Yes, Doctor

by Katy Connor

  90 percent.

  Okay, maybe 80 percent. Oh hell, maybe I didn’t close it. Maybe I had been too busy thinking about Tal?

  Does he have any idea what he’s done to me? Or is he at work, at the hospital, carrying on as if the world is still the same as it was before he heard me through the open balcony door?

  And more to the point, what do I do about it?

  I didn’t come here for a relationship, but do I want to spend my every waking minute craving hot sex with my neighbor? Is it possible to screw him out of my system?

  The next time you feel the need to use your vibrator, beautiful, knock on my door.

  His words, his instruction whispers through my head, bringing with it fresh heat and need in my core.

  What if it’s a mutual screwing? What if we just…fuck? No strings attached?

  I stare toward the direction of Hardrock, my heart racing.

  Knock on my door.

  Am I that brave?

  Chapter Five

  TAL

  An emergency heart operation brings me to All Saints Medical Center before eight in the morning. The distraction is good, what I need, in fact. If I slept, it was fitfully. My morning hard-on mocked me as I quickly showered, as did the fact Bia hadn’t knocked on my door after I walked out of her condo. The fact she wasn’t currently naked and sated in my bed also unnerved me. Why the fuck had I walked out of her home again?

  Ah, that’s right. Because I want her so fucking much I’m worried I’ll scare her off.

  Hurrying through the hospital’s corridors now, heading for prep, I discuss the operation and the reasons for it with my team. I trust them, not only with the lives of those I’m operating on, but also with my own life and reputation. They’ve never let me down, and I have complete faith they won’t this time.

  The surgery—an atrial septostomy on a female infant—takes longer than expected, but when I finally step back from the table for my team to close up, I’m a charged wire. As always after surgery, the rush of saving lives, of defying nature, courses through me. Normally, I feed the rush by pushing the laws of physics on my Ducati on the quiet roads winding up in the Colorado mountains surrounding Hardrock.

  “Is there anything I can help you with, Doctor Bernadi?” a nurse asks as I head toward my office.

  “Coffee,” I growl without slowing my pace. Would it be wrong of me to head back to my condo? To see if Bia’s there? Or should I go to the animal shelter where she works?

  No. Neither is an option. She has to come to me. Knock on my door.

  And then I’ll make her come again and again.

  I spend a few minutes checking in with the Chief Doctor of Neurology, Scarlet Davis, about a patient, and then high-tail it to my office.

  I’m still buzzing, from the op and from my preoccupation with Bia. I spend longer in the shower attached to my office than usual. I ignore my hard-on. As the sun broke the eastern horizon this morning, I promised myself no one but Bia would deal with any erection I had going forward. It’s fucking torture. It’s too easy to picture her in the shower with me, kneeling at my feet, the wild woman she tries to restrain glinting in her eyes, her lips curled in shy but playful smile, her long, slender fingers feathering a tentative path up and down the length of my erect cock, teasing my balls…

  Fuck, this line of thought is going to kill me.

  Stepping out of the shower, I punish my body with a towel and waste no time re-dressing.

  A knock on my office door stills my movement and my breath.

  I walk out of my private bathroom and rest my ass and my hands on my desk’s edge. “Yes?”

  Why am I on edge? Why am I expecting Bia to cross the threshold?

  The door opens and Bennett Stirling strides in. The Chief of Surgery is not wearing his customary three-piece suit, and his dark hair isn’t immaculately combed, so I know he’s off the clock. “What are you doing here?” The disappointment sliding through me that he’s not Bia pisses me off. “Aren’t you off skiing somewhere?”

  Bennett chuckles, crosses to the small sitting area located in front of my office’s main window, and drops into one of the armchairs. “I had an emergency call in.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Go okay?”

  He nods, crosses his hands behind his head, and studies me. “Who’s Bia?”

  I blink. “What do you mean, who’s Bia?”

  He chuckles again. “I watched your atrial septostomy from the peanut gallery. An hour in, you muttered something about betting your hands would impress someone called Bia.”

