Doc: a Club Alias novel

by KD Robichaux

“You should never be afraid of me, goddess. For doing anything. You never have to fear me, ever. I’ll never hurt you,” he swears, and I can hear in his voice he’s speaking the God’s honest truth.

  “You gave me everything I wanted and more, and you replaced all the bad memories of what he did to my mouth…” My voice catches, because this is all leading up to me asking for something else I want, something else I need more than anything else to help me heal. “And I… I just want…”

  “What do you want, goddess? Whatever it is, I will raze hell and earth to give it to you,” he urges, his words an oath.

  “I… I want, more than anything, for you to be the one to erase all the things he did to me, to be the one who replaces all the bad with your good,” I finally get out, and his big body that’s completely surrounding me shudders.

  And then I’m on my back and he’s looming over me, his hips cradled between my legs. I feel the heavy weight of his erection at the juncture of my thighs, and I close my eyes, ready to accept him into my body.

  But he doesn’t move, and I open my eyes back up to look into his.

  “I know you heard what I said before, goddess,” he says low, his voice deep between us, and my heart picks up speed. “I know you heard me when I said you are the woman I love.”

  I can only nod, unable to speak. He’s just too beautiful, his eyes a swirling blue, his face soft yet serious.

  “And being the man who is unashamedly, unequivocally in love with you, I will do everything in my power to give you exactly what you want and need in order to erase all those bad memories,” he tells me, and I swallow at the promise in his eyes and words.

  “Okay,” I breathe.

  I blink up at him, the tension high surrounding us, as I wonder if he’s going to make love to me, wanting him to make love to me.

  “But I’m also Dr. Neil Walker, professional psychologist in all things dealing with cases like yours. So my counter-wager is, as long as you’re willing to let me help you outside of the bedroom as well, then I want to teach you to heal all of yourself, so you can finally feel whole,” he adds, and I search his handsome face. He might’ve posed it as a bet, naming his stakes, a proposition, but I know in my heart that he wouldn’t just give in to only helping me with the sexual part of my healing. He’d still find ways to subtly work his shrink powers on me like he’s been doing for the past year I’ve lived with him.

  But I give in, because I am that girl who has always been in love with the idea of being in love. That’s just who I always was as a person. It was what made me, me. And I’ve been lost inside myself ever since I made that promise to never fall in love again. So if Neil can make me feel like me again, then I have nothing to lose and my whole self to regain.

  “Deal.”

  Chapter 8

  Doc

  As much as I wanted to just adjust myself between her legs and put us both out of our misery, the time just wasn’t right. When I finally take Astrid, it won’t be when her face is full of tears from rehashing her past.

  I kissed her, and she was startled at first, having never tasted herself and because it was only our third kiss. Everything had gotten so heated in the shower so quickly, going from washing each other’s body to her on her knees, giving me the best blowjob of my life, that there was no time for kissing before I was devouring her pussy with my mouth.

  Now that things have gotten physical between us though, I’ll kiss her every time I damn well please.

  I’d gone into the bathroom and soaked a washcloth in warm water, wringing it out before bringing it to the bedroom. And then I knocked her hands away as I cleaned her myself, taking care of my woman the way she’d never been treated before. The way she’ll be treated from here on out. She was shy at first, having another person clean between her legs, but then she relaxed as the warmth of the cloth soothed her swollen core.

  And now we’re downstairs, and I’m sitting on a stool watching her flit around the kitchen after she insisted she be the one to fix us some late lunch, since we never ate anything after we got home from the gym.

  She sets two plates side by side on the island across from me and grabs the four pieces of toast out of the toaster, setting two on each plate. As she twirls over to the refrigerator, it’s not hard to see the dancer beneath her movements. It’s always been there subtly, but as I take her in more thoroughly, her posture is different. She’s standing straighter, taller, her head higher than I’ve ever seen it.

