ROMANCE: The Surprise That Rocked Me

by Linda Wright

  “I want you,” she said. “I want you completely, but not here. Not at work.”

  “I get you.” He smiled. “I want you too. But we can’t be crazy.”

  “But I like crazy.” She slid her hand down to his stomach, then sighed as reality hit home. “We need to think about what we’re doing.”

  “I like what we’re doing.” He leaned in for a kiss. She didn’t stop him. Their lips met and tongues touched, swirling around the other and flicking as they explored. Paul’s hands slid down Amari’s back. She thought he was going for a handful of her butt, but he stopped at the small of her back and pulled her against him. His erection heated her hip, pressing into her.

  “I think he likes me.” She shifted her leg to rub herself against him.

  “He definitely likes you. But he’ll have to wait. We haven’t had our first date yet.”

  “I think this is fifth-date stuff.” She slid her arms around his waist and molded her body to his. Their lips collided again and they kissed breathlessly. After a minute, Amari pressed her hands to his stomach, pushing gently.

  “Nmm… Nmm…” They broke the kiss and Paul gazed at her, a dopey smile on his face.

  “Are you calling time?”

  “I have to…” Her chest was rising and falling so fast, she had trouble speaking. “This is new to me.”

  He laughed. “Me too. I’m out of practice.”

  “A big handsome guy like you?”

  “Oh?” He threw his head back, then circled it, swinging imaginary long hair. “You think I’m handsome?”

  “Well, you’re not too ugly, is what I mean.”

  “You little minx.” He squeezed her buttocks and she squealed. She enjoyed the brief intrusion, but grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands back up onto her back.”

  “Wrong time, huh?”

  “Wrong place, is more like.”

  “I don’t know.” He glanced around the exam room. “It’s cozy. I like it. We ought to move our stuff in, get a dog.”

  “Funny guy. No, we should take a rain check.”

  “Pick this up later?”

  She walked her fingers up his chest and onto his neck. “Don’t expect me to be so easy. You’ll have to earn it next time.”

  “You won’t be able to keep your hands off me.”

  Amari laughed. “Says you.”

  “Says me.” He leaned in and they kissed again, but with less haste. Their tongues were leisurely, teasing gently. Amari tried to forget the outside world, but it pressed against her mind, insisting she return. With a quiet sigh, she pulled back and dropped her head. Her fingers walked back down his chest, then pulled his shirt back into place. Their frantic tussle had crumpled it. She did her best to smooth the material.

  “End of round one,” Paul said softly. His big finger slid over her bottom lip. She bit it playfully, then on impulse, sucked it into her mouth.

  “Hey, hey, no teasing!” He withdrew it carefully, then tapped her nose with the wet fingertip.

  “I was getting in some practice,” she protested.

  “For what, exactly?”

  She smiled. “Oh, you know… lollipops.”

  ~

  Amari struggled to keep her mind on her work. It didn’t help that her panties were wet, reminding her how close she’d come to losing control. Her mind whirled as she tried to analyze her reasons for getting so involved with Paul, before she decided it didn’t really matter. They’d bonded, firstly over the intrigue of the amnesiac women, then over their mutual need for each other. She couldn’t remember needing anyone so much in her whole life. Every time she was left alone in her office, every time a patient left, her fingers slipped between her legs. All afternoon, she maintained her sexual high, not wanting to return to the real world. She was being unprofessional, she knew, but she was burning with lust. The medic within her knew it was nothing more than hormones, but it kept her body buzzing and more alive than ever before. How long could she keep this up? And how would she be able to resist Paul next time she was alone with him?

  She wouldn’t, and that was the truth. But then, maybe he was the distraction she needed. She always worked over her hours, and took files home. She needed a social life, and if that meant falling for a guy from work, then so be it.

  But did it have to mean sex? She reached down and stroked her crotch, which radiated heat. The material of her pants was damp, meaning she was soaked right through. She’d need to be careful when she got up from behind the desk. Unless Paul came in and locked the door. Then he could bend her over and fuck her over the desk instead, pinning her down and slamming against her body as he pushed his cock deep…

  She shook away the thought as footsteps stopped outside her door. A quiet knock, and it was time for the next patient.

  Daydream over… for now.

  ~

  If it had been Paul who’d knocked on her door, Amari would have lost control of herself. Fortunately, it was a young man who had injured his thigh in a work accident. However, she had to bite her lip when he removed his pants, leaving her to examine the cut that ran up his leg and beneath his briefs. The outline of his cock was clearly visible through the black cotton, and the closer she got, the more it swelled. She told herself it was flattering, that a barely twenty-something guy could get turned on by an older woman in her thirties.

  “You might want to keep that under control,” she said as she cleaned his wound.

  “Sorry, Doctor. I think it likes you—hey! That stung!”

  “Sorry. Thant’s what happens when I get distracted.” She tried to shake the thoughts from her head, but they kept lapping at her, faster than an incoming tide. The only thing at that moment between professionalism and sex, was a layer of thin cotton. Her patient would offer no protest if she was to pull the briefs aside and take him into her mouth. Or if she bent over her desk, he would be there in an instant.

