by Liz Lincoln
Ten minutes later, they were still in roughly the same position when a short Indian woman came in. Her smile was bright, if a little haggard.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Patel. You must be Bree.” She held out her hand to shake.
Bree took the doctor’s hand and stood in one motion. “Yes, hi. Nice to meet you.”
Dr. Patel might not notice, but Marcus could hear the frantic note in Bree’s voice.
The vet crouched and looked under the exam table. “And this must be Diablo.” She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers in the cat’s direction. Diablo inched farther into the corner, and his next yowl had an extra note of distress.
“Do you think you can get him out so I can examine him?” Dr. Patel asked.
Bree crawled under the table, and with some difficulty, managed to drag the resisting cat out of the corner and lift him onto the exam table.
She held him, or more accurately held him down, while the vet poked and prodded him. Marcus tuned out during the exam part.
“I’m going to take him back and examine him a little further. I’m concerned he might have a urethral block.” Dr. Patel’s face was creased with worry.
So was Bree’s. “Okay,” she said meekly.
Her voice stabbed Marcus in the gut. She was not a meek woman. But he could understand loving a pet like that. They’d had a family dog growing up, and he’d been heartbroken when it died when he was in high school.
They waited another fifteen minutes in a tense silence that felt oppressive after Diablo’s constant howls. Marcus managed to get Bree to sit down with him again and he absently rubbed circles on her back, trying to keep her calm. It seemed only marginally successful.
She seemed far away. Lost somewhere inside her head. He wanted to draw her out but didn’t know how. He liked her, a lot, but he didn’t know her well enough to know how to reach her.
Dr. Patel returned without Diablo, the frown lines on her forehead deeper than before. “Hi,” she said grimly.
Bree immediately sat up taller.
The vet grabbed the rolling stool from across the room and scooted over so she was in front of Bree. “Ms. Novak. Mr. James. As I suspected, Diablo has a blocked urethra. So we’re going to have to keep him overnight and do a procedure on him to remove the blockage.”
Marcus noticed the doctor had used his name, even though he’d never given it to anyone in the clinic. It was weird sometimes, having people know who he was. Fortunately, Bree didn’t seem to notice.
She grabbed his hand and squeezed hard. “Procedure?”
“Yes. We’ll give him general anesthesia, and of course monitor him very carefully. And we’ll give him some pain medication. As I’m sure you can tell, he’s pretty uncomfortable.”
Uncomfortable. Yeah. That was the word Marcus would’ve chosen. How about fucking miserable?
“And what happens if he doesn’t have the procedure?” Bree asked.
“It’s not likely this will resolve on its own. Typically”—Dr. Patel made a face—“the urethra or bladder bursts, which is fatal.”
“So you’re saying basically I have to do this or my cat will die?”
Did she realize her fingernails were digging into Marcus’ hand? Not that he minded. He could take it. If that’s what she needed, he was glad to be there for her. He just wished he could do more.
Dr. Patel’s face looked mournful. “I’m afraid so, yes.”
Bree drew a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “Then what choice do I have? I can’t kill my own pet. Do it.”
Dr. Patel nodded solemnly. “We’ll get started right away. And I’ll have Jeannie come in with your paperwork.”
The silence this time was even more oppressive.
Bree turned to look at him, tears shining in her pretty eyes.
Fuck.
He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.
“He’s gonna be okay. Remember, this is a new experience for you. Hopefully once in a lifetime. But for them, this is routine. The receptionist was able to diagnose him over the phone. That’s how often it happens. He’s in good hands.” He rubbed gentle circles over her back.
“I know,” she stuttered, voice muffled by his shoulder. “But all those other cats, they’re not my baby.”
“I know,” he whispered. “But it’s going to be okay.”
He was a fool to make that promise. But damned if he wouldn’t try to make it true.
