by Amy Valenti
I had no doubt about that. “And you’d be my trainer?”
“So to speak. If you want me, that is. If there’s nothing there, you can always request another trainer.” He seemed a little insecure, almost. “Is that what you want?”
I shook my head, suddenly speechless, and he grinned. “Me neither.”
For a second we just stared at each other, the air seeming to warm a degree or two as the tension between us grew. Then Scott leaned in towards me, a little tentatively, as if he was still unsure of his welcome. I swayed forward as if magnetised and his fingers brushed the underside of my jaw a split second before our lips met.
He was better than I’d imagined—slow at first, gauging my reaction, then growing more confident as I responded. When he teased my tongue with his for a brief moment before withdrawing, something snapped inside me.
It had been almost eight months since I’d last been with anyone. Too long, far too long. Maybe before I’d undergone the three-strikes treatment I’d have reined in my desires a little. Not now. I pressed against him, slipping my arms around his neck, and he leant backwards until he was stretched out on the couch, pulling me on top of him.
His body heat warmed me, and beneath his shirt I felt toned muscle that shifted as he slipped his arms around my waist. I kissed him harder, running my fingers through his hair, and he moaned against my lips, bucking his hips up against my body. He most definitely was not suppressed, and, as I felt his hard cock press into my thigh, I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted to be a doctor.
I’d never felt anything this intense before; not even close. Maybe it was the celibacy playing tricks on my mind, but I didn’t care if Beth—or anyone else—walked in on us. The head of the damn hospital could have barged through the door, and I wouldn’t have even looked up. I just wanted more.
“Holly…” His voice was breathless against my ear, and I ground against him in response, moving so that his tantalising hardness brushed my clit and instinctively tilting my hips.
“I want—”
“I know.” His voice was low, desperate in a way that made my entire body thrill. “We can’t. Not here.”
I whimpered, and his answering laughter just made everything ten times more unbearable. “Soon. I promise. But we both have shifts starting in ten minutes. If we don’t show up, they’re gonna get suspicious.”
I’d entirely forgotten about my shift with Dr Croft. “Fuck!” He was right, I knew he was, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
Scott kissed the sensitive spot just below my ear. “Come on, we gotta sit up.”
Feeling more self-conscious by the second, I did as he asked, sliding off the couch to sit on the floor. Scott pushed himself upright and sat out of arm’s reach, readjusting his clothing, then running a frustrated hand through his hair. “God…”
“I’m sorry.” Wait, why was I apologising? It wasn’t as if I was the unwilling one. Not that he was unwilling…quite the opposite, in fact.
Okay, stop thinking about that. You need to calm down!
“Yeah, ‘cause it was all your fault.” His voice was mildly sarcastic and I couldn’t help but laugh. My attraction to him wasn’t just physical—he wasn’t my usual type but the fact that he had a sense of humour was a big turn-on.
This really wasn’t helping. “I think I should start walking. It’ll probably calm me down more than staying here will.”
“Good idea. Make sure you check your hair in the mirror first. Sorry about that, by the way.” His grin was anything but apologetic.
I got to my feet—a little shaky, but not a total basket case—and went over to the mirror by the door. It might have seemed like a strange thing to have hanging in an administrative room like this, but, if things like what had just happened to us were commonplace in here, it made sense.
My hair was a total mess, and I pulled my brush from my bag with a sigh of mock irritation. “You know, if I was a little more precious about my appearance, you’d be due a good slap for this.”
“Come over here and say that,” he said, his voice a lazy drawl. I looked over my shoulder to find him watching me appreciatively, and turned back to the mirror with a shiver of lust.
“When and where?” I pulled a few last strands of hair back into place, then busied myself reapplying my lipstick. When I was done, I almost looked calm and professional. Almost.
“Can you sneak into town tomorrow night? The theme at Club Icarus is ‘masquerade ball’—wear a mask and hide the tattoos, and you won’t have to worry about being recognised.”
