by Logan Chance
He pushes deeper, and ah, it’s so hard, so very big, and so unmistakably real.
And when I think it couldn’t feel any better, he moves his chiseled hips, and thrusts. “God, Rose, fuck…” he whispers.
Lost in the exquisite torture, I dig my nails into his back and he groans loudly, kissing the column of my throat, and nipping his teeth along my collarbone.
This is no ordinary fuck, this is fate.
Our bodies slide together and he lifts my hips, going deeper.
I want to live in the moment with him right now, relishing the sensations he’s causing through my body. I want to take everything he’s giving and give it back. Make it count. I want to be dirty. I slide my leg onto his shoulder and reach down to fondle his balls.
His moan is my reward. “Rose, fuck.”
I love the way he says my name. The way he breathes it. Owns it.
He rolls his hips, reaching a spot deep within me I didn’t know existed. All I know is I am now ruined. When he leaves, I will spend the rest of my life trying to recreate this magic and failing.
“You feel me there, Rose?” God the look on his face. “I’m marking what’s mine.”
“Declan,” I murmur, unable to hold on much longer, “don’t stop.”
“I can’t stop.”
And I don’t want him to. I don’t want him to leave. Just like that I’m falling for this man. So hard I’m going to shatter.
He braces his arm on the bed and I turn my head to lick the quivering muscle in his forearm. His dick stretches me and I feel it coming, starting low in my belly, building with each stroke until an intense orgasm rushes through me, exploding through every cell in my body, running to the ends of my toes, curling through my fingers.
His eyes capture mine, and the emotion coursing through me makes me bite my lower lip to keep control of myself.
He runs his hand through my hair. “Rose, I got you.” And then he kisses my lips, his tongue dancing along mine in a tango of sweet desire. “I got you, Baby.”
And he does, his body holding mine in place, as he pumps inside me. I raise my hands, cupping his cheeks, staring into his eyes. “Don’t let go.”
He shakes his head, closing his eyes as he thrusts a few more times. He groans my name out, as his body tenses, shuddering with his orgasm.
We try to catch our breath. Declan’s still inside me, and I almost don’t want to break this magical spell. I know once it’s all over, we go back to boss/employee. Therapist/client. Friend/friend.
And I don’t think I want that anymore.
He kisses my forehead and moves off me before heading into the adjoining bathroom to clean up. When he returns, neither of us say a word as he crawls into bed behind me, pulling the covers around us like a cocoon. He wraps me into him, spooning our bodies together.
“I like this,” he says.
“Me too.”
How do I ask him to stay? Do I even want him to?
I do.
More than anything.
His fingers trace along my back, and an uneasiness settles over me, wondering if he’s waiting for just the right moment to dash out the door and never look back.
“If you have somewhere you need to go…” my words trail off when he turns me to face him.
His green eyes blaze right through me. “I’m not going anywhere.” Then the sheepish grin appears. “If that’s ok with you.”
“Do you normally stay?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
He props up on an elbow, tucking a stray strand of my hair behind my ear with the other hand. “I’m not going to lie to you, Rose. I usually don’t stay long.”
“Why not?”
He doesn’t answer right away, his eyes drifting around the room like he doesn’t quite know how to word what he’s trying to tell me. “Let’s just say I’ve never cared enough to stick around.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Sure it’s the tired old story, playboy runs around on women, having one-night stand after one-night stand, but at least he’s being honest. “Declan,” I start, unsure of how to word exactly what I want to say.
“What is it?” He continues to strum his fingers through my hair.
“You always told me to tell any man I’m with what I want.”
“What do you want?”
You. I want to scream, but instead, because I know he’s leaving soon, I try to hold onto him a bit longer. “I want to spend as much time with you as possible before you leave.” He doesn’t say anything. “Like a no-strings kind of thing,” I quickly add.
He leans into where his lips are a mere millimeter away from mine. “I can do that for you.”
And just like that the sense of his job in New York looms off in the distance, but I close my eyes trying to pretend to myself that it isn’t real. That he won’t really leave.
He kisses me, and his hands travel through my hair. And then, we’re touching and grabbing each other all over again, and this time I know I won’t have to say goodbye any time soon.
23
Declan
Becoming a doctor takes a great amount of schooling, and in that time many things will be learned and experienced, but you can still never predict the final outcome.
Right before I fall asleep with Rose tucked safely into the crook of my arm, I think about her words, ‘no-strings’ and shake my head.
Oh, there’ll be strings all right, if I have anything to say about it.
The next morning, I yawn and stretch, rolling over in bed to find the spot next to me empty. “Rose?” I sit up, rubbing away the sleep from my eyes.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she says, standing in her robe by the bedroom door.
She smiles that radiant smile of hers, and I know she’s talking about today and not New York. “I don’t want to.” And I’m being fucking honest here. I hold my arms out, swatting the side of the bed next to me.
She bounds on the bed, wrapping her arms around me, and I curl her into my chest. “Hungry?”
She gazes up at me as soon as I release my hold on her. “What did you have in mind?”
