by Boone, Azure
Dedication
To my husband who works so hard for the family. Thank you. We love you.
Acknowledgment
I’d like to thank my good friends Amee and Diana for their daily help and inspiration during the creation of Broken Desires, and all the other friends I have made in my secret book club. I appreciate your help and support more than you know.
Cover Art
Azure Boone
Author's Notes:
This book contains explicit scenes of sexual activity between a couple committed to exclusive, monogamous relationships.
Copyright Azure Boone 2013
Chapter One
Sofia pressed down on her legs, stilling the tremble threatening to overtake her entire body. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Such a stupid game their little private Facebook group played every year.
They’d gotten Sofia good this year. But that’s what she got for running her mouth about the hot gynecologist she had a secret crush on. And what were the odds that her best friend Dara would pull her name. They probably fixed the drawing. And lo and behold, she’d dared her to shave her vagina and make an appointment with the dude! You think he likes you, you like him, make an appointment, see what happens.
Insane. Nobody got dates with a man who made a living mining vaginas. Jesus, this was nuts. Didn’t matter now, this wasn’t about getting a date anymore, this was about surviving what she started. She was all big talk in the group, no way was she backing down, she’d never hear the end of it.
As it was, she’d lied about his side of the infatuation; the man didn’t know she existed. He merely shopped at the same supermarket as she did, at the same times. He had eyes only for the produce and the way he handled the veggies would make any woman envious. The supposed eye contacts, the shared smiles—all harmless little white lies. How pathetic she was.
The only thing that wasn’t a lie was her need for a checkup. She was way way behind.
“Miss Parsons?”
Sofia’s heart lodged in her throat as she leapt up from her chair.
The petite blond nurse smiled as Sofia went through the door. “The bathroom first, I need a urine sample. Cups are on the table in there with markers. Just write your name on the cup and bring it to the counter.” She pointed behind her. “After that, we’ll weigh you and take your blood pressure, okay?”
“Okay.” Sofia smiled and hurried to the bathroom. Despite telling herself this was only about the checkup now, the second she was inside, she did a panic makeup and hair check. Then did the disgusting urine thing, cleaning her bottom with the antiseptic wipes before and after. She’d bathed like she was meeting with the Pharaoh of Egypt, shaved all her parts baby smooth as directed. She’d damn near patted glittery powder down there then worried he’d think Vegas Vagina instead of Fairy Princess.
She mashed her lips together for an even blend of color then walked out with her nearly full cup of golden liquor. She froze in panic at seeing the doctor five feet before her, speaking with a nurse. Shit. She spun around and urine sloshed out of the cup, onto her hand.
“Miss Parsons?” the nurse called.
“Um, coming.” Sofia glanced over her shoulder, trying to figure out where the hell to wipe the urine. She headed back in the bathroom and cleaned herself off then carefully entered the little gyno freeway of activity. Jesus, the space was too damn condensed.
About five minutes later, Sofia sat her naked ass on the crinkly paper covered table, holding the gown shut at her back with one hand, while inspecting her perfectly painted toenails. Dr. Fletcher. Daniel Fletcher. Not Daniel, just Dr. Fletcher. You will behave professionally. No small talk unless he prompts. And if he does, no chattering on and on. And especially no sexual cracks. Keep all questions…gynelogical. Gynelogical? Was that a word? Could be. But better not use it.
Sofia jumped when the door opened and that hunk walked in. Shit, he was bigger up close. Brad Pit bone structure with Tom Cruise’s eye and hair color. Sweet baby Jesus.
“Miss Sofia?”
Add orgasmic voice to that. Nice and silky. Deep. “Yes, that’s…that’s me.” She cleared her throat, only it brought up a bucket load of phlegm that caught in her windpipe and set her on an esophagus clearing marathon.
“You okay?” he asked, when the minor clearing turned to coughing.
She held her hand up, turning her head away while nodding.
“Do you need to get some water?”
