The Doctor's Deadly Affair

by Stephanie Doyle

  “Ex-wife,” he clarified, feeling no need to discuss the particulars of his marriage or divorce.

  “I knew all the women you dated from the hospital after you two split. I’m nothing like any of them. They were all…tall and gorgeous and…lively. Fun. So when you asked me out I assumed you had…”

  “Run out of people to date?” He tried to control the irritation in his voice.

  “Something like that.”

  In that sense he couldn’t blame her. She was right. She was nothing like anyone he’d ever dated before. His odd attraction might have made sense if she’d fed him a love potion. Only she didn’t believe in love potions.

  Which meant these feelings were based on something else. He was here, tonight, to find out what.

  “Why did you say yes?”

  It was a trick question. He knew why. He walked toward where she was still sitting on her sofa, her legs crossed at the ankles. The glass of wine, now empty, dangled from her fingers. He could see the flush on her cheeks deepen as he got closer. Could see her pupils dilate. As a physician and superb diagnostician he was trained to look for symptoms and add them up until they gave him the answer.

  Camille averted her gaze. And when he took another step closer, she stood as if to head to the kitchen. To safety. He clasped his hand around her upper arm and squeezed gently. “Why?”

  “I should put our glasses away. And we should be going. Even though it’s Tuesday night, places will still be crowded.”

  “The place I had in mind won’t be crowded. Trust me. Tell me, Camille. Why did you say yes when I asked you out when you thought I was no better than Dade?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she corrected him. “I thought your reasons were similar, but I know you’re not like him. You don’t look at every woman as a conquest.”

  “Thank you for that at least. And you’re right. A man at my age, with what I’ve gone through, I hardly feel the need to conquer anything. I asked you out because I wanted to get to know you. Why did you say yes?”

  She stared at him and he could feel her uncertainty. She didn’t want to believe him and that fascinated him. She was one of the most intelligent, driven and committed women he’d ever met. She was gifted in her talent but had the work ethic to back it up, which made her extraordinary at what she did. Yet here she was so doubtful of herself as a woman that it made him want to scream. Scream at every man who had ever overlooked her because the brain inside was so big.

  “Because I…said yes. But it was awful the first time.”

  It was. The whole evening had been awkward. Conversation was difficult at first. When they finally found something to talk about, it was a topic on which they strongly disagreed. She was condescending, he became surly. When she finally pushed him too far, he snapped and called her a name. Like a ten-year-old he’d reverted to the oldest trick in the book. That’s when she’d thrown the glass of water in his face.

  He’d gone home that night thinking if he never spent five seconds in her company again he would be a blessed man. But when he woke up the next morning he was hard from dreaming about her and he knew that they were not done yet.

  It was there. That magical it that could happen between two people who seemed all wrong for each other, but were drawn together like the moon to the earth. His plan was to bide his time, slowly start talking to her again. Keeping things easy and friendly.

  Ha ha, what a horrible date that was…we should stick to coffee in the future. I’ll make sure mine is iced so as not to cause any damage in case you douse me…ha ha.

  Yeah, he had it all worked out. They could laugh about the date. He could discuss her cases. He would win her back one inch at a time, even if every day he suffered for the want of her.

  All of those good intentions fled when she presented him with a golden opportunity to blackmail her. She needed his opinion and he needed her.

  “It won’t be this time,” he promised as he moved in to place a simple kiss on her neck, just under her ear. He smelled perfume, which he knew she’d worn only for him.

  “You’ll get frustrated with me like you did before.” A sigh caught in her throat.

  He heard it. Knew what it meant.

  “No, I won’t. I’m prepared to be much—” he kissed the other side of her neck “—much more patient.” His mouth dipped to the front of her throat to that tiny swell of soft skin. He could feel every quick breath with his tongue.

  “So where are you taking me?”

  “I’m taking you to the place I should have taken you the first time.”

  “The Cheesecake Factory?”

  Wyatt smiled and in return she gulped, which meant she absolutely knew he had no intention of taking her to the Cheesecake Factory.

  “No, Camille, I am taking you to bed.”

  Chapter 4

  Camille dropped her wineglass on the carpet. “Oh, no.”

  “Leave it.”

  His arms were coming around her and she was falling into his hold. God, she was weak, but when it came to Wyatt Holladay she always felt helpless. The day she first saw him she knew she wanted him. It had been the strangest sensation, as it was really the first time she’d ever felt such instant sexual attraction. She’d had sex in her life. Mostly because she knew it was something people did and she’d gone through a phase in her life when she so wanted to be normal.

  But seeing and wanting someone in a single moment had never happened to her before. Then she’d talked to him, all his easy charm and confident sexuality pouring out, and she knew he would never be hers. She wasn’t the kind of woman who would attract him, and she wasn’t the kind of woman who could convince herself that she was that kind of woman. She’d been almost relieved to find out he was married.

  Because delusional Camille was not.

  This, however, was no delusion. His mouth on her cheek, on her neck, was real. His arms lifting her off the floor, it was really happening.

  “Bedroom.”

  “Down the hall.” She couldn’t believe that she got the words out. Couldn’t believe that she was even considering letting this happen.

