Doctor Next Door

by Rush, Olivia

“My future?” She gaped at me. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t fucking know, Becca. You do the math. I’m crazy about you. There, I fucking said it. I’m crazy about you. I’ve been through enough shit to last me a lifetime, but goddamn if I can’t get you out of my mind. I can’t stop myself from wanting you or thinking about you, and that’s all there is to it.”

  She stepped forward and poked me in the chest. “If I’m so damn important then why do you care what Perry thinks, huh? Why do you care if they mock me or you?”

  I shook my head. It was too complicated to go into, right now. Perry’s friendship had been a rock. We’d been brothers, and the fact that he’d turned on me was too much to put into words when I was clouded by the woman standing in front of me.

  “I can’t explain it properly,” I said. “Just know that it was for you. Because of you.”

  “Bullshit. Anger is always selfish.” She turned her back on me again and inserted the keys into the lock, then turned them.

  “So, you’re being selfish right now?” I asked.

  She spun back around again, eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re angry, right? That’s selfish by your logic.”

  “Don’t play word games with me.” Becca poked me in the chest, and I caught her finger in mine and pinned it back against the door.

  I moved my body into hers, pressing against her soft curves and resting my forehead against hers. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you never want to see me again. Tell me you’re too angry to go on like this. Say it, and I’ll never come back again.”

  She stared at me, her eyes flicking from side to side as she took in the words. “Mason.”

  “Say it. Say you want me to go.”

  Becca opened those perfect lips, her tongue emerging to wet them.

  C’mon, baby, say it.

  “Stay,” she whispered.

  I crashed into her, parting those lips further and finding her tongue with mine. I tasted the sweetness of her again. How many times had it been now? I’d lost count, simply because each kiss was like the first. My muscles rippled against her, tightening in response to the waves of desire that resulted from our touch.

  “Fuck,” I growled against her lips.

  Her hands fell to my belt, and she stripped it off, then she worked her dainty fingers over the buttons of my jeans, then my zipper. She tugged me free, my cock falling against the palm of her hand. Becca stroked my shaft, then worked her fingers over my head, and I groaned into her again. It was too much. Too fast.

  I grabbed her thigh and lifted it, her cotton dress tumbling back along that smooth, tan thigh, revealing a matching white G-string underneath.

  “Jesus Christ, Becca,” I said and traced the triangle with my free hand, the other’s fingertips biting into the meat of her thigh. “Jesus, look at you. You’ve already soaked through the cotton.”

  She slammed her back against the door and arched it, pressing her tits outward, barely contained by the fabric that held them in place. “Fuck me raw,” she breathed. “Fuck me bare. I need it.” She worked her palm over my shaft, demanding, her skin so soft it brought shudders of pleasure down my spine.

  She didn’t have to ask me twice. I peeled the triangle of fabric to one side, revealing the tight little cunt waiting beneath it. Her lips glistened in the meager moonlight. I swept a finger between them and lifted her juices to my lips, lapped them down greedily.

  Fuck, what I’d give to bury my face in that pussy again and just devour her. I bent to make good on that, but she released my dick and pressed both hands to my shoulders. “Mason,” she hissed. “Inside. Now, please. I need you inside me. I need you to fill me again.”

  I hoisted her thigh up, wrapped it around my waist and closed the remaining distance between us, angling her ass so that her pussy teased the tip of my cock. I held the base of my shaft and worked it back and forth, teasing her clit with our fluids.

  Precum dripped onto her pussy, and she covered me with her need for me.

  “Mason!” It was a demand, and a little too loud given that we were still out in open.

  “Quiet,” I said.

  “I want it.”

  “Quiet, or you’ll end up with your panties balled up in your mouth for a gag.”

  Becca’s eyes flashed at the challenge. She tilted her head back, and I ravaged her throat with kisses, trailing moisture from the hollow at its base and up to her chin. “I want it,” she repeated, even louder this time, and it was clearly a challenge. “I want it now, Mason.”

