Doctor Of My Dreams (BWWM Romance)

by Tasha Jones

  “Don’t you worry about it,” she said smiling. Trevor had already disappeared into the house. I’d had to grab him by the scruff of the neck to get a kiss. “I’ll make him a nice bed in the lounge and we’ll have a Pixar Movie Marathon. You just go on and enjoy your night, and if you only pick him up in the morning, that’s fine too.” She smiled at me and I half-expected her to wink.

  “No, no. That’s not necessary,” I said, shaking my head. “Richard is just… well we’re just going out to dinner.”

  “It’s been too long since you’ve had some male company in the house older than five. Take the night off. Even if it is just to catch up on sleep then. Or not.”

  I opened my mouth to argue again but closed it without saying anything. It was pointless arguing about it. She would notice when I knocked on her door half past ten to collect Trevor that I was just going out with a friend for some food and then I would be back.

  When I walked down the street back to my own home, I thought about that. Was Richard a friend? I didn’t even know. He was much more than that, somehow. But then there was the case of the money. I didn’t know what to make of it.

  All I knew was that that money was my ticket to a better life, and even though I’d insisted on saying no at first, I was damn happy Richard had insisted I keep it. I needed a break. And God knew Trevor did too.

  I put on black pants and a black halter top with a dipping neckline. When I looked in the mirror, I wondered if it was a little too much, saying I wanted more than friendship. But I decided to keep it. I liked the way it accentuated the curve that lead down to my cleavage, and the straight line of my collarbones above it.

  I tied my hair up in a twist and put on golden earrings and a necklace that hung low between my breasts. Marcus had given it to me, and I was in half a mind to take it off. But when I looked at the final product in the mirror, I decided to keep it on. Richard would never know where I got it, and whenever I was with him, Marcus wasn’t even on the border of my thoughts the way he sometimes was. He just disappeared.

  I finished off my look with black strappy heels. They weren’t high, just high enough to be classy.

  When the doorbell rang, I grabbed a salmon colored wrap and threw it over my shoulder, and a black clutch with gold trim that complimented my jewelry. The patent leather was cracked and worn around the edges and the golden trim had scratch marks on it, but I was banking on the restaurant having dim lighting.

  When I opened the door, Richard froze.

  “What?” I asked, looking down at my clothes. Had I missed a stain or a crease?

  “You look amazing,” Richard breathed and his eyes slid over my body in a way I imaged his hands would.

  “You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said. The last time we’d gone out he’d worn jeans with rolled up sleeves and shoes that couldn’t quite count as smart. Now he was dressed in a black suit with a tie that coincidentally matched my shawl. His hair was combed to the side and back, like the men you saw in the Rolex ads, and his shoes were so shiny I bet I could see myself in them.

  “I was scared I’d overdressed,” I said, looking down.

  “No, it’s perfect,” he said, and offered me his arm. I smiled and hooked my arm in the crook of his elbow, and he walked me through the gate to his car.

  The car was as fancy on the inside as it looked on the outside, with enough dials and screens inside to control a city. When he started the engine, it roared into the dusk, and he turned and raced down the road. The pure, raw power under me gave me goose bumps, and a giggle tore out of my throat.

  Richard glanced at me and smiled.

  ***

  Walking into the restaurant was like I’d walked into a dream. The whole place was decorated in shades of white and beige, with grey accents here and there. One whole wall was occupied by an enormous fish tank with all sorts of exotic fish and the waiters floated noiselessly between tables, balancing plates and glasses on silver trays that seemed to grow out of their hands.

  The maître d’ showed us to a table with crystal wine glasses and silver cutlery, and when Richard ordered wine, he spoke about the vintage like winery was a different language. He was fluent and comfortable in the lap of luxury, and I felt out of place and like a princess all at the same time.

  The night sped past in a blur, with the wine wrapping us in a cocoon where it was just me and Richard, and the dark blue of his eyes stretching until it enveloped me.