  When she turns back around, closing the fridge with her hip, she looks at me as she brings the avocado spread over to the plates and opens the drawer to grab a butter knife. “What? What’s that face?” she asks, using the knife to point at me across the white marble.

  The face she’s referring to is probably the knowing little smirk that won’t leave my lips.

  “Endorphins look really good on you, goddess,” I reply, crossing my arms and resting them on the counter.

  She smiles a closed-lip smile but doesn’t reply. She spreads the mashed avocado on the four pieces of toast and then spins around to grab the egg whites she cooked a few minutes ago. She uses the spatula to separate the eggs into four folded pieces, and puts a piece on each slice of toast. When she replaces the skillet to the burner, she stands on her tiptoes to open the cabinet above the stove, struggling to reach what she’s looking for. Her ass and legs are a work of art in her soft shorts she put on, and I adjust the fucker in my pants who is still very confused about his age.

  She comes back down on her heels with a huff, turning to march over to the pantry where she keeps the stepstool I got her after I caught her climbing on the counters. My heart had nearly stopped, imagining her falling while I’m not at home. But I stop her before she takes another step.

  “Goddess,” I prompt, and she turns to face me.

  “Yes, Neil?” she asks, frustration from not being able to reach what she needs filling her voice.

  “What’s closer, me or the stool?”

  She pops her hip and crosses her arms over her white tank top, pushing her tits together and looking all kinds of sassy. “You, obviously. But I can do it myself.”

  “But you don’t have to, Astrid. You can ask me to help. I’m here, I’m home, and you’re no longer going to do everything with this idea that you need to earn your keep,” I tell her.

  “I’m the one cooking, because I’m hungry and you don’t know how I like my avo-toast,” she counters, and I lift my brow.

  “You don’t think I know how you like your avo-toast?”

  She straightens her stance but keeps her arms crossed. “Well… no.” But she sounds unsure.

  So I set her straight. “Right now, you’re wanting to grab the stepstool so you can get the Everything but the Bagel Seasoning, the red pepper flakes, and the sea salt grinder from the top cabinet. You’ll sprinkle just the right amount of the seasoning to cover the top of the eggs and avocado where there’s no space untouched by the black sesame seeds. If there is a space, you will take the butter knife and fill in the gaps with the ones on top of each other. You’ll put two shakes worth of the red pepper flakes per slice, and one twist of the salt grinder over each piece of toast.”

  She looks at me, lips parted.

  I look at her, my smirk returning.

  “Sound about right?” I mock, lifting my chin.

  After staring at me in shock for a few more seconds, she shuts her mouth and flips her hair over her shoulder, which she blow-dried once we got out of my bed. “Fine. You know how I like my avo-toast. But still, I feel like I should repay you for the…” She flaps her hand in the direction of the staircase. “…the orgasm.”

  “Ah, but, goddess. I could counter that by saying I was just repaying you for the… orgasm… you gave me in the shower.” I lift a brow, my smirk widening into a full-on grin when her cheeks turn pink.

  She huffs. “Is this one of your lessons outside the bedroom, Doc?”

  I chuckle at her use of my nickname. “It might be.” />
  She rolls her pretty blue eyes then uncrosses her arms to point at the cabinet above her. “Then fine. Would you please grab me the Everything but the Bagel Seasoning, red pepper flakes, and sea salt out this god-forsakenly high cabinet for me?”

  I spin on the barstool and stand, walking around the island while still keeping my eyes locked with hers, only looking away to find the shakers and grinder she needs before turning to face her. I hold them out, presenting them like a gift. “Here you go, my goddess.”

  She can’t help but smile then, taking them from my hands. “Appreciate it, my big, strong, and ridiculously tall Viking,” she replies, and she prances back up to the plates.

  My grin softens at the endearment, my heart swelling inside my chest, and it takes everything in me not to bend her over the kitchen island and claim her like the warrior she’s proclaimed me as.