*
—
“I just have some forms I need you to sign.” Jeannie, the tech who’d originally shown them into the room, was entirely too perky for the situation. Or maybe it was that Bree was just extra grumpy—so grumpy she couldn’t even fully appreciate Jeannie’s awesome pink hair. But dammit, Bree had a right to her foul mood.
She forced herself to pull out of Marcus’ embrace. She didn’t want to do that either. He’d been so good to her tonight. Even geology homework had to be better than sitting in this miserable room with some crying woman. Yet he’d shown her nothing but patience and kindness.
Jeannie spread the paperwork out on the metal exam table for Bree to look over. She quickly explained what each form was: consent to treat, emergency contact number, privacy practices, typical stuff. Bree filled in her name and phone number so many times it became automatic. Her own name didn’t look right anymore. Her phone number became foreign.
Finally they reached the last piece of paper.
“And how would you like to pay for that?” Jeannie asked cheerfully.
Pay? Oh shit. She hadn’t even thought of that.
“I…I don’t…Do you guys do payment plans?” Bree looked down at the invoice in front of her
Holy shitballs.
She couldn’t afford that. That was a lot of zeros for one feline urethra. On her salary, she simply couldn’t afford bills that contained commas.
“We accept credit cards.” Jeannie smiled brightly.
Bree gaped at the other woman, her mouth going open and shut. She probably looked like a fish.
Did she even have that much room on her credit card balance? Pizza delivery was one thing. This was a whole different ballpark.
Then again, she had the card for emergencies. The pizza hadn’t exactly been an emergency, but this definitely qualified.
Since they’d arrived at the vet, probably more than an hour ago now, the darkness had been slowly encroaching on Bree’s thoughts. Now, faced with yet another roadblock, she could feel her resistance crumbling. She wasn’t sure she could make it until they were safely out of the office before she lost her control.
“Yeah,” she said weakly. “I’ll get it.”
And she would spend the next ten years paying for it.
Chapter 11
Bree wasn’t looking so hot. Well, she looked hot. She always looked hot. But she looked like she might drop at any second. She’d looked bad in the vet’s office, but now, Marcus was genuinely worried.
As they walked up the ramp to her door, he put his hand on her back to keep her steady. Touching her, he could feel her trembling. Her hands shook as she dug in her bag for her keys.
After watching her fumble for a full minute, making ever-more-distressed sounds, he took her purse in one hand and her hand in the other. “Hey.” He kept his voice low and calm. “Bree. Hey.”
She looked up at him, eyes wide, lips parted.
Lust punched him in the gut; he wanted to kiss her more than he ever had, kiss away her fear and worry. But he did his best to ignore the desires.
“Diablo is going to be OK.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then went to work finding her keys.
“I know.” Even her voice shook. “I know he’ll be fine. It’s just…something could go wrong. And it’s so expensive and I don’t know how I’m going to pay off that credit card and my interest rate is ridiculous, and I just—”
He couldn’t stop himself from pressing his lips to her forehead. She was tall enough that he didn’t have to bend down all that much to
reach her. He liked that more than he should. “You’ll figure it out.”
She leaned into him, placing her hand on his arm. “I know. I always do. But the fun part about having anxiety is there’s always this voice saying ‘but what if?’ It’s kinda like the devil and angel on your shoulders. Except instead of telling me to do bad things, this devil tells me all the bad things I should consider.”
He found her keys and handed them to her, along with her purse. “I didn’t know you had anxiety.” Though it made sense. The signs were there.
She made a face. “Yeah. It sucks. I’m an absolute mess without my meds, so at least I have those.”
She held his gaze for a moment that stretched out just a touch too long. Then with a sigh, she turned to unlock the door.
“My sister has anxiety.” He wanted Bree to know he understood, to a degree. And Lil was very open about having it. “The oldest one, Lily. She says it’s like she can never turn off her brain, because she constantly has to argue with it about doomsday scenarios.”
“Yes! Exactly.” Bree switched on the living room light and turned back to him.
