by Katy Kaylee
“You’re hardly dumping, Ro…Veronica,” Ted replied. “And I wouldn’t mind if you did. If you need a bit of moral support, hey, I’m here.”
The wine arrived, and Ted poured us each a glass. “Here, let’s toast to the future, to something positive. You’re going to be a mother. You always wanted that. I remember you picked out baby names and wrote them in your diary.”
“The diary you weren’t supposed to see.”
“You had it wide open in front of me, I couldn’t help seeing a little.”
I laughed, and this time it felt more genuine. “All right, you win that argument. But just that one.”
Ted raised his glass. “Here’s to being… here’s to baby-making, in all of its forms.”
“Oh, you must be an expert on that…in all of its forms.”
Ted, who had been taking a sip of his wine, choked and had to thump himself on the chest. “I’m definitely skilled in at least one of them,” he said, winking at me.
“I seem to remember you knowing one or two things.”
“One or two? C’mon, give me a little more credit here.”
“Would you…” I cleared my throat. “Would you ever consider being a parent?”
When we’d been in high school, Ted hadn’t been sure. He’d wanted one, but he hadn’t known if he could really handle the reality of it. The way that his father had been with him - it had scared him. He’d been terrified of ending up the same way. I could remember holding his hand through panic attacks, on the rare occasions that he got them.
We’d been more than each other’s romantic partners - we’d been each other’s safe places.
Ted nodded. “I know, I know, I wasn’t sure. But I got counseling in college. My best friend had to yank me there, I put up a hell of a fight.” He gave me an amused smile. “She helped me to work through a lot of my issues about my parents and I’d like to be a father. Hopefully soon… but I have to find the right partner first.”
“I’m so proud of you,” I told him, and I meant it. “That must have been hard to work through all of that. God, I remember…” I shook my head. “Never mind.”
“You mean you remember what a mess I was?” Ted shrugged. “It’s okay, you can say it. Remember when you stitched up that cut on my eyebrow?”
“You refused to go to the hospital!” His father had thrown a beer bottle at his head.
“Ah you did a great job.”
“I was so scared I’d mess it up,” I said, laughing. “Oh my God. We definitely should’ve taken you at least to someone who didn’t have shaking hands the whole time.”
“I think you did okay,” Ted said, pointing at the eyebrow in question. “You can hardly see the scar. And what did you tell me when I got it?”
“Chicks dig scars,” I repeated, laughing. “I found it sexy, for sure.”
“I needed all the help I could get with that.”
“No, you didn’t, I found everything you did sexy.”
“Including the time I stuffed fifteen marshmallows into my mouth?”
“It was fourteen marshmallows, you liar!”
The conversation spiraled from there, talking about other adventures, swapping stories, gossiping about old high school classmates and where they’d ended up. I could freely admit that I wasn’t really in touch with anyone from high school and I was grateful for it.
Ted admitted he wasn’t really in touch with anyone from high school either. “Not that anyone was awful…”
“Oh, c’mon, there were some awful people. I was friends with most of them, you were always telling me to get better friends.”
“True, true, but c’mon, is anyone friends with anyone from high school, really? I mean maybe one or two people if you’re really close but still.”
We ordered a second bottle of wine, and then some tiramisu for dessert. I hadn’t had this much to drink in a while—not that I was plastered or anything, but my budget was tight and so I’d had to cut back on alcohol, which could get pretty expensive. The wine was delicious though and I complimented Ted on the excellent choice. He’d had no clue about wine when I’d known him.
As I got more and more tipsy, though, I kept thinking about what Ted had said - the one flirtatious comment he’d made. I’m definitely skilled in at least one of them.
He had been very skilled, when we were together. I was sure he was even better now. I was burning with curiosity and desire…desire to feel him against me, inside of me, once again. To see just how those fine fingers, that mouth, could really feel.
I was half-tempted to just crawl across the booth and settle into his lap, rip his shirt off, kiss him senseless. I wanted to drag him into the bathroom and have him fuck me against the wall, his hand over my mouth to stifle the moans I made.
Jesus Christ, what was wrong with me? I must’ve had the wine getting to my head more than I’d thought.
Ted insisted on paying the check. “I asked you out to dinner, so I’m paying, that’s how this works,” he told me, winking as he slid his card over to the server.
That sounded… it seemed to straddle the line between a date and a not-date, and I was too worried about messing things up to ask or bring it up. Instead I let him walk me to my car, leaning into him.
“You good to drive?” he asked.
I nodded. The bracing night air cleared my head, and I felt like my normal self again.
Except that the desire for him didn’t go away. I no longer wanted to be so brazen as to fuck him in the restaurant booth in front of everyone, but… I couldn’t stop myself from remembering how in high school, our walking to his car meant that we would’ve climbed into the back seat to make out. I had asked for things to go a bit slow, physically, as much as I had desired him. I’d been nervous. I’d never had a serious relationship before, physically or emotionally.
Ted had of course been understanding, and while it had taken a bit for us to get to the sex, we’d spent countless hours making out together, rubbing all up on each other like cats in heat.