  Once she fixes both our plates, she grabs two mineral waters out of the fridge and pushes a set over the counter to my spot, and I go and take my seat. When she reaches for the stool at the end of the island like she always does, ready to sit in her usual spot across the wide expanse, I stop her once again.

  “Goddess?”

  “Yes, Neil?” She sighs.

  “Would you like to sit next to me? I’d really love your company during this fine meal you’ve prepared,” I prompt.

  She looks at her plate and water then across to the place next to me, and then she meets my eyes. “You gonna stop me when I sneak Scout some bites?”

  I lean up and glance over the bar to where the Aussie sits sentinel on the other side, right next to where she usually puts her stool. I rest back on my stool and sigh. “Not if it means you’ll sit next to me. And not too much avocado. It’s not that great for dogs.”

  She pouts. “But Scout boy loves hims some guac,” she says in a baby voice, looking down at the asshole, whose tail wags so hard that it beats against the lower cabinets now that she spoke to him.

  “Scout boy will be fine. Now get that sexy ass over here,” I demand, and she grumbles, pushing her plate and water across the island. And like the noble steed he is to her, Scout follows her around and takes up residence between her stool and the island when she takes the seat next to me.

  “Good girl,” I murmur, and when she blushes once more, I lean over and kiss her quickly on the lips, just because I can.

  We spent the rest of the day doing various tasks. I finished up some paperwork for new Club Alias memberships, went online and added Astrid to my gym membership, and answered some texts and emails from a couple of patients. Astrid did a load of laundry, and I peeked into her room to find her reading on her Kindle once I was done with all my stuff.

  Now, we sit on the couch, Scout’s ass between us once again, and we’re watching the episode of Indian Matchmaking that she fell asleep during last night. Even though the dog separates our bodies, my arm rests behind her along the back of the couch, and my fingers sift through her blonde hair. She unconsciously twirls Scout’s ear between her fingers, and as she focuses on the TV, I watch as her eyes grow heavy while I play with her hair.

  As it turns dark outside and we finish out the first season, she asks if there’s something else I’d like to watch. I tell her to pick again, since her last selection was so good, and she puts on the first episode of The Haunting of Hill House. She says it’s excellent, and when I tell her she doesn’t have to rewatch it just for me, she promises she was already planning to re-binge it because the new season comes out soon and she wants it fresh in her mind.

  Scout gets down and puts himself to bed, and with him not between us, there’s nothing to stop me from reaching over and pulling Astrid to me. She doesn’t resist, and I adjust us until her head is resting on my thigh, her legs stretching out in the other direction on the couch. I stroke my fingers through her hair, trying to pay attention to the show, but I keep glancing down at her face, where I can only see the flutter of her eyelashes. And soon, she falls asleep.

  So we don’t have a repeat of last night, I leave the TV on as I lift her, and when her eyes open sleepily to see what’s happening, she snuggles deeper against my chest when it’s my face above her. At the top of the steps, I pause outside her door, considering whether I should ask her where she’d rather sleep.

  But the Dom in me wins out and I make the decision for her, carrying her to my big bed and slipping us beneath the covers.

  Chapter 9

  Doc

  “You sure you want to go to the gym today? You could barely get out of bed you were so sore,” I ask from the kitchen island, surprised when Astrid comes downstairs the next morning in workout clothes.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Your full-body massage worked wonders, thank you very much,” she replies, and my semi-erection goes full-staff at the memory of her relaxing beneath my hands when we woke up. “Sixty-six days to make it an automatic response, right? I’ll just take it easy, maybe just some treadmill time or something.”

  “All right, just let me get changed and we’ll go,” I tell her, and she waves me off.

  “No, no. You said today is your recovery day. You don’t have to mess up your routine. Let me go all this week, and then I’ll take my recovery day on your next one. That way we can match up,” she offers, and I concede, loving that she’s finding her voice and seems motivated for the gym.

