by Piper Reeds
I was too rattled to go back to work, so I headed to my apartment. Even though the streets were buzzing with people, I felt completely alone as I made it up the stairs to my front door. I could call one of my girlfriends, my sister, or even my mom, but I couldn’t tell any of them about my experience with Dr. Pratt. None of them would understand what had happened between us. They would just twist it into something wrong and make me feel awful about it.
As I headed into the kitchen, I could almost hear my mother say, “This guy is a nutjob, Grace! You should sue him for malpractice” On the other hand, she might’ve been thrilled to hear that a doctor of any kind was interested in me. Deciding I didn’t care what anyone thought, I grabbed a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and poured myself a drink. I took a long sip then carried it over to my desk. I turned on my laptop. I needed something to distracting me from my overactive hormones, so I started sorting through my emails. I had an assignment due by the end of the week and should’ve spent my time researching for it, but without even realizing what I was doing, I typed in the name Dr. Michael Pratt. A thrill shot through me soon as I hit enter. I wanted to know everything there was to know about him, but I got more than I bargained for. In a matter of seconds, my screen was bombarded with a long list of sites mentioning Dr. Pratt and his associates. Intrigued, I clicked on his work website, and I couldn’t help but smile when his handsome face popped up on my computer. As I stared at his picture, I reached for my glass of wine and took another long drink.
As I scrolled through the page, reading all the rave reviews left from families he’d helped, and noting all the awards he’d won, it all seemed so surreal. A man with a career like his wouldn’t put everything at risk for a one-night stand with a patient—even an ex-patient. It just didn’t make sense. I was lost in my thoughts and almost didn’t hear it when my phone started vibrating across the room. I sat down my glass and hurried over to the counter. I quickly reached inside my purse to grab my phone, and as soon as I saw her name flash across the screen, I sighed with disappointment.
“Hi, Mom,” I answered.
“Did you see that email I sent you?” she asked excitedly.
“The one about the gym?” I’d seen her email, along with the twenty other text messages she’d sent, but as usual, I’d ignored them. I hoped she’d just drop it and move on to her next grand idea.
“Yes! It just opened, and it’s only a few blocks from your apartment. They are offering free memberships for the rest of the month.”
“Okay,” I grumbled. Damn. She wasn’t going to let it go.
“Grace, it would be a great way for you to meet people.” I knew why she wanted me to join the gym, and it had nothing to do with meeting people. She had it in her head that I needed to lose weight. There were days I’d agreed with her, but today wasn’t one of them. When I thought back to Michael and the way he’d looked at me, I’d never felt so sexy, like my figure was great—exactly the way it was, and I wasn’t about to let her make me feel bad about myself.
“I said okay, Mom.”
“There’s no reason to get snippy, Grace. You spend most of your day sitting in front of a computer, and it wouldn’t kill you to get a little exercise now and then.”
“You’re right,” I groaned. “I’ll look into it tomorrow.”
“Why tomorrow? They don’t close until five. You have plenty of time to run by there today.” A curse was on the tip of my tongue. It was just sitting there, ready to lash out at her, but before I had a chance to let it roll, she continued, “I’ll come down and go with you, if you want me to. I don’t mind.”
“No. That’s not necessary,” I replied, biting my tongue. I knew deep down she had good intentions, but she was just ticking me off. Knowing I needed to change the subject, I asked, “Hey, don’t you have to help Mia with Nate’s birthday party?”
“Oh. Yes. I guess I don’t have time to do both.”
“No, you don’t, besides, Nate’s birthday is more important than checking out a gym.” I knocked on my wall several times, and then said, “Sorry, Mom. I have to go. There’s someone at the door.”
“Are you at home?”
And just like that, I’d opened another can of worms. Next, she’d be asking if something was wrong at work or if I was sick. Trying to shoot two birds with one stone, I said, “Umm…Yes. I needed some peace and quiet so I can finish this article.”
“Oh.” I was relieved that she’d caught the hint. “Okay, dear. Let me know how it goes at the gym tomorrow.”
I was beyond aggravated as I hung up the phone. My mother had a way of getting under my skin better than anyone. I grabbed the bottle of wine, and as I poured myself another drink, I decided that I wasn’t going to let her get to me—not today. Michael had me feeling beautiful, sexy even, and I wasn’t going to let her take that away. I took my glass of wine, along with my phone, and headed into the bathroom. I filled the tub with the hottest water I could stand, then undressed and slipped inside. The warm water felt like heaven, and I quickly forgot about my conversation with my mother. I turned on the jets, then leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
It didn’t take long for him to creep back into my thoughts. His beautiful, dark eyes. His strong, masculine hands. His seductive words—‘I ease my hand down the nape of her neck to the swell of her breast, then down her hip and up her thigh, only to find her soaking wet…tasting a woman, teasing her, tormenting her with my mouth, and watching her as she comes unglued…I plan to do each and every one those things to you, Grace.’ My entire body tingled with desire as one hand reached for my breast, and the other slipped between my legs. I imagined him touching me as I caressed my now swollen nub. With each twirl of my finger, I found myself getting more and more aroused, and just as I was getting close to the edge, I remembered his request. ‘Save that hot, little pussy just for me.’ At first, I tried to forget those words and continued with my pursuit, but it didn’t take me long to realize the moment was gone. I knew there was no hope for an orgasm, so I moved my hand and sat up in the water. Damn it.
