Sweet Satisfaction

by Violet Paige

  “This?”

  I nodded. “Try it on .”

  She grabbed the ensemble and walked into the bedroom. A few minutes later, she returned, wearing my jersey and a pair of boxers with the Wranglers logo on them. My heart almost beat out of my chest. The skimpy black dress had nothing on this. She was fucking hot as hell in my clothes .

  She sat next to me. “This looks ridiculous .”

  I stared at her, trying to keep my cool. Trying to remind myself who the fuck I was. “It’s hot, Lennon. You’re the sexiest woman I think I’ve ever laid eyes on.” The lines kept rolling off my tongue like I was some damn love-struck teenager .

  “There’s nothing ridiculous about how you look right now .”

  “Really?”

  She tucked her feet under her and curled up next to me. “Really.” I nodded .

  “All right. Teach me .”

  “What?” I had forgotten everything. Her breasts peeked through the deep cut in the jersey, and I could see the pink little buds I had sucked so hard last night. My cock was aching .

  “The game.” She pointed at the TV screen. “You said you were going to teach me. I know absolutely nothing, so start from the beginning .”

  “Right. Football.” I swallowed, tearing my eyes away from her tits. “All right. The game is divided into two halves, and those are split into two quarters each .”

  She was a surgeon. She was brilliant. Explaining football to her seemed insane, but she listened intently as I went through the rules of the game, the numbers of players, how the defensive and offensive teams were set up. By the end, she was starting to get into it. There was a new kind of light in her eye. The one of a fan .

  “How about a beer? You can’t watch football without beer.” I made my way to the kitchen .

  “What? No, you can’t drink on your pain medication.” Her tone was instantly sharp .

  I grabbed two bottles from the fridge. “Do you ever turn off being a doctor?” I twisted the cap off one and took a swig .

  Her eyes narrowed. “Do you ever turn off being a football player ?”

  I chuckled, handing her the other bottle. “You don’t have to worry. I haven’t had one of those pain pills in days. I don’t like the stuff. I don’t like how they make me feel .”

  She looked doubtful. “But how is your hand feeling? Let me take a look at it .”

  Before I could protest, she had the sling off my shoulder and was examining my fingers. She leaned closely to my wrist and I could feel the warmth of her breath rolling over my skin. It was instinct as my left hand twirled a strand of her hair between my fingers .

  She looked up. “I think we need to get you back in for an earlier appointment .”

  “Why do you say that ?”

  “You haven’t been taking care of this like you should, Wes. Your hand is still swollen. I’m going to get ice.” She pushed off the couch and headed for the freezer, where she began to put together a makeshift icepack .

  “I wouldn’t usually recommend ice this late after surgery, but you need it.” She touched the ice—wrapped in a towel—to my hand as I winced. “It still hurts, doesn’t it ?”

  “That means it’s healing, right?” I searched her eyes for false hope. I needed these bones healed yesterday .

  “Not necessarily.” She reattached the sling across my shoulder and cupped the ice on my wrist. “Twenty minutes of ice and then we’ll give you a break. No arguing.” She eyed me .

  “Yes, ma’am.” I grinned, reaching for the beer .

  “I feel bad about this, Wes .”

  “Why would you say that ?”

  She wouldn’t look at me. “Because of last night. We probably reinjured your hand. I-I wasn’t thinking about what we were doing .”

  I almost spit out my beer. “You think you hurt my hand? Believe me, I wasn’t feeling any pain.” I grinned .

  “I’m being serious. It was wrong on a lot of levels. I should have been more careful about your injury .”

  “Hey, you didn’t hurt my hand.” I wanted to kiss the sad look off her face. “Your kind of house call was what every patient needs .”

  “Well, it’s not happening again.” She folded her arms across her chest. “This shows me how reckless it was. Having sex with a post-surgery patient was irresponsible of me .”

  “Not happening again? You sure about that?” She had thrown a challenge flag, whether she knew it or not. And Wes Blakefield never backed down from a challenge .

