Dr. Chase Hudson (The Surrogate Book 2)

by Gadziala, Jessica

  “I figured maybe tonight we should do some talking first.”

  “Okay,” she said, not meeting my gaze.

  “First,” I went on, putting my drink down and pulling the paperwork out of my pocket and handing it to her. “I should have given it to you a while ago. But I kept forgetting.”

  She unfolded the pages of my latest STD check, dated the day of the introductory meeting. All, of course, negative. But she needed to have it. She needed to know she was safe.

  “I wanted you to feel completely comfortable with me. We will be using condoms, of course, but this was just for your peace of mind.”

  “Okay,” she said, putting the papers down behind her. “Thanks,” she said, addressing the hands she was wringing in her lap.

  “I know you're nervous. Talk to me, babe.”

  “I don't know what to say,” she shrugged, her voice a strained whisper.

  “Say anything. Say that you're nervous. Say why. Just... talk.”

  “I'm nervous.”

  “Okay,” I said, letting my hand land on her thigh.

  “This is the thing I am most insecure about.”

  “What makes you so insecure? That you can't enjoy it? That you're worried about being a disappointment?”

  “Both,” she admitted quietly.

  I felt myself nod though she wasn't watching me and let both of my hands land on top of hers. “Ava, nothing you could ever do would disappoint me. And I promise you that, no matter what happens, I will show you that you can enjoy it. No matter how long it takes.” I added emphasis by squeezing her hands. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, her gaze still lowered.

  “Look at me,” I demanded and waited for her deep brown eyes to find me- a little wide, a little scared, but trusting. “Do you believe me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Then come here,” I said, sitting back and tapping my chest. Her spot. Her safest place in the world. The place I always wanted her to be. The place that soon, she would never rest on again.

  She flew at me and my arms wrapped her up tight as I took a deep breath. “So let's talk about sex.”

  “Okay.”

  “In the past, have you ever had an orgasm through intercourse?”

  “No.”

  “Ever been close?”

  “No.”

  “Can you tell me what sex has been like for you in the past?”

  “Terrible,” she admitted surprisingly quickly. “As soon as clothes start coming off, the anxiety builds.”

  “And when someone has their hands on you, how do you feel?”

  “Like I want to scrape off my skin,” she said with conviction.

  Poor fucking girl. I wanted to track down all the guys she had been with before and wring their necks for making her feel that way for even a second.

  “Do you know why?”

  “No. I mean, yes and no. I think the anxiety just makes me so uncomfortable and then angry because I can't control it that the touching feels wrong. And it hurts instead of feels good.”

  My cheek went down on the top of her head, not wanting to ask but knowing I had to. “And what about when they are inside of you?”

  “I feel nothing,” she said, her body going rigid.

  “Nothing? Not even the skin crawling sensation?”

  “I mean... the first time...”

  “When you lost your virginity,” I supplied, knowing she was struggling.

  “Yeah...”

  “That hurt,” I added.

  “Yes. A lot. I got sick.”

  “Okay,” I said, squeezing her tight. “And since then... just numbness.”

  “Pretty much. Sometimes I can quiet the anxiety enough to feel, but just for like a couple seconds because it doesn't...” she trailed off, shaking her head.

  “Because you were stressed out so you weren't turned on and it felt rough and uncomfortable,” I cringed at the very idea, but pressed on. “And then the anxiety came back. Stronger.”

  “Yes.”

  “Alright,” I said, kissing her soft hair. “Thank you for sharing that. That is helpful.” My hands moved to rub her back lazily. “I'm sorry it's always been like that for you.”

  “It's okay.”

  “No, it's not,” I corrected, shaking my head. “Baby,” I said, moving back so I could look at her. “It's not okay. That should never have happened. Those guys...” I paused, swallowing the anger, “they should have seen that you were struggling and they should have stopped and tried to help you through it.”

  “Not all guys are like you, Chase.”