  Let him have you for a little more, the woman inside her whispered.

  Wyatt carried her down the hall and easily found her bedroom. It wasn’t frilly, but it wasn’t sparse either. A checkered white-and-blue duvet. Lots of big plump pillows. Her taste. Simple and soft.

  Wyatt set her down on the bed and cupped her face. Immediately he went to work on the buttons of his shirt, revealing a tight white undershirt. She had no idea why it was so but seeing him in his undershirt was sexy as hell. Once his shirt was off, he pulled the undershirt off as well and what she had previously thought of as sexy did not compare to what she was seeing now.

  His chest was covered with matted hair, some gray mixed in here and there, but the muscles were defined and begged to be touched. So she did. Reached out and touched him.

  “Yes, that’s it, baby. Touch all you want.”

  Since he insisted… But when she rose from the bed so she could put both hands on him, she felt him working the zipper of her plain black dress. In a wisp of time he had it open and the fabric was falling around her feet. Dressed in a white cotton bra and thong, all her vulnerability came back to her.

  She couldn’t do this. She wasn’t the type of woman who could simply do this.

  “I can’t.”

  Wyatt used both hands to frame her face. He looked down at her body and then in her eyes and smiled. “Yes, you can.”

  “No, really. I can’t do this. You should leave.”

  She could see disappointment in his face, but it was quickly followed by determination. “Do you want me?”

  “I…that doesn’t matter.” Wanting him was as easy as drinking a glass of water. It was having him that she couldn’t risk.

  “It’s the only thing that matters. Camille, do you want to make love with me? Right here, in this bed. That’s all you have to think about. Not tomorrow. Not the day after that. Just us rig
ht now.”

  Us. The word was foreign to her. But then he was kissing her eyes and forcing them to close. He was nibbling on her ear and that felt good. Her arms were circling his back and it was as broad and strong as the rest of him.

  He pulled away to give her a chance to answer. “You need to tell me yes. I’m not going to push you if you’re not ready.”

  Did she want him? Yes. Did she want to make love with him now? Yes. Did she think she could have all that and still come out unscathed? Probably not.

  In this moment, with him in her arms, she might be willing to risk it. She nodded and, for a reward, he kissed her mouth. A small quick kiss that didn’t come close to satisfying her. But he was inching away and working at his belt. He undid the buckle, and dropped his pants, kicking off his shoes and socks in the process. He tossed the bundle of clothes on a chair near the door.

  That was Aphrodite’s chair. Camille wondered what she would think finding man-scented clothes on it.

  Then he pushed his boxer briefs down over his hips and she couldn’t think about anything at all. He was naked. She had a naked man in her bedroom for the first time in so long she didn’t want to think about it. Suddenly, she wanted to do everything at once. She wanted to fall on her knees and take him in her mouth even though she’d never done anything like that before. She wanted to climb on top of him and ride him until she came. She wanted everything. But she did nothing. She was frozen in place.

  Forcing herself to act, she reached for his erection. It was thick and hard and long and everything it should be. She shuddered with the idea of how this was going to feel inside her. She squeezed him and his head fell back as a soft groan emerged from his mouth. She wanted to hear that sound again so she pulled her hand up and then stroked him until he made it.

  But then he was tugging her hand away. She was doing it wrong, she thought. Leave it to her to be the only woman on the planet who couldn’t give a decent hand job.

  “Too much,” he said, moving close so he could kiss her neck. “I’m not going to make it. And I definitely want to make it.”

  She didn’t understand but comprehension was always difficult when a man was nibbling on her ear.

  “This first time is going to be fast, baby.” He was edging down the straps of her simple bra. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her breasts as he slowly pulled away the cups. With his fingers he brushed along her nipples so that they hardened even more. He teased both with the lightest touches until she thought she was going to scream.

  Pinch them! Please pinch them!

  But the words would be shocking. Crude. It wasn’t like her to demand things in bed. It wasn’t like her to even want things to be done to her.

  He didn’t pinch them. Instead, he lowered his head and sucked them into his mouth. And that was much better, she thought. He pulled and pulled her whole breast nearly in his mouth and she thought she might climax if he kept doing that, but he eased away.

  The bra he’d manage to unfasten during the sucking fell to the floor, and he skimmed her panties over her hips. His hands playing with the cheeks of her bottom, rubbing them, seeming to delight in their round firmness.

  She rode her bike a lot.

  “Yes, this first time is going to be fast. But I promise the second time will be slower. More drawn out. The third time we can play with each other and the fourth time…”

  Camille gulped and, in turn, Wyatt chuckled.

  He picked her up and laid her out on the bed. She felt him lower over her and the sensation of the body-to-body contact almost made her climax again. She could feel his knees working between her legs, pushing them apart, forcing his reality on her.

  “Are you on the pill?”

  Camille tried to think about what he was saying, but she could feel his penis brushing along her sex, teasing her with his size and intent.

  “Camille?”

  “Yes,” she said. “But you should… A condom… I don’t have…”

  “I do. But I don’t want to use it.”

