Yes, Doctor

by Katy Connor

  With a twist of my wrist, I stroke them against her G-spot.

  “Holy hell.” Her eyes close again as she squeezes my fingers with her pussy. “You’re good at this.”

  “Years of med school,” I murmur. “Made me an expert on the human body.”

  She lets out a low, breathy laugh that turns into a moan as I stroke her G-spot harder. “Thank God for higher education.”

  Shy and demanding and quick-witted. Could she turn me on any more? I consider lowering my head to her pussy and licking her clit, but hold back. Just.

  She’s so close to coming, and I want to watch her face when she does.

  “Tal…” Fuck, I love the way she moans my name. It sounded like pure sexual rapture when I heard it on my balcony, and it sounds even better in here with her.

  She could make me come just by moaning Tal over and over.

  Increasing the speed of my fingers, I gaze into her face, reveling in the pleasure etched in it. She bites her bottom lip, gasps, rolls her head side-to-side, claws at the back of the couch, and then, just as I am about to surrender to my own lust, slams her hips upward. “Oh yes, oh yes, yes!”

  She comes all over my fingers, slicking my palm with her release. The air hangs heavy with it, and I can’t stop myself.

  With one final look at her face, I pull her thighs wider apart and capture her pussy with my mouth, wriggling my fingers against her G-spot in harmony with my tongue’s strokes of her clit.

  “Holy fuck!” Her hips slam upward, and she grinds her pussy harder to my mouth. She fists a hand in my hair. Ribbons of pleasurable pain unfurl through my scalp, and I groan against her, flicking my tongue faster against her clit.

  She writhes and whimpers my name and then, hips bucking, she comes again.

  I lap at her release as it flows from her. Her inner muscles pulse around my fingers, tight constrictions that send fresh blood to my cock. It can’t get any harder, and yet it does. I’ve never been so engorged and ready to fuck as I am now. Bia Adams has torn me apart and remade me her sexual slave, and we haven’t even fucked yet.

  Surrendering to the waves of lust and need and hunger crashing through me, I continue to worship her clit and pussy with my fingers and tongue. Three orgasms aren’t enough. I want to give her more.

  “Oh yeah…” she moans, her fists fierce in my hair. “That’s good…I can’t…too much…so good…”

  I twist my wrist—a little—and, still scissoring my fingers inside her, still feasting on her clit, I press my thumb to the puckered hole of her anus. Not hard, just enough to stimulate the sensitive nerves of her opening.

  She orgasms a fourth time, my name a throaty, stunned, and thoroughly pleasured cry.

  She throbs around my fingers, her breathing nothing more than ragged pants—she slumps back deeper into the couch’s cushions.

  Slowly, oh so slowly, I withdraw my fingers from her wet, hot flesh and lift my head from between her thighs. Never have I seen such sated euphoria. Her cheeks are flushed, her pussy glistens with her cum and my saliva, her breasts are rounder, her nipples erect, her lips parted.

  I draw a deep breath, thrumming and straining. I want those lips on me. On my dick, my lips––I don’t care, just on me somewhere.

  “Christ, Bia, what have you done to me?”

  Rocked me to the very core. Sex has never been like this. I’ve never felt this kind of…of…connection before. I don’t know how to process it. I don’t know how to constrain it.

  Fuck, I don’t know what to do with it.

  It’s terrifying. I have to walk away. I need time to think, to control myself.

  I straighten to my feet, cross her living room, and shoot her a look over my shoulder as I open her door.

  “Where are you going?”

  The confusion in her voice, the rejection in her eyes shears through me. Sucking in a shaky breath, I grip the doorknob tighter. “The next time you feel the need to use your vibrator, beautiful, knock on my door. Do you understand?”

  She studies me from the couch, eyes wide, breasts rising and falling.

  “Do you understand?” I repeat. If I don’t leave right now, I’ll stride back to her and take every drop of raw, lustful pleasure I crave from her body. I’ll fuck her, own her, use her. I’ll be every inch the alpha bastard I fear, deep down inside, I am. I refuse to allow that part of me out.