  “No but they should fucking try to be,” I growled, forcing myself to tamp down the anger. My hand moved to the side of her face and it evaporated. “Look, at any point tonight you feel anxious, you tell me. This isn't like the past when I told you that you should power through it and only push me away when you couldn't take it anymore. This is different. If you get above a four on that scale, you tell me. And if you don't feel like you can say it, all you have to do is say the word 'red' and I'll stop. And I'll try to talk you down. If that doesn't work, we can be done for the night. I will not be upset. I will not be disappointed. Understand?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good. What is the safe word?”

  “Red.”

  “Good. Anything else?”

  Her teeth moved to bite the inside of her cheek. There was something else. But she didn't want to say it. Or ask it.

  “Ava... just ask.”

  She took a deep, steady breath. “How many...” she started.

  I knew it was coming. Frankly, I was shocked she hadn't asked before. At the intro meeting even. Most wanted to know. Not because of jealousy or anything small and petty like that. But just pure curiosity.

  She wanted to know how many surrogate clients I had.

  “Twelve,” I cut her off.

  “Twelve?” she asked, brows drawing together like she was confused.

  “Men are more likely to seek help for their dysfunction. Women, due to society sex standards and often their own upbringing, many women who are suffering simply won't seek help. Surrogacy is a very small part of my medical practice. I have been doing this for about a decade and I have only had about one surrogate patient a year.”

  She paused, thinking what I said over. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” I repeated. “Come here,” I said, pulling her face to mine. I kissed her like it was the first time. Like it was the last. Like it was all we would ever have. She shifted, moving to straddle my waist to get closer to me, her hands moving to cradle my face as she kissed me back with everything in her too.

  My arms went around her as I stood. Her legs wrapped around me as I moved us toward the bed, turning so I could sit on the edge and settle her on top of me. My hands moved to slowly inch up her dress. Up her thighs. Ass. Stomach. Under her breasts. I waited for her to pull back so I could lift the material off of her body.

  With the dress gone, and the panties ripped in my waiting room, she was gloriously naked above me. I looked over her, sucking in a deep, steadying breath. “Perfect,” I said, my hands sliding up her stomach to cup her breasts then leaning forward to plant a kiss between them. “Thank you for sharing yourself with me.”

  Her hand moved to the back of my neck, toying with my hair. “Thank you for being so patient,” she said, sliding back on my lap so she had access to my chest. Her hands moved between us to slide off my jacket then work my buttons. Once the sides slipped open, her hands went to the skin underneath, sending a shiver through my system. I let her explore until I felt on edge, then lifted her and placed her on the bed, standing to remove the rest of my clothes before climbing under the covers and pulling her to my side.

  I let my hands whisper over her body, just getting her comfortable with the touch before I moved her onto her back and started kissing down her neck. Over her breasts. I moved to her nipples, licking and suc
king them until they were hard and straining. Then I continued down her ribs, her belly, each of her thighs. Until she was whimpering, writhing, reaching for me and pulling me back up to her.

  I reached behind me into the nightstand, grabbing a condom, and slipping it on. “This doesn't mean anything,” I said, kissing her lips softly. “You can take all the time you need.”

  But she didn't need time.

  I knew it when she reached for me, grabbing me and pulling until I moved over her, balancing my weight onto my forearms as her hands moved over my shoulders, my back, my ass. Her thighs parted and I slid into the space, my cock pressing hard against her pussy, already drenched, and rubbing against her clit.

  “Chase...” she groaned, grinding her hips up into mine.

  “You're sure?” I asked, my body tense, trying to hold myself back.

  “Yes,” she said, her tone airy. Needy.

  Fuck me.

  I leaned forward, kissing her until I felt the control slip back into place. I needed to go slow, to be gentle. No matter how much I wanted to slam forward and bury deep then fuck her until she screamed my name.

  I shifted my hips until I was pressing against the entrance to her pussy, lifting my head to watch her face, to look for any sign of anxiety. But I saw none. So I pressed slowly forward, feeling her impossibly tight pussy squeeze my cock. Her mouth fell open slightly, her brows drawing together.

