I moan one last time, my entire body shaking in the process. “Oh. My. God.” Smashing my cheek into the mattress, I lean my head to the side, out of breath.
I expect him to fuck me, but instead, he smacks me on the ass, hitting me hard enough to leave a mark. But it feels good, and I want him to do it again. Sloan leans over me to twist my hair in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. “Thank you for dinner, Ava. Your pussy was exactly what I wanted to eat.”
I have no idea what to say, but I lay there, confused. Then, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and fixes the bulge in his pants.
He’s hard, so why doesn’t he want to fuck me?
“Get up,” he orders, giving me a look that could cut through glass. “Go get ready. I’m taking you somewhere.”
“Umm…okay.” My voice is shaky when I speak. “Where are we going?”
He presses his mouth to mine, the taste of my juices still on his lips. “Now, if I tell you that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”
With both of his hands gripping my shoulders, he holds me in place, making my head spin when he kisses me. His tongue tangles with mine, the passion behind each kiss so overwhelming. When our mouths finally separate, I have trouble catching my breath. In awe of this man, I am speechless of the power his kiss has over me. And once he takes a step back and locks eyes with me, he leaves me wanting more.
“Ava,” he says, snapping me out of the trance he has me under, summoning me back to reality.
“Yes.” My voice is a whisper in the silent room.
“I wasn’t joking. I bought you something to wear. It’s in the living room. Now, go get dressed.”
I nod and follow him into the hallway without another word. My body tingles at the thought of our plans.
Chapter Seventeen
AVA
For most of our drive through the city, Sloan held his hand over mine on my thigh, neither of us speaking to one another. It was nice to sit next to someone without feeling the need to use words to communicate. But he has yet to explain why he bought me a black knee-length dress that has cap sleeves and beautiful chiffon overlay. Paired with the heels I wore to meet him in the on-call room, the outfit looks complete, but too fancy for dinner.
I give his hand a squeeze to grab his attention. “Where are you taking me? The suspense is killing me.”
He turns his head, giving me one of his sexy smirks that melt the panties right off my body. “I told you before we left that it’s a surprise.”
“Can I get a hint?”
“It’s work-related. How about that?”
I glance down at my dress, all of a sudden feeling too dressed up to attend a work function in this outfit.
“You look beautiful,” he says, noticing my confusion. “All eyes will be on you but for the right reasons.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you insane? Take me to my place. We can’t be seen together. Not with our colleagues around.”
“It’s not what you think, Ava. Just chill out and let me surprise you without flipping out. Okay? Can you do that for me?”
I nod. “I suppose I can do that.”
“Do you really think I would take you somewhere that would directly impact both of our careers? I like you, but I’m not a masochist. I worked my ass off to pay my way through medical school and to get where I am today. Don’t take this the wrong way, but no sex in the world is worth ruining my career over. So, believe me when I say that tonight is not about us. This is a good surprise. Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation, which sounds strange on the tip of my tongue. “I think so.”
How can I trust a man I have known for less than a month? Somehow, I do. When I’m with Sloan, he makes me feel secure in my own skin, something I hadn’t experienced before him. I was too busy with school or working to consider a relationship. Is that what I want with Sloan? The closer we get, the more I think our hookups in the on-call room could turn into more. Maybe. But our careers will always come first.
Sloan parks the car in front of an upscale restaurant illuminated by a red-and-white sign that reads Dolce. A long black-and-red awning hangs over the entryway guarded by two men in suits. I’d heard of this restaurant in the Philadelphia Inquirer. They were raving about the truffles flown in from Italy and the bar that boasts a menu of top-shelf liquors worth hundreds of dollars per shot. At least my attire fits the occasion.
A man steps out from behind the valet stand at the curb and opens my door. “Welcome to Dolce,” he says, extending his hand to help me out of the car.
He holds my hand until my feet land on the curb, at which point Sloan takes over for him. Feeling unsure about holding hands in public, I unhook my fingers from his and give us some space. We need it. My heart speeds up from his touch, the loss of his heat creating a hunger inside me. While my mind says one thing, my body does another. Traitor.
“Don’t forget to breathe,” Sloan tells me. “You look like a corpse right now. I’m not into necrophilia.”
I laugh and elbow him in the side. “Jerk. I’m nervous. Why wouldn’t I be? You are being so damn cryptic. I’m on edge, dying to know what we are doing here.”
He smiles in response. “Be patient, beautiful.”
We step inside, and the scents of garlic and herbs assault my senses. It smells so amazing. I can practically taste it on my tongue. The space is deceptively large with a second floor that overlooks an open kitchen you can see into from every angle. The walls are brick, and the floor is a dark shade of bamboo that shines in the dim light. In the far corner, there’s a wine bar made of casks, set up for tastings. The place is simple yet elegant, giving off a homey Italian vibe.
Behind the host desk, a young woman with long dark hair greets us with a wide grin. She welcomes us to Dolce, eyeing up Sloan as if I am not standing next to him.
“We’re here for the donors event,” Sloan says to her.
I peek up at him, still confused, wondering why the hell we are going to a donors party. Blood donors? Organ donors? What the hell are we doing here?