She shook her head, hacking, and then oh hell, her gagging reflex kicked in. This can’t be happening. Before she realized, the good doc presented a cup of water to her. She took it and gulped the entire thing down, finally able to breathe air.
“Jesus. I’m-I’m fine.” Her voice wheezed like a cancer patient with only half a lung and ten minutes till death. “Sorry. Went down the wrong pipe.”
“It’s okay.” He sat in a chair three feet before her and she finally chanced a look at him while wiping…oh shit…black tears from her face. Then she noticed the perplexity in his brow. “Don’t…don’t I know you?”
She pointed at herself. “Me? Oh no, I mean, no, I don’t think you do. I don’t know you, that’s for sure. I think I’d remember a face like yours.” Ohhhh crap, really?
He lowered his face but not before she caught his grin. Well, this was fantastically humiliating. He took up his clip board. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’m ready if you are.”
“Oh yeah, sure. I’m ready.”
“Before we do your physical exam, are there any problems you’re having that you’d like to discuss?”
“Oh, right. Ummm…” she looked up at the ceiling. “Period seems to be fine. Uh.” She looked at her hands in her lap. The idea to talk about sex presented itself and before she could think too long about it, she dove right in. “I’m not really sure if this is a physical problem or not but…” she chewed her lip. “It’s…sexual.”
“Okay.” His voice was nonchalant as he sat there all relaxed looking.
She began scraping her nail polish off. “I seem to have a problem um…you know. With the pleasure parts.”
“How so?”
God, she was really doing this. No way could she look at him. “Maybe it’s not a problem, maybe it’s a myth, I’ve heard it was. From some women.”
“Ah,” he said. “Are you referring to the G-spot?”
She met his gaze then snapped it back to her lap. “Yes. That.”
“It does exist, but it’s not always the same for every woman.”
“It does?” She forced her gaze to his, straining to match his indifference. “Where? I mean, where is this fantastic place?”
“I can show you in the exam, if you like.”
Demonic butterflies hacksawed her guts. He’d show her? “Okay.”
“Any other problems?”
“Well, since I’ve gone this far, might as well finish. Okay, so, you know how you’re supposed to be able to orgasm from the G-spot and that other place?”
“The clitoris.” More casual, borderline monotony in his tone. Like he’d said the elbow.
“Yes. That.”
“You’re having problems with climaxing from the clitoris?”
She cleared her throat. “Well...yeah.”
“Do you have a significant other?”
“Um, no. I don’t.” Oh my frikn God, he’ll know I masturbate!
“So, you’re having problems when you masturbate?”
Her face went up in flames.
“Look, don’t be embarrassed, this is all entirely natural and normal.”
And boring if she went by his tone. She gasped a light laugh. “Good to hear it. Sure isn’t easy for me.”
“So w
hat’s the problem?”
Shit, shit, shit. What was the problem? It was all true what she’d said, she just never dreamed she’d be having this conversation with him. No rehearsed lines. “Well, I don’t know, honestly. I just can’t…cross the finish line if you know what I mean.”
“How long do you try?”
“Um, well. I don’t really use a timer, so--”
He chuckled. “Ten minutes? Fifteen? Thirty?”
She looked up at the ceiling and took a huge breath. “Maybe…thirty.” She nodded as casual as she could.
“Do you use any aids? Vibrators, dildos?”
She suddenly wanted out of this conversation, out of his office, and off of planet earth. There was nothing but business in his tone, and frankly, it felt like none of his. “None, zero,” she lied. “Maybe I should try? Yes, that’s a good idea. Anyway, that’s about it. What’s next?”
He regarded her with eyes that knew. Knew she was lying but thought that normal too and so graciously let it ride. He stood and opened the door. “Susan?” He turned back to me. “Next is your external exam, I’ll be checking your breasts and vulva, then we’ll get you in the stirrups for the pelvic exam. And then we’re done.”
