“Are you guys ready to order?”
I jumped, having forgotten that the barista was standing right there, close enough to watch us eye-fucking one another. “I … yes.” I somehow remembered the word. “I’ll have a chocolate chip scone, please.”
“And another coffee. For her.” Before I could protest, the dark-haired man lay his money on the counter. The items were bought and paid for in half a second, making my face flame.
“You didn’t have to.” My voice was a faint attempt at reprimand.
He chuckled deeply[bc4], sending a shiver down my erect spine at the closeness of our bodies. “I ran into you. If I’m not going to kiss all your injuries better, I might as well buy your scone.”
It took everything I had not to beg him to do exactly that. Thankfully, my scone came before I could assault him, and I took it with an unsteady hand. “I … thanks.” It was all I could think of to say – at least, all I could think of that wasn’t a plea for him to bend me over the nearest table and fuck my brains out.
“Anytime.” With that, he took his coffee and headed back to his table – leaving me ungodly wet, considering that the man had barely touched me.
Though I knew I was being obvious, I watched him go, my body all but throbbing in need.
What the hell had that been?
And how was I supposed to recover from it?
*****
Even a week later, the memory of the encounter was enough to wake me in the middle of the night, my thighs drenched.
I was a goddamned mess.
I barely got through my midterm and all but fell into bed after the two-hour extended class only to be awoken from complete unconsciousness by the alarm on my phone. I groped for it twice before finally finding the damned thing and blinked in the semi-darkness before groaning when I discovered the alarm’s purpose.
Great. Just great.
Not only was I over-aroused, overworked, and exhausted, now, I was somehow going to have to find time to visit the university clinic.
The previous summer, I’d made sure to get enough birth control to last me at least six months when I visited my family in the Bronx. It wasn’t like I had specific plans to get laid, but I liked to stay on the pill for the regularity it gave me and the way it tempered my otherwise fearsome PMS.
Because of the recent craziness in my life, not only had I neglected my daily schedule, I’d also run out of birth control.
With a groan, I squeezed my eyes shut. More than anything else in the cosmos, I wanted to go back to sleep. To pretend I wasn’t supposed to be an adult without responsibilities and sleep until the end of the world.
Unfortunately, I knew that if I didn’t get my business taken care of now, I’d never get it done.
Somehow, I managed to drag myself out of bed and into a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt. I didn’t know what to do with my masses of curls so, for the time being, they went into a messy bun atop my head. I looked like utter shit, but hopefully, I could get into the clinic and get out before I ran into anyone I knew.
I scurried across campus, hoping that the clinic was still open, and more than that, that I wouldn’t have to spend my entire evening there. Unfortunately, my prayers weren’t answered. When I stepped into the building at the edge of campus, it was packed with students who probably found themselves in much the same situation I did – meds forgotten and responsibility guilt-tripping.
With a long sigh, I stepped up to the window, where I was confronted with a middle-aged woman who looked as if she’d rather be doing anything but manning her station. “Hi.” I tried to retain some semblance of enthusiasm. “How long is the wait to see a doctor, exactly?”
She arched a brow at me imperiously. “A while, honey.” Picking up a clipboard with a series of forms attached to it, she handed it to me. “Why don’t you fill these out and take a seat.” I swallowed a groan, biting my lip as I weighed my options. I could stay, and maybe see my final days waiting to see a doctor without end, or I could go back home to my warm bed and pretend none of this had ever happened.
When I was on the cusp of returning the forms, a deep, familiar voice came from behind me, and I froze in place.
“Sorry, I’m a little late, Maggie. Traffic on the way back was killer.”
Unable to resist, I looked over my shoulder, shocked to see my café crush standing at my shoulder. For a moment, I drank in the sight of him. It had to be almost a week since I’d last visited the place; and so, in addition to being denied my favorite lattes, I’d also seen neither hide nor hair of the man I wasn’t supposed to be attracted to.
