Dr. Chase Hudson (The Surrogate Book 2)

by Gadziala, Jessica

  “Hey. Don't bother, dude. She's not interested,” I felt myself almost start to nod, glad that she had someone in her life to fend off unwanted guys at bars. But, unfortunately, Jake wasn't done speaking. “She's not interested in anyone but her sex doctor.”

  The look of absolute horror that came across Ava's face was enough to make me want to drag the dick outside and give him a different kind of talking-to.

  But that wasn't my place.

  “Shut the hell up, Jake,” Ava demanded, her eyes begging him to follow her orders.

  But apparently Jake was dense or drunk or a dick. Or all three. He just kept going. “No seriously. She's like... frigid dude. You don't want her.”

  Jesus Christ.

  Ava's gaze flew to her lap where she was wringing her hands together, a blush over her cheeks, her teeth nipping into her lower lip. She looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her right then and there.

  I sighed, leaning in front of her, extending my hand to her asshole roommate. “Dr. Chase Hudson,” I said, watching Jake stiffen.

  “Oh,” he said, dropping my hand.

  “Yeah... oh,” I enunciated, fighting hard against the anger in my system as I glanced at Ava again. “What you just did to her is absolutely fucking unacceptable,” I growled.

  “Dude, I didn't mean any offense...”

  “It's not me you should be apologizing to, it's her. Do you have any idea how insensitive that was? Knowing that she is struggling , to rub it in her face in front of someone you thought was a stranger? You need to take better care of her.”

  Didn't he see how lucky he was to be in her life? To share her bumbling, awkward, stumbling speech? To get to see her shy smiles? To hear her laugh?

  “I'm not her boyfriend or brother man,” Jake insisted, looking uncomfortable. But he was just pressing the issue to save his pride. He felt bad. And that was good. He should.

  “No, but you're the reason she's here in the first place. This obviously isn't the kind of thing she's comfortable with. And then you fucking abandon her. Then make fun of her? Who does shit like that? She's in your life. You care about her at all... fucking do better,” I said, throwing some money on the bar, too pissed to stick around and hear any kind of excuses he might come with.

  I took a breath, turning back to Ava. “Ava,” I said, my tone softer as I waited for her gaze to find mine. When it did, I offered her a small smile. “I will see you Thursday,” I said, turning and making my way back across the street.

  Thursday.

  How the fuck was I going to get myself under control by Thursday?

  Second Session

  Thursday was a blur of patients. The wife again. There was still no progress. If anything, the bitterness was getting worse- poisoning the well of potential reconciliation. I had the distinct impression I would be helping her through her divorce before the end of the year.

  Such was the job sometimes.

  I was looking over some notes when the door swung open, bringing a rush of cold air that made my gaze rise.

  And there she was.

  And she looked beautiful.

  Like herself, but not.

  She was dressed up. She wore a form-fitting black long sleeve dress, stockings, and heels. “Ava,” I breathed out her name, dropping the papers. “Can you lock the door behind you please?” I asked, attempting a casual tone as she turned to do so. Before she even turned back, I was across the room. And then it just... tripped out. “You look beautiful.” As would be expected, my clumsy compliment was met with silence. I sighed inwardly, shaking my head. “Come on, let's go get you a drink, okay?” I asked, sensing the anxiety coming off her in waves.

  Not surprising.

  Getting naked with someone new was usually anxiety inducing. For someone who struggled with intimacy... even more so. And for someone who was paying someone else to help them get over those hangups? I couldn't imagine.

  I got her a martini. She put on music. Singer-songwriters because it was a safe bet. Non-sexual.

  “Why don't you kick out of those shoes?” I suggested after I led her over toward the sectional and went to turn on the fireplace.

  Then I turned and sat down next to her, giving her no space to pull into herself, no time to freak out, as I wrapped an arm behind her back and pulled her legs over my lap.

  “Hi,” I said, tilting my head down at her.

  “Hi,” she said back on a whisper, a charming little lopsided smile on her face.

