be on the phone all afternoon.
With a small wave, I walked out onto the front porch, my acceptance letter in hand. I sat down on the porch swing and reread the letter three more times. I wanted to make the words sink in. This had been my dream for as long as I could remember.
My mind drifted to the past and the memories swirled around my head.
When I started college, going pre-med was the only option. I always knew I wanted to be a doctor and my time in the Army only served to solidify that wish. As a medic, I learned more than four years in a classroom could ever teach me.
I knew I was ready for whatever was thrown at me.
As I imagined what medical school would be like, I thought back to my undergrad years. It felt like a different life, those four years at the local college. Almost everyone from Bradberry went there, if they even went to college at all. I never considered going somewhere else. I graduated high school and enrolled in pre-med classes the very next week.
Baby Makes Three: A Brother's Best Friend's Secret Baby Romance Page 56
