by Virna DePaul
And still, I thought of Lauren.
Chapter Six
Lauren
When I’d seen him at the bar, my first thought was, you’ve got to be kidding me. My second thought was, of all the bars in Denver… But my third thought was, I’m in trouble. And I’m so fucking glad.
Every time he approached me, every time his touch grazed my skin, every time his eyes locked with mine, it became harder and harder to push him away. I wanted to kiss him. Devour him. Beg him to devour me.
I don’t know if I drank more because of my anger over Samuel’s call or because I knew what I wanted to move past that pain was the one thing I couldn’t have. But I drank nonetheless. And the more I drank, the more flirting with Ryan seemed like a good idea. He’d already proven he respected my boundaries. I could have a little fun, forget about Samuel, forget about being perfect without needs Dr. Lauren Decker, and then when I was ready to go home, I could call an Uber and pretend like this night never happened.
Only toward the end of the night, when I found myself outside on the patio, I was finding it difficult to make the phone call for that Uber. I wanted to stay and say it, just once. Just damn once.
Acceptable.
It would be oh so acceptable to me, Ryan Castle, if you made my mind go blank, just for a little while, of everything but pure physical pleasure.
Feeling myself on the verge of finding Ryan right then and there, I called Bonnie. At first, she sounded hurt I’d gone out clubbing without her after turning down her invitation to go out earlier. But as soon as I told her about Samuel’s call, she got it. She understood how dark my thoughts and needs had been.
“Do you need me to come pick you up?” she asked sweetly.
“No, I need you to talk some sense into me.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, there’s a very hot younger man here, one who works for me at the hospital, and he wants to hook up.”
“Holy shit. How does he work for you?”
“He’s a new resident the hospital is courting. He’s visiting for a month to observe.”
“Then he technically hasn’t been hired by Graton’s yet.”
“Technically no, but—”
“But nothing. Do you think he’ll use it against you, if you sleep with him?”
“Honestly, no. He’s proven himself to be professional. But it wouldn’t be right.”
“It would be completely right for the only person that matters, and that’s you.”
“Bonnie—”
“Come on, Lauren,” she said. “Samuel was a dick. And do you know how you get over dicks?”
I hesitated, then muttered, “With dick?” The temptation to see, and touch, and taste Ryan’s dick burned between my thighs.
“With dick. Now do you have a drink in your hand?”
I looked down at my martini glass. “Yes.”
“I want you to raise it and repeat after me. ‘To dick. To young dick. To young hot dick.’ You deserve it. If he’s as good at respecting boundaries as you say, then go for it. You deserve to have a life outside of work, Lauren, and he can give you that. At least for one night.”
“One night,” I repeated, and all of a sudden, the idea of one night with Ryan didn’t seem so ludicrous.
The image of my signature on the divorce papers formed in my mind. I remembered the feel of the pen in my hand, heavier than I thought a simple pen should be. I remembered how quiet the room had been as they waited.
“We can give you some time if you’re having doubts,” my lawyer had said, gently laying a hand on my shoulder.
I looked up to see the pity in his eyes and with nothing more than a glance to make sure I was somewhere near the line I scribbled my name, stood up, and left. At the time, I’d felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. Samuel—a cardiac surgeon—had done that to me. Left me without a heart, or at least, left me with a broken one.
And part of me had never been the same since.
I wanted to be myself again. I wanted to reclaim the power that Samuel had taken from me. To banish the wayward thoughts that had me feeling like I was a failure—not enough of a woman to keep my husband from straying with another. I wanted, quite simply, a hard, fast fuck with a man who could make me shout his name as I came.
I wanted Ryan, and damn it, for once I was going to get what I really wanted.
I grinned, raised my drink, and tipped it against an imaginary glass. “To dick.”
“Hey, I’ve got a dick,” a man called.
Bonnie obviously heard because she giggled. I giggled, too, then I said goodbye to Bonnie and headed out to find Ryan.
I made my way inside and scanned the bar, which wasn’t as packed as it had been. I looked at the entrance just in time to catch him leaving before the door to the bar closed. I cursed my heels as I hurried through the bar and toward the waiting car as he got into the back seat. I barely had time to think, “This is crazy, Lauren,” and “I don’t care, I want him,” before my hand was on the handle of the car door and my ass was in the seat next to him.
My breaths ragged and harsh sounding, I stared at him. Then I whispered one word. “Acceptable?”
He stared back at me. No expression on his face. Silent for so long that my face flushed with embarrassment. Oh, God. What had I done? I reached for the door handle to make my escape, but froze when he spoke, his voice so male and timbery and deep it made me shudder.
“Acceptable.”
* * *
A half hour later, we stood in the darkness of his Air B&B rental after he closed the door and locked it. There was a hesitation of silence, a stillness in our breathing, a sliver of time when the second hand on the clock hanging on his wall paused. Then we crashed together.
The hands that I’d only imagined against my body were there, searing the skin of my wrists as he pinned them against the wall above my head. The mouth I’d been forced to watch from afar the whole week was against my throat, teeth skimming across my jugular like some wild animal. The chest from the dating app picture, chiseled and firm and strong, was now pressing into me, crushing my breath and replacing it with the thud, thud, thud of his own.