  “I’m completely sure.” Her lips thinned into a straight line .

  I looked at the screen and then at Lennon. “It’s halftime, and I’m feeling like I need the kind of medicine only you can give me .”

  She scooted away from me on the couch. “Well, you’re not getting it .”

  “Oh, I think I am.” I snagged the top of the boxers she was wearing and slid them over her hips. They were loose on her thin body and easy to discard .

  “What are you doing ?”

  “Medicine,” I growled against her stomach .

  She squirmed under me. “This can’t…” I kissed her navel and sucked along her hipbone .

  I moved back on my heels and looked down at her. “Pull that jersey up just over your tits .”

  Her fingers tucked underneath the fabric and she dragged the hem over her breasts, rubbing her erect nipples as it grazed over them. I pulled the boxers off her ankles. Her chest heaved, and her eyes glazed over with lust .

  “Now I want you to make yourself come .”

  She shook her head. “I can’t do that in front of you,” she whispered .

  I grabbed her hand, edging it over her stomach until her fingers sank between her slit. She bucked as I slid them against her clit and then brought them to my lips. I sucked the sweetness from her fingers and watched her sigh as I returned her fingers to her folds. I let go of her wrist .

  “I promise you’ll enjoy it.” My dick was so hard I wanted to slam into her and fuck her until we both couldn’t talk, but watching her fingers slide between her legs as she fought the temptations coursing through her was such a turn on .

  Her pace quickened, and I could see her thighs begin to tremble and her lips quiver .

  “Wes, I’m going to …”

  She didn’t need to say another word. I buried my head between her legs and sucked hard as the juices flowed from her. My tongue twisted inside her as I flicked over her clit .

  She screamed my name, bowing off the couch, but I didn’t stop. I licked and lapped, greedy for every drip of her. Every bit of sweet essence. I felt her hands in my hair and her hips rocking upward. Her walls clenching around me as a second orgasm hit her with powerful thrusts from my tongue .

  “I can’t.” Her hand moved back and forth. “It’s too much .”

  “It’s not enough,” I growled, clamping down on her clit .

  Her hands coasted over her body, rubbing her breasts, wrapping around her waist, pulling her knees wider. She was lost to me. I kissed her sweet, swollen entrance as the last waves of the orgasm rolled through her, and sat up to see her gaze .

  I pushed the athletic pants down my thighs, positioning my cock against her slick heat .

  “Now.” She nodded. “If you don’t fuck me now, I’m going to explode .”

  I pushed slowly, reveling in every inch of her tight heat. Taking in how she gripped me, pulsed around me. And then I lost control. I wanted to own this woman. I wanted to make her mine in every way possible. She was irresistible. Her smart mouth. Her beautiful eyes. Her sexy legs. And the sweetest slice of heaven I’d ever tasted. I slammed into her again .

  “You’re mine, Doc,” I growled. The need to possess her was powerful. My cock was so buried in her, all I could think about was how to make her scream my name over and over. How to make her come. How to claim her. How to worship her body with pleasure and heat. How I never wanted her to leave .

  “Oh God, yes. Yes!” She clawed at my back as I reared back and slid into her . />
  “Come with me,” I commanded. But I looked in her eyes, and something in my heart locked in place. I kissed her tenderly as I pulsed deep inside her. My tongue twined along hers as I memorized her lips and the taste of her mouth. Her breath hitched every time I plunged further, spreading her legs wider each time .

  Her body vibrated and writhed under me as I pinned her against the couch, feeling our climaxes hit the ceiling, then crash around us. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. We were both falling to pieces. Our bodies betraying us .

  I tried to catch my breath as the aftershocks hit my cock in violent shakes. I didn’t want to pull out. I wanted to lie on this couch the rest of the day, with football in the background and my cock buried deep inside her .

  Ten

  Lennon

  I couldn’t stop panting. My body was firing at a rapid rate. Every sensation felt like a new spark. Like I was touching a live wire .

