Doc

by S. A. Chakraborty

  I shake my head. I’m about to respond when she continues.

  “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what I was asking, though. Doc. Spill. All the sex? Any conversations? What’s the situation here? I need details.”

  “Tell me if the post-pregger sex was any good, and I’ll spill,” I say, hoping it’ll delay the spotlight for a few more minutes. “I mean, how long had it been?”

  “So fucking long—pun intended,” she almost growls. “I was surprised. So many moms in my group talk about not getting their libido back for a while, but as soon as I started feeling more physically comfortable and healed down yonder in the—”

  “Don’t say cunt caverns.”

  “—cunt caverns—”

  “Fucking hell.” I probably gave her the idea. I shouldn’t encourage her.

  “—I wanted to ride my man like the Tour de Monkhouse. You know, the usual.” She jumps her eyebrows, mouth open and making her not-unusual-for-her “hah” noises. “Well, it wasn’t as urgent, but I figured that was the hormones holding me back.”

  “You two are insane.”

  “And by insane you mean?”

  “Like teenagers.”

  She giggles. “It was good. I think Fox was so excited to get inside something other than his hand, or if I’m in a good mood, my mouth—”

  “TMI,” I interject, and she waves a hand at me.

  “It is not,” she tells me, unfazed. “Anyway, he came like a desperate virgin—as soon as he got in.”

  “Stop!”

  I turn around and see Fox burning holes in his fiancée’s head.

  “Hey, minute man,” I say.

  “Fuck off, Bennett,” he snaps. “Babe, why you tellin’ her about stuff? I told you, I hadn’t rubbed one out that day, so I was amped. And it was not that fast, you lying liar that lies.”

  Sophie’s expression is cat-ate-the-canary excited. “I was kidding, lovahh,” she draws out the word. “I heard you pull up, so I knew you were there. But it was a little quicker than—”

  “Please stop,” he says as I choke on my laughter. “Cork it.” He points at me.

  That’s when I let my delight in his humiliation fly free.

  “You are no longer welcome here.”

  I laugh harder. Sophie joins me. Fox shuts her up with a hello kiss. She’s completely distracted. Seems to me like her libido is doing just fine.

  “Careful, kids,” I say, though it doesn’t halt anything. “You really want to go back-to-back on pregnancies?”

  They freeze, their heads turning toward me with twin dirty looks. That gives me an idea.

  “That could mean twins. Wasn’t your mom a twin, Sophie?”

  She goes green. “Omigod, my gigi would never survive two at once.” Her voice is legitimately spooked. “It would be decimated.”

  “It’s not like they come out at the same time.” Fox rolls his eyes and moves to stand, pausing to kiss his son on the head first. “Nice, Bennett. Thanks for that.”

  “Anytime, stud.”

  He glares at me, then Sophie, to whom he grumbles, “You’re making this up to me later.”

  “You wish,” she says. He raises an eyebrow at her. “Okay, maybe I will.”

  “Like it doesn’t benefit you,” I say.

  Sophie giggles again.

  “I’m getting a beer.”

  “Bring two so you can drink one for me,” she yells.

  I return triple-fisting, two beers in my left and a ginger beer for her in my right.

  “Aww, okay. I do love these.”

  “I know, mama,” I say as I hand it to her.

  “Now, Doc.”

  Fox grabs the second beer from my proffered hand and swigs. “Thanks. Now I’m all ears for your Wellesley gossip.”

  Amused, but unable to resist, I dump a splash of my beer on his head.

  “Fine,” he says. “Beer is good for your hair, did you know?”

  “Ugh.” I drop back into my chair. “Why are you two so nosy?”

  “What?” Sophie shouts. “Are you kidding me? Quit stalling.”

  “It’s a thing, but not serious,” I say, as though reading from a contract. “I—it’s new. Again. And, uhh, and I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “Why?” Fox sounds like he just wants to needle me.

  “Because there’s nothing to talk about,” I say. “Yeah, he stayed over last night. We’re, ya know, seeing each other or whatever.” I feel my cheeks heat. Doc is the only topic that makes me shy of the spotlight. Otherwise, I don’t mind.