My vulva? “Oookay.” This was such a stupid idea. She needed to stop this before they got on the vagina coaster to hell. The man was not interested in her, this much was clear. Not physically, anyway. She was a hound when it came to the opposite sexual attraction, and he was a flat-liner, a dud, a bad egg. And well, she’d technically done as dared. They didn’t say she had to finish the exam.
The nurse came in with a pleasant smile and shut the door. Great, nurse voyeur 101. Fuck that. Sofia put her hands over her face and moaned.
“Are you okay?” the good doc asked.
She shook her head. “No, I’m not. Dizzy. Need to eat. My sugars…” She slid off the table and went in reverse toward the bamboo accordion divider behind her. “I’ll have to reschedule, I’m so sorry. I need to go take my medicine. Stupid me, I forgot, I’ve been stressed lately.”
“Are you sure? Can you drive okay?” he asked.
“Yes, yes, my meds are in my car, I’ll be fine.”
“Well, would you like to come back up after you—”
“No, no. I can’t,” she said from behind the makeshift wall. “I’ll have to call and reschedule, I’m so sorry, of course I’ll pay for the visit, for wasting your time.”
“Alright then. Call the office as soon as possible, it’s not good to neglect these checkups.”
“Absolutely, I will.” First thing next millennium, doc.
****
Daniel was still grinning several hours after Sofia left. She’d chickened out. Had she actually faked a diabetes episode? Forgotten the nurse inquired about that when filling out her health history? No doubt.
She was undeniably original. I don’t use a timer. Damn if that wasn’t…precious. Had he seen her some place before? The way she’d blushed at all the sexual references wasn’t a good sign. She wasn’t a virgin physically, but in every other aspect? Definitely. He wasn’t convinced that was a deal breaker, though. His women had to be mature and experienced sexually, and not afraid of bondage. But since she had opened up about her pleasure parts issues, he kept her in the game. It was a positive but hardly a slam dunk.
He’d have to play this wild card by ear.
Daniel left work, a little relieved that he was finally past the guilt hump that came with using his profession as the staple source of his pleasure addiction. He only wished he could escape the self-disgust of being just like the biological sack of bones he hated. No, not just like; Daniel had made sure to create as many differences between him and his father as he could. Beginning with quality control. Daniel was upper class, and the piece of shit that called him son was gutter matter. Where his father was a dirty slut, he was a sophisticated one. Where he was sloppy with his sins, Daniel was neat and orderly. Where he gave himself entirely to his filthy cock’s needs, Daniel practiced restraint.
Maintaining such pathetic ethics in Daniel’s debaucheries was his only consolation, oxymoronic as it was. He chose single, experienced and willing women only. He didn’t penetrate them, they didn’t touch him and he never kissed them. Not that he could kiss if he wanted to without being mind-fucked by memories of his childhood.
Daddy had liked his kink.
For Daniel, it was all about his female’s pleasures, denying his own physical needs. It was the best form of pain management he could find; the more he needed sex, the better he felt in that dirty part of him that demanded he be punished. In an odd sense, though he’d fallen prey to the pleasure demons his father had fucked into him, not being subject to the same pleasures meant he was different. Stronger. Not a victim.
It may have been a strange kink, but he’d only needed it twice the previous year and that was a major victory. His goal was zero times a life. Because no matter how clean he pretended it was, or how smart, he was sick of it all, it all disgusted him.
Until that freedom came, there was Miss Sofia. He hoped she rescheduled soon. Ever since he got that phone call from his father about his precious mutt dog dying, the urges to self-harm had resurrected. Whether his father ever knew it or not, Daniel would never give him the pleasure or satisfaction to hurt himself that way anymore. Never that way.
Chapter Two
Sofia practically ran through Karl’s Superstore after work the next day. No more looking for Mr. Perfect in the produce section, not after that horrid episode in gyno hell. She used to think how very fortunate she was that they somehow shopped at the same time, same place. Not anymore. She pushed her giant shades tighter to her face with her middle finger and flew through the freezer section, covertly throwing frozen shit into her cart without hardly looking. Just so it was edible and she made it out without running into him. Should’ve just drove the extra fifteen miles to avoid this trauma waiting to happen.