I leaned my head against the wall, giving him full access to nip and suck. My hands tugged desperately at his shirt, eager to burn from the heat underneath. But then he stepped back, leaving me to sag with legs that no longer seemed interested in, or capable of, supporting my weight.
He reached back and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled it over his head, then tossed it across the living room floor. But he didn’t stop there. As I gawked at the perfection of his torso, he kicked off his shoes and then undid the button of his pants. Without a word, he pulled them off. He stood there in just his boxer briefs, dick straining against the cotton, and stared at me. When my eyes finally traveled from the impressive length of his erection, along his washboard abs straight out of a movie, past his massive pecs, and up to his face, I found him grinning. He nodded at me.
“Your turn.”
When I first met Samuel in medical school it was all a rush whenever our shifts aligned and happened to leave us with twenty minutes of coinciding free time. It was clothes flung off in a hurried desperation to be naked as soon as possible. Never did he stand there and demand to watch me slip a skirt down my hips, a shirt from my shoulders. And after we graduated and got married? Well, when it happened it involved a quick pull of the pants and if I was lucky he’d take off his socks before passing out on top of me when he came. This was all new to me. This was all frighteningly intimate. This was all making my heart pound and my palms sweat and my thong drip.
“Your turn,” he repeated, his hand twitching toward the outline of his cock constrained in his boxer briefs, but remaining still at his sides.
I reached my arm around my neck to the single tie that held my blouse together, but as I started to tug at it he stopped me.
“Slowly.”
The lust in his voice ignited a fire between
my legs. The string between my fingers, I paused.
“Tease me,” he whispered.
My chest fluttered. I pulled as slowly as my quivering fingers could go. It was a tease for him, but it was a tease for me, too. I wanted to be naked. I wanted him to see me, the way I saw him in the still dark hallway. I wanted him to look at me the way I knew I was looking at him.
“Tempt me.”
Ryan bit his lip as his hand again flinched toward his crotch. With a groan, he moved it up and down over the line of his dick, close, but never touching. His head fell back when I tugged the tie an inch further. I could feel the knot coming loose.
“Torture me.”
His eyes on me, I held the blouse against my chest with just the string. Slowly, I lowered it, revealing more and more skin as the silk slid further and further down. Ryan’s hands clenched at his sides when the shirt fell from my right breast. The twitch of his dick told me all I needed to know: he liked what he saw. His desire only fueled my own.
I ran the line of my pinky down between my heaving tits and then let the blouse finally fall to the floor between us. As Ryan watched silently, hungrily, I leaned my shoulders against the wall behind me and pushed my hips forward. My fingers started at the zipper in the back of my skirt and moving past each tooth felt like an eternity. I wanted to tear the material away from my body and leap into Ryan’s arms and feel his cock thrust deep inside of me, but the look on his face as I eased the zipper down achingly slow stopped me.
Now unzipped, I took a step closer to Ryan so we were no more than two feet apart. I could see his struggle to resist touching me play across his face. As seductively as I could, I shimmied my hips to get the skirt down then stepped out of the skirt pooled at my feet, placing myself, wearing only my heels and my black lace thong, within a foot of him.
As we stared into each other’s eyes the realization that I was standing almost butt ass naked in front of a resident at my hospital who was more than ten years younger than me hit me. What was I doing? No matter how Samuel’s phone call had angered me, I shouldn’t be here. I moved my arm to cover my bare chest, but Ryan’s hand darted out and caught my wrist before I could.
“Walk to my bedroom,” he said, his voice commanding. “Second door on the right.”
He raised my hand to his lips for a gentle kiss before giving me a firm slap to my ass.
“Walk.”
I’d never felt so wet from a single word in my entire life. I stepped forward and looked over my shoulder to watch my hand slip from Ryan’s grasp. He looked me up and down, from my heels to my hair. He licked his lips and I grinned before continuing down the hall. My legs threatened to shake and I swore even his neighbors could hear the thundering of my heart, but I’d never felt such a sexual thrill so I kept walking till I reached his bedroom: the second door on the right.
I stood just inside his room, uncertain what to do next before I felt hands on my waist and kisses down my goosebump covered neck.
“What do you want?” he whispered.
My eyes fluttered shut when one hand slid up to my breast and the other teased the lace trim of my thong.
“Hmm?” he asked, pinching my nipple to get my attention.
“What do you mean?” I asked breathlessly.
There was a little laugh in my ear.
“I mean,” he said, fingers tracing around my clit over my panties, “you must have a way you like it best. On your knees. Pressed against the wall, ass in the air. In the shower. You on top, riding my cock as I fuck up into you.”
I leaned against his chest as my knees nearly wobbled. Samuel never liked me on top. He said it took too long. Said it didn’t feel as good for him. He liked two minutes of missionary and then a nap. Fuck him.
“I want to be on top,” I said, my voice more confident than I was expecting.
Ryan’s dick twitched against my ass in response and he nipped at my earlobe.
