His Deception

by L. C. Giroux

  “Ms. Bellows, I’m sorry but I really am going to need these images.” came a voice from outside the machine. It was deep and male so definitely not the tech’s kindly old woman’s voice. The table slid back out of the machine and she came face to face with Dr. Dennison. Oh God, how much had he heard? “Ms. Bellows, what can we do to make this a less traumatic experience. Is it a claustrophobia issue?” Violet wasn’t sure if it was left over panic or not but her heart was galloping in her chest and she had trouble catching her breath.

  “I’m sorry, it brings back horrible memories from my childhood. The noise combined with the close space...”

  “What if we piped some music in, would that help distract you from the noise of the magnets? Do you like opera?”

  I... yes, I love opera.” She found him confusing and beguiling “Why are you trying to help me?”

  “In part because, you are obviously terrified of this thing and I really do need these images to do your surgery.”

  Violet tried not to look disappointed then she narrowed her eyes. Michael fought to avoid audibly gulping. That glare was pure hardened steel that would be happy to cut out his heart and hand it back to him wrapped in a bow. “So should I yell at you? You looked pretty shaken the other day in the street.”

  “That is the other reason I am trying, and evidently failing, to be nice. It would go along way to making me feel less like an ass for the way I acted then.”

  “Apology accepted though I did notice there was no actual apology! Now how am I going to get through this?”

  “I only need lower spine images so I can visualize the nerves better when I am doing the surgery. Would it help if...well...you were able to lay with your arms up over your head and I... I could hold on to your hand so you would know you weren’t alone.”

  “That would help, add in some opera and I might get through it.” Michael realized she was actually smiling. His chest got tight and he wondered what it would be like to have her smile at him like that all the time. Then he chastised himself for forgetting that she was indeed married.

  He went into the control room and cued up some music from his phone. As he rolled back in the opening bars of La Traviata started to play. She beamed.

  “Of course this was my favorite even as a child. Mother used to put on the music and tell me the story. She always called it “my opera!”

  “But of course, Violetta. Now, do you need a pillow under your back to make you more comfortable? How about under your knees?”

  “Yes, both of those would help.” he went to get some small pillows and Violet became acutely aware of the fact that she was laying there in a johnny coat, panties, and socks. He offered his hand so that she could pull herself up to sitting, then he positioned a pillow for the small of her back and had her lie back down. He rested a hand on her stomach as he adjusted the pillow and she felt its warmth spread through her body and pool in her abdomen. She blushed with thoughts of what it would be like to feel his hands all over her and her skin glowed from the heat the thought caused. He went to the far end of the tube and asked her to bend her knees. She did as she was asked and felt a cool breeze on her bottom. Oh God, why had she chosen today to wear her best French lace panties. She wanted the confidence good lingerie gave her. Damn, she couldn’t have just chosen plain white cotton. She felt herself go hot again.

  Michael tried to position the pillow under her knees but from his seat in the chair the angle was difficult with out him looking right at her. When she bent her knees he saw the flash of lace but more intriguing was that the panties had ridden up slightly and showed just a bit of cheek where her bottom met her thigh. He had an almost irresistible urge to run his thumb nail along it to see if she would shiver. Damn, Dennison! It isn’t an apology if you turn into a lecher! He took a deep breath to clear his head and wheeled himself back to where she could see him. He handed her another pillow and told her to place it between her thighs. It would keep her legs from shaking. “How does that feel now?” he asked.

  “Much better, thank you.” She found herself staring into his eyes. They were clear blue with a dark rim so they looked darker, almost navy. She found them fascinating but sad and guarded. She searched his face, high aristocratic forehead, aquiline nose, high cheek bones, sandy blond mixed with grey beard and mustache. He looked like a Renaissance hero in a modern suit, her musketeer. She smiled at the idea of that.

  “Go ahead and put your arms over your head. Are you still comfortable? Do you need more pillows under your back?”

  “yes, just one should be fine.” She hoped that he would touch her again but no, not this time.

  “Okay, I am going to have them slide you into position in now. And perfect timing, your first aria is about to start. Concentrate on the music to help drown out the noise of the machine I will be right at the end of the table holding your hands.” Her eyes went wide as she slid into place.

  “I’m right here Violetta. I won’t leave you.”

  Violet swallowed hard as the table stopped moving and she was fully in the tube. She could feel her panic rising when she felt a warm hand hold hers she grasped at it with both hands and felt his other hand enclose hers. She could hear him talking to her through the speaker. Quietly he said “Should I tell you the story of your opera?” She squeezed his hand to say yes. She closed her eyes and felt herself relax as he began whispering “her opera”. She couldn’t believe she was in a hospital -having an awful test no less and she was indeed relaxed. Dr. Dennison was a miracle worker!