  “Oh, my god. Stop it…” she muttered.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “Sorry. I’m trying to focus.”

  “This isn’t helping, is it?” She stared as he squeezed his erection.

  “I think you need a cold shower.” And so do I. What’s wrong with me?

  Despite her burning libido, she managed to clean and dress the wound without disgracing herself. The young man seemed disappointed by the lack of action. Amari suspected a diet of porn had given him false expectations about close encounters with females.

  And yet, it very nearly happened. She took a deep, steadying breath, then called reception. “Please hold my next appointment for five minutes.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Time to fix this.” She locked the door and returned to her seat, then pushed her pants down as far as her knees. Her fingers slipped inside her panties, to find her lips wet and slippery. A quiet groan escaped her throat as she found her clit and circled it, gently at first, then with increasing pressure.

  “Mmm…” Her mouth fell open as desire swelled within her. Her buttocks tightened and her toes tensed as she applied more pressure. Dipping into her tight opening, her fingers became slick and shining, enhancing her pleasure.

  “Mmm, fuck…” Her head fell back against the chair, and her breathing deepened. Not long now… Wet clicking sounds filled the room as her body tensed, preparing for orgasm. She gasped and moaned softly, wary of a passing patient hearing her. Her rhythm was familiar; circle the clit ten times, dip between the lips for more wetness, then repeat. She wondered what the young man would have thought if he’d known she was playing with herself. A fantasy materialised in her head, of her taking his cock in her mouth, of her sucking eagerly on him as she stroked her pussy. No sex, just masturbation and oral. She’d suck him until he filled her mouth with sweet, sticky cum, until her own orgasm gripped her.

  Her feet left the floor. She suppressed her cries with the back of her hand, but several groans and some tight squeaks escaped. She shuddered and jerked as tight, hard spasms shook her body, squeezing more noi
se between her clenched teeth. Her body jerked hard, banging her knees on the underside of her desk.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” she whispered. “Oh, wow. Wow, wow, wow…” The peak of the orgasm passed, and her muscles started to relax. The tips of her toes touched the carpet again. Her breathing was loud and labored. She blew out her cheeks, trying to steady her breaths as her heart hammered against her ribs. The room had grown uncomfortably hot, Or was it her? With the orgasm fading, she felt foolish, wanton. What was wrong with her, frigging herself like a hormonal teenager, and in the middle of the working day? Her pulse slowed to normal and the flush faded from her cheeks. She lifted her hands, to see her fingers shining with her own sexual lubricant.

  “Oh, fuck…” She struggled upright, hampered by the low position she’d adopted, her sticky hands, and the fact her pants were restricting her legs. The small sink beckoned. She managed to get to her feet, and stumbled across to wash her hands, feeling foolish in her half-dressed state. As she coated her hands with soap, she shook her head at her recent lapse of professionalism, despite knowing the possible consequences of not relieving the sexual tension. She had been so horny, she might very well have molested the next patient.

  “I nearly gave myself to that last one…” she told her reflection. “What the hell was I thinking?” Fortunately, the frantic masturbation had taken the edge off her urges. Once she felt calm enough, she unlocked the door and informed reception she was ready for her next patient.

  “As long as I don’t have to examine his genitals, I’ll be fine,” she said to herself. The door opened, and a thirty-year-old man stepped into her surgery.

  “Ah, Mister Baines.” She smiled tightly and cursed her luck. “Has your circumcision swelling gone down by now?”

  ~

  By the time Saturday arrived, Amari was nervous as hell. After their frantic clinch at the hospital, she and Paul had conducted themselves like adults, rather than rampant teenagers. They’d kissed again, deeply and passionately, but their clothes had remained in place. Despite Amari’s brief corrective lapse at her desk, she’d managed to remain cool and calm. Masturbation had restored her self-control, and although she felt guilty for not giving herself to Paul, she thoroughly enjoyed the evenings they spent together, fully clothed. She hoped he felt the same way, despite her temporary chastity.

  After the party, she decided. That’s the time to get jiggy. In truth, she was still horny for him, but in a measured, controllable way.

  She dressed with care, choosing her sexiest underwear, anticipating a fun night in bed with Paul after the party ended. She took a moment to admire her figure in the long mirror, turning this way and that, pulling in her slight tummy to taut perfection. Years of careful eating had paid off.

  The Erdem dress was a snug fit, requiring a great deal of wriggling. It left her shoulders completely bare, aside from three spaghetti straps on her right shoulder, and a single strap on her left. No logic, she thought, just fashion. She could imagine Kate Middleton enjoying the black, slinky outfit on one of her royal engagements. Three-inch heels and a silk clutch bag completed the ensemble. She’d paid more for the bag than she’d been comfortable with, but it felt good in her hand, as if she’d stepped up a rung in the societal ladder.

  As she waited for Paul to arrive, she rechecked her facts. She’d narrowed the possibilities down to three venues. The Wildfire Club, a hothouse for millionaires and their attendant gold diggers. The second was Detendez-vous, advertised as the place for the well-heeled to escape the pressures of society, surrounded by luxury and unhurried pleasures. Amari thought it sounded like a cat house.