“Get dressed.” I smack her playfully on the ass. “You’ll see.”
After I run out to grab my bags I brought straight from the airport, I dress in jeans and a black tee.
Rose steps out of her bathroom. “I’m ready.”
“You look amazing.”
She looks down at her denim shorts, white t-shirt with a giant pair of lips on it, and pink sneakers. “Thanks,” she smiles, giving me a little pose, “this is my Target wear.”
“I’ll send them a thank you letter.”
She laughs, swatting me away. “Where are we going?”
“One of my favorite places.”
She grabs her keys and tosses them to me. “You can drive, if that’s ok with you.”
“Sure.”
Outside the sun peeks over the San Gabriel mountains, lighting Rose’s hair to a brilliant shade of fiery red. It looks good on her, and it’s something I won’t soon forget. Just like I won’t forget the no strings thing. With a fresh coat of paint to start the day, there are so many possibilities, so many ways to charm her into adding maybe one or two strings to the deal.
We hop in her Camry, and I take off down the street. In the car, I grab her hand, kissing along her sweet skin.
She opens her mouth as if she wants to say something important. You can see the exact moment in her eyes when she must decide against it, and says, “You could give me a hint.”
“I could, but where’s the fun in that?”
She yanks her hand away from me. “You’re so mean.”
I grab her hand back, bringing it to my lips once again. “You sure like being in control, do you know that?”
She glances over at me, her baby blues glistening in the soft sunlight. “I do not.”
“Oh yes, you do.” I laugh a little. “I think it’s sexy.”
She pulls my hand to her lips, a
nd kisses along my knuckles. “Two can play at this game.” She lets go of my hand, running her fingers up the inside of her thigh. “Want to see more?”
I try to pay attention to driving, but it’s getting harder and harder to keep my eyes on the road. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she says, her fingers running over the edge of her shorts to the spot in between her thighs.
“Doesn’t look that way.” But, before she can get any further I pull into the vast parking lot, filling up for this afternoon’s Major League game. “I can drive around the block a few times if you want to keep going.” And that is complete honesty.
She smiles and opens her door. “Nope. Let’s go.”
I shut the car off and step out of the driver’s side door. The smell of hot dogs and popcorn fill the air as we draw closer to the front of the stadium. I fucking love baseball. It’s America’s favorite pastime, right?
“I used to come here a lot when I was a kid, and even still now.” I walk her to the ticket booth. “Two please,” I say to the man behind the glass.
Her eyes light up as she glances around the ballpark to take it all in. It’s fun watching her. “I think I like it.” She smiles up at me. “I’ve never been here before. Are they any good?” she asks, pointing to a picture of the LA Dodgers baseball team.
My eyes go wide. “Shh, people will hear you.” I grab her hand after I’ve paid for the tickets. “Of course, they’re good. One of the best teams in the league.”
“Ah, well I can’t wait to see.”
“That’s my girl.” And I pull her closer to me, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.
I don’t know what it is about her, but I have a thing for touching her. Like my greedy hands are magnetically drawn to every part of her.
We enter the stadium and head for our light blue seats.
“Do you like all sports? Or just baseball?” she asks as we sit down.
I glance around, looking for someone selling hot dogs. “All. Golf is my favorite.”
“Ah,” she says, smiling. “Well, you seem like a golf guy.”
“A golf guy? What exactly is that?”
“Someone who plays golf.”
I laugh. “Are you saying because I’m a doctor, related to a movie star, and live in a nice house that I’m a golf guy?”
“No,” she denies. “It just seems like a rich man’s sport, maybe.”
“I’ll have you know I wasn’t always rich.”
“We’re opposites.” Her eyes connect with mine. “I grew up very rich and now don’t have a lot.”
“How does that work?”
She shrugs, and I spot the hotdog guy out of the corner of my eye and raise my hand to call him over. “My mother and father don’t believe in the same things I do.”
“God?”
“No. Just life choices and such.”
I meet her eyes. “They don’t like your job?”
She laughs. “They don’t view it the same.”
“Why not?” I grab my wallet. “Hungry?”
She nods and then answers, “Because you’re a sex therapist. And sex is not something to talk about out loud. I’ve actually never told my parents what type of therapist you are.”
“Ah ok.” I order two dogs and two soft drinks. “You just avoid it?”
She stares out at the field. “Yeah.”
“They should be proud of you. You’re excellent at your job.” And I’m telling the truth.
She looks over and winks. “I am very detailed.”
“You shouldn’t hide who you are. Some people will surprise you.”
The game starts and after a while Rose really gets into it. She cheers from the stands and smiles more than I’ve ever seen her smile. And I’m having fun. More fun than I can remember having in a long time.
“I can see why you like coming here,” she says, right before she gets nailed with a foul ball.
24
Rose
“I don’t need an alarm clock. My ideas wake me.”
—Ray Bradbury
There are no pearly gates. There’s a ticket booth with a glass encased window and a towering man selling hot dogs. Honestly, I don’t care for hot dogs, and I have no money to get into heaven, because my book isn’t selling.