The memory of those times was as strong as if they had happened yesterday. I shivered.
Ted glanced at me. “Cold?”
If only he knew. I was the opposite.
I shook my head. “No, but thanks for asking.”
God, I didn’t want this night to end. I wanted to grab him, and with all of that delicious food inside of me, making me feel warm and sated, and with Ted right here taking care of me, walking me to my car, opening the door for me… I was running out of reasons why I shouldn’t seize what I wanted.
I stepped up to him, smoothing my hands over his chest, and kissed him.
It was a soft, lingering kiss. I wanted more but didn’t dare just go in for that when this was our first kiss in over ten years. My lips caught against his and held, and I felt the shape of his mouth, at once achingly familiar and brand new.
Ted’s hands fell to my hips as we stood there, our lips still pressed together, my eyelashes sweeping across his cheeks as I closed my eyes. It was sweet, and I could taste just the hint of red pepper on his lips from his meal, giving a little zest.
It was everything I’d wanted in a first kiss.
I stepped back, inhaling shakily, my legs trembling. Ted slowly opened his eyes, his lips still half-parted, looking shocked like I’d taken a bag of bricks to his face.
As I stared at him, taking in his surprise, my confidence melted. Oh, God, I had messed everything up. The moments of tension and heat that I’d thought I’d sensed…I was wrong, I was horribly wrong, he only liked me as a friend now. And I mean why should he like me as anything more after what I’d done to him, I’d been ignoring that, pretending that it hadn’t happened but it had, I had broken his heart and been callous and…
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.
Ted stared at me for a moment as if in confusion, and then a determined glint came into his eye and he yanked me back in.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he breathed against my lips right before he
dove in and kissed me.
Really kissed me.
It was the kind of passionate kiss that left me reeling, the kind of kiss that I hadn’t had in years. Chad had long ago stopped kissing me like that, or kissing me at all, really, and even the kisses he had given me at the start of our relationship, although full of passion on his side… they had overwhelmed me and not in the good way. I’d felt like I was being buried in an avalanche.
But this…this was passion that I wanted to meet, passion that I wanted to match. Ted had never been quite this capable of sweeping me off my feet in high school since we were each other’s firsts but now, now he clearly had more experience and confidence, and he was taking no prisoners.
I clutched at his shoulders and opened my mouth to him eagerly, moaning a little as he stroked his tongue against mine. I pressed myself up against him, felt the firm muscle of his body against mine and just about swooned. Ted kept an arm firmly around my waist, holding me close, his free hand sliding into my hair, stroking, just shy of tugging. I’d always liked having my hair pulled when we were having sex. Apparently he’d not only remembered, but had learned how to really tease in the meantime.
God, it felt so good, I wanted…I was breathless, aching, wet, and I wanted him to turn me and fuck me against the car, right here, right now…
Ted pulled away, gasping, as I sucked in a great gulp of air, the breath completely gone from my lungs. My lips tingled, and I found myself reaching up, my fingers brushing over them, as if to make sure the kiss was real.
Ted was staring at me like I was a revelation, but not a welcome one. “I’m sorry,” he said, his chest still heaving, the both of us panting from the kiss. “I crossed a line, I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
“I crossed the line first,” I replied. He didn’t… he didn’t want this. Disappointment settled in my stomach like a hard lump of cement, dragging me down. “It was…too much wine, I guess.”
Ted nodded, a flicker of - something in his eyes. Something I couldn’t identify. It was there and gone in a flash, far too soon for me to figure out what it could be. “Maybe you should call a car to get home, leave this one here for the night. Marco won’t mind.”
I nodded. “Good… good idea.”
“I’ll… I’m going to… I’ll take a walk to, uh, clear my head.” He pointed at his head, giving me an odd smile, and then turned and walked away.
I felt like I should’ve said something. Called out, or run after him, anything - but I didn’t. I didn’t know what I’d say if I did.
Why couldn’t we have gone home together, instead of our separate ways? Why was I really fighting this?
It wasn’t the wine that had gotten to me. It was Ted. Sober, drunk, whatever, it didn’t matter, I wanted him. And as I stood there watching him walk away, I felt my wish, my hope, shifting into resolve.
Maybe he didn’t want to sleep with me. Maybe he didn’t want to see where this attraction went. But I wasn’t going to know until I tried. I had said no relationships but one good roll in the hay to work off this sexual tension, that wasn’t a relationship. I could do that, and I was driving myself insane, he was driving me insane, with this spark between us.
I needed an answer.
And I was going to get myself one.
9
Ted
On Tuesday, I was still reeling from the kiss with Veronica.
God, she was a good kisser. She always had been, at least to my inexperienced teenage mind, but now - she had taken everything I’d given her and flung it right back, pressed herself up against me so that I could feel every one of her soft curves, her sweet mouth opening for me and letting me chase the coffee and chocolate taste from the tiramisu that lingered against her tongue.
Intoxicating was barely enough to describe it. How I had stopped myself from bending her over and fucking her against the hood of the car, I still didn’t know. She had sent all of my blood rushing south, my cock practically jumping to attention, and I’d been so fucking tempted to rip her clothes off.