  “Oh shit,” Sophie says, jutting her chin out at Fox. “They are trying to set a new world record.”

  Fox laughs. “Impossible. They can’t top us.”

  “They can when we have an infant,” she retorts.

  They continue to foreplay-bicker enough that I think I can escape without notice, but Fox grabs my wrist without looking. “You’re not getting by that easy,” he says. “I’ll take Flower for a walk. You two can girl-chat.”

  Said German Shepherd pops up from her spot half on the deck, half in the sand and barks.

  “Your bitch is ready,” Sophie remarks.

  As Fox and the dog pad off down the sand, I sit down again. I smile to myself, appreciating his compassion. “What else do you want to know?”

  She strokes her hand over her miraculously sleeping son. “How are you feeling about all this?”

  “Feeling?” I deflect. Feelings? What are feelings? “Fine.”

  “Nora, come on,” she says. “I’m just worried about you. For all the jabbering about not wanting a relationship or to fall in—”

  “Don’t say it.” She will. She always does.

  “—love or anything like that… What did you call it? A disease?”

  My head falls into my hands, and I make a slew of groaning noises. “I know,” I say before lifting my head. I continue but my eyes flit all around, landing briefly on hers every few words. “And it’s not that serious. I’m… hesitant to say more. In all honesty, I don’t know how I’m feeling about it. I can say that I’m cautiously happy to be… whatever we are. You know. It’s good. I think this is good. Us. For now. As we, um, yeah.”

  Hearing the embarrassing nerves, the almost teenage rambling, I have to refrain from slapping myself.

  Sophie reaches out and puts a hand on my arm. “I’m just checking on you, okay? It’s okay to be nervous, but try to relax. Enjoy yourself. And not just like the driveway fucking.”

  I roll my eyes open. “Jesus, you make it sound like I’m going to prom or something.”

  Sophie carefully sits up and holds Henry in place. “I know how much dick you’ve had up in there.”

  “Wow, thanks.” I hold up both hands with middle fingers extended. She laughs.

  “Look,” she says, standing carefully. “All I’m saying is I like you guys together. Don’t fuck it up.”

  “Well, that feels like a good omen.” I throw back the beer in my hand. I hear a chime and realize my phone is going off. I pick it up and see it’s a text from Doc. I automatically smile.

  How’s my Beauty?

  My eyes jump up to Sophie’s. She knows, judging by her raised eyebrow and smirk.

  “Sext away, my friend,” she says, pausing before walking into the house. “I suggest boobs.”

  I’m in a wheelchair, you fucked me so hard. I’m now paralyzed.

  Jesus Christ.

  What’s wrong? ;)

  You woke up Beast.

  Beast? Did you name your fucking penis?

  In fairness, so did I, but I didn’t tell him that. I’m a little unnerved, but mostly amused that we both went with Beast.

  It’s your fault. Also, that’s redundant.

  What?

  “Fucking penis.” It’s redundant.

  It is not. Sort of. Whatever. Anyway, it’s YOUR fault I can’t walk properly today.

  Woman, I won’t be home for almost 48 hrs. Why are you teasing me?

  Telling you I
’m now disabled turns you on? Can’t wait to see what this does.

  What?

  I pull up my shirt and snap a pic of my boobs, as was suggested. The bra I’m wearing is sheer, so you can pretty much see everything. I can’t help but to giggle to myself as I do it, because for fuck’s sake, I’m sending tit pictures.

  I’ll be in my bunk.

  11

  AFTER THE SEXTING AND OTHER INJURIES

  DOC

  IF NORA KEEPS texting me pics of her tits and the like, I’m going to end up directing my “monkeys,” as she referred to them, with my dick. I consider calling her, but honestly, I don’t have the time. I mean, a little phone sex can be the perfect Band-Aid to not being in the same city as your… girlfriend? Can I even say that?

  I have to remember that too much “us” may have been what sabotaged things last time we attempted whatever that was. We both seemed guilty in that respect. Still, I can’t let it go. Not completely. Anyway, I have to focus.

  “Asshole!” I yell at Zeke across the set. “Come here a sec.”

