Olivia looked shocked at my answer, but continued to laugh.
“The shortest marriage was with Kathy. They made it a week or so after the honeymoon and decided it wasn’t going to work.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Something about her only getting married to get back at her ex who never proposed to her. Technically, my dad was able to annul that one once they had proof of this. He got a mulligan and quickly moved onto another one.”
“Were any of them any good?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah, he fucked up a few good relationships. Obviously, I have to say that my mom was my favorite. Brenda comes in at a close second. She was an awesome cook and covered for me a few times when I got in minor trouble at school.”
“You’re terrible,” Olivia squealed, covering her smile.
“Then, there was Megan. She was actually just a few years older than my brother. In fact, I think she even dated one of my brother’s friends back when he was in college. She didn’t last long and I didn’t really get to know her. But, I do know that she’s a lifestyle blogger,” I said, using air quotes.
“Why do you say it like that?” Olivia giggled.
“Because all she’s doing is going on vacation with my dad’s money and taking pictures to post on her social media accounts. She’s not doing any actual work to get there. In fact, people are even paying her money to put on a swimsuit and splash around on a remote island and drink weight-loss tea that makes you shit yourself.”
“It doesn’t sound like you liked that step-mother,” she said.
I shuddered at the word. They were nothing close to mothers to me. I knew she was using the term as a joke.
“I’m not saying that. I can’t really give my full impression because I didn’t know her that well. What I do know is that she married my dad, made him happy for a short period of time, then split with a bunch of his money.”
“Oh,” she said. “That’s not cool. I’ve never experienced that. My mom doesn’t date a lot. She’s seeing someone now, but that’s really a rare event. She definitely has only been married once.”
“You want to see your parents happy, but not at all costs. I wish my dad would slow down for once in his life. It really makes me want to avoid doing any of those things.”
“What, get married?” she asked.
“No, getting involved in a committed relationship. I work a lot. I like to have fun when I have time off. You can’t successfully do all of those things with a girl at home. It never works. My brother’s been divorced. My dad’s been divorced a bunch of times. Even my grandfather has been divorced. People get married because they think that’s just what you do when you get to a certain age. No one stops to think if it’s what they really want.”
“Maybe you haven’t found the right woman,” she suggested.
“You sound like my parents. No, I’m just going to make this one little area of my life simpler for myself. I don’t need to be weighed down by the stress of pleasing a woman.”
“You don’t know how to please a woman?” she teased.
She got me there. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“Yeah,” she said boastfully.
I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and kiss her right there, but it just wasn’t the right place or time. Instead, I finished my drink and asked the waiter for the check.
As we waited to pay, I noticed that Olivia kept giving me quick, covert glances. I wondered if there was food on my face or something, because I’d see her turn her head out of the corner of my eye, then turn back away once our eyes met.
“You know, you’re under no obligation to hang out with me,” I said, finally catching her eye. “I’m not going to blackmail you into doing more of my favors if you don’t.”
She shook her head. “I know that. I was actually getting pretty hungry when you called, and I was out of my instant noodles,” she teased. “Besides, I know you’re kind of a sketchy guy, but that might be what I like the most about you. You’re definitely not boring. And, I figure if we can talk about the surgical field, that’s more of an education than I’m getting as a regular resident.”
“You like me, eh?” I pried.
She tossed her wadded up napkin at me. “You know what I mean. I’m starting to think that your girl problems aren’t solely because of your dad’s penchant for getting married.”
“No? Enlighten me, then.”
She smirked. “I’m starting to think that you have a hard time keeping women around because you can’t help but ruin everything.”
“How do I ruin everything?” I protested.
“You like to mess with girls’ heads. You want them in your bed, but you don’t want to have to do any real boyfriend duties, like spend time with them or comfort them.”
“And it’s worked out quite well for me,” I said, taking my credit card after the waiter returned.
“You love to be a huge tease,” she said as we got up from the table and walked to my car.
“Me?” I squawked. “What about you? You’re the one strutting her stuff around all the time. You’ve practically rubbed yourself against me in a hospital conference room. I would think an academic like yourself would respect places of work.”
I went to open the car door for Olivia, but kept my hand firmly on the handle, her body in between the car and me.
“What about in public?” she purred, pressing her body up against mine.
I looked around. “I’m fine with that.”
I pushed her up against my car and kissed her, my hands on her hips. She kissed me back, her mouth gaped open and desperate.
“Do you want to go—” I started to breathe.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Let’s go to your place.”
Chapter 15
Olivia
My heart was pounding as he took me by the hand and pulled me toward the elevator. Just a fraction of a second after the door closed behind us, Damon’s hands were up my skirt, pushing away my underwear as our mouths were firmly pressed together.
“Wait,” I breathed. “What if someone else gets in the elevator?”
“I don’t give a shit,” he said as he began to touch me.
I was a little nervous that we would be interrupted in a very embarrassing fashion, but after a few moments with his hands on me, I stopped caring too.