I nodded, my heart skipping nervously. I’d thought about disguising myself and going out to party every night since my failed procedure, and every night I’d ruled it too stupid and dangerous. But for Scott…
“I’ll be there.”
We exchanged phone numbers while we still safely could and I left without asking for the goodbye kiss I was dying for. Walking quickly through the hospital corridors, I turned my mind to the heart surgery I was going to assist with today.
Chapter Five
I had a lot to think about on the train home. The mysterious ‘committee’ and Beth. The confirmed existence of other unsuppressed professionals, all faking it the way I was.
Scott.
Of course, most of my mind was occupied by thoughts of him. Our up-close-and-personal encounter was seared into my memory—every caress, every kiss, every word he had said and everything he hadn’t needed to.
Was I falling so hard for him because he was the first prospect available? Were we just perfectly suited? Or was something else going on?
I hardly cared. Once I got home, I checked that my roommates were both out at their evening law classes, then ran a deep, hot, luxurious bubble bath. Soaking in the strawberry scented water, I at last allowed my memories of that morning to take over.
His fingers against my wrist had felt amazing, stroking across the sensitive pulse point and sending tingles through my skin. I tried to imagine what they’d feel like against my breasts, cupping them in my hands, letting my fingertips ghost over my nipples.
I’d been so afraid to trust him, but when he’d kissed me that had disappeared in an instant. I’d been with guys before, but, as far as I could remember, none of them had made me want to sprint from first base all the way to a home run within the space of one kiss.
God, when I’d felt him get hard, though—
I sighed into the steamy air, slipping one hand down beneath the bubbles, over my stomach, past my abdomen… I wanted to undress him and kneel in front of him, to watch his eyes darken with desire as I sucked his cock. I wanted to make him moan, wanted to feel his fingers in my hair, his touch guiding me…
I remembered the sensation of his tongue against mine, wondered what it would feel like against my clit. I’d been with guys who were reluctant to go down on women, who would insist on blowjobs without returning the favour. Somehow I knew Scott wouldn’t be like that. I pressed urgent fingers against my clit and moaned quietly, afraid to make too much noise even in the empty house.
He seemed so at ease with his sensuality, like he wasn’t even trying to hide behind the same veneer of professionalism that I strove for. Was he really so confident? And how far did that confidence extend to the bedroom? Would he pin me, control me, pleasure me mercilessly until I came with a scream? Would he let me set the pace, seduce him with my hands and lips and words, watch me ride him with those intense blue eyes?
I teetered on the brink of orgasm, my fingers quick and sure against my clit, my free hand teasing one nipple, then the other. What would he wear tomorrow night? Would he take me somewhere private or just drag me into a quiet corner, where we’d be visible but anonymous behind our masks?
The thought of him fucking me where anyone could glance over and see us was the final push I needed. My gasps gave way to cries of fulfilment, louder than I would usually allow myself, with an orgasm powerful enough to complement them.
Sated, I slid down in the water
and submerged everything but my face, feeling the warm glow deep in my pussy radiate outward through the rest of my body. Briefly, I wondered whether the real thing could possibly live up to my creative imagination, but then I remembered Scott’s mischievous wink in the middle of class yesterday, where anyone could have seen, and grinned to myself.
Of course it could.
* * * *
I’d obsessed about what to wear for the past day and a half. First I had to pick an outfit, then find a mask that would match. Making sure my bedroom door was securely locked, I shimmied in and out of clothing I hadn’t had occasion to wear for eight months, trying on a variety of evening wear and discounting all of it.
I needed something new. Something sexy but elegant. Something that would be right at home at a masquerade ball.
After some deliberation, I decided to play to my strengths. A dark green dress would go with my pale, redhead’s colouring, and after a lengthy shopping spree I managed to find one that was both classy and seductive. There was a store just off the main street that specialised in fancy dress and masquerade masks, and I went there next, taking care to hide my tattoos from the menial girl who helped me to pick a beautiful green and gold mask that would match the dress.