  “I’m kissing ass right now, eh?” he says throwing a chin while trotting over to me. “I think I may have gotten a promotion from being your bitch.”

  I laugh. “Never. You’ll always be my bitch.”

  “Fucker.”

  “My bad, sunshine. You’re right—you’re Ashley’s bitch.” I grin and punch his shoulder.

  Zeke’s been working various production jobs since moving to the States, though recently the well had dried up. Or at least he was missing out on the right opportunities. In any case, I brought him on as a rigger and general floater for the short run of projects I have going. This way he finally got a union card, so the field has opened up. While he’s been with me, he’s been charming his way into more and more important acquaintances. Not to mention, he has a knack for getting along with some of the industry’s most notorious egos—particularly directors and some of the worst blowhard producers.

  “Are you a star yet?” I ask. “Tinneman seems to have taken to you.”

  “Fuck off, mate.” He laughs. “Just because three birds and a bloke have asked if I’m another one of them Hemsworths doesn’t mean you’re not pretty. Though, I’ll be honest… You’re not.”

  Shaking my head, I pause to scratch at my hairline with my middle finger. “You look nothing like either of those guys, so you know.”

  “I know it,” he agrees, amused. “Must be the accent.” He cackles and slaps my arm. “What did you need, anyway?”

  “Taylor and Andy have an ice-fall rig to break down once the principal photography is done. Can you take the hot box over to speed it up? The director—”

  “Keely.”

  I level my eyes at him. “You’re on a first-name basis with the director?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugs and offers a shit-eating grin.

  “Christ, mate, slow down, okay? You’re going to get dick burn.”

  Zeke tosses his head back and laughs heartily. “Don’t be such a hater. She saw Ashley one night when she came by for dinner and wanted a three-way, so… yeah. We’re all kind of friends now.”

  I press my lips together and blow irritated air out my nose. “I cannot believe the amount of high-level ass you’re getting when you already have a bloody girlfriend.”

  Again, he shrugs it off. “Ash is really open. I don’t think she’s long term—we just like to have fun. Plus, she’s young. Probably just sowing her wild oats. You know, like Nora.”

  Everything freezes. From the blood in my veins to my skin and bones and beating heart. “Do you think that’s what this is?” I ask, my tone low and threatening. “To her? To me?”

  I may be a little too fucking sensitive about this.

  He realizes his misstep and rocks back on one foot, putting enough distance between us to rule out a sharp uppercut. “Sorry, mate.” He raises his hands to supplicate himself, his expression wide and shocked.

  I’m tempted to dagger him with my eyes and wait for him to expose his neck like a wolf to his alpha. But that’s just because he pressed the wrong goddamn button.

  “Honestly, mate, I didn’t mean it like that,” Zeke continues, his voice shaking just a bit.

  “What, pray tell, did you mean, fuckshit?”

  “I mean, she’s been pretty much a party girl for as long as I’ve known her,” he says.

  I think he should probably just stop talking.

  “It was a shock to see you two all cozy the other night like newlyweds or something.”

  A foreboding chill sweeps across my skin as a furious rage burns from within. “Have you and she…?” I trail off the question, afraid of saying it out loud and losing my goddamn shit. My jealousy is completely unfounded, and I’m tempted to check my forehead for extreme prominence.

  “What? Doc, don’t be daft. I can’t lie; I propositioned her a bunch of times—only a few of them seriously. But she made some comment about ‘not going there again.’ I don’t know what she meant by it, but—”

  “Me.” My tone is clipped. “She meant me.” I hear a lazy threat in my voice and realize with a deep breath that this paranoia is going to do me no good. I hastily wipe a hand over my face as the fight drains from my muscles.

  “You two were together before?”

  My hackles raise at his surprise but given how much Nora loved being under the radar, I shouldn’t be offended. Not to mention, it was before any of us had met Zeke.

  “Yeah. A few months before you and I met at Monkhouse’s.” My throat itches with annoyance—mostly at how I’ve allowed this bullshit to affect my mood. We’ve only been back together a minute and I’m already acting territorial.

  “It didn’t end well, I take it?”