  A lump settles in my throat. I grip the edge of my desk, remaining motionless. I speak about three topics and three topics only while operating: the current European Soccer season, James Bond films, and the operation itself. A quirk to be sure, maybe even a superstition, but unless it falls into one of those three topics, it isn’t uttered while I perform.

  Never, in all my years as a surgeon, have I spoken about anything else.

  Fuck. Bia Adams truly is under my skin. So soon.

  What do I do about it?

  Pushing myself from the edge of my desk, I give Bennett a relaxed smile. “Just someone I had fun with last night.” She’s so much more, but I’ll be fucked if I’m going to let him know that. Bennett’s a shark. A good guy, a brilliant surgeon, but a shark. He thrives on competition, challenges, and seducing women. Every fiber in my being rebels at the thought of Bennett knowing about Bia.

  A dark jealousy whips through me. If I ever introduce them, my seed will still be trickling from her wet pussy. My saliva will still be glistening on her throat, on the brand I’ll have just given her there with my mouth…

  Fuck, what is she doing to me?

  “You okay, Bernadi?”

  I suck in a sharp breath, jerked back to my office.

  Bennett frowns. “You groaned. And you look…” He arches an eyebrow. “Well, you look like you’re five seconds away from fucking blowing your load.”

  “The post-op high,” I suggest, dragging my hands through my hair. Hell, I need to control myself.

  He narrows his eyes. “Okay. Sure. I don’t believe you, but whatever you say. How ’bout we grab a beer across the road. I hear Gus has a new German import on tap. Or we can share a bottle of Chivas and brag about who’s the better surgeon.”

  I laugh. A drink is exactly what I need. It’ll keep me away from Bia. Keep my mind off how much I want to make her moan with raw, open pleasure. How much I want to gaze into her eyes as she comes over and—

  Someone knocks on my office door.

  Bennett arches another eyebrow. Another one of my well-known quirks is no one disturbs me in my office after surgery unless someone’s life is in the balance, and if that’s ever the case, a phone call comes first. Only two people are allowed to break that rule. I’ve already seen Scarlet today, and the other person is currently sitting in one of my armchairs, smirking at me.

  Bennett settles himself more into the chair with a chuckle. “This is going to be fun.”

  “Come in,” I instruct, teeth ground.

  My door opens, and I forget how to breathe.

  Bia stands on the other side.

  My heart smashes into my throat, joining my breath already caught there. My body reacts, instantly. Almost painfully. The erection I’d ignored in the shower returns, harder than before.

  She’s wearing a soft pale-blue sundress with a deep V-neck that shows off her fucking incredible cleavage and highlights her lush body. My mouth waters, my brain remembering how perfect her nipples feel against my tongue and teeth.

  I want nothing more than to strip the dress from her body, spread her out on my desk, and eat her out. Part her pink pussy lips and suckle on her clit. Make her come with my mouth. Brand her inner thighs with it. Brand her as mine. Again.

  Our eyes meet, and my heart slams faster in my throat. There’s a question in their blue depths, and a hint of the wild woman she keeps hidden.

  Fuck, she’s going to be the en
d of me.

  She takes one step into my office, watching me. “You told me to knock on your door.”

  The next time you feel the need to use your vibrator, beautiful, knock on my door. Do you understand?

  Those had been my words to her last night.

  Knock on my door.

  I’d also warned her that when she did, I’d fuck her within an inch of her life.

  I take a step and stop at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

  Shit. Bennett is still here. I’d forgotten all about him. What blood I had in my brain is surging to my dick instead, swelling it harder, fuller, than ever.

  Dragging my stare from Bia, I fix my attention on the Chief of Surgery. “If you don’t mind, Ben.” He despises being called Ben, but he knows me well enough to recognize it as a dismissal rather than a provocation.

  Sliding his gaze to Bia, he takes his time checking her out. Bastard. Would I be overreacting if I smashed my fist into his jaw? Most likely, but if he doesn’t stop looking at her…

  Bia tilts her chin at him, even as her cheeks turn a delicate pink. “You can look all you like, but you can’t touch. I’m here for Tal.”