  It had happened again. Exactly what I said couldn’t happen. But one look in Wes’s eyes, and he had me under some kind of damn sex spell. He opened his lips and I obeyed. And it was worth every sweaty, dirty second of what he did to me .

  It was as if being with him threw every brain cell out of my head. I became someone I didn’t even know. I was sexual and strong. Powerful in bed. The things he did to me were addictive—I didn’t know if I could get enough of him. But it had to end. It had to be enough .

  My career was at stake. My reputation. And my heart. Wes Blakefield wasn’t a one-woman man. I knew that. It didn’t take ten seconds online to figure it out. I wasn’t going down that road again with another man. One crash with infidelity was enough. Wes was trouble. There was a reason he was so good at what he did in bed. He’d had more experience than I could dream of .

  I’d let myself have a little weekend fun, and I had to convince myself I could walk away satisfied with the night we’d spent together .

  I tried to adjust myself under the weight of his body, but I could feel his heart pound against my breast .

  “Don’t say anything,” he whispered, kissing my neck .

  Could he read it in my eyes? All my doubts. All my protests. All the rules we had to discuss that we’d broken repeatedly .

  My lips parted as he moved to my throat. The after sex was almost as good as the foreplay. My body felt calm and alive at the same time. I felt safe and close to him, as if I’d somehow given him the deepest parts of me when I came in his arms. The way he could switch from animal hunger to a slow seduction was hotter than hot. Wes had me and he knew it .

  “When’s your next shift?” His teeth nipped at my earlobe .

  “I have to be at the hospital at seven,” I managed to say, while my body moved under his direction. “But I need to go home and shower and get clothes. And sleep. I need to sleep. I have a surgery in the morning .”

  Wes wasn’t the kind of man who took no for an answer. He was cocky and arrogant, and from the first time I met him, I thought he was a complete chauvinistic asshole. But while his cock was rocking against my core, none of that seemed to matter. I wanted to say yes to him. I wanted to believe he wasn’t only hot, but that he was good. That he actually cared. That taking me to bed meant something to him. Had I lost my mind ?

  “I want you to stay .”

  I tried to wiggle free. “I can’t. We both know that can’t happen .”

  He pushed inside me, and I felt how hard he had gotten again. Holy shit. My hips bucked instantly .

  “It can. What is it you’re worried about ?”

  I couldn’t think. I couldn’t remember why I kept telling him no. He struck a sensitive spot and I moaned. “You don’t play fair .”

  He grinned wickedly. “Me not play fair? With this body, you have me eating out of your hand, or anywhere else you want .”

  I closed my eyes, my head rolling back. It felt so good, but I knew it was wrong. I had signed a contract and declared an oath that I would not have a personal relationship with any patient. His hips ground into mine and I gasped .

  “I can’t be your doctor, Wes. I can’t .”

  “Then give me Dr. Bad Breath.” His mouth landed on my nipple and he sucked until it was hard and perked in his teeth .

  I nodded. That could work. I could pass his case off first thing in the morning. Hand him over to Dr. Evans and forego the doctor-patient relationship conflict. But I felt the queasiness in my stomach. That wasn’t the only problem. It was him. It was the womanizing playboy who had me flipped upside down .

  In less than twenty-four hours, he had convinced me to do things I didn’t know I wanted to do. Craved to do. He had seduced me not five steps into his kitchen. He had taken me how he wanted and when he wanted, and I loved it. I loved how he possessed me. I loved how he claimed my body. But it wasn’t real. Wes Blakefield was dangerous. The instant I walked out the door, another woman could walk in, and she’d hear all the same lines and get all the same great, amazing sex. This wasn’t my reality. This was his .

  I pushed against his shoulders until he released me. “Something wrong ?”

  I nodded. “I can’t do this, Wes. None of it.” I pulled the jersey down over my breasts, covering them from his view. The boxers were too far out of reach, and he was still deep inside me .

  “I don’t get it.” He leaned in for a kiss, but I turned my head. “We’re still having fun, aren’t we ?”