  Sometimes it wasn't the massive flirting, the outlandish confidence, the alluring sexual prowess. Sometimes all it took was a woman being fully, unapologetically... herself. Even if that woman was shy and awkward and unsure of herself. That was what got a man's attention- genuineness.

  And every fucking thing about Ava was real.

  And it was becoming a problem for me.

  I dropped my eyes from hers, my hand going to run down her hip and thigh, the silky smoothness of her stockings gliding across my palm. “I like these,” I admitted. “Did you wear them for me?”

  There was a strange lightness in her eyes at that, something passing behind them and I found myself wanting to know what it was. But then her eyes dropped to watch my hand and she answered her lap. “Yes.”

  Fuck me.

  “You're so sweet,” I said, unable to hold out any longer and I leaned down and started planting small kisses across her jaw- her skin smelling like her. Something soft and feminine. Vanilla. Lotion or perfume. It was practically fucking narcotic. Her eyes closed on a small sigh. “Ava...”

  “Yeah?” she asked, her eyes still closed.

  “Kiss me.”

  Her eyes flew open, looking more surprised than horrified though and I figured that was a good sign. Her gaze lowered to my lips and I fought the smile I felt forming. She wanted me. It wasn't just because she knew she was supposed to be intimate with me. It wasn't something she had to talk herself into. She just... wanted me.

  Her arm lifted tentatively off her leg, hovering in the air for the barest of seconds then brushing across the side of my face before settling at the back of my neck. I closed my eyes, taking a steadying breath, trying to force down the urgency of my desire. She needed patience and understanding. She needed me to get a fucking hold of myself.

  My eyes opened to find her watching me. Then she tilted upward and closed the space between us, her lips falling on mine softly. Carefully.

  But the contact sent off shock waves to my system. My arm around her shoulders tightened, my fingers dug into her shoulder, trying to let her have the control she needed. Then her lips pressed the kiss deeper and, fuck me, she dug her teeth into my lower lip.

  I could only take so much.

  I grabbed her and pulled her across me until she was straddling my waist. Her hands went up, cradling my face, completely lost in the moment. In the sensations. Her tongue slipped between my lips and my hands crushed into her hips- equally trying to pull her closer and keep her at a distance. Her arms went around my neck, her hips sinking down.

  There was nothing else in the world in that moment.

  I could have let her kiss me forever.

  But we had a session.

  And I wasn't exactly unhappy to end the kiss so I could see more of her. All of her.

  My hands went to the sides of her face, guiding her backward, watching as her eyes slowly fluttered open. Heavy lidded. Full of longing. “Jesus Christ you're beautiful,” I murmured, in the moment too far gone to think about my professional boundaries. My finger traced across her cheekbone. “I want to see more of you,” I started, watching as the desire drained from her brown eyes. “Take off your dress, sweetheart.” Her body went rigid. Fuck. “Don't freak out,” I said softly, my hands moving to her hips and scrunching into the material so I didn't start pulling it off her. “I want to take this off you so badly, but you need to be the one to do it.” Unfortunately. “Please take it off for me.”
r />   I could see a dozen thoughts floating across her face, stifling a smile because I knew how highly people with anxiety prized their ability to not be obvious about it, to not let other people see they were struggling. But fuck if her eyes weren't an open book. She had the worst poker face in the world.

  Her hands moved down her body to settle on top of mine, squeezing, silently telling me to let go. So I did. She took a few deep breaths before grabbing the hem of her dress and quickly (before she could talk herself out of it) ripped the material off and tossed it to the side.

  “Fuck me,” I heard myself growl, thankful she was holding her hips off of mine or she would have felt how much of an effect she was having on me.

  Because, make no mistake, there was nothing fucking professional about how I was feeling right then- about how I was looking at her- about how much I wanted her.

  She had on a black lacy bra with matching panties and garter belt, the black stockings clasped high up on her thighs. It was a lingerie set meant to drive a man to distraction.

  She accomplished that task.