Yet here he stood – dark hair smoothed back from his brow, smelling absolutely heavenly, his eyes trained on the woman before me. It took me a moment to realize that his broad-shouldered form was clad in a white coat and a stethoscope hung around his neck. My eyes widened slightly before dropping to the nametag hanging from his breast pocket.
Doctor Brendan Tabor, University Medicine.
He was a goddamned doctor.
I should have been embarrassed by how quickly my panties dampened.
“I … um … sorry.” I made to move out of the way so that the good doctor could continue his conversation with the receptionist. When I spoke, however, he glanced at me, and his gaze lingered on me a moment before a spark of recognition lit in its blue depths.
“Chocolate chip scones, right?” At his words, my heart stuttered in my chest. He remembered?
“Yeah!” I finally managed, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. “I … thanks again for that.”
“The pleasure was all mine, I assure you.”
There it was again. It seemed almost like he was … flirting with me. But that couldn’t be happening, right? Especially not with me looking the way I did. But the way he was looking at me … eyes gleaming with interest … I had to be imagining it, didn’t I?
“So what brings you to the clinic at this hour, Miss …?” He trailed off, a brow arched in inquiry.
“Johnston,” I answered quickly. “Raven Johnston.”
His full mouth quirked into a devastating smile. “Need a check-up, then, Raven?” Something about the intimate way his voice caressed my name made me shiver.
Slowly, I shook my head. “I … uh … just need a refill on a prescription I already have, actually.”
“Is that all? Well, then ...” The good doctor glanced over at the woman I presumed was Maggie, his expression neutral. “You can put her next in line for me, Mags. Should be a quick in and out.”
The receptionist looked as if she had just swallowed a rather large lemon. She opened her mouth, then shut it again without saying anything at all. When she did choose someone at which to direct her anger, that someone happened to be me. Maggie all but glared at me before turning furiously to her computer to enter the information. Doctor Tabor, however, only smiled at her – as if he didn’t notice her upset. “You’re the best, Mags.” With that, he turned back to me, giving me a once-over that left a lingering warmth low in my belly. “See you in a few then, Ms. Johnston.”
Christ.
That gave me only a precious few minutes to prepare myself to be closed into a small room with a man I’d all but pined over for the last two years. I could only imagine what disservice my imagination was going to do me.
As I watched the man walk away, I tried not to fixate on his perfect behind – and it really was perfect. Even beneath the white cotton of his doctor’s coat.
Somehow, I managed to find a place to sit down as I groped for a litany that would get me through the coming experience. Something like Do not ravage the doctor, or Hands to yourself, Raven. If I repeated it enough times in my mind, maybe my thoughts would remain halfway decent.
I struggled to concentrate on the forms, filling out my information as best I could. Of course, Maggie and the glares she shot me over the reception desk weren’t helping matters any. I ignored her, flipping through page after page of what seemed to be a novella they asked me to compose abou
t my medical history. No, I didn’t have a history of HIV or cancer in my family. I hadn’t had any surgeries in the past year. It was my first time at the center. As far as I could recall, the only things I’d ever been allergic to were strawberries.
Pursing my lips, I scribbled in the information as fast as I possibly could. I needed to get through this appointment before it became obvious to Doctor Tabor that I was undressing him with my eyes.
Though … I did seem to remember that during the encounter we had a week ago, he’d seemed … interested. Or so it had appeared.
Of course, in seven days, I’d had all the time in the world to work a slight brushing of his hand into a full on attempt at seduction in my mind – but I was fully aware that my mind wasn’t the real world. At least, not yet.
“Raven Johnston?”
Shit.
At the sound of my name, my head jerked up, my pen screeching to a halt in the middle of the page. I wasn’t even halfway done. How the hell had they called me back already?
My palms slightly damp, I rose to head towards the reception desk, intent on dropping off my papers, only to have Maggie shake her head at me, her mouth tight as she pointed towards the door to the examination ward. There, a substantially happier looking nurse was waiting for me, and some of the tension in my gut eased.
