Drawn Deeper

by Brenda Rothert

  After that, I read for a few hours, only looking at the clock every ten minutes or so. I was dying to go to Kyle’s.

  At 5:40, I couldn’t wait any longer. I picked up the overnight bag I’d packed, set it in the back of my Jeep, and headed for his place.

  I’d spent so many years feeling like I didn’t deserve a man like Kyle that this still felt a little surreal to me. But with every day that passed, it sank in that this was really happening.

  My heart felt fluttery as I waited on his doorstep. Not just over my fantasy, but over having a tall, dark, and sexy man who wanted to make my fantasy a reality.

  Kyle opened the door, and his easy smile spread across his face. “Hey. Get in here.”

  I walked inside, figuring I’d at least get a kiss, but nothing. Instead, he led the way into the kitchen.

  “I’m ready for you,” he said.

  “I see.” I took in his light blue surgical scrubs, biting my lower lip with excitement.

  He glanced down at his scrubs and then back up at me. “I’ve got more in mind than just this, Miss Hobbs.”

  A swirl of arousal formed low in my belly. “Oh, you do?”

  “Oh, I do.” He approached me, and when we were just a few steps apart, he gave me a serious look. “The fantasy begins when we get to the bottom of the basement stairs, got it? It’s all doctor/patient from then on.”

  I nodded and breathed out slowly, the sweet anticipation nearly killing me. “Have you ever had a doctor/patient fantasy?”

  “No, but I’m very into doing this with you.”

  “Me too,” I said, a hint of begging in my tone.

  “Let’s wait ten more minutes.”

  My eyes widened with disbelief and he laughed, then took my hand and led me to the basement stairs.

  “You’re mean,” I murmured.

  He turned to me when we were halfway down the stairs. “Before we get there, just so you don’t think I went overboard, I got this stuff when the hospital built its new clinic. So I already had it.”

  “What stuff?”

  He let go of my hand and walked to the bottom of the stairs. When I got there, I followed him through the huge, finished family room to a door of a room I’d never been in.

  My heart was pounding now. When he opened the door and flipped the light switch on, I gasped with surprise.

  There was a beige doctor’s exam table, the back inclined. It was covered with a fresh section of white paper, just as it would have been in a doctor’s office. And it even had . . . stirrups?

  “Oh . . .” I smiled nervously at him. “Wow.”

  He picked up a faded green cotton hospital gown and handed it to me, his expression all business.

  “You’ll need to change into this. Everything off. Leave it open in the front.”

  He left the room and closed the door behind him. I clutched the gown in my hand, wondering if this would be hot or just weird.

  No turning back now. With a deep breath, I slipped out of the gray cotton dress and sexy black heels I’d worked so hard on picking out for tonight. Same with the white lacy bra and panties. I put the gown on and slid up onto the exam table, holding the gown’s two sides together in the front.

  Kyle’s storage room was mostly packed boxes stacked a few high and some unused furniture. But sitting here in a gown on an exam table felt very much like actually being at a doctor’s office.

  When the door handle turned, I sat up straight, my heart racing. Kyle now had a stethoscope around his neck.

  “Miss Hobbs, I’m Dr. Lockhart. I’ll be doing your pelvic exam today. Let’s get your feet into those stirrups, please.”

  Well, hello. I liked his authoritative doctor tone.

  I put my heels on the cool metal, my eyes locked on his.

  “Good,” he said. “Let’s start with a breast exam. Open your gown, please.”

  I opened it, expecting to see his eyes widen, but he kept on his impassive, professional face.

  He gently squeezed each breast, taking his time to feel every inch of them, and then he traced his fingertip around each nipple until they were hard.

  “Perfect,” he murmured. “I’ll just listen to your heart now.”

  He stood beside the table and put the end of his stethoscope against my chest. His other hand brushed across my thigh, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake.

  He stepped back from the table. “All right, let’s get the exam underway.”

  Even though it was Kyle, a thrill passed through me as he put his hands on my knees at the foot of the table.