  But it wasn't just the lingerie. It was her. Ava. The woman underneath the lace. Her collarbones, the breasts above the cups of her bra, her flat though not toned tummy, the flare of hips. Fuck... even the tiny iridescent spiderweb lines of stretch marks over said hips. Just... perfect. And I wasn't even going to get started on her legs.

  “Was this for me too?” I asked of her lingerie, watching as she nodded and gave me a shy smile. “Baby, stand up,” I coaxed, pressing into her knees until she moved off of me to stand. My hands rested at the tops of her thigh-highs.

  “I... ah...” Oh, fuck me... the stammering. I couldn't take it. She was too sweet. “Wanted to say thank you.”

  “Babe, what do you have to thank me for?” I asked, watching her face.

  “Because... because you're helping me so much.”

  Jesus.

  “Oh, babe,” I said, leaning forward and resting my forehead against her stomach. “You're so perfect.” Slowly, her hand came down to rest on the top of my head and I twisted slightly to plant a kiss on her belly. My gaze found hers again and I had nothing to say. There were no words. I always had the words. That was my job. To talk to people. Christ. “Well... you're welcome,” I went with finally, smiling clumsily up at her.

  Caught off guard, she fucking... giggled. Giggled. The sound sent a warmth through my system and I felt my smile stretch wide enough to make my cheeks hurt.

  I reached out, pressing her backward so I could stand then quickly shrugged out of my jacket and made quirk work of my shirt buttons. Her eyes stayed stubbornly on mine. “Ava look. I want you to look.” I watched her as she watched me, tossing my shirt aside and moving my hands to the buttons of my slacks. She watched until the pants were gone, her gaze going back up to my face. She was getting nervous. “What do you want to do?” I asked.

  I expected a head shake, a confused look, a stammered reply.

  The absolute last thing I could have prepared for was her closing the space between us, her arms wrapping around my back, and her head moving to rest underneath my chin. I felt my body go stiff for the barest of seconds, too surprised to move, before my arms went around her, crushing her to me.

  “I'd like to stay like this all night too baby,” I said. Because I did. I could have walked us toward the bed, curled us both onto our sides, and held her. Happily. Until morning. But that was the problem. I needed to get it together. I needed to get my head in the game. “But it's time.”

  “It's time for what?” she asked, sounding almost half asleep. And then, fuck, she turned her head and kissed my chest.

  “It's time to take the rest of our clothes off,” I said and she went still. “Don't stiffen up. It's okay. You can take as much time as you need, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, sounding like it was anything but okay.

  “Do you want me to finish first?” I asked, watching as her eyes went over my body, stopping just above the waist of my boxer briefs. “Ava?”

  Her eyes flew back up guiltily and she croaked out, “Me.”

  I nodded, turning, sitting back down on the sectional, watching her. “Ava,” I said, my voice a little harsh, trying to grab her attention. “Why don't you start with the stockings, okay?”

  Then she did. She unclasped the garter and slid the material down her long (perfect) legs. I bit the inside of my cheek at seeing how badly her hands were shaking. I knew it was hard for her. I also knew that she had to push herself or the therapy would go nowhere. Then she made faster work of the garter. Just the bra and panties were left. Two small swatches of fabric and I could see her completely. She bent forward, her hair cascading forward, offering her a small amount of privacy I couldn't begrudge her as she reached behind her back and let her bra fall to the ground. Her hands slipped down and hooked into her panties. Then she was out of them too.

  But I couldn't drink in the view. I couldn't soak up the image of her.

  Because the second she was out of her clothes, she lost it.

  “I can't. I can't,” she said, her voice dangerously close to tears as she went to the floor, pulling her legs to her chest, blocking her nudity from me. “I can't. I'm sorry. I just...” her body started rocking back and forth, trying to comfort herself and I felt like the biggest shit in the world.