  “You okay?” I asked, hoping to whatever god was listening that she said yes.

  She nodded, spreading her legs wider, helping her body to acclimate as I kept inching in. I pushed to the hilt and her body jerked up, her head slamming into my arm.

  “Ow,” she groaned.

  Shit.

  “Okay,” I said, stilling. “Baby, look at me,” I said softly, waiting for her to draw a breath and lie back on the pillow. “I'm inside you,” I told her, hoping it meant half of what it meant to me, to her. It meant fucking everything. I took a breath, trying to focus. “What's the number?” I asked, needing to know before we kept going.

  “Three,” she said a little breathlessly.

  Thank god.

  “I can work with three,” I said, giving her a weak smile before taking her lips. Which she gave, happily. It wasn't long before her feet went flat on the mattress, her knees pressing into my sides as she moved her hips up toward me to try to get some release. I felt myself chuckle against her lips. Christ. She was ready. I raised my head and pulled slightly out then pressed back in. A whimper choked out of her throat. “So fucking tight,” I groaned.

  “So... big,” she corrected a little shyly, but she was smiling.

  I smiled down at her. “You ready?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a tightening in my chest that I tried to forget as I drew halfway out of her then pressed fully back in, keeping the slow pace, wanting her first time really experiencing sex to be lovemaking- to be fulfilling emotionally and not just satiating physically.

  I leaned down toward her ear, closing my eyes tight and breathing in her soft scent. “You're so beautiful,” I told her, feeling her legs wrap around my back, her hands moving to grab my shoulders. Her hips started rising to meet my slow thrusts, circling them a little when I was buried deep.

  “Oh my god... oh my god,” she whimpered, her fingers digging into my back. And it was the sweetest fucking sound in the world.

  “That's it baby,” I said, lifting up so I could look down at her. I wanted to watch her fall apart. “Come for me. I want to feel your pussy grab me.”

  Then just like that, she came.

  Her eyes went wide and her body stiffened for a moment right before her pussy started pulsating hard around me, dragging me to toward the edge with her.

  “Chase!” she cried, burying her face in my neck and holding on tight as her body spasmed.

  “Fuck. Beautiful.” I pulled out then pressed back in, feeling my own orgasm course through me. “Ava... fuck me...” I groaned as I came.

  My weight went down on her for a moment, my entire body spent, but she just wrapped me up tight as her body quaked through the aftershocks.

  I sucked in a deep breath, putting myself back together, trying to pull against her hold. “Baby, let me look at you,” I told her but she shook her head, pulling me tighter to her body. “I'll hold you, okay? Just let me look at you,” I said and her arms slackened slightly so I could pull back. “Are you okay?” I asked and she immediately shook her head no, making my heart fly up into my throat. “No?”

  Her eyes opened slowly. “Okay isn't even close to how you make me feel,” she said, shocking me both with her words and with the intensity with which she said them.

  “Oh, babe,” I said, shaking my head like I didn't believe her as I rolled to my side and pulled her onto her side as well, my hand going to her face. “I'm glad you feel that way.” And I was. Glad. Elated. So full of pride and amazement that it was a miracle I wasn't beaming from fucking ear to ear.

  But then the look came.

  The bad one. The pained, strained one that became a hollow mask, keeping my Ava from me.

  “What's the matter?”

  “Nothing,” she lied. And it was a lie. A bold-faced lie. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she said suddenly, moving toward the other side of the bed, taking the sheet with her as she shuffled toward the door and closed herself inside.

  I sat up, dealing with the condom, trying to get my thoughts together. Trying to not worry too much about why the mask was back.

  I waited.

  Two minutes.

  Five.

  Getting more and more concerned.