  From his vantage point at the end of the table he looked down the length of her and it was killing him. He warned her that the magnets were going to start spinning and continued telling her the story. The fan to alleviate the feelings of claustrophobia must be cold because he saw her nipples harden under the thin cotton wrap. He stopped speaking for a minute lost in the thought of what would it feel like to have this woman under him. Have it be him that brought her nipples to peaks. Her chest rose and fell with her breathing. What would it be like to make her breath quicken, her heart pound, take her to the edge of arousal and watch her tumble over it. She squeezed his hand snapping him out of his daydream. He took a ragged breath and thought MARRIED! PATIENT! NEVER FOR YOU! trying to restore some sanity to his thoughts and he continued the telling of the opera.

  They had all the images he needed by the middle of act two. Violetta and Alfredo happily ensconced in a country house and before the appearance of his interfering father. Michael was secretly relieved that he was able to leave the story on a happy note. Silly, considering she was more than familiar with the outcome but it pleased him anyway.

  He escorted her to her dressing room and waited while she dressed.

  When she came out Violet was surprised to find him waiting. She blushed to the roots of her hair and a shiver of pleasure ran through her. “I... You have no idea how much what you did helped. I never could have gotten through it otherwise.” she gave him a shy smile lighting her face like candles. Michael didn’t know you could be this happy and this miserable at the same time. If he hadn’t actually gone to medical school he would swear his heart was breaking into pieces in his chest. He forced himself to smile back.

  “Yes, well...you’re almost done with the gauntlet of tests. I’ll see you back here for the surgery in three days.”

  “What about the storm they’re predicting? It is supposed to be bad.”

  Michael tried not to laugh but she looked exactly like six year old praying for a snow day. “You’ll need to be here by 5:30 AM. It isn’t supposed to get going till later in the day. At that point you’ll be stuck here whether it snows or not, I’m afraid.” She looked a little crestfallen. “If it is any consolation, I’ll be here too.” He wasn’t sure but he thought he saw her smile.

  Pay Back

  Lovers and Other Strangers Series Book Two

  Prologue

  Her back was to the door but she knew when he walked in. He was growling at her. She whipped around to face him. H
e was stunning, lean like a jungle cat. Dark curly hair and sapphire blue eyes. His skin was flushed from practice. She could smell his scent like an animal in heat, and it made her mouth water.

  "I finally have you alone." The roughness of his voice nipped at her nerves making her jump.

  "Wha... What are you going to do?" His smile told her he'd do exactly as he pleased.

  "I'm going to do what you've wanted me to all along. I am going to show you what happens to good girls that want to be wild." He crowded against her, pressing his body tight to hers. His erection was tight against her belly. She licked her lips. She wanted him pressed against her, reveled in his warmth. The animal attraction of him made her bite at her lips. Why hadn't he kissed her yet?

  "Kiss me." It came out of her like a breath.

  "Not yet. If you want me, show me. Undress."

  "Here? In the cafeteria?"

  "Now!" She started unbuttoning her shirt but she was too slow for him and he pulled the sides apart popping the buttons off. Then both their clothes were off. His mouth was everywhere. His hands were so warm and strong holding her, pinning her to him. Her skin felt like it glowed reflecting back the heat of him. She was mesmerized. She inhaled the spicy male scent of him. She could not stop herself, she licked down the center of his chest. His hand clutched at her hair.

  "I've got a better use for your tongue." He held her by her hair as he guided her down the length of him. He was tall but not gangly, his body beautifully formed. His pale skin frosted with dark hair across his chest and ran in a line down his body forming a nest around his cock.

  "Yes, please, I want you in my mouth."

  "Good girl, I love when you beg." She rubbed her face against his abdomen then licked at the tip of him. The salty musky flavor of him on her tongue made her want more. She kissed him and then ran her tongue up his shaft, licking a new drop from the tip. She took just the head between her lips. He was so warm, so smooth, and so hard. She dragged her teeth along the underside and heard him hiss. She smiled with him still in her mouth, happy she could please him. She pressed her face against him taking in more. She felt him at the back of her throat and felt him shiver as she swallowed. His hand was still in her hair and now he dragged her off him. She whimpered when he pulled out of her mouth.

  "I don't want to go off there. On the table, spread your legs. I need to prepare you to take me." She was on the table before she could blink. He released her hair as he laid her down. He spread her legs farther and reached between them with both his hands.

  "This is mine and no one else's. Is that clear. You are mine. Say it!"

  "I am yours. Only yours." She was writhing in anticipation of his touch. He ran his hands down the inside of her thighs. He stroked his thumbs over the outer lips of her sex. He was teasing her, making her want it more. Then his thumbs dipped into her, easing her lips apart, exposing her essence to him.

  "Do you want it like a good girl?"

  "Yes." She whispered

  "Liar. You want it bad. You want me to take you hard."

  "Oh God, yes." She felt his fingers thrust into her without warning. She was so wet it didn't matter. His thumb stroked up on her clit when he pushed in again. She drenched his hand with her juices.

  "Now you are ready for me. I can feel how close you are. I want to feel you come around my cock." He took his hand away and moved over her. She could feel him at her entrance. In one thrust he was fully inside her. With every thrust he marked her as his, imprinting himself on her soul.

