In Too Deep: A Romantic Suspense Novel

by Landish, Lauren

  Our conversation ended, but for the rest of the day Green did everything he could to avoid me, passing me off to one of the other attending physicians, something he had never done before. When my duties required that I talk with him, he was almost painfully polite, never once using any foul language, nicknames, or even derisive tones. Instead, it was always "Miss White," and then passing me back off to the other doctors as quickly as he could.

  Even the nurses and other staff noticed Green's odd behavior. "What the hell did you do to him, use your Jedi mind tricks or something?" Gary, one of the male nurses, asked about halfway through the shift. "I've never seen him act this way, and I've been here almost as long as he has."

  "I didn't do anything," I said, a little weirded out myself. "Seriously, I've been going to class and working at the Shamrock the past three days."

  "Well, whatever you did, keep it up," Gary said, as he and I helped a patient into a wheelchair for going upstairs. "He's been nicer to everyone this shift, and even the patients are complaining less. Aren't you, Mr. Teague?"

  "Go blow yourself," the patient, an old alcoholic who was in at least three times a month, usually with something connected to his kidneys or liver, snapped. "Fuckin' hospital people and your damn tests. Just stick me with the same damned IV you gave me last time and let me relax in peace!"

  "Now Mr. Teague, you know I can't do that," Gary joked, giving me a wink. While Gary didn't often work with the patients, he had the uncanny ability to let almost any harassment or bad treatment from the patients just roll off of him. It had earned him perhaps the only semi-respectful nickname Green ever gave anyone, Duck. As in, water off a duck's back. "Pushing you upstairs for scans makes my life worth living."

  By Tuesday, the mystery had gotten deeper, leaving the entire ER buzzing with rumor. Claiming a personal matter, Dr. Green took a sudden leave of absence with the hospital and got out of town, not telling anyone where. As I waited inside my apartment for Mark to pick me up for our date, I just set aside the whole thing, and thought about Mark.

  Even though I hadn't seen him since the previous Thursday afternoon, we talked every day over the phone, or sent text messages to each other. We'd spent an hour on Sunday morning just talking, most of the time on speakerphone as we both went about our breakfast routines, just talking about the best places to get pizza in town. It was great, and the more we talked, the more I realized that not only did I like Mark, I was starting to fall for him. It scared me, honestly, but thrilled me at the same time.

  I was tapping my foot on the carpet, dressed in my second best dress, a blue sleeveless one piece that stopped just above my knees. I could make it double as a cocktail dress if I wanted to by adding some accessories, but tonight I wanted it more casual, so I left them off. I was just checking my earrings for the fourth time when the doorbell rang. I checked my peephole and saw Mark standing out on the narrow concrete walkway. He was dressed up just a bit, in black chinos paired with a red long sleeved shirt that hid his impressive physique. Still, he looked devastatingly masculine, and my heart sped up just a bit.

  "Just a second," I called through the door, turning to the small mirror next to my coat rack to check my appearance. I couldn't tell if I looked good or not, but at least my makeup didn't make me look like a clown in my opinion, so I opened the door. "Hey."

  Mark's immediate response was both funny and touching. He said nothing, just looking at me with his funny little smile, his eyes going up and down my body while I stood there, fidgeting just a bit. "What?"

  "You look beautiful," he answered, "and I wanted to take a moment to remind myself of that. Seriously, you look amazing in that dress. Shall we?"

  We had decided on a classic date, going out to a movie. In our phone calls and text messages, we found that we both enjoyed the classic movie theater experience, and agreed to go to a recent blockbuster neither of us had seen yet.

  "We'll probably throw out half of this," I said as I took a handful to munch on, "but it's just part of the tradition. Big popcorn, big drinks."

  "And both of us doing extra cardio tomorrow," Mark whispered. "But you're right, it's a huge part of tradition. When I was a kid, I sometimes replaced the popcorn with candy, though. Two big movie theater sized Reese's Cups, or maybe the Reese's Pieces."