  When we raced home, it felt like time stood still as the neighborhoods flew past in streaks of light and dark. We pulled up in front of my house, and he jumped out and opened the door for me. I smiled and took the hand he offered.

  “Thank you for a great night,” I said at the door, meaning it. I stood on my toes, the heels lifting off the ground a bit, and aimed for his cheek, but he turned his head and my lips landed on his.

  His lips were warm and I could still taste the wine lingering on them like an afterthought. My body felt like clay, soft and moldable, and when he traced my lips with his tongue, hinting for more, I opened my mouth and let him in.

  He kissed me like he wanted to taste every part of my mouth, his tongue swirling around mine, tasting me. I sighed into his mouth. His arms wrapped around my waist and he pulled my body against his. His body was strong and muscular, hard through his suit. His hands slipped down on my lower back, and then he slid one hand down to my ass. He left it there, unmoving, almost like a question. When I snaked my arms around his neck as an answer, he squeezed my ass and massaged it, his fingers serious and able.

  I stepped back, pulling him along with me so that we were inside the house. He leaned against me, pushing my back against the wall in the hallway. The cold concrete on my bare skin made me gasp. He pushed his hips against mine, and I could feel him through his pants, a hard shaft that pressed against my pubic bone. With his one hand still on my ass, his other hand slid around and cupped my breast. He pressed his thumb against my nipple, and moved it slowly from side to side.

  I felt a twinge between my legs, my lust for him coming to life, and like an animal that had been hibernating for a long time, my body uncurled and stretched into a hunger for him that I hadn’t known in a long time.

  I stopped kissing him and took his hand, leading him behind me to the bedroom. My house wasn’t much to look at, and I was embarrassed about it more often than not, but tonight it felt like it didn’t matter. Richard wasn’t here to inspect my house.

  In the bedroom he took control again. He was all over me before we reached the bed, his hands on my breasts, his mouth on my neck. I stepped back and collapsed on the bed with him on top of me. He pushed his hips against me again, grinding his erection against me, coaxing the lust inside of me until my body begged for his.

  I kicked my shoes off and wrapped my legs around his body, pulling him closer into me. He found the bottom of my shirt and his hands were on my bare skin. His fingers moving towards my chest, leaving a trail of fire behind, and when he reached it, he pulled the material of my bra aside. He took my nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolled it until it was hard and erect.

  I lifted up my arms so he could pull the shirt over my head. He did. He also found the clasp for my bra behind my back and it was undone before I could think about it. He’d obviously done it before.

  But never did he make me feel like I was just another lay. He made me feel like I was the only one he’d ever really seen, and really touched. And if that was what it felt like to be in his hands, I didn’t care how experienced he was and where he’d learned it.

  My nipples tightened at the cold air in the room when I lay topless in front of him. He sat up, straddling me, and looked at me. His eyes traced my body and I could feel where they landed like he’d used his hands.

  I reached down and unbuttoned my own pants, leaving it up to him when he wanted to pull them off. He got rid of his own shirt first, and then his pants, before he pulled mine down over my knees.

  I was left wearing only a
G-string that covered barely anything at all. He dragged his fingers down over my tummy, making me shudder, and then down between my hips, his finger finding the top of the slit through the material. He leaned forward and kissed me before he lay down next to me, his hands still on me. His fingers were light on my skin, but it felt like electricity shooting into my core every time he touched me. I was wet, I could feel it between my legs and I scissored my thighs against each other. I arched my back, pushing my breasts up towards his face, and he took the invitation. He took the closest one in his mouth and sucked on it, turning his tongue over and around it in slow circles the way he’d done with his hands a moment ago. I moaned and pushed my hips down so his hand cupped me.

  He lifted the material and with his fingers he found my clit, pushing against it so I cried out. He pushed his fingers into me and I gasped, but he pulled them out again and used my own wetness to lubricate me.