  Jesus, does she know she’s just sealed her fate?

  No way she’s getting out of my office now without my cum inside her.

  My gut twists at the caveman thought, but it doesn’t stop me from balling my fists as I throw a look at Bennett. “See you later, Stirling.”

  Bennett appraises me, gaze inscrutable, and then slowly rises to his feet. “Post-op high, eh?”

  I clench my jaw.

  He rakes one more look over Bia, crosses to where she stands just inside my door, and takes her hand in one of his. Lifts it to his lips. “It was lovely to meet you, Bia.”

  He’s baiting me. I’ll make him suffer for this somehow later, and with the way he shoots me a mischievous grin a heartbeat before his lips press to the back of Bia’s hand, he knows it.

  Bastard.

  “My door,” he says, lowering her hand from his lips but not releasing it, “is always open. You don’t have to knock.”

  She’s mine. The possessive words form in my head, and for a split second my heart stops. I’m not interested in a relationship, but still, the thought of her with anyone else, in any capacity…

  I swallow, watching them both.

  “Thank you,” she says, smiling at Stirling as she retracts her hand from his fingers. It’s ridiculous how relieved that simple action makes me feel. “I’m satisfied with the doctor I’ve picked, though.”

  He chuckles and grins my way. “You can’t blame a man for trying, Bernadi. Have fun.”

  He leaves, pulling the door to my office shut behind him.

  It’s just Bia and me now, standing silently, regarding each other with barely a few feet between us.

  I can’t move. I know when I do there will be no coming back.

  Cheeks growing pink, she traces her tongue over her bottom lip and meets my gaze. “You said if I knocked on your door again you’d—”

  I destroy the distance between us and ram her to the door, pinning her there with my hips. “Fuck you within an inch of your life.”

  A hitching laugh escapes her. “Go for it.”

  Chapter Six

  BIA

  Just like I imagined him doing the entire drive here, he crushes my mouth with absolute possessive domination. I tangle my fingers in his hair, aching for it all. Hell, I’m already on fire.

  With a growl, he yanks my hands away, snaring my wrists and pinning them to the door above my head.

  He tongue-fucks me. There’s no other way to describe it. His tongue invades my mouth, assaults my mouth, and I burn even hotter. So good. This is so good. Waves of giddy pleasure crash through me as he grinds the rigid pole of his cock against my lower belly and stretches my arms higher above my head.

  “Mine,” he growls against my lips. “You’re mine, Bia.”

  I whimper at the raw lust in his voice, at the fraying control in it.

  Empowered. That’s the only word I can think of as he kisses me. Is it wrong to feel that way? I can’t help it. No one has ever made me feel so sexy, so…so…wanted before. Wrapping my left leg around his hip, I rub my pussy along the jutting ridge of his erection.

  He groans, capturing both my wrists in one hand so he can explore my body with the other. He palms my left breast, and I can’t help but arch into his rough touch.

  With a nip at my lips, he lifts his head, just enough to find my eyes with his. “Fucking hell, beautiful, you’re not wearing a bra.”

  “I didn’t want it to get in the way.”

  His eyes close at my flirty statement—when did I get so good at this?—and he pinches the beaded form of my nipple. Hard.

  “Oh yeah!” I arch into the far-from-gentle caress and pull him closer with my heel, digging it into the small of his back.

  “I love how you give yourself over,” he murmurs as he drags his hand from my breast, down to my waist, my hip, the back of my raised thigh.

  Bunching up my skirt, he slips his fingers completely over the curve of my ass and breaks away from our kiss when his fingertips encounter my bare, no doubt wet, folds.

  “You’ve come into my office without panties?” He sucks in a slow, steadying breath, playing his finger over my slick seam.

  “I…” My cheeks grow hot and I look away, biting my lower lip. Where the hell has all the bravery that made me wriggle out of my panties in my car before coming into the hospital gone? “I thought you might l-like it.”

  “I fucking love it.” His nostrils flare. He strokes a firm, steady finger over my clit, sending fresh ribbons of pleasure unfurling through my core. “But tell me what you want?”