  "Me too," I giggled, taking a sip of my soda. "Except mine was Junior Mints or Mounds. Now, though, no way. Maybe I'm just growing up, but all that sugar just doesn't do it for me anymore."

  The movie started, and we both were soon engaged in the action on screen, enjoying the pretty mindless plot. You knew within twenty minutes who the love interest was, the problem and the solution. Still, it was an enjoyable movie, made even better when Mark put his arm around my shoulder and lifted the armrest between us. Snuggling against his strong chest, we balanced touches and bodily contact with watching the movie, until the end credits rolled, when my body was humming.

  "Great movie," Mark said, his hand still resting on my shoulder, rubbing in slow, soft circles. "You ready to go?"

  "Not really," I said, reaching up and kissing him. Our tongues met, a moan coming from deep in my chest as his hand brushed against my breast. His fingers molded against the curve, and we soon found ourselves making out like a pair of high school students, until a polite cough behind us interrupted us.

  "Sorry guys, but I need to clean up," the staff member said, holding up his trash bag and broom. I felt myself blushing, but Mark just nodded calmly and helped me to my feet, his hand resting casually on my lower back. He handed the staff our half eaten tub of popcorn and led me out of the movie theater, acting for all the world like he owned the entire cinema complex.

  Outside, we chatted about the movie for a bit as we walked across the parking lot, and Mark held the door of his Mercedes open for me. Coming around to the driver's side, he settled in before looking at me. "Back to my place?"

  I could hear the question in his voice. If I said no, he'd accept it, while at the same time if I said yes, I'd be in for another experience I'd never forget. The decision was an easy one. "Your place it is."

  * * *

  Mark

  It took a while for Sophie to adjust to my condominium overlooking the Park. After going and putting away my wallet and keys, I found her still standing in the living room, looking around. "This place is amazing."

  "Thanks," I said honestly. "It took a lot of work and even more luck to get it. But I'm not thinking of stopping here."

  "Oh?" Sophie said, breaking her temporary paralysis. "You plan on buying the penthouse or something?"

  I laughed and went over to the glass door that led out to my balcony. Opening it, I let the night air in, enjoying the light chill. "Take a look," I said, waving Sophie over. "What do you see?"

  "The Park, mostly," Sophie said, stepping outside and putting her hands on the railing. Her body was slightly bent over at the waist, giving me a wonderful view of her ass as she started swaying hypnotically back and forth, and I missed part of her next words. " . . . and, of course, the lights. Why do you ask?"

  I pried my eyes away from the view of Sophie's posterior to lean on the railing next to her. I looked out at the city, and sighed. "I see a city that screams out, exploited by those who take advantage of it. I see pimps, hustlers, drug dealers and whores, all scrambling and fighting amongst each other while not realizing they are being held down by those with real power, the real crooks who pull the strings around here."

  Sophie turned to look at me, her green eyes searching my face. "You have a pretty negative point of view.”

  "Sorry, don't mean to sound all down or anything," I said, "Especially after such a great date. But it’s how I see this city. Anyway, my eventual goal is to go someplace where I'd not be afraid to raise a family."

  "So you're thinking of having children?" Sophie asked, quirked her eyebrow. Those green eyes never left my face, and I stood up, returning her gaze.

  "When the right woman agrees," I said, running my hand down her b
ack. The feel of her back through the silky fabric of her dress was soft and amazing, and I leaned in closer. "But when she does, yes. I'd like to have children, at least two. A girl and a boy."

  "Aren't you forgetting something?" Sophie asked, her smile disappearing. She rested, took her left hand off of the railing to cover mine. "You said the right woman. You have to find her first."

  Instead of answering, I pulled her closer, whispering into her ear. "I think I already have," I said, hearing her breath catch. "That is, when she realizes that she's the right one."

  "I see," Sophie replied. "Well, you might have to convince that woman that she should choose you. What more do you have to offer besides a very handsome face, an obviously large bank account, and a pretty good taste in music and movies?"

  I laughed, and ran my hand down her back to rest on her hip. "I can also cook, and I promise that I'd never let her down."