She escorts us through the dining area to a private room in the back, checking out Sloan over her shoulder as she makes polite conversation with us. French doors open to an impressive space with leather couches built into the walls and dinner tables placed throughout the room, with fresh flowers and lit candles on all the tabletops. On our right is a long wooden bar that ends at the entrance to the kitchen.
Packed with men and women in formal wear, from the bar to the couches, I can hardly see a foot in front of me. Some of the people in the private dining room look somewhat familiar, though I can’t quite place their faces. Not until someone calls Sloan Dr. Hart does it dawn on my why I know some of them. It’s a donor party, as in rich men who give money to the hospital to create new wings and fund some of our projects.
Why am I here? Now, I’m even more confused.
I tug on Sloan’s suit jacket to get his attention. “Explain,” I whisper to him.
He dips down to my height. The heat from his breath on the back of my neck sends chills down my spine. “The chief told me to pick a first-year resident to bring to the party, and since your father is one of the donors being honored, I thought you would like to see him.”
My mouth widens in surprise when I follow Sloan’s finger to find my father at the other end of it. Across the room, dressed in one of his signature Ralph Lauren suits, Dr. Lawrence Roberts looks like a million bucks. Whether it’s his scrubs and lab coat or a tailored suit, my father exudes confidence and wealth. A brilliant man, one who comes from a long line of successful doctors, raised me to walk in his shoes. Cardio is where he thinks I belong. I still have no idea where I fit.
With Sloan at my side, I stroll over to meet my dad, who has a group of men hovering around him, hanging on to his every word. He has the kind of magnetism I saw in Sloan from the start. People are drawn to men like my father and Sloan. It’s not just their good looks or killer charm. No, they i
mpress with their minds, a quality I love most about each of them.
My dad’s face lights up when he locks eyes with me. “Excuse me,” he says to the men next to him and makes his way toward me. He kisses me on each cheek as he pulls me into his arms. “Darling, I had no idea you would be here.”
I kiss him back and laugh. “Well, I guess that makes two of us. I had no idea I was coming here until an hour ago.”
He smiles, holding me at arm’s length. “You were chosen as the first-year resident. I’m happy to hear it. Of course you were. Anyone who knows their ass from a hole in the ground knows the Roberts name means something in this town.”
Sloan holds out his hand for my father to shake. “Dr. Roberts, nice to see you again.”
“Ahh, Dr. Hart, I see you have good taste. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree with my daughter. I can assure you she will be the best in her residency class.”
“She already is,” Sloan confesses. “Ava helped me with a exploratory laparotomy on her first day. She’s a very gifted doctor. I have no doubt that some day she will become one of our top surgeons at Penn General.”
“Glad to hear it,” my dad says with pride. “Pretty soon Ava will be assisting me with triple bypass surgeries. From there, the sky’s the limit.”
“Dad, I haven’t picked a specialty yet,” I remind him because he seems to need one all the time.
“Cardio is in your blood. You know what they say, the heart wants what the heart wants. You will see for yourself soon enough.”
My father loves to make his usual lame jokes about the heart. At least he’s not a dentist. I would have to hear stupid jokes about plaque. Well, I still hear his plaque jokes, except he’s referring to the kind that builds up in your arteries.
“General surgery is just as good,” Sloan says to my dad. “It provides a surgeon with more opportunities to expand their horizon.”
In typical Lawrence Roberts fashion, he flashes a smile that I know is forced and pats Sloan on the arm. “Of course. It’s just as admirable. But my Ava will follow in my footsteps. I know she will make the right choice.”
Translation—nothing is better than cardiothoracic surgery. I have no choice. My father made it for me when I was a child. In fact, he probably made it for me before I was even born. The Cardiology wing at Penn General is named for my great grandfather, Wellington Roberts III. So, when my father says I was born into cardio, he’s not kidding.
As much as I try to deny him, even I know that cardio is very much in my blood. That doesn’t mean I can’t give him a hard time in the process. My mother was my father’s nurse anesthetist. Much like Sloan and me, they met at the hospital where my father began his residency. Even my mom convinces me on a weekly basis to choose what I already know will be my endgame.
“There is no right or wrong choice,” Sloan says to my father, holding his ground.
Dad goes rigid from his comment. But only someone who knows him as well as I do would notice the slight change in his stance, the way he carefully bites his tongue. “I suppose that is true.”
As always, my dear old dad shoots back with a politician’s response. I have no doubt I will hear an earful about Sloan tomorrow. I like Sloan more than I already did for challenging my dad—because no one ever voices their opinion with him. Other than me.
“I have to make my rounds,” my dad says to me, now ignoring Sloan’s gaze. He’s pissed, as I knew he would be the minute Sloan opened his mouth. “Make sure you mingle, Ava. One day one of these men could be funding your passion project. Make a good impression.”
I give him a closed-mouth smile and nod.
My dad tips his head at Sloan. “Dr. Hart. A pleasure, as always.”
