Doctor Next Door

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Doctor Next Door Page 19

by Rush, Olivia


  “Take me home,” she whispered. “Your home.”

  Thirty minutes later, we were there. Ty was asleep in the kitchen, blocked off by a couple of those fucking boxes that’d started all of this, and the house was empty. Becca made short work of filling up the water and food bowls for her puppy then turned and came back to me.

  “I need to get clean,” she said.

  “Come with me.” I led her up the wide set of stairs to the second floor of the house and onto the landing. We took a left and moved down the hall to my bedroom. “I’ve got just what you need. Massive shower. I prefer showers to baths.”

  “Me too,” she said, but her words carried so much more meaning than just casual chitchat.

  We entered the bedroom—my bed neatly made out of habit—and moved into the bathroom. There was more than enough space for the both of us, and our gazes met in the mirror above the sink.

  “I look terrible,” Becca said, brushing her hair back. A yawn cracked her jaw. “God, look at the state of my hair.”

  “You look perfect to me.” I slipped my fingers down the zipper of her jeans and undid them, then helped her shimmy out of them. “But you also look like you need a little help.”

  “I do,” she said.

  I removed her blouse next and admired her breasts in the mirror, her nipples puckering from the change in temperature. I withheld the urge to take them into my mouth, to feast on her and fuck her over the counter.

  She needed comfort. My animal urges would have to wait.

  I stripped my clothes off too, then turned on the water. Steam filled the bathroom, brushing across the surface of the mirror and misting it over.

  “Come,” I said and took her hand. I helped her into the shower and placed her under the stream, then took up the soap and worked it into a lather in my palms. I put it down again and smoothed it over her body, washing her arms, her stomach, her breasts, her back. Everywhere.

  I worked thoroughly, massaging her body with my fingertips, my dick hardening at the sound of her soft moans, the sight of her body responding to my touch.

  Becca leaned back against the shower wall, and I worked my fingers between her legs, growling at the wetness gathered there. It was all her, nothing to do with the water streaming down from above.

  “Jesus, angelface, you’re so fucking deliciously wet.”

  “I want you,” she breathed. “Mason, I’m starting to think I won’t be able to come ever again without you inside me.”

  “Good,” I replied. “That’s the way it’s meant to be.” I looped one leg over my shoulder and pressed her back against the wall, spreading her wide. I buried my face between her legs, licked her clit once, pressing my tongue flat and savoring her.

  Becca jerked against me and moaned, dug her fingernails into my shoulders. “Mason.”

  “I’m going to eat you until you come, baby, and then I’m going to make love to you all fucking night long.”

  She moaned something incoherent, working her pussy in time with my licks. I pressed two fingers inside her, using my free hand to steady her in case her legs gave way.

  Becca’s body was an instrument beneath my fingers and tongue. I sucked her, and she let out noises that were fucking music to my ears. I stroked her G-spot, and she shuddered against me, gripping my shoulders to keep from keeling over. “That’s right,” I said, between licks. “That’s right, baby. Come for me.”

  She tangled her fingers in my hair, tugging hard, and sailed over her edge. Becca went wild, clawing at me, rocking back and forth, pressing her pussy into my face. Fuck, it was heaven. Her orgasm brought me too much pleasure.

  I caught her as she fell, then I rose and cut off the water. I carried her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, both of us still dripping water, her eyes drifting closed.

  “Time to sleep,” I said, softly.

  “But—you. I want to make you come, too.”

  “Tomorrow.” I lowered her to the bed, fetched a towel, and dried her off, taking extra care between her legs. She moaned, still sensitive from her climax, and my cock throbbed again. Christ, sleeping after this would be difficult.

  “I want you inside me,” she said and opened her eyes. “Mason, please. I need you.”

  Fuck, how was I s’posed to resist that? She was fucking begging for it. I lowered myself onto the bed beside her and ran a finger over her curves, down between her legs. She was wet all over again, swollen too.

  “Please,” she repeated.