  "Really?" she said, turning totally to me and wrapping her arms around my waist. "That's quite a lot to live up to. You might be challenged to prove it every night. Your woman might have a very active libido, after all."

  Picking her up in my arms, I turned and carried her inside, towards my bedroom. "I can't let her down," I said, burying my face into her neck and kissing the tender soft skin. "I guess I'll just have to show her what I'm made of."

  I knew that satisfying her sexual needs would never be a problem. But the whole family thing was a fantasy for me. I wished it could someday be so, but in my line of work, I’m not sure if that day would ever come.

  Chapter 11

  Sophie

  It was one of those dreams where you knew you were dreaming. I was swimming in the ocean at night, I think it was the Mediterranean, when suddenly my bikini was gone. I knew I was dreaming right then, because I never wear a bikini. The warm water flowed over my skin, caressing my body and giving me a languid, relaxed feeling. I turned over onto my back, letting my body float on the salty water. As I did, I could feel the small waves lapping against my legs, and my knees drifted apart on their own. The first wash of the warm sea water against my inner thighs sent warm waves of their own through my stomach, and my legs drifted farther apart.

  I could feel something warm and wet trace the inside of my leg, sending little electric thrills to my stomach. In my dream I couldn't see anything, but the soft touches continued, and I could feel myself growing hotter and wetter with each thrilling stroke. I felt my dream start to break apart, and I felt a pang of regret at first, thinking I would be losing the erotic sensations. As the darkness of the starry night sky was replaced by the more common darkness of my closed eyelids, it took only a moment to realize that the warm, wet feeling between my legs wasn't going away.

  My eyes fluttered open, and I could see that the soft light of the stars had been replaced by the mostly-full moon streaming in through the open window of Mark's bedroom. Before I could recognize anything else, the warm wonderful feeling came again, tracing so close to my labia that my eyes opened wide at the feeling. I could feel slightly shaggy hair against the inside of my legs, and I knew what was happening, even before I saw Mark kneeling on the bed, his tongue tracing around my inner thighs. "What are you doing?" I asked, my words going from a sleepy whisper to a lusty moan as he licked around the soft edges of my lips. "mmmmm . . .”

  "I woke up, it was a beautiful night, and you looked so sexy lying there in the moonlight, I couldn't resist," he said, his voice only slightly muffled by my thighs. "Should I stop?"

  "No, please don't . . .” I answered, running my fingers through his hair. In the month we'd been going out, he'd let his hair grow a bit longer after I commented that I liked longer haired men. But he'd never gone down on me before, and while I didn't regret it, I had missed the feeling. I had almost resigned myself to being in one of those relationships where it just wasn't going to happen. I'm sure every woman's had one of those.

  Now, though, I could feel Mark's tongue licking my wet folds lightly, just barely parting my outer lips to expose the reddish pink inner jewel hidden inside. He licked me from my clit all the way down to the entrance to my tunnel, gathering the nectar inside before repeating the motion. "MMmmmm, delicious," he muttered as his tongue stiffened and he began to literally tongue fuck me, reaching deep inside my body with each stabbing thrust. When I was almost delirious with pleasure, he stopped, sucking my lips and rolling them between his own, carefully keeping his teeth from my sensitive skin. "I should do this more often."

  Pulling his lips back, I felt Mark's fingers pull my lips apart, teasing my clit from its hood. I trembled as the cool night air played with his breath on my fiery button, until I was ready to beg for him to end my anticipation. Before I could speak, though, the narrow tip of his tongue flicked over my clit, sending lightning coursing through my body. With every quick, feather light lick, the breath was driven out of me, until black dots swam in my vision. I pushed Mark's head back for just a moment to take a deep breath before pulling him back in, wrapping my legs around his head. "Don't stop, please."

  Mark's licks took on a different quality, with long, broad sweeps, each sweep raising the temperature of my body while still allowing me to breathe. Within just a minute or two, I was on fire, and my juices flowed like water down my inner thighs. Mark pulled back, and smiled, his teeth white in the moonlight, his skin shining with my juices. "Beg for it."