  I hitch in a shaky breath, a horde of nervous butterflies stirring in my stomach. Am I ready for the next level? After all these months of fantasizing about it? Am I? “Ummm…”

  Tal chuckles, the sound low and somehow smug and sexy at once. “Lick it?” He rolls his fingertip slowly over my clit. “Fuck it with my fingers?” He parts my folds and strokes his finger over the entry he’s exposed, and then up to my clit again.

  I let out a shaky moan—I don’t know if I can take any more, it’s so good, so intense—and roll my hips. I want him inside me. Deep inside me. I want him pounding into me. I can’t help it. “Tal…”

  “Fuck it with my tongue?” He pinches my clit, and concentrated pleasure blasts through me.

  Can a girl die from pleasure overload?

  “Tell me,” he commands, nibbling a path up the side of my throat to the dip just below my ear.

  “Your…your c— Your dick.” There it is. Out there. I’ve said it.

  His cock pulses against my inner thigh, and he groans, burying his face in the side of my neck for a heartbeat. “Bia…” he breathes before nipping his way up to my temple, fingering my clit as he does. “My cock is so hard for you, more than I think it’s ever been, but I can’t give it to you now. Not until you’ve come for me at least once.”

  No. No no. I shake my head, frowning. “Please, Tal…”

  With a strangled growl, he steps backward, his hands slipping from my body.

  “W-what…” Before I know what I’m doing, I’m reaching for him.

  With a shake of his head, and a small, devilish smile, he crosses to his desk.

  I can’t move. I watch him, all too aware I’m sucking in breath after shaky breath. Every fiber of my body is craving what he’s yet to give me. It’s as if I can’t function without him touching me, holding me, in some way.

  “Every Christmas,” he says, rounding the corner of his desk, “the hospital’s attending physicians and surgeons partake in a Secret Santa gift exchange.” He leans down and opens a drawer, raking a hungry gaze over me as he does so. Does he have any idea, any clue how horny that look makes me?

  “The goal,” he says reaching into the drawer, “is to give the most outrageous gift.”

  He withdraws a
long, polished-mahogany rectangle-shaped box, and my heart thumps faster. What’s in it? And why am I already excited?

  “My present last year,” he continues, stroking his fingertips over the box’s lid, “given to me by the very…let’s say debauched Dr. Bennett Stirling, was this.”

  He places the box on his desk and opens it.

  The sunlight streaming through his office window glints off the smooth glass surface of what’s inside.

  My mouth turns dry. Is it what I think it is?

  He gently picks up the object and holds it at eye level, admiring its form and beauty.

  Holy fuck, it is. I gasp.

  A glass dildo.

  My nipples pucker into painful tips. Heat floods my cheeks. “Was that the winning gift?”

  He laughs. “It was.”

  He trails one finger up its length.

  Catching my bottom lip with my teeth, I follow the path of his finger. The glass dildo is twelve inches at least. Maybe even longer. And so thick. So…

  My sex constricts again; squeezing a cock that isn’t there. Yet.

  “Designed to give pleasure,” he says, studying the glass length, “and at the same time be aesthetically exquisite. It’s never been out of its box.” His dark eyes meet mine. “Until now. Perhaps I knew one day the object of my most feverish sexual fantasies would come to visit me here, offering herself and her body to me?”

  I’m going to come just listening to him speak. How can I be this aroused? This turned on? I’m not even scared, just hungry for the thing in his hand and the desire in his eyes.

  Slowly walking back to where I’m still standing with my back pressed to the door, he inspects the toy once again. “I would like to make you come with it, beautiful.”

  My stare fixed on the dildo, I suck in a ragged breath.

  He stops a mere foot away from me. “I’m your sexual servant, Bia. I won’t take you until you ask me to.”

  My blood roars in my ears. My heart smashes in my throat. I can’t tell if this is fear or anticipation. Both? I don’t care.

  All I know is I want it.

  I reach out, my fingertips almost touching the glass, and then I pull my hand back.