  “Keep your legs spread nice and wide for me, Miss Hobbs.”

  “Okay,” I said, the word coming out strangled.

  He pulled up a stool and sat down on it. Even though he wasn’t touching me, I was fully exposed to him, and it felt hot and forbidden.

  “Are you sexually active, Miss Hobbs?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yes.”

  “How many partners?”

  “Just one.”

  “I see.” He ran his fingertip up and down the length of my slit, and I gasped.

  “And tell me . . . what kinds of things do you do with your partner?”

  “I . . . we . . .” He slipped a fingertip inside me, and I moaned. “We have sex. Really good sex.”

  “I need you to be specific, Miss Hobbs. Where does he fuck you?”

  Holy shit. The question, in his clinical doctor tone, made me clench my thighs together.

  “Legs wide open for me,” he said.

  “Yes. I . . . he fucks my pussy.”

  “I see. And do you like it?”

  “I love it.”

  “What else?”

  I swallowed hard, desire making me feel warm all over. “I gave him a blow job, but . . . I want him to fuck my mouth. I fantasize about it.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. I want him to hold on to my hair and fuck my mouth.”

  He slid his finger in farther. “You’re doing very well, Miss Hobbs.”

  “Ohh.” I moved my hips to sink his finger in even farther.

  “Do you let your partner fuck your ass?”

  “Oh, God. I . . . haven’t, but I would.”

  He slipped a second finger inside me. “Have you ever been fucked in the ass?”

  “No.”

  “You’re very wet, Miss Hobbs. Does talking about your partner always make you this wet?”

  I leaned up on my elbows and looked at him. “Yes.”

  He kept his eyes locked on mine as he pumped his fingers in and out of me, slowly and deeply.

  “Leave the gown open all the way for me,” he said.

  I peeled the sides of it apart until it hung from my arms. My back was arched into the air, and I was grinding my hips up and down on Kyle’s fingers, all inhibitions forgotten.

  “Miss Hobbs, I think you’re enjoying this,” he said, a smile playing on his lips.

  I just moaned, unable to form any words.

  “You’re a very dirty patient, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Oh, my God . . . yes.”

  “Does your partner ever suck on that gorgeous clit?”

  I just panted, my legs on the verge of shaking, as he lowered his face and brushed his tongue across my clit.

  It was beyond good. I felt it in every nerve ending—a deep, sensual promise of the pleasure to come.

  With one more sweep of his tongue, I came hard. He sucked on my clit and worked his fingers in and out of me until I’d collapsed onto the table, breathless.

  “You’ve been such a good patient, Miss Hobbs,” he said, standing up. “But look what you’ve done to me.”

  He rubbed the erection that was straining against his pants. I scooted my ass down past the edge of the table, opening my knees as far as they would go.

  “You’ve earned a reward for doing so well,” he said, untying his pants and pushing them down.

  In an instant, he was buried completely inside me. He groaned hard and held on
to my thighs, pumping himself in and out as I held on to the sides of the table.

  The harder he fucked me, the better it felt. His strained expression of satisfaction made me feel like a goddess.

  Once again, Kyle was topping every sexual experience I’d ever had. He grunted as he pounded into me, and within a couple minutes, I came again. When he slammed into me for the last time with a guttural groan, I smiled and pushed a lock of sweaty hair out of my face.

  He exhaled deeply and looked down at me. “How was that?”

  I laughed and sat up, kissing him. “That . . . was fucking incredible.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “I thought so, too. You want to go out for dinner now?”

  I gave him a confused look. “Out?”

  “Out. You and me.”

  “In Lovely?”

  “Yes. May the gossipmongers see our expressions of gratification and know that we just fucked.”

  My emotions overflowed. I wouldn’t let myself cry. Not now. That would be embarrassing.

  But I couldn’t help the one tear that escaped. Kyle was leaving his comfort zone for me. It felt as amazing as the sex had. Maybe even better.

  Kyle

  The next Friday night, I squinted at Mason through a cloud of cigar smoke.