This was a doctor’s appointment - that was all. I was being a proactive adult. If anything, I shouldn’t be nervous. I should be patting myself on the back.
I managed to keep that outlook while the nurse took my height, weight, and vitals, before leaving me alone on the examination table. In fact, I kept my cool right up until the doctor entered the room.
And then I was reminded why I was so goddamned intimidated.
Tabor’s tall form slipped into the room and, immediately, he commanded every single iota of my attention. While, just a moment prior, I thought the space was actually pretty roomy for an examination room, all at once, it was much too small. The clean, spicy scent of the well-built man tantalized me as he took a seat on a stool before me, taking my clipboard from my stunned hands to look over the half-finished information.
For a long moment, all I could do was stare.
Admiring him from across a café and from up close were two totally different scenarios. From just two feet away, I could see the way his hair curled willy-nilly at the base of his neck, how weathered the pads of his fingers were and the inescapable depth of his blue eyes.
Which were currently fixed on me expectantly.
Oh, Christ, had he said something to me?
“I’m sorry … could you repeat that?”
To my embarrassment, Doctor Tabor only smirked – and I couldn’t even be angry. The man could probably be pissed at me and I’d still be drooling over him.
“I asked how long you’ve been on Yaz,” he replied without the slightest hint of hesitation.
At the question, my cheeks reddened slightly. I couldn’t help it. I supposed up until that point I hadn’t considered having a male doctor – a male doctor I was in lust with, no less – speaking to me about reproductive matters might be a bit incriminating.
“Um … about three years now?” I finally managed, swallowing thickly as he shifted in his chair, spreading his legs slightly.
I could definitely see the bulge of his package between, and I fought against staring at it shamelessly as I squeezed my thighs together firmly. From one single glance, I could tell that the good doctor was packing – and it didn’t help my situation in the slightest.
“And you’re sexually active?” He was flipping through my forms now, his tone casual. “Single or multiple partners?”
Christ, I was mortified. “Well, no partners right now.” I blurted out the words before I could stop myself and immediately wished the ground beneath my feet would open up and swallow me whole. I had to physically clench every muscle in my body to keep from writhing in embarrassment – and it was a very close thing, still.
“Really? None whatsoever?”
My eyes, which were firmly shut – popped open at the doctor’s mild inquiry. To my surprise, he was gazing up at me with an expression of mild incredulity, a brow arched.
“I … um … well, I’ve been busy with midterms,” I provided quickly, “And to be honest, I’m kind of burnt out on the whole thing. I know that everyone says your college years are for experimentation and all that, but I feel like most of it’s overrated.”
Now I was just babbling. Where on earth was this deluge of idiocy coming from? The more I spoke, the more amused it seemed the doctor became. What started as a mildly interested quirking of lips on his part soon became a full blown smile as he listened to me. When I finally fell silent, my face was flaming, my gaze concentrated on my converse-clad feet.
“I’d have to say that I agree with you there.”
I almost fell off the table, my head jerking upward to meet his gaze once more. “What did you say?”
“About the college experience,” he replied, humor evident in his tone. “I have to admit, it was a while ago for me, but the fact of the matter is: when you’re twenty and horny, you hardly know how to please a woman.”
“Christ … tell me about it.” By this point, my brain and my mouth had obviously stopped communicating properly. “They think all they have to do is shove their dick in you and you’ll see God.”
Did I really say that? Chalk it up to a week of stress on little to no sleep.
Doctor Tabor chuckled, shaking his head slowly. “I see. And do you?”
I blinked, suddenly lost. “Do I what?”
“See God?” He inquired, his voice suddenly low, his blue gaze fixed on mine. My heart rate doubled in the space of five seconds and, for a minute, I forgot how to breathe.
“I … no.” When I finally found my words again, I shook my head slowly. “Never.”