  He used two fingers on my clit so it felt like he was everywhere at once, and with his mouth on my neck and his fingers drawing me out, he brought me closer and closer to the edge.

  When I thought I was ready to explode, he stopped. I gasped for breath, trying to fight the disappointment and the ache to have him back. He pulled off his underwear, and his cock sprung free. He was big, thick and long, and his head craned toward me like it was drawn. He positioned over me and he trailed a slick trail of lust along my thigh. I opened my legs for him, and he found my entrance like a homing missile, pushing into me. I moaned as he did, and when he was in all the way to the hilt I gasped for breath.

  My insides stretched and yielded, fighting to accommodate him. He pulled out of me, and pushed in again, and my body accepted him, opening up and taking the size of him.

  He pulled out again and pushed into me, harder this time. I reached my arms around his shoulders and grabbed hold of him. He pulled and pushed against me again, moving my body on the mattress. My nails bit into his skin and I moaned as he rocked against me, building up a rhythm that started an entire new orgasm inside of me.

  Faster and faster he bucked his hips, his mouth finding mine now and then to kiss me before he let me gasp for another breath. His hand found a breast and he kneaded and massaged it while he pumped in and out of me like a piston.

  He led me to the edge, and I knew it wouldn’t take much for me to topple over. I would fall, and his mouth on my neck, his hand on my breast, promised he would catch me.

  And then I went over, exploding in a blinding light that started from my hips and fanned out through my body until it bled out of my fingers and toes. He followed right after me, releasing inside of me and pumping until every corner of me was his. Our skin was slick with sweat where we touched each other, and the ragged sound of our breathing filled the room.

  Richard collapsed on me, panting. He slipped out of me and rolled off to the side, his arm still across my chest. He sighed audibly, and then he pulled me against him.

  “You’re incredible,” he said.

  I kissed him because I didn’t know how to respond to that. No one had called me incredible for a very long time, and no one had ever taken the time to make me feel like I was the center of their universe.

  We fell asleep, his body curled around mine like a question mark, and for the first time possibly in forever I thought that maybe it was safe to assume he would still be there when I woke up in the morning.

  Chapter 8 - Richard

  I signed the papers and moved them across the glass tabletop toward the lawyer. We’d finally gotten around to discussing who got what, and the divorce could go through now. It was just a matter of time.

  Astrid walked out ahead of me, her heels clacking on the marble floors of the lobby.

  “Oh, I wanted to ask you a favor,” she said to me, like we hadn’t just gone through the proceedings of ending our marriage. Was I the only one that felt like I was coming undone at the seams?

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’m having a cocktail at the mansion later to kick off the children’s charity this afternoon. Will you come?”

  We walked through the glass double doors together and into the sunlight.

  “Why do you want me to come?” I asked.

  “I invited some people that will only arrive if you’re there,” she said. “I might have mentioned you’d make an appearance.”

  I sighed and sat down on the edge of a concrete planter box.

  “Why do you do these things, Astrid? Don’t you understand that I don’t want anything to do with you?”

  “Yes, yes, you said that. But these are our friends, Richie. We can’t divide them like we just did the assets. We can’t force them to choose.”

  I hadn’t been planning on forcing them to choose. I’d been planning on cutting all ties.

  “I don’t think so, Astrid,” I said. She sat down next to me and stared at her hands. Her manicured nails were long and red, the way they always were.

  “I just wanted things to go back to normal after this. I don’t want hard feelings between us. Please just come? Even if it is for a short while. Everyone knows about us by now. It won’t be like I’d expect you to put on an act.”

  I rubbed my chin.

  “I’ll come if I can bring a date,” I said. Astrid looked taken aback, but she recovered immediately. I didn’t feel guilty at all. She’d been stringing along other men since the beginning.

  “Sure, if that’s what you want.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t.

  “What?” I prodded.