  "Mine, you are mine."

  Evie's eyes flew open as the first wave of her orgasm rolled through her. She lay in bed shaking, her hips twitching to the spasms happening inside her. Oh dear God, she was too old to be having dreams like this. It was the middle of the night and now she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. She wanted to cry, to scream. Who the hell thought she would still be a virgin at thirty five. Bernard had been hinting that he wanted to date her… Ugh, no. She didn't know why but he just seemed all wrong. Besides, if she was going to even think about this she wanted someone that at least turned her on. Too bad she didn't know any guys that did. She needed to go back to sleep but when she closed her eyes now all she could see was him. She hadn't thought about 'dreamboat' in ages. He had been breathtaking in high school. Maybe she should look him up, hell that's what Facebook was for? Right, so she could find out he was happily married with 2 kids. Or worse, single but had let himself go like ex-jocks do but still thought he was a stud, Eww. She laughed, hey at least in her fantasies he was still damn hot, he could just stay there, nice and safe and all hers. She closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep with a smile on her face.

  "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I can't believe I missed the shot. I make that nine times out of ten! Fuck!"

  "Sorry dude, but you'll have to pay up. 7:30, Saturday, the Continental, auction starts at 8:00. Wear a dark suit or better yet a tux. The women will love you." Chauncey walked away laughing

  "Shit!" Cam lobbed one ball after another at the net and all of them dropped in without touching the backboard. Now he was stuck going to the annual meat market and he had a really bad feeling about it. It wasn't as if he lacked for female attention, well he hadn't exactly been overwhelmed with it since he had ended up in the chair but, damn those bachelor auction things gave him the creeps. Something about the blatant appraisal and the women's no holes barred sexual aggressiveness had turned him off when he had two working legs. How would he be judged now? It wasn't like he could roll out there and yell, Hey Ladies! The legs don't work but the rest of the equipment is just fine. The fact that the auction raised money for the widows and families fund didn't make it any less unsavory. He'd just have to deal but this was going to suck in no uncertain terms.

  Chapter One

  Saturday had gotten here way too quick but then your execution always does. Cam took a deep breath to quell the nerves that he wasn't used to feeling. Joseph Camenitti was not afraid of much but being auctioned like a piece of meat was not high on his list of things he wanted out of life.

  "Camenitti? Christ! How the hell did they get you to do this?"

  "Hey O'Reilly. Would you believe I lost a bet. I'm taking Chauncey's slot. You ever done this before?"

  "Yeah, My wife ropes me into it. Its not really so bad. She kind of gets off on buying me for the night. I suppose after ten years of being married I should be happy she still wants to pay for the pleasure."

  "You mean your wife buys you?"

  "Yeah, didn't Chauncey tell you how this works? You figure out how much your willing to pay to save your ego and then you get some woman to bid that amount and you pay it. Happily I might add. God, I'd never get up there if I didn't know for sure I'd get bid on." O'Reilly shuddered for added effect. Cam wanted to be sick, this was going to be even worse than he had imagined. He could see how it was going to play out. He would roll out on stage and there would be dead silence, fucking crickets. He was going to kill Chauncey when he saw him next. He snagged one of the programs. Everybody had a picture and a short bio, except him, his bio was on a piece of paper that had been stuck in at the last minute announcing that Chauncey had a pressing engagement and Joseph Camenitti would be taking his place.

  He supposed he should be grateful that they listed him as a decorated cop, wounded in the line of duty but they didn't say the wounds meant he'd ended up in a wheel chair. He looked in the mirrors the organizers set up. He wasn't bad looking he supposed, not like he thought about it though. God knows his romance writer sister had used him often enough for her damn romantic heroes.

  She claimed women loved the tall dark and handsome look. He ran his hand through his curly hair, well he did have the dark hair. Women always seemed to love the blue eyes too. He had been tall and broad shouldered but that was before he got shot and before he'd ended up in the chair. He was still fit and had some muscle on him, being behind a desk all day sucked but at least he had time to workout and shoot hoops so he hadn't turned to mush yet. This wasn't
helping. He pulled at the bow tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. At least he could breath now. His tux still fit which was good because it was this or his dress blues and that seemed like a serious cry for attention. The guys had been going out one by one and getting bought up. He needed to just brace himself for the worst and move past it. What the hell did it matter if nobody bid on him, their loss.

  "Eden, you said we were just going to go for a drink!"

  "We are, but in here we can have a drink and ogle some man flesh too!"

  "You're depraved."

  "You don't know the half of it!" Eden laughed, she loved to shock her older sister.

  "Evie, when was the last time you actually went on a date, forget about having sex, just a date with a man? Wait, have you decided you're into women?

  "No, I still like men but I don't see its any of your business when my last date was..."

  "You can't remember because you don't date, EVER! I know it is hard for you to believe but you really are a beautiful woman, even if you went through a serious ugly duckling phase. Most guys would be thrilled to have you by their side but you won't even make eye contact."