  I felt stupid. I was on an emotional roller coaster I shouldn’t be riding. He never promised me anything other than one night. And how was I supposed to know that an epic night of sex would penetrate feelings I didn’t think were possible to touch? He had unlocked Pandora’s box and had no idea .

  “Everything’s not about fun .”

  “Isn’t it?” The devilish grin was back as his shaft slid inside me again .

  My back arched from the intensity. “You can’t do that,” I moaned. “I can’t think .”

  “To be honest, this is the first conversation I think I’ve had while I was fucking a woman, but it’s kind of hot.” His thumb pressed on my lip, and I took it in my mouth. “Don’t fight how this feels,” he told me. I bit down on his thumb. “Ow .”

  I smiled. “How did that feel ?”

  “I only have one good hand right now, so don’t bite off my fingers.” He scowled .

  “You won’t listen to me. I had to get your attention.” I glared at him .

  “You don’t think you have my attention? I’m completely focused on you and only you. I’m focused on kissing you. Touching you. Fucking you. Making you come over and over .”

  My breath hitched and my heart pounded. My body was pulling me in two. The brain that told me to run like hell and get out of Wes’s apartment, and the fire raging in my veins that told me to give myself to this man as long as he wanted me. Nothing had ever felt so good as him .

  His lips brushed over my mouth. “Tell me you want me, Doc. Tell me you don’t want me to stop .”

  It was like lightning starting a fire. There was no way to put it out until I was completely spent in his arms. “I want you, Wes .”

  He slammed into me maybe three or four times, I couldn’t count. We were both so high from each other the peak was only vibrations away. I clung to him, spiraling out of control as he sliced through me .

  “Fuck,” he growled in my ear .

  I looked in his glowing eyes, wishing to hell this was all real, but knowing I was only his Sunday football distraction .

  Eleven

  Wes

  I couldn’t figure her out. But fuck, I’d never tried to figure a woman out before. I was in new territory. Overnight guests never stayed past lunch. It was dinner, the next day .

  Lennon sat on the kitchen stool, twirling Chinese noodles on a pair of chopsticks .

  “So, I have some questions for you, Mr. Quarterback .”

  She was still wearing my jersey and I fucking loved it. Her ass was firm and round. I couldn’t get enough of it. I tried to focus on her words and not all the thi
ngs I wanted to do to that ass of hers .

  “I’m sure you do.” I popped half an eggroll in my mouth .

  “Longest relationship?” She poured herself a second glass of wine and waited for my answer .

  “Relationship?” I was standing on the other side of the counter, wearing only my jeans. She had convinced me to put my sling back on with another round of ice for my hand .

  “Yeah, as in a girlfriend .”

  “Oh, right. No, can’t say that I’ve had one of those .”

  She sputtered on the wine. “No girlfriend, ever ?”

  I shook my head. “No, why ?”

  “Don’t you think that’s a little strange? You’re not sixteen. You’re not in college anymore. You’ve never had a girlfriend? Never lived with someone ?”

  “Never.”

  “Oh God.” She finished off the wine. “Shit.” She slid off the stool .

  “What? I’m being honest .”

  She spun to face me. “I appreciate that part. But I don’t know what I was thinking. I-I overanalyzed this entire weekend, and now I know I should have done the analyzing and the questioning before I got here, not after, and now I know what an idiot I am for just now asking relationship questions after we’ve slept together five times .”

  “Actually six,” I corrected her. The floor had happened after the end of the last game .

  “Right, six.” She glared at me. “We slept together six times, and I never bothered to ask if you ever had a girlfriend before or knew the meaning of commitment or dating, or monogamy or ….”

  “Hold on, hold on.” I walked around from behind the bar. “What’s happening in that pretty head of yours ?”

  “God, I’m an idiot .”

  “I don’t think you’re an idiot, Doc. You’re a brilliant, hot-as-fuck surgeon .”

  She pursed her lips, and for a second, I thought she might try to slap me. “Thanks .”

  “Come on, we had fun .”

  “And that’s it?” she taunted. “I go back to work tomorrow. You go to your game tomorrow night ?”