Because it was chilly and they were still talking, Marcus stepped inside and shut the door behind himself. He needed to make sure she wasn’t going to spend all night worrying so much she ended up having a panic attack; he couldn’t leave until he knew that. He’d seen Lily do it enough times to know it would be a miserable way for Bree to finish off what had already been a shitty night.
She took off her jacket and hung it in the front closet. “You don’t have to stay around. I’ll be OK. I’m used to this. Though usually Reina makes me tea and distracts me or gives me a massage. Her hands are really strong from wheeling her chair.”
Marcus grinned, holding out his hands and spreading his fingers wide. “I make a living with these babies. I do exercises specifically targeting my hand strength. And if you tell me where everything is, I can probably boil water. I know it’s not as good as BFF girl time, but maybe I can fill in in a pinch?”
She smiled back, though it was still a little shaky. His lust surged, from the potent combo of her smile and the idea of getting his hands on her. He could still feel her soft skin against his lips.
If a back rub helped calm her anxious mind, a couple killer orgasms had to be the perfect way to empty it completely. But she’d made it clear after the benefit that they couldn’t kiss again. Not as long as she was his teacher.
She was right, of course. But he didn’t have to like it.
“I don’t need tea, but thanks. I’ll will take you up on the massage, though.” She held out a hand. “Might as well take off your coat and stay a while.”
An image of him staying so they could get naked and hit the sheets popped into his head.
Shit. Maybe a massage wasn’t a good idea. If he got his hands on her in such an intimate way…
What the hell. Why not lay it all out there?
He put all the hunger he felt into his expression as he looked at her. “On second thought, maybe it’s not the best idea. If we’re not…”
“Oh?” She sounded startled, maybe even hurt. Then her expression shifted as she got his meaning. “Oh.”
“I mean, I can make tea first, if that will…help…” He felt like a jerk. Except he was doing what she’d asked and not trying to sleep with her. “Do you have other things you can do? I don’t want to leave you here if you’re gonna have a panic attack all alone. Does anything else help?”
She bit her lower lip and, damn, was she trying to torture him? Did she realize that made him want to sink his own teeth into that flesh?
“Um, yeah, there are a couple things.” Her gaze dropped so she stared at his chin. “I have another med I can take. It knocks me out, but maybe it’s better if I just sleep. It gives me weird dreams, but that’s OK.”
She was a terrible liar. She didn’t want to take her medication. “You said a couple things? What else?”
“I…uh.” She chewed her lip again.
Marcus couldn’t help it; his dick started getting hard. Not a full-fledged insta-boner. But there was definite growth.
She closed her eyes and it took everything in him not to haul her into his arms and kiss her. Or back her against the wall and slide his body along hers.
“It’s, um, there’s something I can do to myself to clear my mind.” Her voice was strangled.
She finally met his gaze, and the scorching heat reflected there left no doubt she was talking about masturbation.
Insta-boner.
“Bree…” He meant it as a warning, but it came out far closer to a groan than he wanted. But fuck, how was he supposed to stop himself from picturing her naked with a vibrator when she all but told him that’s what she might do when he left?
Before he could back up toward the door, she surprised him by grabbing the unzipped edges of his jacket and pulling him close. Her eyes dipped to his mouth, then back to meet his gaze. Hers was full of want. Desire wrapped around them, a weighty presence filling the room. For a long moment, she looked at him, both of them frozen. Then she surprised him again.
She kissed him.
*
—
Finally. Yes, she finally had Marcus’ lips on hers again. He hesitated briefly, then groaned and wrapped her in his strong arms. His tongue slid along her bottom lip and she opened to him. She didn’t care anymore, not tonight. She wanted everything he would give her, no holding back. She needed it, to keep her anxious mind off the situation with Diablo.