  La Casa del Diablo was the final possibility. Social media raved about it, although apparently, only a very few had managed to persuade their way inside. Most of the chat was speculation. None of the lucky few had ever confirmed publicly what went on inside. Amari’s instincts told her to try La Casa first, but Paul thought their chances of being allowed inside would improve if they’d been seen at the other venues first.

  She checked the battery was fully charged, then pushed the tracker deep into her clutch bag, ensuring the small device was well hidden. Paul had suggested a camera, but Amari was wary of it being seen. Cameras, by their very nature, had to be out in the open, or peeking out from behind something. No, there was too much chance of being spotted. But the tracker could be well hidden. It brought her comfort. No point in venturing into the lion’s den, she reasoned, if there was a chance she might disappear like the other women.

  At seven o’clock, Paul arrived, driving a brand-new Jaguar.

  “I’m impressed. Have you been doing some extra surgery to earn those wheels?”

  “Rented, I’m sad to say.”

  “Pity.” She tapped a finger against her ruby-red lips. “If it was yours, I’d have you take me over the hood right now.”

  “Well, there IS a lease-to-buy option.”

  “Too late, lover boy. You already blew your chances.”

  “Dang it.” He dropped his head.

  “Don’t worry.” She took hold of his hand. “I dressed up real nice for you. If you’re nice to me…”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh?”

  “I might let you buy me dinner.”

  “So a blowjob is out of the question?”

  “Paul!”

  “Too much?”

  “You didn’t even say please.” They laughed together. Paul opened the passenger door, and Amari poured herself into the low seat, wishing she’d worn a Versace trouser suit instead of a tight dress. Paul grinned as he dropped into the driver’s seat.

  “Hold on tight. This baby has a supercharged vee-eight.” He gunned the engine and roared away, pushing Amari back into her seat, which hugged her tightly. The engine thundered up through the gears, each shift accompanied by the powerful whine of the supercharger.

  “Wow.”

  And so they arrived in style at The Wildfire Club. Before they opened the car doors, Amari knew it was the wrong place.

  “No?” Paul asked, frowning.

  “Ninety-nine percent sure.”

  “What’s the giveaway?”

  “See the mature blond in the green dress?”

  Paul peered through the windshield. “Black clutch bag and platforms?”

  “She’s patient number two.”

  “Wow. I didn’t recognize her. She looks totally different.”

  “Hot, you mean?”

  “Maybe—ow!” He covered his arm where Amari had slapped him. “No fair.”

  “Keep your lurid thoughts to yourself, doctor.”

  “I only said she looked different.”

  Amari shrugged. “Different hairstyle, some color change. Deeper tan…”

  “Maybe she’s back for more?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  Paul thought for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right. She swore on her life that she’d never go back, even though she couldn’t remember where she’d been.”

  “And yet she’s out socializing again. Strange thing, that.”

  “Only a month after her trauma.”

  “What if this was the place she couldn’t remember?”

  “No. When I put her under and asked where she’d been, she started repeating the same words over and over. ‘Not going back, not going back…’ She seemed determined.”

  “So if she didn’t go back, this is the wrong venue.”

  “And we didn’t even have to get out.” Paul shifted the stick, and pulled away, leaving the bemused valet to stare after them.

  “On to the Detendez-vous?”

  “La Casa is closer.”

  “Detendez-vous was second most likely.”

  “It has the wrong vibe, Paul. I’m pretty sure we’ll be wasting our time there.”

  “Gut instinct?”

  “Woman’s intuition.”

  “There’s no scientific proof of—”

  “If I’m right, you owe me a hundred dollars.”

  “And if you’re
wrong, you owe me…” He poked his tongue into his cheek.

  She rolled her eyes. “A blow job?”

  “I was going to say dinner, but if you have the urge...”

  She slapped his arm again. “Smartass.”

  They arrived at La Casa del Diablo within ten minutes. The valet was efficient, handing Paul a gold-rimmed card before dropping into Jaguar’s seat and moving away, without abusing the vee-eight. Paul slipped an arm around Amari’s shoulders and together they walked toward the wide steps of La Casa.

  The building was old, perhaps a hundred years or more. The stonework was elegantly carved into whorls and frivolous motifs. Sash windows studded the facade, blasting light into the evening, and promising excitement within.

  “Do you think we can get past the heavies?” Amari nodded toward the suited men flanking the entrance.

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Paul pulled out a bundle of cash and fanned the bills with his fingertips.

  “Wow, a whole day’s wages.”

  “For you, maybe.”

  “I wish,” Amari pushed out her lower lip.

  “No pouting, now. We have to make a good impression.” They had reached the steps. The heavies looked huge as they frowned down at them. Amari steeled herself, then began to climb, barely able to lift her legs to the steps in her tight dress.

  “Damned impractical…” she muttered.

  “Now, now. Play nice.”

  They reached the top, and at an unheard signal, the heavies moved to block their way. Paul peeled off bills, one by one, until they moved aside. They stared openly as Amari passed. She tried to ignore them, but it required a great deal of effort. Hadn’t they seen a woman in a dress before?

  “They can’t believe how hot you look.”

  “What? Me?”

  “You’re stunning in that dress, did you know?”