  Growling in frustration, I squirmed on the bed, trying not to be reduced to a begging, pleading, wanton slut for him again. It didn't matter though, and we both knew it. No matter how hard I tried to resist, the sparkle in his eyes and the feeling of his touch on my skin drove away all resistance from me, and I would do anything he asked. Coming straight from sleep and as aroused as I was, I didn't resist long. "Please Mark, please make me cum."

  "Yes my little hime," he said, lowering his head again. He had started calling me his hime two weeks prior, and no matter how often I asked, he wouldn't tell me what it meant. I didn't have a chance to think about it more though as he resumed his flickering, light licks around my clit, circling and flicking until the tension built within me, like an over-tightened clock spring.

  I was reduced to incoherent begging, my breath coming in deep gasps when Mark slid two fingers inside me, while at the same time just barely letting his teeth scape over my clit. The spring inside me broke, uncoiling a climax through my body that left my thighs shaking, and my feet drumming across the broad muscles of Mark's back. He took it all without a single complaint, lifting his head when my body had finally settled back. "That was wonderful, but I need more."

  Barely giving me a chance to draw a breath, Mark took my right leg and turned me over, pulling my hips up into the air. Doggy style was his favorite position, and I felt my breath driven out of me again as his thick cock slid deep inside me. Despite the amount of lubrication my body had produced, I was still tight, his cock was so much thicker than his tongue or his two fingers, and I felt stretched almost to the point of pain as he pushed in without stopping until I could feel his hips settle against my ass. "You've got a great ass," Mark teased as he pulled back, leaving just the tip of his cock inside me. "I think next time I'm going to fuck it until we both come."

  I had told him about my fantasy of anal, but my trepidation of having never experienced that. Mark had taken it all in stride, sometimes teasing me but never in ill will, instead using his almost uncanny sense of mental states to relax me to the idea. "Just go slow," I said, feeling a knot of fear unknot itself in my chest. I had never given him such explicit permission before. "And let me get some lube?"

  "Another time then," Mark whispered, running his hands over my hips. He pushed in again as he did, and soon both of us were left breathless as he thrust in and out, his huge cock filling me over and over.

  I hadn't expected him to last long. Most of my other lovers, after licking me to orgasm, always wanted to just get in and come as soon as they could. Mark instead kept his pace controlled, a tight reign on his pleasure as he let my
body recover and build again. When I started pushing back into him, my forehead buried on the pillow and my breasts swaying with every thrust, he sped up. I could feel tears or sweat trickling down my cheeks as he drove us both higher and higher. My nipples were scraping over the light cotton of the bed sheet, adding to the pleasure I was feeling.

  The sensation of him pounding me left me senseless, crying out into the pillow as I sped toward my second orgasm. Mark picked up his rhythm, his hips slapping against my wet skin until, with a harsh grunt, he drove his hips as hard as he could into me. He sent me crashing into another orgasm. I clamped down around his cock, not letting him go. I pulled hard on the bed sheets, and I could hear with what little was left of my mind the hard purring sound of them ripping, I was yanking so hard. With a final cry, I pitched forward, his cock pulling out of me, and I collapsed into the pillow.

  Chapter 12

  Mark

  We didn't get up until ten o'clock the next morning. It was a Saturday, and Sophie didn't have a shift at the ER, which I was grateful for. With the unexpected luxury of the long morning, we both slept in, and I woke up with Sophie's leg draped over mine. It took me sixteen minutes to extract myself without waking her up, but the results were worth it, as I surprised her in bed with a quick brunch of scrambled eggs, some breakfast sausages, and some leftover potato hash I'd made for myself two nights before. "My my, wonderful midnight sex and then brunch in bed," she said, her smile angelic even after she pulled a spare t-shirt over her head. "Not too many women are as lucky as I am."

  "No woman is as lucky as you are," I teased back. By this point in our relationship, we could tease each other easily without worry of the other getting offended, although Sophie did say she thought I was always quietly self-confident, which I liked. "So what would you like to do after your brunch? By the way, when do you go into the Shamrock tonight?"