  I rolled her onto her side, slipping one arm beneath her head and neck, then tucked her against me, angling her hips so I could enter her.

  My dick throbbed against her entrance, just as fucking needy as she’d been. I kissed her neck, inhaling her scent, sucking on her flesh, and living in this damn moment. She was all I wanted. Nothing else mattered.

  Not the job. Not the town. Not anything.

  Slowly, I pushed into her, biting gently on her shoulder at the pleasure that streaked through me.

  I went slow, savoring each thrust, each gentle, feminine noise from her.

  “Can’t hold on much longer,” I said.

  “Fill me,” she whispered. “I want all of you. I always want all of you. Give it to me, Mason.”

  I pounded into her then, lost the control I’d kept such a tight rein on, and did as she asked. Gave her what she needed. My mind was fucking transported by the orgasm, shell-fucking-shocked. I lay there, holding her, my dick still inside her velvety warmth.

  Slowly we drifted off into dreams, my nose against her skin, her smell surrounding us.

  Never let you go.

  Chapter 30

  Rebecca

  Two weeks later…

  “All done?” Betsy asked from behind the bar as she cleaned off the specials board. “Good day today, Becca?”

  “Great day,” I replied, forcing a bright smile. “I made lasagnas, burgers, fries, and home-cooked roast chicken meals. It’s a dream.”

  Betsy laughed and turned from the board, holding a swatch of cloth in one hand, her graying eyebrows creeping upward. “Really? This coming from a hot and happening New York chef?”

  I raised two fingers and made a cross. “Never again. I’m much happier this way, trust me.” And it was true—all that pressure I’d had before starting at Betsy’s diner had never materialized. Every day at work couldn’t be more fun.

  Except for one thing. I swallowed hard and fetched my handbag from behind the bar. “So, I’ll be on my way. See you Monday?”

  “See you Monday! Have a good weekend,” Betsy said but caught my arm before I could turn away. The mirror behind the bar reflected us—me paler than usual, and her radiating that boss-lady power she’d had since the start, a mixture of sweet and sassy. “Hon, are you all right? You’re lookin’ a little…”

  “What?” I asked, my pulse kicking up a notch.

  “Under the weather.” Betsy smiled at me, but I couldn’t summon one up in return. It felt wrong to force it and even worse, now that I was pretty much terrified of what would happen in the next two hours.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? How is everything going at home? Did you manage to get the kitchen sorted out?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “I mean, work has started. Mason helped me find a contractor who was affordable, so things are going ahead, but it’s not all the way there yet.”

  “Sorry you have to go through that,” Betsy said and squeezed my arm. She’d been an amazing supporter and friend over the past couple weeks, and possibly the best boss I’d ever had. It didn’t change the fact that I was basically in hot water right now.

  “That’s life, I guess. I’d better get going, though. Have a good night, Betsy.”

  “You too, hon. Just remember, if you ever need anything from me, an ear or a shoulder to lean on, I’m here, OK?” Betsy released her grip on my arm and stepped back, the skin around her eyes wrinkling up as her smile deepened.

  “Thanks,” I said and gave her one
final wave before heading for the glass front door of the diner, past the comfy booths—now empty—and the tables in the center of the room with the chairs upturned. Nerves built as I exited into the street and halted in front of my old beat-up VW.

  Night had long since settled over the parking lot in front of Betsy’s Place. The stars twinkled overhead in a sky of inky black, and the moon hung gibbous between them. There wasn’t a breath of wind, and the heat of the day lingered, even now.

  I checked my cell and smiled at the text from Mason.

  “Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.” It was moments like these that made my mini-freak-out abate, but it didn’t last long.

  “Me neither,” I texted back, then stowed my phone in my pocket and nodded to myself. It would be OK. It had to be OK. That was all there was to it.

  After all, this had happened before. Whenever I stressed too much or strange things happened in my personal life, my cycle went out of whack. Trouble was, I couldn’t recall when exactly I’d had my last period.