  I stepped back and dropped her thigh, bent in front of her, and dragged the cotton G-string down her legs. She lifted either heeled foot and stepped out of it, smirking above me. I rose again and balled the panties up. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she whispered and opened her mouth.

  I placed the panties inside, and she gave a muffled gasp, her eyes rolling back in her head.

  “Good?”

  “Mm-hmm,” she moaned.

  I lifted her thigh again and rammed her against the door. I took the base of my dick, slapped it against her clit once, wet it with her fluids again, then rammed it into her velvet warmth, stretching her out again.

  “Christ,” I growled, softly.

  Rebecca let out a whine, muffled by the panties in her mouth.

  “Harder?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  I pounded into her. She was so fucking wet I was transported to nirvana. I leaned into her, suckling on her neck, tugging on her hair with my free hand as I angled my dick inside her, scraping against her G-spot, demanding her climax.

  Becca’s legs shook, her ass trembled against the wood, and she clamped her hands around my neck, pulling and moaning. She pulsed around my cock, squeezing me tight—a pre-orgasm.

  I bit down on her neck and used the position as leverage to penetrate deep. As fucking deep as I could go.

  She moaned against her makeshift gag, pressing into me, her left leg collapsing beneath her. I caught it before she fell and lifted her into the air, working her back and forth on my dick with ease. She was light as a fucking feather.

  Becca leaned back against the door and watched me, glazed over with her impending orgasm.

  “That’s right, angel,” I whispered. “Come for me. Come hard for me.”

  She jerked around my dick, her hands clawing at me, her body melding to mine as she reached the peak and burst over it. Her whine became a scream, still muffled, but loud enough. I didn’t bother shushing her.

  I was too fucking gone to care. I pushed into her again and again, my balls tightening up, my body tensing. My cock swelled up, and her pussy was too tight, too fucking good. I released inside her, filling her again and again. I dripped out of her, even though I wasn’t done yet.

  “Fuck,” I grunted and leaned in, losing it inside her. Losing myself.

  Something cracked behind us, but I couldn’t stop.

  There was a terrific groan, and then a crash. We tipped forward, and I held onto my woman, shifting my hands to catch her, even though we fell together.

  The old fucking door slapped into the foyer of Becca’s house, and we slammed down on top of it together, still jamming through our climax.

  “Jesus.” I rolled off her after it was finally done, my back against the rough wood. “Jesus.”

  Becca spat out her underwear and sat up wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked down at the wooden non-fixture beneath us. The keys were still in the lock. “There goes the door,” Becca muttered.

  “I can fix it. I’ll fix it in the morning. We can prop it up for now,” I said, between breaths.

  Becca stiffened next to me. “Mason—Mason, this doesn’t change anything. I still need to think about this. None of what’s happening makes any sense.”

  “You can’t tell me what we just did didn’t make sense,” I said, sitting up too. I got up, pulled my pants up from around my ankles, and buttoned myself. I offered her a hand and
helped her up.

  “Not that,” she said. “Everything else.”

  “What do you want, Becca?”

  “You. I want you. But I don’t want to want you,” she said, honestly. “Does that make sense?”

  “Yes,” I replied. It was how I felt. It was the exact same feeling that’d been lodged in my chest. Whatever the case, I’d overstayed my welcome. She needed her space. I stepped back and bent, lifting the old door with ease. “I’ll prop it up for tonight. But I can’t leave you here alone. You got a guest room I can crash in?”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “No monkey business,” I said. “Just safety. I can’t let you stay here alone without any protection. Got it?”

  “Thanks,” she said, nodding. “Thanks.”

  “We’ll work out all of this in the morning.” And with that, I propped up the door from the inside and secured it in place with a shove. She collected her panties and started up the stairs, flipping on the light as she did.

  What did that say about us? About this? Or about me?