  It’ll scare her.

  And that matters?

  It does. She’s too sweet.

  Isn’t that the thinking of a man considering a relationship?

  I grit my teeth.

  Fuck.

  She straightens a little on the couch, chin tilting. “And if I knock on your door in ten minutes?”

  My lips stretch into a slow smile. “Then you better be prepared to be fucked within an inch of your life.”

  Whatever she’s thinking, I can’t see it in her eyes. There’s a part of me that hopes I’ve scared her.

  There’s a darker part of me that wants her banging on my door before ten minutes is up. That wants her begging me to fuck her any way I want, that wants to see her on her knees before me, tits heaving, lips parted, my cum dribbling from the corner of her mouth.

  I rake my gaze over her one last time, turn, and walk away.

  One of the hardest fucking things I’ve ever done in my life.

  Chapter Four

  BIA

  Heart racing, I stop myself from knocking on his closed door. I waited ten whole minutes before leaving my condo and walking down the hall. The longest, most intense, surreal ten minutes of my life.

  What had just happened?

  Best sex of your life. And he only used his fingers and mouth. My body still thrums with pleasure.

  I’d sat naked on my sofa for ten minutes, horny as hell, and then I leaped up, and—still buck naked—ran from my condo.

  Hurried to his.

  And almost knocked on it. Almost.

  So here I am, knuckles barely an inch from announcing my presence, staring at his door.

  What the hell am I doing?

  I stumble back a step, heart racing, and look down at myself.

  Why didn’t I at least grab my robe? Cover myself up a little? Mom has always been fond of saying—repeatedly—the sexiest look for a woman is mystery. There’s nothing mysterious about what Tal would see if he opens the door right now. Bia Adams, naked as the day she was born, under the harsh fluorescent corridor lighting, all her curves on display.

  Crap, what was I thinking?

  I rush back into my condo.

  It’s one thing for the hottest guy I’ve ever seen to do what Tal did in the shadows of a barely lit balcony and living room. It’s another to stand on full display under unforgiving lighting.

  Oh hell no.

  Shaking, I hurry into my kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. I’ve already embarrassed myself once tonight, and yes, that did turn out to have a crazy awesome outcome, but I need to think about what I’m doing.

  If nothing else, I need to take some time to process what’s happened.

  Amazing multiple orgasms and the promise of more. Throw your robe on and go knock on his door.

  A shiver ripples up my spine. My nipples bead. Catching my bottom lip in a painful bite, I look over my shoulder toward my condo door.

  Two raps of my knuckles on his door. That’s all it would take.

  I let out a shaky breath and hurry into my bathroom. Tal is off-limits for the rest of the night. He has to be, for my own sanity. I hadn’t expected the intensity of what happened between us, and the craving need I’m feeling for him is unsettling.

  No, I need to process it all. And that means staying away. That doesn’t mean, however…

  I close my fingers around my vibrator, drying in the sink from its earlier hasty clean, and then stomp into my bedroom. Tal may be off-limits, but getting off to the thought of Tal isn’t.

  Twenty minutes later, I accept that the reality of Tal has destroyed the
fantasy of him I’ve experienced with my vibrator. I might be able to orgasm with it—and I did—but it’s not the same.

  He’s ruined me for anything else, anyone else, but him.

  Damn it.

  I try to sleep. It doesn’t help that I know the man responsible for the most incredible pleasure of my life is but a few yards away.

  More than once I sit up in bed, the sheets tousled and wrinkled, the duvet long since kicked to the floor, and stare into the darkness toward my condo’s entry.

  Is he asleep?

  Is he thinking of me?

  Has he jerked off to the thought of me?

  Seriously, what am I doing to myself?

  At dawn, I give up on the notion of sleep, get up, shower, and head to work.

  The animals at the shelter have always helped me find my calm, my center, and oh boy, do I need to be calm and centered now.

  A fresh pot of Earl Grey tea steeping, I do my rounds. The place was run entirely by volunteers when I first arrived in Hardrock. I used to volunteer at a shelter for abandoned dogs back in San Francisco, and leaving it tore me apart.