I needed to talk to Scott about his timing, though. It was ridiculously short notice to be scrambling to find an outfit as elaborate as this. I could already imagine his playful sarcasm, and the thought made me smile as I walked back towards the train station.
The hard part would be to get out of my house without my roommates realising I was en route to a date. I planned to run downstairs, yell something about an evening study group and get out of there before either of them could come into the hallway and see my dress.
It would be dicey, but I was hoping they’d be too stressed out by the current semester’s workload to question me.
When it was time to put on the dress, I stared at it for a few minutes, battling my fear. “Come on. What’s the worst that can happen?” I asked my reflection.
Being struck off the medical register before you’re even on it? Forced and painful tattoo removal? Being shunned by everyone you know? Imprisonment? Death?
The worst case scenarios danced through my mind, whirling as if they were masquerade guests in their own masks and gowns. I dropped down onto my bed, burying my head in my hands.
I couldn’t do this. It was too risky.
Biting back tears of desperate disappointment, I called Scott—the first time I had dared to use his number since he’d given it to me. If it showed up on my phone records, at least I could claim to have been calling him about university work.
“Hey.” His voice was pleasantly surprised and my stomach fluttered with butterflies that definitely weren’t related to my nerves. “Didn’t think I’d hear from you for an hour or two. Everything okay?”
“Scott, I…” My voice faltered and, to his credit, he didn’t try to jump in with questions. Swallowing hard, I told him, “I don’t dare step outside my room wearing this outfit. It’s not something one of the Focused would wear, not by a long shot. What if someone recognises me?”
I could hear the smile in his voice. “Not something one of the Focused would wear, huh? I can’t wait to see this.”
“Will you be serious?” I scowled at the dress, more annoyed with myself than with him. “I just told you, I can’t be there tonight!”
“Sure you can. Give me two minutes, and I’ll call you back.” Without bothering to say goodbye, he hung up, and I stared at the phone, confused. What the hell was he thinking?
When the phone rang I jumped, even though I was expecting it. “Hello?”
“It’s all taken care of. Pack your outfit in a bag and come into town wearing whatever you’d usually wear. There’ll be a friend of mine waiting at the station. She’s a menial and she understands. Her name’s Skye. She’s tall and blonde and she’ll be standing by the news stand right next to the main exit.”
“Okay…” It was more uncertainty than agreement, but he took it as approval of his plan.
“She’ll ask you if you’re looking for a taxi. Tell her you need one to the university and she’ll know it’s you.”
I nodded, gathering my courage at his matter-of-fact tone. “I’ll be there.”
“Good.” His voice was relieved. “Relax, Holly. You’re gonna be fine. Just keep the tattoos covered.”
I hoped he was right.
* * * *
Scott’s friend, Skye, was a knockout. I was instantly envious, not just of her looks but of the way she could flirt with anyone she wanted and not have to worry about being detained and investigated for it.
After confirming my identity, she beckoned for me to follow her down the street, past the taxi rank and into a coffee shop that was open late.
“Hi, Dad,” she said to the guy behind the counter, who was immersed in a newspaper. The man didn’t even look up, merely grunted in response.
Skye tugged me towards the back of the shop, through a door marked ‘Staff Only’. I seemed to be getting into a lot of restricted areas lately.
“Well, this is where I live… Probably not as grand as you’re used to, but it’s a good place to stop off and change clothes before Cinderella gets to go to the ball.”
I looked around at the room, which was only a little smaller—and a hell of a lot tidier—than the living room in my house. “Actually, this is nicer than where I live. Student housing, y’know?”
Skye gave me a surprised glance. “Really? Yeah, I know the sort.” After a second’s contemplation, she crossed to a closed door, opened it, turned on the light and stepped back. “Go get yourself dolled up. I’ll let Scott know you’re here safe.”