  Since when had I decided trusting was a good thing to do?

  Chapter 24

  Rebecca

  Sunlight arced between the curtains in my bedroom, and my eyelids fluttered open. Memories from last night rushed back to greet me—the carnival, the fight, the sex against the now-broken front door.

  “Oh god,” I groaned and gripped my forehead. Paper crinkled against my palm. “Huh?” I tugged at the paper and removed a sticky note from my head. “What the heck?”

  It was yellow, and words were scrawled across it.

  Morning, angelface.

  I’m downstairs fixing the front door. Come down when you’re in the mood to talk.

  Coffee in the kitchen.

  I stared at the note and read it over a second time, a small smile taking the place of my confusion. That was kind of quirky, and kind of adorable. Who stuck a sticky note to someone’s forehead while they were asleep?

  Doctor Dunn, that was who.

  I scrambled out of bed and into the shower, desperate to rinse off the night’s sleep and all the hot thoughts about him—but it was impossible. Mason was a dominant force in my thoughts, and scouring him out of there was impossible at this point.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed and ready to go. I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen, poured two cups of coffee, and walked them out into the entrance hall.

  A new door was up—decorative, thick, dark wood with a sweet little window in the front. It was exactly the type of door I’d have pictured in the house. I opened it and stepped out onto the porch.

  Mason was on all fours in front of it, measuring the stairs.

  “Coffee,” I said, and he looked up at me, an easy grin parting his lips.

  “Good to see you’re up. It’s only what, nine?”

  “It’s a weekend,” I replied. “So sue me for wanting to sleep in. You did tire me out last night.”

  “An accusation I’ll gladly accept.” Mason tramped up the stairs and accepted the mug from me. “Thanks.” He lifted it and took a sip, then gestured to the top step.

  We took a seat next to each other, the wood groaning beneath us. “Good thing we didn’t have our little midnight adventure here,” he said and patted the wood. “We’re going to have to rip this up sometime soon. It won’t last long.”

  I nodded. “Thanks for making the coffee this morning, by the way. I—uh, didn’t expect you to stick around after everything that happened last night.”

  “Why not?”

  I didn’t want to answer that. It wasn’t because two people had told me he had the habit of leaving when the going got tough. No, it was because we’d both acted like assholes last night, thanks to the tension and the emotions that’d flown around.

  “I don’t know, Mason,” I said and shrugged. “None of this has been simple.”

  “I know,” he replied. “I know, but goddamn if it hasn’t been worth it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that despite all the shitty external factors, I wouldn’t change a damn thing.” He set his coffee mug aside and turned to me, took one of my hands in his. I loved that—how my small my palm fit into his. How I fit into him. “Becca, I’m glad I met you. I’m glad all of this is happening.”

  “Me too.”

  “I don’t feel like I’m going to lose you,” he continued. “I feel like, no matter what happens, I’ve got you, angel.”

  I stared at him, blinking rapidly and trying to take that in properly. “Explain, please.”

  “Fuck it, Becca, what do you want me to say? Before you came along… Fuck, don’t judge me for this, all right?”

  “For what?”

  He cleared his throat. “I don’t talk about this shit to anyone, because that’s just not who I am. I came from a line of men who were focused on keeping emotions in check. My dad was military, my grandfather was military. High emotions, even anger like last night, were frowned upon. It’s part of the reason I was frustrated with myself after it happened.”

  I nodded, listening. Mason didn’t need my input now. He was on a track, and all I had to do was lend him my ear.

  “So, trust me when I say that talking about feelings is the last thing I want to do.” He ran his hand over the top of his head. “There’s shit you should know about before I go any further here, so I’m just going to spit it out.”

  “Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

  “Maybe that’s not a good thing,” he chuckled, and squeezed my hand tighter. “I left Tabitha to go do my service, it’s true, but part of leaving was because I couldn’t handle what she’d become. I needed time to be me, to think, and when I was called up, it was perfect timing in a sense. Perfect and horrible.”