  During a pit stop halfway into my journey to Hardrock, I googled animal shelters in the city, planning to offer my help there. Discovering there was only one—community-established, volunteer-run—I made a few calls from the road.

  By the time I arrived in Hardrock, the animal shelter had a new anonymous benefactor, and I had a full-time position.

  On my first day in the city—before moving into the condo I’d only seen online—I drove to the complex on the outskirts of town and walked through it.

  Even now, six months into the job, I still can’t believe how amazing it feels to do something worthy, significant. To have a purpose.

  Until I arrived in Hardrock, a purpose was something I lacked. Unless you count being my mother’s daughter, and as purposes go, it comes up short. I couldn’t trust anyone, especially men. All they wanted was a direct line to my mother’s money.

  Really does a number on a girl’s self-confidence, that’s for sure.

  There was that one guy, however…

  And how did that work out for you?

  Ugh. After what I’ve been through, there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’ll trust anyone ever again.

  Living out my sexual fantasies with Dr. Bernadi is as close as I’m willing to get. Damn it, why did I have to think about Tal again? Now all I want to do is go home and knock on his door. Tangle my fingers in that thick, dark hair of his and kiss him stupid before he utters a word.

  Oh boy. I need to get a grip.

  No, what I need to do is check on the animals in their enclosures. If nothing else, the work will distract me. Who in their right mind could feel horny scooping out animal poop? I clean out each enclosure, a weird part of me enjoying the horrible work. These animals deserve the best care, and I like that I can help provide that by giving them a clean place to live.

  I’m finishing off some paperwork when the first of the day’s volunteers arrives.

  This is good. More distractions.

  So why am I still thinking about Tal?

  What would have happened if I knocked on his door? If courage hadn’t deserted me, if the reality of what I look like naked hadn’t hit me?

  Would he have yanked me to his body and done exactly as he promised: fucked me to an inch of my life?

  “Bia?”

  I startled, blinking up at Jenny, who is frowning at me. Oh boy, what did I miss? My cheeks burn, and I shuffle the papers on my desk. “Sorry. I zoned out.”

  Jenny laughs. “Remembering a good time, I’d say.”

  My cheeks burn hotter. The volunteers have no clue who I am, apart from the person the “new sponsor” put in place so there is someone paid to be here full-time. I’m just one of them, as far as they’re concerned, with longer hours, more work to do, and a pittance of a wage. As a consequence, I get to be treated like a normal person.

  I love being treated like a normal person. It’s so different.

  “Bia?” Jenny’s laughing again. “That must have been a really good time.”

  My face is on fire now. It doesn’t help I notice she keeps looking at the side of my neck. I tried to cover the love bite Tal left there, but since coming to Hardrock I’ve ditched all the trappings of my old life, including makeup. The best I could find was a flesh-colored zinc stick in my ski gear. I smudged it over the suction bruise, but every time I looked at the bruise, touched it, I remembered how it came to be there and got all trembly and horny and unsettled.

  I forgot I had to interact with people today. I should’ve tried harder with the zinc stick.

  Should’ve knocked on Tal’s door ten minutes after he left.

  God, I need help.

  Tugging my ponytail free of its band, I try to surreptitiously hide the side of my neck as I frown up at Jenny. “I’m sorry,” I say again, doing my best I-don’t-understand-what-you’re-implying face.

  I’m never going to win any acting awards.

  Jenny waves a hand, nose crinkling with mischief. “I’ll leave you alone in a second. Just wanted to let you know there’s a family coming in to see if they gel with Bruce.”

  Bruce is a massive two-year-old Great Dane–Old English Sheepdog cross who was found starving in the hills south of Hardrock. If I had a yard, I would’ve taken him myself. He has liquid-amber eyes that speak of love, trust, and a broken heart.

  “That’s so good to hear.” I relax in the creaky old chair at my desk, smiling. If a family’s going to give Bruce a new home, new love, it’s the best day. “Do they have kids?”