To say that I had never done this before was an understatement. During my freshman year of college, I was fooling around with a boyfriend when his roommate came back to their shared dorm. It wasn’t as if we were caught in the middle of sex, but I was beside my boyfriend, stripped down to my bra. I was so horrified by the encounter that I avoided their room for the rest of our relationship, and avoided the roommate for the rest of my college career.
Another time, I had brought a boyfriend back home to meet my mom during a school holiday break. We slept in separate bedrooms and made a deal that we would not do anything remotely sexual while I was home. I was a young woman, but I was never one to share the details of my private life with my mother. Sure, I could talk to her for hours about what was happening on a daily basis, but we didn’t have the relationship where I could talk to her about sex.
On the second day of the visit, my boyfriend and I got a little too close when we were washing dishes together. I thought my mom went to her room, but had returned to the kitchen to get a glass of water. She saw my boyfriend and me making out by the kitchen sink and awkwardly cleared her throat to announce her presence. My face turned so red that I thought I would burst into flame. I hadn’t brought anyone home since then.
Certainly, I had never done something so wild as have sex in a semi-public place. I was a private person and liked to keep things under wraps. But, Damon had a way of making me act like a completely different person. When I was with him, I felt like I could relax a little. I had to, to be anywhere near his permanently chilled-out level.
“I want you so bad,” I moaned into his ear as we rose to the top of the building
.
“You’re going to get all of me in a second,” he purred back. With one swift motion, he unzipped his pants and pulled me on top of him, plunging into me. He propped me up against the back of the elevator wall, my legs wrapping around him.
I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing him to move me up and down on him. I buried my face in his hair, in complete and total ecstasy.
With the soft ting of the elevator bell, we emerged into the apartment, barely making it out of the elevator before the doors closed again and we were sent back down to the lobby. Without setting me down once, Damon propped me up onto the kitchen counter, grasping onto my thighs. I laid back against the cool, marble countertop, my chest rising and falling with each little gasp.
Admittedly, the moment was hardly romantic. It wasn’t about that, though. We had spent two romantic dates together without an inkling of sex. Now, we were just acting upon our primal urges. I was now living out a moment I could only daydream about as I sat in the middle of the conference room during sessions. Back then, I’d look at the front of his trousers, wondering what he had going on under there. Now, I knew exactly what he was working with and it was fantastic.
For a man with so much hubris, one might expect him to be a selfish lover, only worrying about his own pleasure. But, I could confirm that he had skills that I had never experienced before. My only wish was that I could ride out the waves of pleasure for longer. I didn’t want it to end, yet I desperately wanted to get to the climax.
Inevitably, the time came where I could not contain myself any longer. I felt as though I were floating. My legs crossed behind his back, forcing him to finish along with me. After we reached climax, he leaned down and kissed me on the collarbone, his mouth warm and moist. I blinked my eyes open, realizing that I was in a multi-million dollar apartment with the man I thought to be my mentor. It was wilder than any bizarre sex dream I had ever had.
As I peeled myself off of the countertop, I had a thought that sent me into a tiny panic.
“Damon, does your elevator have cameras?”
He let out a deep belly laugh that was contagious. “Yeah, it does.”
“Seriously?” I moaned. “Can you find a way to delete the footage?” I imagined a video of my bare ass bouncing up and down on my mentor making its way back to the hospital administration.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, filling a glass of water. “I don’t tip my doorman an extra thousand dollars at Christmas not to get away with things. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you’re not the first girl in the elevator, and you probably won’t be the last. If you haven’t noticed, money can get you out of just about any sticky situation. No one is going to see that video, though I may try to get that copy for my own personal collection.”
I playfully smacked him on the arm, not finding the thought terribly funny.
Chapter 16
Olivia
My stomach was the first thing to wake me up in the morning. I hoped that Damon didn’t hear my insides obnoxiously rumbling, but he rolled over and grunted, alerting me that he was awake.
“Did you say something?” he asked sleepily.
“Nothing,” I squeaked. “I’m starving, though.”
Damon stretched out, his hand reaching out toward my belly, which rumbled again in response. “Okay, okay,” he said, drawing the covers back. He scratched his bare chest, his underwear riding low on his hips. Throughout the night, I kept waking to feel his smooth skin and well-defined muscles. It wasn’t fair that he had looks, brains, charm, and money.
“Do you want any help?” I asked.
“No, I’ve got it,” he said. “I’ve got some eggs. We can have that with some toast. I’ll be right back.”
Once he left, I retreated to the bathroom and brushed my teeth and scrubbed my face. I found a hairbrush in the cupboard and tried to tame my tangled mane. Then, I allowed myself into Damon’s closet for something clean to wear. I found an old t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts and slipped them on. I held the collar of the soft, thin shirt up to my nose and breathed deeply. It smelled so nice and fresh.
Damon’s apartment was especially clean for a bachelor pad. He didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who cared about cleanliness. I assumed he had a housekeeping service that came every few days. His place was a little too pristine for him to do it on his own.