I grabbed my razor and shaved my legs. When I got close to my upper thigh, I noticed my legs weren’t the only things that needed shaving. Horrified by the ’70s Afro I was sporting; I got out of the tub and into the shower. I hadn’t waxed since my last breakup, and to say that things down there were a mess was the understatement of the year. It was time to do some lady gardening, but as I pressed the razor against my skin, I couldn’t decide if I should leave a little in the shape of a triangle or go completely bare. I decided to just go for it, and by the time I was done, I’d gone through two razors, and I’d broken out in a sweat. As I stepped out of the shower, I got a look at myself in the mirror and grumbled curses under my breath. I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was actually considering going to see him at that hotel, but then again, I wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble if I weren’t at least considering it.
Deciding to avoid the thought altogether, I put on some comfortable clothes, sprawled out on the bed, turned on the TV, and started flipping through the channels. I ended up on some romantic comedy, and as I watched the couple interact, a thought came to my mind. If I could find a flaw, something about him that would completely turn me off, then I might be able to forget the whole thing altogether. I wouldn’t have to worry about going to the hotel to meet him, to sleep with him, and possibly have the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life. It wouldn’t take much—maybe something like he was a momma’s boy or he was a cheapskate or maybe he talked with his mouth full, anything that might help me stop obsessing over him.
I went to get my phone, and once again started stalking Dr. Michael Pratt. After an hour of poking around, I landed on his Facebook page. It was set on private, so I couldn’t see much, just a few older photos. None of them revealed any major flaws, until I came upon a picture of him with his arm around a beautiful woman’s shoulder. They were both smiling and looked like a couple, a close couple, which made me wonder if she was his g
irlfriend—the girlfriend he said he didn’t have. That was it. I’d found the flaw I’d been looking for. I should’ve been thrilled. I could finally stop acting like some crazy, off-balanced stalker and move on with my life, but I was disappointed. It felt good to be wanted by such an attractive, charming man and to want him in return, but just like that, someone popped my big red balloon.
With a heavy heart, I rolled to my side and place my phone down on the bedside table. Just as I had turned back to watch the end of my movie, I heard it vibrate against the table. I reached for it, and when I looked at the screen, I saw a message from a number I didn’t recognize. I had no idea who it was until I read the message.
Unknown:
I can’t stop thinking about you.
It was him. Damn. I couldn’t believe he was actually messaging me. I wanted to come up with a clever response, like maybe you should be thinking about your girlfriend instead of me, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Besides, I honestly had no idea who the girl was or when the picture had been taken. I decided to let it go and just take a chance:
Me:
Is this you?
Michael:
Yes. It’s Michael. I got your number from your file. I hope you don’t mind.
Me:
No. I don’t mind, and I’ve been thinking a lot about you, too.
I left off the part where I’d been stalking him online for the past three hours.
Michael:
I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight. I really do hope you will come.
Me:
I’m still thinking about it.
Michael:
What can I do to convince you?
I didn’t know how to respond, and after several minutes of not answering, he messaged again.
Michael:
Grace?
Me:
I’m here. I’m not sure.
Michael:
What are you wearing right now?
I looked down at myself and cringed. There was no way I was going to tell him that I was wearing my favorite pair of sweats and an old t-shirt, so I lied and said the first thing that came to my head.
Me:
A black lace nightie.
I groaned when I saw the words pop up on my screen. I could only imagine what he thought of me wearing a stupid black nightie in the middle of the day, but apparently, he was too caught up in the moment to care.
Michael:
And underneath?
Me:
Nothing.
Michael:
Perfect. Keep that on when you come tonight.
Me:
And what makes you think I’m coming.
Michael:
It’s human nature to be curious, so I’m hoping that will work to my advantage.
He was right. I was curious, beyond curious, and yet again, I found myself actually considering going to that hotel to see him. It was just one night. What could it hurt?
Me:
Oh, I’m intrigued. I don’t think I’ve ever been so intrigued in my life.
CHAPTER 6
Michael
I knew as soon as she left my office, I’d made a mistake. I had no idea how I was going to wait six hours to see her. I thought I was doing the right thing, that it was best to give us both time to think, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. The wait was too long, and my throbbing cock was a constant reminder of my miscalculation. It was torture like no other. I’d tried working out at the gym, pushing myself to the limit, for hours on end. When that didn’t work, I tried taking a long, cold shower, but still found no relief. I’d run out of options, so I ended up going back to the office, thinking I could distract myself with work. But as soon as I walked into the room, I caught the scent of vanilla and lavender, and there was nothing else I could do to get her off my mind.