  Then I heard the shower water turn on and I stood up, moving toward the door. The sheet was discarded on the floor and the steam was already billowing out of the shower. I moved to the end and let myself in, taking a look at the soft skin of her back and ass, her hair a much darker blonde when it was wet.

  “You should have told me you were taking a shower. I would have joined you,” I said, moving in behind her, my hand landing right below her breasts and moving down her belly.

  In front of me, she was stone. Stiff. Tense.

  I moved in closer, knowing she took my presence as comfort, as my hand splayed her lower stomach.

  “Red,” she said, the word firm, almost harsh.

  My hand froze then dropped as I took a step back.

  Red.

  She was using the safe word.

  Fuck.

  I knew it. I knew something was up.

  God damn it.

  “Ava, babe, what's wr...” I started, but she wasn't listening. No, she was climbing out of the shower, grabbing the only towel and haphazardly drying herself off as she made her way back into the bedroom.

  By the time I followed (literally just seconds later) she was dragging her white dress awkwardly up her wet skin.

  “Ava please talk to me...” I begged, fucking begged, watching her frantically dress and grab her keys and wallet, then fly through the door toward my office.

  I dove for the towel, wrapping it around my waist as I followed her, a strangling sensation closing around my throat.

  “Ava...” I called as she ran toward the front door, fumbling over the lock with clumsy fingers. But she got it open before I could even reach her and then she was out on the street, hauling ass down the sidewalk in her bare feet, her drenched hair soaking through the back of her dress.

  I wanted to follow her. Fuck, I needed to follow her. But I couldn't go fucking chasing a soaked and freaked out woman down the street in a god damn towel. With a frustrated sigh, I went back to get dressed.

  After the Session

  I forced myself to calm the fuck down.

  I didn't let myself chase after her.

  Not right away.

  I called. I texted. I left messages. I waited. I gave her space.

  But when more than an hour had passed and there was nothing, I let myself ge
t into my car and go to her place, taking up the stairs two at a time, feeling almost sick with worry.

  I pounded on the door despite being told to keep my panties on by Jake. Then the door swung open, making Jake's easy grin slip immediately off of his face. It was replaced by... anger. Genuine anger.

  But I didn't have time to smooth over his feelings.

  “Where is she?” I demanded moving to press past the doorway.

  “No,” Jake said, holding onto the side of the door, blocking my way.

  “I need to see her, Jake,” I reasoned, running a hand through my hair, trying to calm down. She was there. She was with her people. She was alright.

  “I don't think that's a good idea,” Jake shook his head.

  “Jake,” Shay said, walking up, looking as worried as I felt. “I dunno. You haven't seen her. She's like... bad,” those words fell like lead in my stomach. Bad? How bad was bad? Shay didn't exactly seem like the type to exaggerate. “Maybe it will help.”

  “Or it could make it worse,” Jake supplied, eyeing me suspiciously. “He's the reason she flew in here soaking fucking wet and more freaked than I've ever seen her. And I've seen her freaked, Shay. He fucking did that.”

  “It's not what you think, Jake,” I said, shaking my head.

  “She needs a shrink,” Shay reasoned.

  “So we'll call the other one. The chick.”

  “Oh for fuck's sake,” Shay said, obviously losing her patience. “He's here. Let him try. I'll go with him.”

  At this, Jake sighed, dropping his hand from the door. “Fine. But if you hurt her again, man, I'll fucking make you regret it.”

  “I'd expect nothing less,” I nodded at him as Shay led me across the apartment to Ava's room.

  I went in, but Shay stayed at the door, giving us a little bit of privacy but keeping an eye like the watchdog she was.

  Ava was curled up on her bed, cheeks tear-stained, sniffling, curled up into herself.

  “Baby...”

  At the sound of my voice, she pulled her legs up into her chest, curling into a protective little ball and burying her face in the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

  “Sweetheart,” I said, reaching for her arms and pulling them away form her face. “Don't hide from me,” I pleaded, but her eyes stayed downcast. “Why did you run?” I asked, not able to keep the question inside anymore.