I couldn’t imagine having such a disposable income that I could hire someone to clean my place. Of course, I could never imagine living in a big enough place in New York that I even had to worry about making a mess.
I wandered out into the kitchen to the smell of burned food. I pulled the shirt over my nose, shielding myself from the smell. Damon was running around, pulling the windows open so the smoke detector wouldn’t go off. I grabbed a towel and fanned the smoke toward the open window. When the smoke cleared, he stood by the stove, his hands on his hips and a look of resignation on his face.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I don’t really know,” he said, pulling a blackened piece of toast from the toaster. Then, he opened the trashcan and scraped out some rubbery eggs, speckled with shells. “I thought I could do this.”
I frowned. “How do you usually feed yourself?” I asked.
He looked at the floor for a moment. “I don’t really cook,” he admitted. “If I don’t go out to eat, then I order food. Or, I have someone who comes in a few times a week to cook for me.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” I asked. “I could have cooked for you.”
He pursed his lips. “I thought it would be nice to make breakfast for you, since you’re the guest and all. And, it’s kind of annoying when you’re better than me at something.”
I grabbed the pan and the spatula from him and smiled to myself. I liked when he admitted that I was good at things. Now, I just had to prove myself as slightly competent in the kitchen.
In no time, I managed to whip up the same breakfast he destroyed just moments before. I also made a fruit salad to go along with it. I found it funny that he had a fridge stocked with ingredients, but no means to cook any of it. He looked a little sheepish as we sat down to eat, but was fine once his stomach was full.
“Have you ever considered going to a cooking class?” I asked. “I’m sure you have some chef friends who could help you out a little.”
He shrugged. “It seems like that would take a lot of time. I don’t know if it’s worth it.”
“I’m sure if you put your mind to it, you could find yourself a little time,” I joked.
Damon sighed and shook his head. “I wish it were that simple. My income can buy me a lot of conveniences. What money cannot buy me is more time. If I had free time, I wouldn’t have money.”
He seemed less bright and happy than usual. Most of the time, he wore a sarcastic smirk on his face. Now, he seemed actually down.
“Sure, but isn’t there a work-life balance that comes in time,” I said. “Maybe in a few years, you’ll find that less work falls upon your shoulders. How do other surgeons do it?”
“They don’t, that’s the thing,” he groaned. “No one has a good relationship with their partners or kids because they’re never home. If they’re not in surgery, they’re on the golf course with their buddies. Sometimes, it’s easier to have a casual hookup at a nearby hotel than commute all the way home to be with your wife, because most of them live in the suburbs, not the city. It’s not like that for everyone, but it’s also not rare. You know this, right? I don’t think it’s possible to be a surgeon and be truly happy in all aspects of life.”
I frowned. I didn’t expect to be as rich and flashy as Damon one day, but I did see myself living a nice, peaceful life. I figured the first few years of working would be hard, but once I started to get into the rhythm, things would be good. I would be able to pay off my student loans and maybe even buy some property. Then, once my personal finances were in order, I could start to worry about other things like relationships and starting a family. I fi
gured all of these things would just naturally come with time.
“I’m pretty sure my dad never had these problems,” I argued. “From what I heard about our life back then, he was doing just fine.”
“Maybe, but do you think your mom told you stories about when times were tough? Has she ever talked about getting into fights with him because she was home with you and your brother and he was enjoying drinks or a golf game with his buddies? I’m sure their relationship was fine, but why would your mom ever recount a negative story about him?”
What he said made sense. My mom always talked about how proud she was of me for following in his footsteps, but maybe that was because it was like having a piece of him around. Besides, when a loved one dies, you don’t sit around talking about that person’s shortcomings. You just remember the good times. Now, I wasn’t sure what to think about the career path that I was so sure about. I had never really stopped to question if there was any reason to become a doctor besides the fact that it was what my dad did. With the weeks counting down before I would need to choose a specialty to go into, I was starting to question everything.
“Don’t tell me that you hate your job,” I said nervously. “I’ve read interviews that you’ve done in different magazines. You give tips to med school kids, and you’ve never told them not to do what you’re doing. Hell, you save lives Damon. Is this just Sunday wearing down on you?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s just life. Maybe what I do isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.”
I frowned. I didn’t like where he was going with this conversation. I was actually looking forward to hearing more about the surgical field and being a surgeon.
“It’s been my lifelong dream to do what my dad did, granted he was a general practitioner and I want to be a surgeon, but still,” I said, more for my reassurance than his, “I’ve had this clear goal in mind for years. I’ve mapped out my entire life to get to the point where I can achieve these things. When I read about how much you’ve accomplished in such a short amount of time, I am inspired. I thought that if you could be successful at age twenty-six, I could reasonably get what I wanted by thirty. You said yourself that I have a bright future in the medical field.”
Forbidden Prescription 6: A Stepbrother Fake Girlfriend Medical Romance (Forbidden Medicine) Page 9