  “Not particularly, though it depends who you ask, I guess.” I need to cool the fuck off. “Look, get downstairs and help Andy. I have to check in with the second-unit director.”

  I leave Zeke with his mouth flapping like a guppy. The director isn’t actually looking for me, but I have to get my head on straight before getting back to set to finish the day.

  It takes a few hours to wrap everything up and get everyone on my team squared away—even with Zeke’s help. When I get back to the hotel, I notice I have a text from Nora.

  Everything okay? You didn’t yank yourself to death, did you?

  Hilarious. I’m alive, thanks. Just got back 2 hotel.

  R U alone?

  That piques my interest. Grinning, I text again.

  Just the 2 of us here

  If you’re referring to Beast, I’m turning my phone off

  First I laugh out loud, then via text.

  Just pick up the call, gobshite

  I stare at the phone in confusion until I see the video call come in.

  “Hello, Beauty.”

  “Hi,” she says, the phone really close to her face. “Thought we’d give this phone-fucking a go.”

  I laugh. “I won’t be able to see much if you stick the phone up your—”

  “Okay,” she stops me. Her voice skews through the microphone, and I feel it on my skin. “You know what I meant,” she says and pulls the phone back to reveal she’s topless.

  I groan and push the heel of my hand down on my dick. “Fuuuck me.”

  “I would if I were there,” she says with the sexiest simper I’ve ever seen. “Why don’t you show me something… beastly.”

  I stare at the screen, locking digital eyes with my woman. My free hand pops the button on my jeans and tears back the button fly. When my fingers wrap around my dick, my eyes close. In my mind, it’s Nora. Her hands, her pussy, her body wrapping around me.

  “Baby,” she says softly. “Look at me.”

  I open to see her hand ghost over her breast, then her stomach, around to the side of her hip. Her fingers trail up the slit, circling her clit.

  “Fucking hell, baby,” I mumble. “Do you know how bad I want those fingers to be mine? To be me?”

  “I have an idea. Do you have
things in hand?” she asks, teasing me and moving the camera back up to her face. Before I can answer, she demands, “Show me.”

  I curl forward, sitting so I can prop the phone up.

  She moans, her voice breaking in the middle. “God, yes.”

  “I show you; you show me, love,” I say. “That’s how this works.”

  My Beauty giggles and lies back on her bed. My eyes catch on her full breasts pressing together, but she moves the phone and sets it farther away. I’m guessing it rests against the pillows as she lies on her side on the bed. One hand teases her nipple as the other’s middle fingers press between her legs, slowly moving in circles.

  “That’s it, baby,” I tell her. “Not too fast. I want to see everything.”

  “I—yes, Declan,” she coos, and it makes my dick feel diamond hard. She quite obviously knows how crazy it makes me when she calls me by my given name. Not to mention, she seems to be taking direction for once.

  “Goddamn,” I mutter as I stroke myself. Shit, I need some lotion, but I’d have to get up, and I’m not missing a second of this. I groan, irritated that I’m going to have to resort to old-school shit like spitting in my fucking hand, but for this, I’m not above it. So I do.

  “Oh my God,” she says with a lilt of humor and the force of arousal. “I love that. I feel it. I can feel you.”

  I pry my eyes open in time to see her fingers slip inside. My moan breaks free as my hand squeezes my cock, sliding up over the head and down. I keep repeating as I lose my breath.

  “It’s me inside you, Beauty. That’s my cock you feel fucking you.”

  Nora calls out, her mouth round and open. “Yes! My Declan, it’s you. Ohh my God, I need you.”

  I growl loudly, watching the pace of her fingers pumping in and out match that of my fist going up and down. Her other hand leaves her nipples—the peaks firm and tight, much like my balls right now—to cover her well-occupied hand and increase the pressure.

  “Nor, baby, you close? I’m almost there. Let’s do this together, yeah?”

  She moans, nodding then thrashing her head side to side.

  I breathe a laugh. “Is that a yes or a no?”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes,” she chants, inhaling in between each word. “Both hands now, love. I have all of you. Ohhhh, God. I’m so… yes. Yes. I’m gonna… baby, please.”