Murmuring thanks, I stepped into the bedroom—a little more chaotic than the room I’d left but still fairly tidy. Skye was big on science theory, it seemed. That surprised me. Why wouldn’t she choose to work with something that she so obviously had a passion for?
It was none of my business, plus I had a ball to dress up for. Dropping my bag at the end of the bed, I glanced over at the closed curtains that obscured me from the street outside, then began to wriggle out of my clothing.
A little while later, I eyed myself critically in the mirror. The dress was a teeny bit crumpled from being stuffed in the bag, but mostly in places no one would notice. Apart from that, everything looked good. I thought. I hoped.
After transferring my street clothes to the now-empty bag, I took a deep breath and stepped out into the living room. Skye glanced up from her magazine, then did a swift double-take.
“Ohhhh… Now I see what all the fuss is about.”
I blinked at her, confused, and she rose from the couch with an appreciative smile. “Hell, if Scott didn’t have designs on you I’d probably hit on you myself.”
I couldn’t help but grin back, imagining his reaction. “Are you gonna tell him that?”
“I might.” Skye twirled her finger in the air, and I took the cue to do a full three-sixty for her. “One day. If you guys felt like having a little fun for three.”
I might not have blushed easily, but at that moment my cheeks and the tips of my ears were aflame. It was a scenario I hadn’t thought about, but now definitely planned to later.
“You don’t mince your words, do you?”
“Nah. Life’s too short to play games. That’s why I’ll never be getting those tattoos the pair of you have. ‘Menial’ doesn’t mean ‘stupid’.”
I put on my mask, feeling a little self-conscious, and together we left the apartment, left the coffee shop and headed down the street. Skye explained that the area got pretty rough after dark sometimes, and I’d be a target in the outfit I was wearing—hence she was escorting me closer to the club. When I asked her how she’d get home safely, she just laughed.
It was only a short walk and, as the cool night air caressed my face, I began to indulge my sense of rising anticipation. Though Skye and I chatted as we walked, getting to know each othe
r better, my mind was on Scott. What he would be wearing. If he could dance. Whether we’d stay at the ball long.
My phone rang as we turned a corner, and I dug it out of my bag, relieved when I saw Scott’s name flashing up on the caller ID. “Hi.”
“Hey. Where are you? I’m getting lonely.”
I smiled like an infatuated schoolgirl, and didn’t care one bit. “Just turned off Fourth.”
“I’ll walk up to meet you. See you in a minute.”
I told Skye the plan and she decided I’d be okay walking the rest of the way alone. “Wouldn’t wanna interrupt. I’ll catch you later. Have a magical, fairytale night!”
With a quick hug, she left me there. I resumed my walk at a faster pace, spurred on by the sight of a figure I was pretty sure was Scott, crossing the street in the distance.
I was right. He was wearing a mask, as I was, but his slow smile was unmistakeable. He didn’t stop to say hello, just walked right up to me and pulled me into a welcome kiss. I wound my arms around his neck and kissed back, harder than I’d intended to.
He pulled away with a soft laugh. “Okay, maybe that was a bad idea after what happened yesterday.”
I had the irrational urge to stamp my foot like a toddler and demand more kisses, damn it—but I resisted. Barely. “I think after tonight I’ll be able to control myself better.”
Taking my arm with a mock bow, he led me back in the direction he’d come from. “Part of me hopes you won’t.”
I knew the feeling.
We paid the entry charge and stepped into the vast nightclub. I took a moment to get my bearings, laughing at what I saw. Despite the formal attire, no one was dancing ballroom-style, or even neo-ballroom, to classical music. Instead, everyone was just rocking out to the latest beats and, as we plunged into the crowd, the bass pounded through my blood.
It had been too long since I’d danced. I spun to face Scott, and he slid one arm around my waist, his free hand skimming down my cheek and an odd look on his face. I couldn’t interpret it through the half-mask of midnight blue and silver, and doubted I’d be able to even without it. “What?”