  “Oh, I don’t know…” her voice sounded thick like she was going to cry. I’d never known her to have that many emotions. “I just didn’t think you would move on so quickly.”

  “That’s funny. Because our whole marriage long, I was thinking maybe you would stop looking for other men at all.”

  I stood up and walked away.

  ***

  I dialed Nadine’s number before I reached my car.

  “I have to go to a function this afternoon. Will you come with me? As my date?”

  “What about Trevor?” she asked.

  “See if you can get Dianne to watch him. Just an hour or two, I just need to show face.”

  “Will it be fancy?” she asked.

  “Yes, wear something a little dressy.”

  I hung up and drove home to get ready.

  Chapter 9 - Nadine

  I wore a white dress with red roses on it that came halfway down my thigh. I slipped on cork wedges and I let my hair loose. I’d bought this outfit for the opening of my salon next weekend, but it was about as classy as I had for a day function.

  I put on a light red glossy lip with it. Dianne had picked Trevor up from our house ten minutes ago. Thank goodness she had nothing to do with her time.

  Five minutes later, I heard Richard pull up, and I grabbed a weaved handbag that was the same color as the wedges. I stuffed my phone, wallet, lip gloss and deodorant into it, and left the house.

  Richard got out of the car and kissed me before he walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for me. He wore khaki-colored pants and a sky blue shirt that made his eyes stand out. He wore a golden watch on his wrist that I hadn’t seen before. He looked like he’d stepped out from the cover of a magazine.

  “Is this alright?” I asked, looking down at my dress. I felt frumpy and underdressed.

  “Perfect, you look great,” Richard said. I still doubted it.

  We drove to a neighborhood where streets were lined with nine foot walls and electric fencing, gates that only showed glimpses of the mansions behind them. Security guards were in boots every couple of yards, and they waved at Richard like they knew him.

  “How can you stand living in a fishbowl like this?” I asked him. Richard had never taken me to his place. I’d thought it was because he was shy. Now I realized it was because he hadn’t wanted me to feel out of place.

  Because right now, I did.

  “You get used to being under scrutiny,” he s
aid. We stopped at a large cast iron gate with intricate designs, and he rang the intercom, looking into the camera. The gates groaned and then swung open slowly, letting us through.

  Richard parked in a line of other expensive cars. I spotted a Lamborghini two cars down and there were two Ferraris. Something told me this wasn’t just a regular garden function.

  Richard took my hand and nodded at me. I was supposed to be reassuring, but when we walked through the giant double doors that led into the house, I felt like I wanted to run away and hide.

  A small orchestra in one corner of the garden played light classical music, and everywhere people stood around with glasses of champagne. They all wore clothes that were a lot more extravagant and expensive than mine. When Richard and I walked onto the grass among them, they all stopped talking and stared.

  The music didn’t stop playing, but I half expected it to.

  “Richard, darling, I’m so glad you could make it,” a woman cried out and hurried across the lawn to us. Her hair was a honey blond and arranged in intricate curls around her head before it was knotted on the back of her neck. She wore a grass-green dress that hung to the ground and flowed around her curves. Her neckline plunged down almost to her belly button, and her skin was glossy and salon-cultivated.

  “And you must be…?”

  “Nadine,” I said, holding out my hand.

  “Astrid,” the woman said, looking down her nose at my hand. I dropped it to my side again.

  “She’s absolutely adorable, Richie,” Astrid said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Do help yourself to some champagne.”

  When we turned toward the champagne table, my cheeks burned. Everywhere eyes were on me, and I felt like I was being judged for everything, from my shoes and my dress to my offer of a handshake.

  “You’re doing great,” Richard whispered to me.

  “It doesn’t feel like it,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it. They don’t matter. Just you and me, okay?”

  “How long do we have to stay?” I asked, but someone started speaking to Richard before he answered me. He still held my hand, but his attention was on other things, and I felt like I was just being dragged along. I dropped his hand.