For the fiftieth time, she wondered what on earth the man thought about her. Thank God he hadn’t seen her coochie. What was she thinking? As a mocking reminder, the pubic hair growing back, snagged against her silk panties. The itch tormented her until she walked like she had the Palsy in her effort to relieve it. That’s what she got for shaving the stupid thing bald. Her panties were like Velcro against her skin, and my God, did she need to scratch!
Screw this crap. She zoomed her buggy across the aisle into the men’s clothing section and hid behind a rack of shirts. Yanking a garment off the rack, she looked at it while shoving her hand in her pants and glancing around. Shudders racked her body as she raked her nails ruthlessly across the stubble. Razor-fucking-rash of the century! She whimpered at how damn good it felt. Jesus, yes.
“Hey there.”
Sofia screamed, yanked her hand from her pants and spun around. “Oh my God.” You! Not you! Not you!
“I knew I recognized you. I’ve seen you here before.”
“Oh yeah. What a coincidence, such a small world.” She blindly shoved the shirt back on the rack, smiling, praying to God he hadn’t seen her clawing at her vulva.
“You’re feeling okay?”
Her eyes went wide, then she remembered. “Oh yes. Episode passed after I took my medicine.
“Good.” He angled his head, looking in her basket then pushed his buggy closer to hers. And inspected the items in her cart! Really?
“Not a very health conscious person, I see. Fresh is the best way to go, you know.”
The unexpected words threw her for a loop. A slightly disturbed, confused, and angry loop. She glanced in her buggy. “Yeah, I usually do buy fresh, I was…in a hurry. This isn’t even for me, actually.” Okay, why the hell did she feel compelled to lie around this dude?
“Well that’s good. A healthy body is important.”
Sofia regarded him then leaned and peered in his buggy for several long seconds. “All organic, I see.”
He followed her gaze. “Definitely and always.”
&
nbsp; Damn his voice was sexy. “You cook for the wife?” Sofia smiled innocently right at him, suddenly feeling the need to pry. She knew he wasn’t, but a lil’ bit of payment for his unbidden not a very health conscious person remark.
“God no, I’m not married.” Like that was a plague.
“Oh, I see. For the kids then?”
If having a wife seemed like the plague, having kids was The Plague. “Hell no. I cook for myself.”
“Yourself, wow, good. Not many people care that much about themselves.”
He chuckled, holding her burning gaze. Burning from the strain of not roaming to inappropriate parts. He sure didn’t seem to have a problem with that kind of thing. “I believe in taking care of my body.”
Sofia’s mind interpreted that as an invitation and her gaze inspected his claims. She nodded. “You seem to be doing well with that.” Okay, no way was she meeting his gaze after that remark. “I’m a dessert lover myself. I love sweets.”
Where the hell did that come from? Had to be little miss different. Before she could regret it, she noticed his face slow-morphed to disappointment with a hint of disgust.
“Sweets are responsible for more deaths than alcohol and tobacco. Should be out lawed.”
His last ludicrous and dismissive statement irked her. “I don’t live on sweets. But I do love them. My father is a baker.”
Is? Don’t you mean was?
“Ah, I see.” Like that explained the flaw.
Okay motherfucker. “Have you always been a health freak?” Her smile went sugary.
He regarded her for a moment, his gaze dropping to her mouth then down. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“I’ll be sure and bring you some of my special desserts.”
“Oh please, don’t. It’d be wasted if you did, I don’t do desserts.”
“I bet the women at your office do.”
“Speaking of that, did you remember to reschedule?”
Moving right along to the topic of her vagina now. “Not yet, planned to do that today.”
“You don’t want to neglect it. Especially with that kind of diet and condition. I imagine you battle yeast infections often.”