But then I’d torn myself away with the memory that this was my patient. I was her doctor.
I had crossed a line. When she’d kissed me that first time, I’d…what had I thought that was? An invitation to devour her whole? What the fuck was wrong with me?
Veronica was in me, under my skin, an itch that I couldn’t scratch and she was driving me mad.
She’d said that she’d just had too much wine and that had been why she’d done it. I don’t think I’d ever felt more… disappointment, more frustration, and more relief all at once in my life. I wanted her to come to me and say that it wasn’t the wine, that it was all her, that she desired me just as I desired her.
But - but no. No, she was my patient and it was better this way.
She had made it clear, over a decade ago, that she didn’t want me and I couldn’t let her tipsy decision to relive a moment in high school convince me to break my professionalism or start something with someone who didn’t feel the same way.
God, but I’d touched myself so hard to thoughts of her all weekend. I was being driven insane.
I walked into work, hoping that focusing on my patients would help my head to clear. Not that it’d helped much yesterday, but a man could dream. I didn’t need to see Veronica for an appointment for a while. Perhaps that would give me time to get over her.
My receptionist, Linda, looked up as I entered. “There’s a patient waiting for you in your office, Ted.”
I frowned. “What? Everything okay?” I wasn’t supposed to have anyone in yet.
Linda looked at her papers. “It’s a Ms. DeMarcus, she said it was urgent. She seemed very distressed so I worked her into today’s schedule, I hope that’s all right.”
“Of course,” I managed, even as my words seemed to be strangled in my throat. “We can’t turn away an upset patient, I’ll stop in and see what the problem is.”
We hadn’t even started the insemination process yet. I grabbed Veronica’s chart, reading over everything. She seemed to be normal and healthy… what could possibly be wrong? Had she chosen a donor and wanted my help? Had something come up with her insurance or financing?
I hated the odd leap of hope that my heart took. Of course it would just be something medical-related, but I couldn’t stop myself from being glad to see her again. If only I could erase the taste of her skin and the feel of being inside her from my memory—then this all would be so much easier. It was bad enough to pine after someone, but when I already knew what that person sounded like when she came and the way she writhed helplessly when I rubbed at the underside of her clit…
I nearly had to brace a hand against the wall as my cock throbbed. Jesus Christ, I wanted her so badly. Every endearment she had ever whispered to me when we were teenagers was coming flooding back in crystal clear technicolor. Everything from you feel so good thrusting inside me to I feel safe when I’m with you - the naughty and the sweet - it was all lurking in my ears.
Steady, I told myself. This is a medical problem, she’s not here for any other reason.
As much as I had enjoyed spending time with her, and as amazing as our kiss had been, she had just gotten out of a divorce. She’d only kissed me because she was tipsy, the wine impairing her judgment. She was lonely and we’d been something to each other once, that was all.
I couldn’t delude myself into thinking it would be more than that.
This was a mistake, honestly. Agreeing to treat her.
I never should have… I should have referred her to another doctor immediately. I had thought – foolishly - that I could keep my desire for her under control but I had been wrong, terribly wrong, and now I was stuck.
Veronica wanted me to be her doctor, and I greatly appreciated her faith in me, her trust that I could help her to build the family that she wanted. But I wanted her again, so much so it was all I could think about, a dangerous infatuation that threatened to consume me like some kind of wildfire. Starting a relat
ionship with her could cost me my clinic and my license. Sleeping with one’s patient, that was pretty much at the top of the no-no list for doctors, second only to killing your patients.
The best thing to do would be for me to remove myself from the situation, no matter how much I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep seeing her and having her be my patient was the best excuse for that. After all once I stopped being her doctor what reason would she possibly have to keep seeing me? But I had to put a stop to this. For both of our sakes.
I would tell her that I couldn’t treat her anymore, and I would refer her to a trusted colleague at once. Yes. That was what was best.
When Veronica came in, however, it was for a supposed emergency - that didn’t turn out to be an emergency at all. At least not one that I could fix as a doctor. As a lover, however…
I knew it was wrong as I let her kiss me, as I let her pull me in, but dear God, I was so hard I was aching. I wanted to fuck her until I was blind, until she couldn’t even scream anymore, she was so filled with pleasure. When I dove between her thighs to taste, her I knew I was lost, and I didn’t even care. I wanted her too badly.
Veronica’s hand slid into my hair as I licked into her, swirling my tongue around her clit, then pulling away and teasing by kissing her thighs and running my tongue along her folds. She was so sensitive, shaking, and I almost wanted to pull back and ask when the last time was that she’d had someone do this to her.
I knew the answer, though. Veronica had never said it but I doubted that asshole ex-husband of hers had ever treated her right, ever given her pleasure just for the sake of it. Had she ever even orgasmed with him?
Determined to give her at least a taste to make up for all she had missed out on, I licked into her again and again, until she was clamping down around me with her thighs and I heard her put a hand over her mouth to try and muffle her moans.