  “Are your nuts still in there? Is April letting you keep them until after the ceremony?”

  “Funny, fucker,” he said, glaring. “And you’re one to talk.”

  “I hear you.” I shook my head. “I do. And you know I love April.”

  My brothers and I were sitting in the great room of the lodge I’d rented for Mason’s bachelor weekend. Dad was flying in tomorrow morning, and we were all going hunting. Which meant tonight, the five of us were alone. And more than a little drunk.

  Justin passed me a fresh bottle of beer and sat down next to me on the leather sofa, putting his feet up by mine on the coffee table.

  “Did I hear right?” he asked me. “You’re seeing Meredith Hobbs now?”

  “Yep.”

  He arched his brows and sipped his beer. “Seeing her, or . . . seeing her?”

  “All of the above.”

  Justin glanced at Reed, who was lighting a cigar.

  “I’m fine with it,” he said after his first puff.

  “And on that subject . . .” Mason stood and held his beer in the air, wobbling on his feet. “Are we good to toast to the loss of your blow job virginity, oldest brother?”

  Justin stared at me, his mouth open in horror. “Your what?”

  “Kim refused to blow him,” Austin said, sounding both appalled and amused.

  “So you’ve never . . . ?”

  “Has she popped your cherry or what?” Mason bellowed.

  “I don’t kiss and tell,” I said, taking another puff of my cigar.

  “I don’t give a fuck about the kissing,” Mason said. “My question is, do you get your dick sucked and tell?”

  The others found that pretty damn funny, but once they were finished laughing, all eyes were on me.

  “Come on, man,” Austin said. “Just a yes or a no. You’ll be thirty-eight soon. If Mason accidentally shoots me while we’re hunting tomorrow, I don’t want to die thinking you’ve never had your knob polished.”

  “It wouldn’t be an accident, fucker,” Mason quipped.

  I looked at him. “Mason, do you want to tell us about April’s blow jobs?”

  “Fuck yeah. She’s incredible at them. When she wears those librarian glasses . . . I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

  “And how would she feel about you telling us that?”

  He shrugged. “You’re my brothers. I’m sure she tells Ivy about my world-class pussy-eating skills.”

  “We talk about it at dinner most nights,” Reed said, nodding.

  “Meredith and I are taking things slow,” I said. “We kiss all the time, and last weekend I made it to first base.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Mason yelled. “Are you? Because that is the hugest, steamingest pile of bullshit I have ever—”

  “Yes, I’m kidding, you dumbass. I’m not going into detail, but yeah, a toast wouldn’t be out of line.”

  Mason threw his arms in the air, splashing beer onto the lodge’s wood plank floor.

  “To the end of Kyle’s blow job virginity!” he yelled. “Hopefully, before he has gray hair on his nuts.”

  We clinked bottles and drank. After a few seconds of silence, Reed met my eyes from the chair he sat in across from the couch.

  “So things are good with you guys, then?”

  “Things are amazing with us,” I said. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

  “Good. You guys both deserve that.”

  “Just don’t get serious about her,” Justin said. “This is only the second woman you’ve ever been with, right? You need to add a few more notches to your belt before you settle down again.”

  “I’m already serious about her. There’s no other woman out there who could compare to Meredith for me. And not only do we have amazing chemistry, she loves the boys and they love her back. Hell, they wanted to stay home with her instead of coming with us this weekend.”

  “Mom asked me to try to talk some sense into you about her,” Reed said.

  “Good luck with that,” I said sarcastically.

  “I told her I think it’s great. I don’t know if I changed her views on things, but I tried.”

  “I appreciate it. Mom and I are gonna end up throwing down over this.”

  “Don’t do that,” Austin said.

  I looked at Mason. “I want to bring Meredith to the wedding.”

  He just looked at me for a second. “Okay? What, are you asking me or something?”

  “Mom told me not to bring her.”

  He nodded. “Because it’s at her house, so she feels like it’s her deal.”