“I was hoping you would say that. Stay right there.”
He moved away from me and I nearly fell over. He kicked off his boxers and retrieved a condom from his nightstand. I caught my first look at his bare dick freed from its constraints and got slightly nervous. Fully hard and already leaking precum, he was huge.
But soon he was back behind me and he was kissing his way down my back before kneeling. I gasped when I felt his teeth scraping against my ass as he bit my thong and dragged it down my legs in his mouth. While down there he paused to lick a wet, hot line along my pussy and my thighs contracted instinctively.
Ryan stood up and lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed, my legs locked around his waist. He eased himself onto the sheets and then I was in his lap, staring into his eyes. His thumbs rubbed comforting circles against my back as he waited. It was clear the next move was mine. He was asking if I wanted this. He was asking if I wanted him.
I placed my hands on his chest and with one more glance at his eyes that hadn’t left my face, I pushed him gently back onto the bed. His hands glided down my skin to hook under my hip bones as I sat up enough to reach back and slowly stroke his rock hard erection. His eyes fell closed when I twisted my palm over his head. I did it again and again till he was nearly panting.
Gripping his cock at the base I lined it up with my soaking wet folds and sank down on it with my breathing heavy and eyelids hooded. My thighs quivered as I remained motionless and I took in the pleasure of being filled. I looked down at Ryan and the muscles in his arms were shaking from keeping himself still. I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips before finally lifting my hips.
I didn’t have much practice riding a guy, but with Ryan’s hands guiding my hips and my body chasing the blooming pleasure I was quickly moving easily up and down on his dick. I steadied myself with my hands back on his thighs and my head fell back as my tits bounced wildly. Moans I couldn’t control escaped my lips and I whimpered as Ryan started to lift his hips as well, driving his dick deeper and deeper inside of me. One of his hands moved from my side and I started to protest, but then moaned even louder instead when he circled his fingers around my clit.
The stimulation drove me to the edge and I looked down at Ryan, my hair falling into my face.
“I’m going to come,” I gasped, digging my nails into his thighs.
He pulsed his fingers against my clit to the rhythm of me riding his cock and him thrusting up into me and it was all so much that before I knew it my orgasm crashed over me. I shoved my fist into my mouth to mute my scream as I bounced desperately, never wanting the intense pleasure to end. When I finally opened my eyes, I found Ryan looking at me in awe.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “That was beautiful.”
His pace had slowed as he allowed me to come down slowly. I smiled and went to roll over so he could get on top to come, but he held me still.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, I… Don’t you want to come?”
“Of course.”
He thrust hard up into me as if to prove his point.
“I thought it was hard to get off with a girl on top,” I said, remembering Samuel’s words.
“Whoever told you that,” Ryan said, his voice suddenly serious, “clearly never had you on top. Fuck, I’ve been trying not to come since the moment I was inside of you.”
“Really?”
I rolled my hips and he grit his teeth.
“Really.”
“You want me to keep riding your cock then?” I asked.
He groaned. “Fuck, yes.”
“You want to watch my pretty tits bounce for you?”
I started to move again, slowly, torturously.
“Goddamn, Lauren.”
“You want to come inside of me with your fingers leaving bruises on my hips?”
His hands moved back into place and he squeezed tightly, making me moan. “Please,” he whispered.
I raised myself up and down on his cock and watched his face to see what took him apart. I wanted to fuck him like no one else.
I wanted to give him pleasure like no one else. I wanted to watch him come harder than anyone else had ever made him come.
“I’m close,” he said.
Sweat glistened on his chest and I rode him harder, even as my legs burned and my breath came in little gasps.
“Yes, Lauren, yes. Fuck, fuck, fuck yes.”
I pounded down on him one final time and he held me still as his hips stuttered underneath me and he came, buried deep inside of me. He wrapped his still shaking arms around my neck and pulled me down against his chest to kiss me. Sweat against sweat, skin against skin, lips against lips, we became one.
Chapter Seven
Ryan
Monday morning, my alarm hadn’t even announced it was six AM before I was lacing up my sneakers and grabbing my keys to drive to the gym. I worked out hard, then showered, had breakfast and drove to work all in record time.
Lauren and I hadn’t talked since she’d left almost immediately after we fucked in my apartment. She’d given me about five minutes of holding her, of thinking that it felt so damn right, her being in my arms, before she’d scrambled up and started dressing, telling me what had happened had been a horrible mistake and would I please, please forget it and let things go back to the way they had been between us.
The entire time, I’d watched her, wanting to tell her it hadn’t been a mistake. That it had been fucking fantastic and that we should do it again and again and again. But I’d kept quiet, partially because she seemed so upset already and I didn’t want to make it worse, but mostly becase I was feeling a bit suckerpunched and concerned myself.
Before and after Callie, I didn’t do connections. I didn’t do long term. I didn’t do thinking and worrying and daydreaming about a woman. I did one night stands. I did ‘that was fun’. I did move on, always move on. Despite knowing better, despite how Callie and I working at the same hospital in New York and making things personal had ended in disaster, I was terrified I’d see Lauren again and not want to move on.