Translation: He doesn’t like Sloan. Well, fuck me. If my dad doesn’t approve of Sloan, he sure as hell won’t like the fact that I am sort of dating him. Sloan is the director of my residency program, which is no small feat. It takes years of training and skill to hold such a coveted position at a teaching hospital such as Penn General.
Sloan bends down to whisper into my ear. “I forgot to mention that your dad doesn’t like me. Oops!”
I laugh at his words and almost lean back and into his chest, before realizing I cannot show any form of affection for him in front of our peers. “That’s because you challenge him.” I turn to face him and lower my voice. “You have no idea how much that turned me on. I love that you don’t give a shit what people think about you. It’s sexy.”
“What’s sexy is you in this fucking dress. I can’t wait to take it off you.”
I cover my mouth and laugh, the blush from my cheeks creeping down to my chest. “Now that you mention it, I read in the Philadelphia Inquirer that Dolce has super fancy bathrooms. Wanna go see if they were right?”
He shakes his head, a smile on his lips. “How about I introduce you to some of the men who can help you throughout your career. Then, I’d be more than happy to bend you over the sink and fuck your tight pussy.”
Afraid someone can hear us, I glance over each shoulder, relieved when I find there’s enough distance between the people moving past us throughout the room and us.
I brush my fingers against his, even though I want to give his hand a squeeze. At least for now, just feeling his warmth is enough for me. “Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, Dr. Hart.”
He extends his arm, telling me to go ahead of him. “After you, Dr. Roberts.”
Best. Night. Ever.
Chapter Eighteen
SLOAN
I have no idea what I am doing right now. Ever since I choked that bastard in the on-call room last month, my relationship with Ava has progressed into something more. I have no idea how to classify what we are doing together. This is all new for me. The last time I took a woman on an actual date was back in medical school. Now, I’m sitting in the parking garage with Ava, wondering if this is a good idea. Somehow, I am at ease when Ava is around, a level of comfort I have not felt in years.
I reach across the center console to touch her face and brush a strand of loose hair behind her ear. Ava is so gorgeous and innocent. Too bad I have ruined her, turned her into my little whore. But she’s become so much more to me. The sex is only a perk of our relationship.
She turns to look at me, nervous and biting down on her bottom lip.
I lean in closer and breathe against her lips. “What are you doing to me, woman? I never thought much of relationships until I met you.”
“It’s been close to two months since we met. I never thought you would be anything to me other than a one-night stand. This terrifies me. I thought surgery would, but I was wrong because you scare me to death.”
“You have no reason to be afraid.” I flash a wicked smile, rubbing her chin with my thumb. “I will take care of you.”
She covers my hand with hers and kisses my skin, sending chills down my spine. “I want you, Sloan, but what if we get caught and lose our jobs?”
“You leave the worrying to me, okay?”
She slides her hand onto my thigh and gives it a squeeze. “It’s hard not to worry. I love working at the hospital. We have both busted our asses to get to where we are in our careers. I don’t want to see you lose your job and me get thrown out of the residency program. My dad would kill me. Everything I have worked so hard to achieve would all have been for nothing.”
“We can make this work,” I say to reassure her, even though I am not convinced this won’t end badly for both of us. “I want you in my life as more than just a girl I meet in the on-call room. This is not just about sex for me. Not anymore. It hasn’t been for a while now.”
“Me either,” she whispers against my hand. “I really like you, Sloan. Hell, I more than like you. This was supposed to be a one-night stand, but our relationship has become so much more to me. I don’t want to lose you over something as stupid as hospital rules.”
“And you won’t,” I say against her lips.
She shudders from my breath and leans in
to give me a quick kiss. “I am starting to care about you, Sloan. You’re more than just my boss and my lover.”
“I only have one more month as the residency director and your teacher. It will all work itself out. Give it time. No one knows about us but Dr. Carlyle, right?”
She nods. “Just Stacey. She would never tell anyone.” Ava sinks into the leather and bites her cheek. “What if this doesn’t work out between us? Aren’t you afraid of what will happen?”
“I have no idea what will happen next week, let alone a month from now. Let’s take this one day at a time. I’d like to start with dinners, maybe a movie, if you want.”
She takes my hand in hers and squeezes. “I’ve seen doctors and nurses lose their jobs over what we are doing. The on-call room is supposed to be for breaks and sleeping—not for sex.”
“We’ll have to stop having sex at the hospital and save it for when we’re at my place.”
“What about my apartment?”
I take a second to contemplate her question.
“It’s one thing for Dr. Carlyle to know we are together, but it’s another for her to be on the other side of the wall when I’m fucking you.”
She leans over the shifter to rub my inner thigh. “Good point.”
Grabbing her hand, I hold it over my growing erection. She studies my face with those big, blue eyes that place me under her spell.
“I need your help with this,” I say, rubbing her hand over my cock.
She nods, smiling with her eyes.
I unzip my pants and fist my cock in my hand. Ava’s mouth widens.
“I want your lips wrapped around my cock.”
She does as I command, and like a good girl, she listens. Now, she’s all mine. I thread my fingers through her hair as she sucks me off, taking me to that point of ecstasy.
The Match Page 10