  Camille took her eyes away from his erection as it settled on her belly and instead looked at Wyatt.

  “You know I’m checked regularly and I haven’t been with anyone for a while. And I’ve never not used a condom but…”

  “Then why?”

  He shook his head and she could see he didn’t know how to explain it. “I don’t want to use one with you. I want to feel you and I want you to feel me. Nothing in between.”

  She nodded, which said everything about the trust she felt for him. Trust she didn’t know she had for anyone. Immediately, he reached between their legs and she felt him push the head of his erection inside her.

  She was wet, had been since he announced he was taking her to bed and everything in between had added to that. But he was big and the stretching feeling made her feel like a virgin again.

  “Damn, you’re tight,” he moaned even as he pushed his way farther inside.

  She couldn’t tell if it bothered him or not. She wasn’t any good at this. She never had been. Throwing her arm over her eyes, she turned her head to the side.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Wyatt pulled her arm away and then interlocked his fingers with hers, holding both of her hands over her head. “Look at me, Camille.”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. In retaliation he gave a short aborted thrust that drove him deeper than she thought she could handle, but felt better than anything she’d felt in so long.

  “Look at me.”

  This time she obeyed and was rewarded with another thrust, this one more steady and even.

  “That’s it. I can tell it’s been a while but it’s like riding a bike.”

  “This is nothing like riding a bike.”

  Wyatt laughed. He released one of his hands and brought it under her bottom so he could lift her to him, bringing them even closer together. His chest rubbed against her sensitive nipples. He was buried deep inside her and his eyes wouldn’t leave her face. He could see everything she was feeling. The pain of his fullness, the pleasure of it. She knew the pleasure embarrassed her more.

  “Oh, babe,” he groaned then leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I’m not going to be able to hold out. I promise, promise next time will be much slower, but you have to let me. You feel so damn good. I knew it would be like this. I knew it.”

  Letting him wasn’t really an option. He had total control over her body and she was okay with that. She felt him pick up his speed, heard the harshness of his breath in her ear. She thought about whether she could orgasm. She didn’t normally during intercourse, but he pushed down on her hips as he thrust inside and it hit her before she could finish the thought.

  She was coming with a man inside her and it was the most intense experience.

  He shouted and jerked between her legs and she quickly looked up to see his face tight with agonizing pleasure. He was beautiful.

  In a huff, he collapsed against her. He turned his head toward her, and brought his hand up to force her head toward him. He kissed her then and let his tongue slip inside her mouth. She realized it was their first real kiss. He’d been inside her, made love to her, but now he was kissing her, slowly and deliciously. And this was almost as good as all the rest.

  Finally he rolled away from her and she felt him slip out of her body. “Come on,” he said moving off the bed and tugging her along. Once she was on her feet, she swayed a bit, but his arm around her waist steadied her. She wondered where they were going and why they had to be there so fast.

  He started to pull down the covers of her bed. “We’ll take a cat nap before we start again.”

  A cat nap. Aphrodite would appreciate that.

  He stretched out in her soft and simple bed. He was hard and hairy and anything but simple. The contrast aroused her all over again. She slipped into the bed next to him and instantly he settled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

  “Sleep,” he commanded.

  There was no way sh
e was going to sleep. It physically wasn’t possible with so many thoughts racing through her mind.

  What did this mean?

  Why didn’t he want to wear a condom?

  What was going to happen when she saw him at the hospital?

  Were they ever going to make it to dinner?

  But even as the questions continued to roll through her mind, the heat of him behind her lulled her into closing her eyes.

  She was asleep in seconds.

  It was the feel of his lips on her neck that woke her. She was lying on her stomach and he was half on and half off her back, but he was kissing his way down her neck. Then his lips grazed over her spine and she tried to stay still.

  Lower. Lower. He tongued the spot right where her back met her butt and there was no way she could control her slight shudder. Then with a playful slap on her bottom, he let her know he knew she was awake.

  “Round two.” His voice was gravelly and hard and it aroused her as much as his mouth did. He came over her fully, his legs between hers, his furred chest pressed against her back. He pushed his hands under her chest and cupped her breasts, lifting her enough that he could play with her nipples. Pinch them, make them hard until she arched her back and twisted her body, showing him without words what he was doing to her.

  With heavy thighs, he pressed her legs apart and she gasped at the feeling of being opened this way. Then he pressed down on her and she felt the head of his sex enter her body. The sensation was extreme. She was on the bubble of all this anticipation and she wanted to scream with it.

  Pushing her bottom up at him because she thought she needed to lift her hips for it to work all the way, she tried to tempt him into action. But instead of letting her, he used his weight to press her into the bed as he pushed himself fully inside her. The angle was different and the pressure was extreme. And she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or scream.

  “Oh, that feels good.” His voice grumbled above her.

  Yes. Yes, it felt good. But when she opened her mouth to tell him, he pushed down again, thrusting deeper and she couldn’t make a sound. Then he spread her legs a bit farther apart, her sex rubbing against her three-hundred-dollar Egyptian cotton sheets, as he set up a slow easy pace. Sliding in and out of her as though he was never going to stop.