  “How so?”

  “War is war,” I replied. “And Tabitha wasn’t understanding. She’d spent the past couple years at home, ‘looking after the house’ even though we had a maid, and shopping. She spent more money than I had, racked up credit card debt, and blamed me when I told her we couldn’t afford that type of lifestyle. When I left, it was a relief.” He massaged his forehead. “I came back and walked in on her and Perry together. They both tried talking their way out of it, but the damage was done.”

  “Wow,” I whispered. “So it was him.” I’d figured as much, but the confirmation, so raw and right here in front of me, was intense.

  “Yep,” Mason said. “I was furious at first, but, eventually, I let it go. It was long ago. She stalled on signing the divorce papers too, which pissed me off, but I dealt with it.”

  “But she did sign them?”

  Mason quirked a smile, that handsome doctorly Adonis grin that should’ve been illegal. “Worried I’m married?”

  “Yeah, affairs are not my style.”

  “Me neither,” he replied. “The divorce is final, but only because Tabitha and Perry got engaged.”

  “Oh, wow,” I said. “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”

  Mason chuckled. “Yeah, I had no idea he was such a creeper. Or that she was a cheater. I sure can pick ’em.”

  I walked my fingers up his arm and met his gaze. “I think you do OK.”

  “You do, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, now you know the nasty story, Becca. I’ve got my baggage, and so do you. All I wanna do is hang out with you, let whatever the hell this is develop. Sound good?”

  I opened my mouth, but he cut me off with a wave.

  “And fuck all the rest. Fuck the idiots in Stoneport. Fuck Perry, and fuck Tabitha. We don’t have to worry about them. If we see them out again, I won’t rise to the taunts. The only reason I flipped last night was because he brought you into it. I can’t stand the thought of him getting away with what he did to you at the practice.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, for the bajillionth time. “Really, I’m fine. I don’t need you to stick up for me like that.”

  “I know you do
n’t need me to do it. I want to do it.” There was something unspoken in Mason’s gaze, and it froze me to the spot. “So, scout’s fucking honor, I won’t get angry like that again. But from now on, we’re not just friends who fuck. We’re going to go on dates. We’re going to enjoy each other’s company for as long as it’s good.”

  “For as long as we still want to,” I said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good to me.” It wasn’t dating, it wasn’t friends, it was something weird in between, and I still had my doubts. They didn’t matter, though. It wasn’t as if I’d turn my back on this now. Sheesh, I could hardly stand when I was close to him, let alone walk away.

  Mason drew me into his arms and pressed his lips against mine. The warmth and the scent of his cologne immediately sent me into desire overdrive. I leaned into him and his kiss without a hint of internal or emotional resistance for the very first time.

  I’m yours. That was what the kiss said. All yours.

  “Knock, knock,” a woman called from the front gate.

  I jumped and turned on my ass, raising my hand to block the bright, early morning sun.

  Kathy stood at the front, holding a gorgeous golden retriever puppy in her arms. “It seems I’m interrupting something,” she said, stiffly. “I can come back later.”

  “No, no! It’s all good.” I sprang to my feet, excitement bursting through me once again. A Mason and a puppy all in one day? Best Saturday ever. I rushed to the front gate and opened it for Kathy, who stepped inside.

  She cast an eye over the house and gave a nod. “I see you’ve had more work done on the place. I like the new front door.”

  “That was a necessity,” Mason said, strolling up to us.

  “Thank you so much for bringing Ty over.” I held out my arms for the puppy. “You really didn’t have to. I was more than happy to come down and fetch him myself.”

  “That’s quite all right,” Kathy sniffed, still studying the landscape as if a puppy-eating monster would spring out of the bushes and leap toward Ty. “I just wanted to ensure that everything was in order before I handed him over.”

  “Would you like to come in for coffee?” I asked, still with my arms out for the pupper.