  “I guess. And I get it if you don’t want family tension at your wedding. I won’t ask her if you don’t want me to. But I won’t not ask her because Mom told me to. Or not to.” I shook my head. “Hell, I’m drunk.”

  “It’s my wedding, and I say bring her. April will say the same thing.”

  “Thanks. I want her to sit with the boys.” I took a long puff on my cigar and turned to Mason. “So when are you and April gonna start making babies?”

  “Hopefully, soon.”

  “Yeah? Good deal, man.”

  “Hey,” Reed said. “Uh . . . I was planning to wait ’til tomorrow to tell you guys this, but I can’t . . . I’m too happy to wait. Ivy’s pregnant.”

  A collective yell of excitement sounded. We all got up and crushed him in a group hug.

  “Congratulations, man,” Mason said, grinning. “Damn, that is awesome.”

  “Thanks. She’s two months along.”

  “Noah must be thrilled,” I said, clapping Reed on the shoulder.

  “We just told him the other day. He keeps asking Ivy how much longer ’til he’s a big brother.”

  “He’ll only ask like five thousand more times before the baby’s born,” Austin said.

  “Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?” Mason asked Reed.

  “I really don’t care. Just healthy, that’s all we hope for.”

  “This calls for another shot,” Mason said, tipping a bottle and filling the bottoms of the five glass tumblers on the table.

  I groaned, foreseeing a serious hangover tomorrow, and picked up one of the glasses.

  “To Reed’s fastest sperm!” Mason called out. “And to another little Lockhart.”

  “Here, here,” I said, tipping back the drink.

  I finished my cigar and got up from the couch, listening to a conversation between Reed and Austin.

  “I was really glad to dodge that bullet,” Reed said. “I couldn’t have taken the case, anyway. The whole thing’s hit Ivy pretty hard and she’s actually spent some time with Madison, so I’m conflicted out.”

  They w
ere talking about Patrick Rhodes, the man charged with sexually assaulting Madison Golden. Reed was a part-time public defender, but the main public defender had been assigned to Rhodes’s case.

  “That guy’s a fucking monster,” I said.

  “How’s Madison doing?” Austin asked me.

  “I don’t know anything firsthand.”

  “Did you treat her the night it happened?” Justin asked.

  I nodded. “I think everyone’s heard I was there that night, but I can’t go into detail. It was a hard one for me. Really hard. I treated Rhodes, too.”

  “No fucking way,” Mason said.

  “I had to.”

  “No, I know. I understand. I just can’t imagine.”

  I looked at Reed. “I’m glad you didn’t get his case.”

  “I’ve got a whole new perspective as a parent,” he said. “I don’t know what I’d do if someone hurt Noah that way. I’d be fit to commit murder.”

  “Me too. I hope that bastard gets ripped apart in prison.” I yawned and glanced at the clock. “Well, on that somber note, I’m going to bed.”

  “What? It’s only midnight,” Mason said. “And where my strippers at?”

  “I’m too old for that shit. I’m going to call Meredith before she goes to sleep.”

  “Awww,” Justin cried dramatically. “Kyle’s gonna go check in.”

  “Fuck you, man. I’ll see you ladies back out here at four thirty.”

  “At what time?” Mason cried.

  “We’re meeting Dad at six.”

  “I’m going to bed,” Mason said.

  Everyone else followed, and the lodge was quiet when I got into the king-size bed in my room. When I took out my phone to call Meredith, there was a photo and a text from her, sent two hours ago.

  Meredith: So sleepy. We swam for four hours and went out for dinner w/my dad. I’m in Eric’s bed bc he fell asleep reading me Harry Potter. Hope you’re having fun. xoxo

  The photo was of the boys jumping into the pool, both midair with their arms and legs out, smiling. It made me smile, too.

  A year ago, I’d wondered if my sons would ever be carefree again. They’d been devastated by Kim leaving, because even though she was an out-of-control alcoholic, she was their mother. Kids at school had teased them about their mom not loving them. There had been nights when they’d slept in my bed, one or both of them crying but trying not to show it.