  I moved down behind her, legs going out on her sides. “Okay. It's okay,” I said, reaching for her, praying she wouldn't shy away. She didn't. I pulled her to me until the side of her face was against my chest. My arms went around her and I pressed a kiss on the top of her head. Like an apology. “It's alright, Ava. Take a breath, okay?” I urged, her body not having inhaled at all since I got behind her, which only succeeded in allowing her anxiety to spike. She followed instructions. “Good. Again,” I said, my hands moving into her soft hair and stroking it. “Give me a number.”

  “Eight.”

  Fuck. Eight.

  “Okay. Keep breathing. What do you need from me right now?”

  There was a long pause. “I need you to rub my back.”

  I shifted so I could reach her and stroked my fingers up and down her spine. “Like this?”

  I could practically feel the tension draining out of her. “Yes.”

  So then I stroked her back. Until she was languid and calm against me. Until she was at the point where she was still naked, but not freaking out about it.

  “Okay,” I said, my hands moving across her back and under her knees to lift her. “I am going to take you to the bed.” Immediately, her body got tense. “No, don't tense up,” I said gently. “I told you there isn't going to be any sexual contact today. Okay? Do you trust me?”

  The was barely even a pause before she answered. “Yes.”

  And damn if that didn't feel good.

  She trusted me. Without even having to think about it. This girl who didn't seem to trust anyone... trusted me.

  “Okay. I am going to let you get under the covers so we can do this slowly. So we don't have another panic attack. That was my fault.”

  “It wasn't...”

  “Yes, it was,” I cut her off, not letting her have more than a second to think it was her. It wasn't. I fucked up. “I shouldn't have sat back like you were about to put on a show for me. That wasn't a good move. I should have known better.” I did know better. Which only made it worse. If I was just some clueless asshole she met, I'd have an excuse. As it was, I had none.

  I pulled back the comforter and let her slide under, pulling the blankets up to her shoulders. She held it in place but scooted toward the center of the bed, giving me space to climb in beside her.

  “I am going to take my boxers off,” I told her, reaching for the material.

  “Okay.”

  My head tilted with how quickly she accepted that, not sounding anxious at all suddenly. “Do you want to watch?” Beneath the sheets, her legs shifted. And I knew. I just knew she was pressing th
em together because she was turned on. Jesus. She nodded slightly. “That's so hot babe,” I said honestly, pushing down the boxers and stepping out of them. I gave her a moment to look. And she did, a slight blush creeping up in her cheeks, but she didn't look away. Then I climbed in underneath the sheets with her. “What are you thinking?”

  We both turned onto our sides facing each other, but she brought her knees up toward her chest as a barrier.

  “Ava, tell me baby. You can trust me, remember?” My hand moved out and rested on her cheek. “Please.”

  “I was thinking about you...” she trailed off and the blush went bright red, her gaze fell. Like she couldn't face me and admit whatever it was that was in her head. “Inside me.”

  Fuck me.

  Okay.

  I let my eyes close for a minute, trying to pull forward some more self-control. “God, babe, that makes me happy. You have no idea how badly I want to be inside you.” Like never before, honestly. I'd wanted a lot of women before. I'd had a lot of women before. But not one made me want her like I wanted Ava that moment with her shy little admission that to her actually meant the world. She wanted me inside her. She never wanted anyone inside her.

  “I have some idea,” she mumbled, biting into her lip, her gaze shifting downward.

  I choked on my laugh for a second before it burst from my chest, a surprised and appreciative sound. I hadn't expected that from her. It was cheeky and funny and it insinuated something sexual. She had a lot more to her than she let people see. But she was letting me peek at it. I had a weird, sneaky voice whisper that I was never going to be satisfied until I saw it all. “You're pretty amazing, do you know that?”

  Something I couldn't place came over her face before she looked away. “Okay. What now?”

  “Touch me,” I said simply. That got her attention. It also got me an eyebrow raise. “You want to, don't you?” I asked, turning onto my back. “Here,” I said, “I'll give you more access.”

  A small smile toyed at her lips. “Are you like... being playful?” she asked, her brows drawing together.