“Well, Miss Johnston,” Doctor Tabor stood to tower over me, and I craned my neck to look up at him, my mouth suddenly dry, “as a doctor, I might, then, suggest a bit of medical advice for you.” Bracing one hand on the table beside me, he leaned over, his scent and the warmth of his body enveloping me. “Follow your instincts. Take what you want. There are so few that do these days.”
For a long moment, I stared at him. I remembered the way he’d looked at me in the coffee shop the day he bought my scone – the hunger in his eyes. How he’d told me how much he liked to view women from certain angles …
In that instant, I must have lost my mind. Reaching up, I took the man’s face between my hands and drew it down to fuse my mouth to his.
I expected him to shove me away – to react in outrage. Anything except what he actually did.
And what he did was kiss me back. His tongue slid skillfully against mine, making me shudder as he sucked and licked at my mouth leisurely – unrushed. Unlike many of the groping college boys I’d been with, he took his time tasting and exploring, and I, in exchange, indulged in his dark, rich taste.
My fingers slid to the nape of his neck, curling into the silky hair I found there a moment before I latched onto his lower lip to suck gently.
Immediately, it was as if a switch had been thrown. A low growl escaped him, and he finally touched me, his hands going to my hips as he jerked me to the edge of the examination table. Nudging a knee between my thighs, he pressed himself against the heat at their crux – and I was suddenly aware of his very obvious erection. His mouth left mine for just long enough to murmur against my lips darkly. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for years.”
My eyes widened.
He knew.
“Years?” My question was breathless – and instantly cut off as he kissed me again. This time, the gesture was far hungrier. His hands worked their way beneath me, lifting me slightly to curl into my behind and I moaned – a sound of two years pent up frustration. The doctor swallowed it, pulling me even flusher against his clothed cock.
“Fucking years …” he groaned, his mouth trailing over my jaw and d
own my neck to send fingers of sensation branching through my entire body. “You think I didn’t notice you spying on me?” He bit at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, and I whimpered. “Trying to keep secrets as you squirmed in your seat. A girl like you is impossible to miss, Raven. Those eyes, and that hair … and this body …”
As if to emphasize, he thrust his hips against me once, sharply, and my breath hitched as anticipation spiked through me. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”
At the very notion, my toes curled. “Here?” I managed, on a low moan. “But what if we … what if I …”
“I have twelve-hour shifts for the rest of the week, Raven. Do you want my cock in you now or would you like to wait some more?”
Well, Jesus Christ, when he put it like that …
“Now is good,” I managed.
He chuckled darkly against my neck, long fingers reaching for the bottom hem of the hoodie I wore. “Glad we agree.”
As he worked the thick material off and over my head, my brain struggled to catch up with my body. Was this really happening?
My hoodie hit the floor a moment before Doctor Tabor kissed me again. His tongue flicked against my upper lip, making my thighs quiver, a moment before his hands slid upwards from my hips and along my waist to cup the warm weight of my breasts.
Almost immediately, my nipples hardened into taut, almost painful peaks and a whimper escaped me. “How long has it been for you, Raven?” As his thumbs circled the tips of my breasts leisurely through my bra, I groaned softly.
“Too long …” The doctor blazed a trail of stinging bites along my neck until he reached the deep vee of my T-shirt. There, he sucked at the soft skin leading down to my cleavage, leaving a series of vivid red marks in the wake of his hungry mouth. I shuddered, my fingers threading through his hair until they slid against his scalp.
I arched my hips halfway off the table, my breath leaving me in harsh gusts as I attempted to slide as flush against his body as humanly possible. I wanted him – no, I needed him inside me.
When I reached for the bulge at the crux of his legs, however, the doctor took my wrist in a tight grip, keeping me from my prize. A low whine of disappointment escaped me, and he chuckled softly. “Patience, Raven. All in good time.” With that, he reached down to begin slowly – torturously, rolling up the hem of my T-shirt.
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