  A fact which I was one hundred percent kicking myself for. I’d downloaded a tracker app on my phone months ago and never used it in the rush of everything happening in Stoneport. And now, I was in a state of stress.

  “No use standing here just thinking about it.” I picked my keys out of my purse and set off home.

  One stop at the drugstore and a tension-building drive home later, I was in the house, my grip trembling on the brown paper bag.

  “It’s OK,” I said, just as a happy bark rang out from the living room.

  I headed over to the partition I’d created for Ty for whenever it was too hot out or I’d be gone longer than usual and let him out. He went crazy, barking, licking, and wagging his tail. “Hey, gorgeous,” I said and bent down, scratched him behind the ears. “How was your evening?”

  Another bark and a tail wag from him, and I headed through to the kitchen—the portion that was usable, now that the damaged half was blocked off—and fixed my pupper some dinner. I was too nervous to eat.

  I placed Ty’s food in his favorite bowl and set it down in the living room. “Now, you stay down here, all right? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Three minutes, according to the instructions on the side of the pregnancy test.

  I hurried up the stairs and through to my, drawing out my cell as I went. If the test came back negative, no problem. If it came back positive… I’d need someone to talk to, and Peggy was in the process of going through a pregnancy herself.

  She’d have some sage advice. Or she’d cry with me.

  I entered the bathroom and prepared everything, did the deed, capped the pregnancy stick, and set it on the toilet lid to work its magic. “It’s OK. You’re OK. This is going to be totally fine. You’re just doing this as a precaution. It’s not like you’ve been extra hormonal, or…”

  But there had been mood swings, and tender breasts, and that thing where I could smell what perfume the waitresses in the diner were wearing, and…

  “Stop.” I paced back into my bedroom and back again, swallowing over and over again. “You’re fine. Stop.”

  Three minutes passed. Then four. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a breath. I had to do this. That was all there was to it. I patted my cheeks, then strode through to my bathroom and picked the stick up from the toilet lid.

  Pregnant

  3+ Weeks

  My heart shimmied into my throat. I clutched at my neck with my free hand, ramming my cell phone into it accidentally. I dropped my cell, and it clattered to the tiles. My focus remained on the stick, on the result, and on the future.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  I was pregnant with Mason’s baby. I was fucking pregnant!

  How had this happened? Sure, we’d done the whole “bareback” thing, but I was on the pill! And the only time I wasn’t had been during the first time we’d had sex with a condom. Impossible. This was impossible.

  I bent and grabbed my cell from the floor, then unlocked the screen and flicked through until I got to Peggy’s number. My butt hit the floor, and I rested my head against the cold wall as I dialed.

  The ring mocked me. “God, just pick up. Pick up.”

  Finally, the line clicked. “Hello?” Peggy’s voice was thick was sleep. “Sister? What’s going on?”

  “We need to talk,” I said. “I—can you get up, please? It’s a serious emergency, and I need your advice.”

  “Shit, OK. I’m up, I’m up.” Noise shuffled on the other end of the line. A muffled complaint from a sleepy Dave, followed by a rebuttal from my sister, then footsteps as she thumped out of the room. The line cleared. “Hey, I’m here. What’s up? You sound spooked.”

  “I’m pregnant,” I said. “I’m pregnant with Mason’s baby.”

  Silence.

  “Peggy, are you there? Hello? Did you hear what I just said? I’m pregnant.” Now that I’d found out it was true, it was like I couldn’t stop saying it. The word shuddered through my mind.

  Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. You’re fucking pregnant!

  “Jesus, Becky,” Peg whispered. “Are you serious? Hold on, I’m going down to the kitchen. I’m going to need a cup of hot cocoa for this.” Her footsteps were softer this time but followed by the bang of doors then the clink of a mug. “Keep talking to me, babe. I’m here for you.”

  “I don’t understand how this happened. I mean, I know how it happened, but also…how? We used protection. I’m on the pill, for god’s sake. This is…”

  “You’ve been taking it every day like clockwork?”