As I sat at my desk, sorting through all the different files, I could almost feel her presence in the room. I’d find myself looking over at the sofa, hoping I might catch a glimpse of her, but time after time; there was no sign of her. The disappointment got to be too much, and I was overcome with a need to see her. Not knowing what else to do, I turned to my computer and Googled her name. Yes. Guys do that, too. I came across a few articles she’d written, and with each one I read, I became more and more enamored with her. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was also a brilliant writer. After I finished reading, I continued with my search and stumbled upon her Facebook page. My lips curled into a smile when her beautiful face came up on my screen. She was absolutely breathtaking. I’d hoped that seeing her might help calm the beast raging in my boxer briefs, but it only made him hungry for more. Unable to resist the urge, I reached in my desk and pulled out her file. As soon as I spotted her number, I pulled out my phone and texted her. I was pleasantly surprised that she’d responded so quickly, and I was even more pleased when I read her last text:
Grace:
Oh, I’m definitely intrigued. I don’t think I’ve ever been so intrigued in my life.
Me:
Good. That means I’m doing something right.
Grace:
More than you know.
Me:
I’ll see you tonight.
I looked at the clock and noticed that I only had a couple of hours before I needed to be at the hotel. Knowing I had a lot to get done, I shutdown my computer and headed out to my car. I felt like a horny, fucking teenager as I raced to my penthouse apartment. As soon as I got there, I took a shower, shaved, and took care of a little personal grooming. Once I was done, I headed to my closet. I grabbed my black suit and white button-down then carried it back to my room to get dressed. When I was finished, I checked my watch, and my pulse started to race when I saw the time. After a final check in the mirror, I grabbed my keys and headed downstairs.
I had just under a half hour to get a room and make my way over to the bar. Once I’d secured us the Presidential Suite, I walked through the main lobby, shuffling through the crowd, and headed straight to the bar. I hadn’t been sitting there long, when the bartender came over and asked, “What can I get you?”
“A Crown and Coke.”
As he started to pour my drink, he asked, “Can I get you anything else?”
“No. That’s all for now.”
Once he brought my drink over, I took a sip, and then looked down at my watch for the hundredth time. It was ten after eight, and I was beginning to worry that she might not show. I took another pull from my drink; then my anxiousness got the best of me. Seconds later, I found myself peering out into the lobby. As I’d hoped, when I looked around the corner, I spotted Grace coming through the front door. Seeing her took my breath away. She was absolutely stunning, and I was pleased to see that she was wearing a short, black trench coat, cinched tightly around her waist. My imagination ran wild as I thought about what was hidden underneath. Was she wearing that black nightie she’d mentioned, or nothing at all? At that moment, I couldn’t care less what she was wearing. Just knowing she’d decided to come, that she was about to be mine, was all I needed to know.
I went back to the bar and sat down, taking another sip from my drink as I waited patiently for her to approach me. I felt someone brush past me, followed by the smell of lavender and vanilla, and I knew she was there. I turned to my left and found Grace sitting there next to me. With her long blonde hair draped over her shoulder, she smiled nervously as she said, “Hey.”
“You look beautiful.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“Would you like a drink?” I asked as I motioned the bartender over.
“A glass of wine would be nice…or maybe a bottle,” she replied with an anxious giggle. Her eyes skirted around the room, looking everywhere except directly at me.
Sensing that she was feeling nervous, I leaned toward her and placed my hand on her bare knee. “There’s nothing for you to worry about, Grace.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“You’ll see soon enou
gh.” I let my hand drift slowly up her thigh. “I plan to explore and worship every inch of this hot, little body of yours.”
Her breath caught as my fingers slipped under the hem of her coat. “I’m not stopping until your legs are trembling and everyone in this hotel knows my name.”
The pad of my forefinger tapped her inner thigh as I softly ordered, “Grace.”
She quickly glanced around the room, and when she felt certain no one was looking, she uncrossed her legs, giving me further access. My fingers continued to inch closer to her pussy, snaking their way between her legs, and a hiss slipped through her teeth when I finally found what I was looking for. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling when I found that she was already wet. As I leaned toward her, I whispered, “You feel like everything I’ve always wanted.”
CHAPTER 7
Grace
When I walked into the Regency Hotel, my nerves were completely shot. I looked at myself in the lobby’s mirror, one final time, and groaned as I tugged at the belt around my waist, cinching it tight. I knew I wasn’t the first woman to meet a man at a hotel for sex. I also knew I wasn’t the first woman to wear a coat over skimpy lingerie. I had heard the stories, and I’d always marveled at how brave the women in those stories were. They embraced their sexuality and used it as the perfect seduction. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to forget about all my insecurities, and just go for it, so I decided to do just that. But when I left my apartment, wearing nothing but a short trench coat and a tiny, black, lace-trimmed slip, I quickly realized that somewhere along the line, someone failed to mention how awkward and nerve-racking it was to go out into the world wearing so little. Every time the wind blew, not only was my derrière freezing cold, but also I was terrified someone might see that I wasn’t wearing panties. I thought I would die of embarrassment, but as soon as I walked into the bar and saw the way Michael looked at me, it was all worth it.