“Can I charge it?” I ask the man at the booth. He’s very handsome with just a hint of scruff.
“Charge what?”
“Heaven.” It’s very sterile here. “I’m sure you wouldn’t let me in anyway, I’ve been very judgy about my boss. I like him a lot.”
He shines a bright light in my eyes, causing me to squint. “Is that so? Judgy how?”
“Making assumptions. He’s nothing like what I imagined.” He smirks a bit. “So, you gonna let me in?”
“You’re not dead,” he tells me. “Just got grazed with a ball.”
I blink, and a dull throb beats in my head. Murky green eyes stare back at me.
“You’re not Peter?”
“No, I’m Declan.”
It takes a minute for things to fall into place. We’re at a baseball game. Of the top ten places I never thought I’d go, I was pretty sure a baseball game neared the top of the list. But, I was loving it. The excitement. The thrills. The being close to Declan. And then something thwacked me in the head.
Carefully, I sit up, and realize I’m no longer in the sunlight with the breeze playing in my hair. I’m in a claustrophobic medical room on an exam table. “Well that was embarrassing,” I say, swinging my legs off the side.
Declan smirks, stepping between my knees to place his hands on my cheeks, searching my eyes for something important. “Your pupils aren’t dilated. That’s good.”
“Your eyes are really spectacular,” I tell him. “Ironically, they’re the color of an avocado.”
He laughs a little, gingerly fingering my temples. “No, they aren’t.”
After a few more tests, ibuprofen, and a little while of observation, Declan and the team doctor are convinced I have no lasting damage nor a concussion, and I’m set free.
“Minus the medical room, did you have fun?” he asks me when we drive away.
I smile wide. “I did.”
“I had one more surprise, but maybe we shouldn’t.”
“We should,” I encourage, having no idea what the surprise is. I just want to enjoy more time with him. “You said I’m fine, and I feel fine.”
His tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip and then he grins. “Ok.”
He drives off into the Hills. Yes, those Hills. Beverly Hills. Twenty minutes later, we are let through a steel gate and continue toward a colossal crescent-shaped mansion. It’s striking rubble stoned exterior holds more windows than five of my house.
“Where are we?”
As if it’s no big deal, he says, “I’d like you to meet a few of my friends.”
“Friends?” My stomach does this weird drop like we just drove down a steep incline instead of a blacktopped circular drive. I don’t know if I can do friends. I’m used to being a loner, shut off inside my head. “My hair is a mess.”
Declan reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips. “You look perfect.”
This is not the time for false compliments. He hops out and before I can lock the doors, he opens mine. Instead of going to the imposing slate gray door, he grabs my hand and navigates around the side of the house to the expansive backyard where there’s a pool with a rock waterfall and a lavish spread of food. And lots of people staring as we draw closer. And smiling. Lots of smiling going on.
A dark haired boy with an impish grin runs up to us. “You’re pretty.”
“Why thank you.” I smile at him. “I’m Rose.”
“I’m Cooper. Are you and the doc getting married?”
I glance over at Declan who looks unphased by his question. “Umm, no. We’re not.”
“Ah, it must be the s-e-x,” he spells out the word, and then his wise little self darts away, leaving me wishing it wasn’t
just sex with Declan. That I had never asked him to help me, and just let it happen organically. Because, I want so much more than just s-e-x.
So much more.
Sometimes when you least expect it, you meet people who are…your people. And sometimes they quickly become like family.
I’ve been here a mere three hours, and in that time, I have found my people. People I could see myself hanging out with for the rest of my life.
Chelsea, Nova, and Cat are probably three of the coolest women I’ve ever met. Besides Julie.
Even Declan’s guy friends are all so perfect, hovering about their women, giving them an intimate glance or touch whenever they’re nearby. They’re a tight knit group, and not once have they made me feel unwelcome.
It’s comfortable, like I’ve known them forever, sitting with them outside at the patio table, while the guys are huddled in the kitchen.
“I like the way he stares at you,” Chelsea says, before taking a sip of wine. “I’ve never seen him like this before.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s like that.”
“It’s exactly like that,” Nova says, pulling out her phone. “I need some books for the flight back to Montana. I hate flying.”
You know how you get that prickle at the nape of your neck, like something bad is about to happen? I’ve got that. And then my worst nightmare happens.
“Get something dirty,” Chelsea leans in, animated, “You’ll forget all about the flight.”
“Ohh this might be good,” Cat adds, scooting closer to look at Nova’s phone, “Love Doctor.”
First, good to know my book is showing up in the search. Second, how did I ever think any of this would work? If I were writing a character who is doing what I’ve done, I’d kill me off.
“Might be a little weird since Declan is a doctor,” Nova debates, then looks at me. “No offense.”
For a moment, I think she means because I wrote it, but then I realize she means something else entirely. “Oh, none taken,” I assure her, my cheeks blushing a little. I've never been so happy to lose a sale.