  “Yeah, of course. I mean—I think so. I’ve been a little overwhelmed, what with everything that’s been going on here. And distracted because of Mason.” And how I felt about him. And how scared I was of getting any closer to him for fear that it would end up going haywire fast.

  It was a self-fulfilling prophecy. I was pregnant, and he surely wouldn’t be happy about it. We’d only been dating a few months. Nothing changed a relationship quicker than a reveal like that.

  “I just…don’t get it,” I said, lamely.

  “There’s nothing to get, baby doll,” Peggy said. “You’re pregnant. Figuring out why or how it happened won’t change the fact that you are.”

  “I know. Guess I’m just fixating on it to avoid thinking about the other stuff.”

  “Other stuff, like telling Mason?”

  “Yeah, and what happens after that. And how much everything’s going to change.” I pressed a fist to my forehead, biting back hot tears. “I mean, I’ve barely gotten settled in Stoneport. I don’t have any of my business stuff set up. I’ve got a puppy, and a half-whole house, and no prospects. My ex-boyfriend is behind bars, but he still tried to murder me, and I’m in love with a man who I… God, he seems so perfect, but I don’t know if I can fully trust him or anyone else ever again. How can I when there are so many signs I shouldn’t?”

  “What signs? The whole packing-to-leave thing?”

  “Yeah, and… I don’t know. Just everything is chaos, and now I’m pregnant. I’m not trying to make myself into the victim here, but damn, this couldn’t have come at a worse time.”

  “Interesting,” Peggy said.

  I blinked, staring at the base of the sink, but taking in none of its detail. “Care to explain that?”

  “Well, you’re talking about all of this stuff, but I’ve noticed that you haven’t once mentioned the possibility that you might not keep the baby. That you’ll give it up or…”

  “That’s not an option,” I said and pressed my hand to my stomach. “I would never… I take responsibility for things, Peg, you know that. And this is my baby.” My baby. The thought replaced the mantra about being pregnant.

  My baby. I’m going to have a baby. I’m going to… This is good, isn’t it? It can be. It can be good.

  In truth, I’d always wanted a child, but I’d never thought it would materialize as a possibility due to the nature of my work and the fact that Kieran would’ve rather eat
en his own arm off than even talk about the prospect.

  “I just need to figure out next steps,” I said, softly.

  “That’s what I’m here for, sister girl.” Peggy’s voice was a balm. This was how it’d always been with us. Sisters who’d been through the worst. Who’d dealt with a half-crazy mother and a father who’d pretty much forgotten us after she’d left. “All right,” she said, “so, first thing’s first, you need to tell Mason. You just have to.”

  “I will,” I said, firmly. “I’ll go over there right now, right after the call. But Peg, what if he…”

  “If he doesn’t want to be involved, that’s his loss. Sister, you’ve got me, you’ve got Dave, you’ve got Ty, and you’ve got your little baby now. Worst case scenario, you’ll move up to New Orleans, and we can have our babies together and help each other out. I’ve got your back, just like you’ve always had mine.”

  Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I wiped them away.

  “But that’s worst case scenario. You don’t know what he’ll say yet, and you’ve got to know, because that’s crucial to your next phase of planning,” Peg continued.

  “You’re right,” I replied through the tears. “You’re right. OK. I’m just going to head over there and tell him. Right now.”

  “Do it,” Peg said. “And don’t forget to call me back when you’re done. I’m going to be staying up for this, so make it worth my while.”

  “I will,” I laughed, and it was the first one all day. The first real bit of mirth ever since I’d started suspecting that the absence of my monthly visitor wasn’t due to stress. “Thanks, sis.”

  “Anytime.”

  I hung up and exhaled. This was it. The moment of truth.

  Chapter 31

  Rebecca

  I checked Ty was OK for water and food then made my way out onto the porch, breathing so fast I was on the brink of hyperventilation. “Fine. You’ll be fine.”

  The moon had risen high and cast light over the street. The house across the road was silent and dark, empty as usual, but down the street, Mason’s lights were on. Two cars were parked in his drive.

 

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