But even more, she wanted this. She wanted Marcus. None of the reasons for turning him down before had changed. But maybe she had, just a little. If Bryant was going to break all kinds of rules, then what did it matter if she broke one and slept with a student? A very atypical student. Just once, just tonight, when she couldn’t stand to be alone.
And this student was such a good kisser. His lips possessed hers, teasing and tasting and arousing and worshiping all at once. His tongue drew patterns on hers that drove her wild, need clawing inside her. He kissed like he did everything: focused, dedicated, and so skilled.
His teeth found a sensitive spot on the inside of her lower lip and she yelped in pleasure. He did it again, and again, and in seconds he had her squirming against him, desperate for any sort of relief.
As they kissed, she slid her hands inside his jacket and shoved it off. It thumped on the floor, a gratifying sound that only made her want more. So she tugged his shirt from his pants and slid her hands underneath to touch his skin.
“Bree,” he moaned, drawing his mouth across her cheek to her jaw.
“Yes,” she gasped, unable to find breath to say more.
“Are we really doing this?” he asked. His lips found an extrasensitive spot on the side of her neck, making her moan.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight.” His skin was so smooth and so hot against her hands. She spread her fingers wide and slid them up his muscled back, enjoying the feel of holding him so close.
“I understand.” His tongue flicked her earlobe, and she shuddered. “But I’m not gonna be able to face myself in the morning if I take advantage of you.”
Bree forced herself to pull back so she could look him in the face. “No one’s taking advantage of anyone. I’m upset, of course. But it’s not like I’ve had a bunch to drink or I’m so out of my mind with worry I can’t make a clearheaded decision. I still know why we shouldn’t do this. But tonight, I don’t care.”
Something she couldn’t read flickered across his face. “What if I do? I don’t want to be the reason you get in trouble at work. I couldn’t stand it if I somehow made you not get your PhD.”
Something swelled inside her, something decidedly nonsexual. But there was no way she was examining that tonight.
“One night. Then we put everything back on hold until after the semester. No one has to know.” When she said it out loud, it sounded awful. Like they were doing something terribly wrong.
It was wrong, in one sense. She wasn’t supposed to sleep with a student. But a large part of that rule existed so professors couldn’t take advantage of young, vulnerable students. Marcus was actually older than her, and while she was responsible for his final grade, in many ways he was just as or more dominant in their relationship. The usual student-teacher power dynamic didn’t apply to them.
And if what they were doing was truly wrong, why did it feel so right? Everything about the way he touched her, the way his lips fit against hers, felt more right than anything else she’d experienced.
“If somehow things fall apart, and I don’t end up getting my PhD, I promise, it will be on my asshole advisor, not you.” She pressed her lips to the base of his throat and teased him with her tongue.
Marcus drew in a sharp breath. “I’m trying to do the noble thing here. Make sure this is really what you want.”
With a sigh, Bree lifted her head to look at him again. “If the noble thing to do is strip me naked, throw me on a bed, and fuck me into oblivion, I’m all for it. Otherwise, I would prefer—”
He kissed her. Hard. Wild. He kissed her with more passion than she’d ever been kissed with in her life. His hands were immediately under the back of her T-shirt, shoving it up to her armpits. She managed to unwrap herself from him so he could yank it up and off. In the brief moment they came apart, her fingers found his belt buckle and started working on that.
They crashed back together with a grunt and were immediately wrapped up in each other. Then, before Bree knew what was happening, Marcus lifted her off her feet and started toward the back of the house.
Toward her bedroom.
As he walked, his mouth never left hers. They feasted on each other, wet, hungry kisses that lead one into the next. Finally, they reached her room. Marcus set her down next to the bed, almost exactly where they’d stood the first time they kissed.
He stepped back, removing himself from her for a moment. His hand went to the back of his neck to grab a fistful of his shirt, but then he stopped.
“Tell me now if I need to go on a condom run. I’m gonna be real unhappy if we realize it later,” he said, a faint smile tempering the gruffness of his words.