  “Do you want me to take you, or do you want the keys to the Audi?” She doesn’t drive very often, but when she does, she likes the car instead of one of my bigger vehicles. She took my truck once last year, when she snuck out of my house to go to her apartment, the night of our first kiss, and she said it was terrifying to park that beast.

  “I’ll… take… the Audi, I guess,” she answers, stunted, as if she hadn’t thought that far ahead. And then she clears her throat, looking like she’s summoning her courage. “Um… Neil?”

  “Yes, goddess?” I put down the notepad I was reading patient notes from and give her my full attention.

  “You know those boxes of mine in the garage? The ones I said I didn’t really need at the moment when I was unpacking my stuff after Twyla and I canceled our lease?”

  I nod. “I do.”

  She fidgets with her ponytail, looking above my head instead of meeting my eyes. “Would um… if you have time and it’s not too much trouble…”

  She pauses, and I know she’s wanting me to fill in the blank and reply to her unspoken request, but I don’t give in. And when she sees I’m not going to, she lets out a little huff and releases her hair.

  “Would you please bring in my other boxes? They’re really heavy, since they’re full of my books. And since you’re all manly and muscly, I’d really appreciate it if you brought them in for me,” she finishes, pulling her purse up higher on her shoulder.

  I stand up from my seat at the island and make my way over to her slowly, going for what I think looks like a leisurely stroll but by the heated look in her eyes while she watches my body as I near, it must come off like a prowl. When I’m right in front of her, her eyes lift from my bare chest to my eyes, and she swallows audibly.

  “No problem, goddess. Is there anywhere in particular you’d like me to put them?”

  “Uhh…” She blinks. “I really hadn’t thought that far.”

  My hand comes up to cup her jaw, my thumb skimming over her smooth and makeup-free cheek. “I have plenty of open shelves in my study. I could move some things around and give you your own couple of bookcases if you’d like.”

  Her eyes go wide. “R-Really? You don’t mind my trashy novels sitting next to your psychology books? It’s all so like… pretty and coordinated in there, with all the leather-bound texts and masculine… everything. It’s going to look funny with all my colorful spines and shirtless men on the covers.”

  I chuckle. “I mean, what could be more masculine than shirtless men?”

  She looks at me in awe, but then she blinks and smiles, her whole face lighting up. “That would be amazing.” And then that litt
le wicked look from yesterday fills her eyes. “Thank you, Viking.”

  I groan at the new name she’s given me that she uses whenever I use my height and strength to help her. She called me that earlier this morning when she couldn’t open the new jar of jelly for her biscuit, and I nearly dropped it, even after she called me that yesterday a couple of times. It was going to take some getting used to. No one else had ever bothered to call me anything but Doc since I was a teenager, even at the club.

  I lean down and kiss her smiling lips, pulling the keys off the hook by the door next to us and placing them in her hand.

  “Be careful. Text me when you get there and when you’re on your way home,” I demand, and she rolls her eyes.

  “It’s like, five minutes away.”

  I just lift a brow and look at her sternly.

  She scoffs. “Fine, Dad.”

  With that, she turns toward the door, and I reach ahead of her to pull it open, and without thinking about it, I swat her on the ass when she starts through the door.

  She stiffens immediately, and all I can do is shut my eyes, leaning to place my forehead on my knuckles where they grip the wood of the door. I want to kick myself, calling myself every fucking name in the book for not thinking about my actions, feeling too comfortable and not considering the scars I discovered yesterday in the shower.

  But then I feel her hand, light on my cheek, and she strokes her thumb down my beard until I open and meet her eyes. She looks up at me, her face soft, clearly having seen my regret the moment it happened.

  “I’m all right, Viking,” she whispers. “I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

  I nod, the knot in my gut loosening, and I take her kiss when she stands up on her tiptoes to place her lips on mine.

  “I’ll text you when I get there.” She smiles.

  “And on your way home,” I add.

  And instead of arguing, she just nods. “And on my way… home.”