  Bruce—I’ve noticed—loves playing with kids. Especially if there’s a soccer ball involved. How anyone could have abandoned him I still don’t understand.

  “Two. Boys, ten and thirteen.” Jenny’s clearly done her job well. When it comes to rehoming the animals here, I like to know as much as I can about where they’re going. The better the fit for them, the less chance they’ll be returned. Or worse, abandoned again.

  “Excellent. Let me know when they get here.”

  She nods, smiling. “Can do. I’m going to let the horses out into the big yard for a little while. Want to join me?”

  Before I can answer, my cell phone pings with an incoming message.

  Tal?

  My heart smashes into my throat, before a wave of hot disgust flows over me. Of course it’s not Tal, I’ve never given him my number.

  Last night… My heart thumps. My sex contracts in a base, instinctual hunger so powerful it’s almost painful.

  Damn it.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Jenny says with a grin before heading out of the little, cluttered space I use as an office. “Have fun.”

  Reaching for my purse, I roll my eyes. Have fun? I had fun last night. Now, I’m a squirming mess of uncertainty and need and—

  “Oh no.” I stare at the message on my phone’s screen. Or rather, at the name of the person who sent it.

  Oh no. I thought I blocked Donny? I thought I’d got away from him. I thought—

  My phone pings again, a new message popping up on its screen.

  C’mon, kitten. Don’t ignore me.

  A roaring buzz fills my head. My stomach tightens. Or maybe churns. I can’t figure out if I feel sick or furious. Both?

  Hand shaking, eyes burning, I hover my thumb over the reply button.

  And then stab the delete button.

  My phone pings a third time: Please, kitten.

  My stomach twists again. Yep, definitely anger.

  Not interested, I type back. Stop texting me.

  I hit send, turn my phone off completely, and shove it back into my purse. Damn it, I should have blocked the bastard before I did that. Gritting my teeth, I snatch my phone out of my bag and turn it on.

  Can’t, kitten. The message pops up on my screen the second my phone is active again. Miss you too much. Want you too much.

  Stop. My thumb hurts from tapping so
fast and hard.

  I’m in the process of blocking him when another message pops up on my screen: Help!! Loki’s got out!!

  I throw my phone aside and bolt from the office.

  Shit. The last thing I need is Loki—a mischievous stallion found neglected on an abandoned dude ranch outside of Hardrock a few weeks ago—running amuck.

  Getting him back into the yard isn’t easy. But it is fun. And it definitely counts toward my weekly workout quota. By the time Jenny and I corral him into the safety of the yard, calm down him and the other two horses currently at the shelter, and get them all some fresh hay, I’m laughing.

  And I’ve forgotten about my phone and its messages.

  In fact, I can’t help but wonder what Tal would think of this little equestrian adventure. Would he laugh? I’ve heard him laugh so few times, but when he does, it makes everything between my legs and in my chest tighten.

  Wiping the perspiration from my forehead, I push aside thoughts of Tal and give Jenny a curious look. “Thanks. Do you know how Loki got out?”

  She shakes her head. “I let them all out of the stables, and as I was topping up their water I saw him prancing about on the other side of the far fence thinking he was all that. Did you close the gate when you got here this morning?”

  I blinked. Had I? I was so distracted when I arrived. “I think so.”

  Jenny looks as convinced as I sound.

  In other words, not much at all.

  Seriously, I really need to get a grip on myself. And maybe talk to Tal?

  Huh, talk. Yeah, that’s exactly what I want to do with Tal.

  “Looks like the family is here to meet Bruce,” Jenny says, gesturing behind me with a nod of her head. “Want me to go deal with it?”

  I nod. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  She heads off with a smile, jogging toward the main building where a large Dodge has pulled to a halt. A family spills out of the pickup—a dad, a mom, and two boys—and I head over to the gate. I always walk the grounds when I get here in the morning, checking to make sure everything will be safe for the larger animals when we let them out of their enclosures. I’m 90 percent positive I closed it after my check.