by Amy Brent
“Are you sure?” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to take away something you've been looking forward to.”
He touched his fingers under her chin. “Hey, remember what I always say? I don't do anything half-assed or average. I'm going to be a father. And that means I'm going to be the most kick-ass extreme dad there's ever been. From now on, I've only got one thing to focus on, and that's our baby.”
She smiled, the tension fading away from her chest. She pulled him close and hugged him tight. “Oh, thank God. I thought...”
“What? You thought I'd leave you or something?” He shook his head and stroked her hair. “No way, babe. I'm in this for the long haul. When I commit to something, I put it above everything else. And that means from this day forward, you, and this baby, are my number one priorities.”
They sat together that night and spent hours talking about all of the plans they'd need to make. Ben had an endless stream of questions. He asked how far along she was, when she thought the conception had actually occurred, when she was due, and how she was feeling. He also had a lot of medical questions about hormones, morning sickness, and everything else Sharise would be going through over the next few months. She explained everything as best she could, though she knew she would need to get him a few books for expectant fathers before all of his questions could be answered.
Later in the night, he started kissing her, his hands roaming over her rich, caramel skin. He was more tender and gentle than she was used to, almost as if he were afraid of hurting her. He put a hand on her voluptuous thigh, and started sliding it higher, then pulled away nervously.
She grabbed his hand and guided it slowly between her legs. “It's okay, baby,” she whispered. “Touch me.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. He looked up at her nervously. The man who wouldn't hesitate to climb over a stone wall, swim through ice water, and risk breaking a leg running through the mud, now hesitated to touch her in an intimate moment.
“It's okay,” she said. “You won't hurt me.”
He started rubbing her gently, and her body felt warm. She was used to him being eager and energetic when they fucked. Their times together had been intimate, but not usually this tender. “I won't hurt the baby?”
She smiled at him and kissed his forehead. “It's okay, dear. Trust me. Just be gentle.”
She took his hands and led him into the bedroom. They shared a deep, intimate kiss, while she slowly undid his pants and dropped them to the floor. Every moment was drawn out, savored as if it would never return. Her fingers caressed his firm muscles while he tenderly touched her most precious places. They climbed onto the bed and he lowered himself atop her, holding his body up a few inches from her, as if he were afraid of crushing her. She gently coaxed him to relax, to press his body against hers. And when he slid himself inside of her, instead of the hard, eager thrusting she was used to, his every movement was slow and deliberate. He made love to her with the utmost care, moving slowly while she stroked his hair and his face. She whispered softly into his ear, spurring him on, telling him when he hit just the right spot. Then she pulled him close and cradled his head against her shoulder, holding him tight while he built up to the slow climb towards a powerful, mind-blowing orgasm.
Afterwards, they laid there together in the dark. Ben gently placed a hand over her stomach. She took his hand and slid it lower, over her womb, where the new life inside of her was slowly growing.
“Sharise?” he whispered into the darkness.
“Yes, Ben?”
“Do you think I'm going to be a good father?”
She looked into his eyes in the darkened room. She had never seen him so unsure of himself. This was the man who had refused her advice as a doctor and run a race with a leg that had barely healed after a break. The man who had pursued her with confidence and certainty, never hesitating to go after what he wanted. But now, when faced with something bigger than anything he had achieved in his life, he seemed uncertain. Even scared.
“I think you're going to be wonderful,” she said.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I know you'll provide our baby with everything it needs,” she said. “I know you'll love it and care for it and help it to grow and learn. I have no doubt that this child will grow up with supporting parents and an amazing life.”
She thought about it for a moment, then added one more thing. “There's just one thing you need to promise me.”
“What's that?” He laid there for a moment, tense, waiting to hear her question.
She smirked at him. “If our child ever gets hurt, like every child inevitably does, don't tell them to 'tough it out' like their macho dad always does. For once, listen to your doctor.”
He laughed and kissed her, holding her tight. “Definitely,” he said. “I promise I'll keep our baby safe. And when they grow up, they are never running with the Tough Mudders. That stuff is way too dangerous.”
“Well,” Sharise said, grinning at him, “it's about damn time you finally admitted it.”
GAME CHANGER
Jillian was on the phone with her bank when her office clerk, Kate, knocked on her door and told her that her next patient had arrived.
“Tell him I'm with another patient,” Jillian said. She'd been on hold for almost an hour during her lunch break, and she wasn't about to hang up now. She'd been trying to get a hold of someone at the bank for two weeks, and she was tired of constantly being transferred from one representative to another. To make matters worse, the bank closed an hour before she got off work each day, making it all but impossible for her to find time to go down to the branch and deal with her issues in person.
“I don't think he wants to wait,” Kate said. “He was rather...demanding.”
“Well, he'll just have to deal with it,” Jillian said. “It's called the 'waiting room' for a reason.”
Kate left to tell the patient that there would be a short delay. Jillian remained on hold, silently cursing her bank for making her go through so many hoops. Her financial situation was in dire straights, and she desperately needed to refinance her mortgage and consolidate her credit cards and student loan debt. More than half of her monthly budget these days was payments on debt, and it was more than she could handle. But fixing the problem required getting approval from the right people, and they seemed intent on making her run the gauntlet by being transferred to just about every department in the bank before anyone would give her an answer.
Another ten minutes passed before someone finally picked up on the other end. “Thank you for holding, this is Madeline speaking, how may I help you?”
“Yes,” Jillian said, rubbing a hand over her eyes. “I've been waiting for over an hour. I'm supposed to talk to you about my credit analysis...”
“I'm sorry, for that you're going to have to speak to our credit specialists. That's another department. Let me put you on hold.”
“No, please don't put me on hold again!”
Cheesy music was the only answer she got, along with a recorded message telling her that her call was very important and would be answered in the order it was received.
Jillian hung up the phone, wishing she still used an old fashioned land line so she could slam the receiver down in rage. Angrily jabbing the “end call” button just didn't have the same therapeutic benefit.
Kate stuck her head in the door. “Jillian? Your patient is getting, well, impatient.”
Jillian rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “All right, all right. I'm coming. Take him into Exam Room Two.”
Jillian got up and pulled on her white coat, buttoning it over her ample frame. The coat was a must-have when she was dealing with patients. It was a symbol of status and authority, and when dealing with difficult patients, it helped remind them of the proper dynamics between them. She'd dealt with too many people over the years who didn't think a physical therapist was the same as a “real doctor,” as if the mountain of studen
t loan debt she'd acquired hadn't funded a serious education.
She went into Exam Room Two to find her patient already sitting there with his shirt off. He had a decent physique, though considering the number of athletes Jillian worked with on a regular basis, it was nothing she found particularly impressive. Though from the smug grin on the guy's face, he was clearly expecting more of a reaction from her.
“Hello, Mr. Walker,” Jillian said, reading his name off his chart. “My name is Jillian. Why don't you tell me what's bothering you today?” The chart already had a description of the patient's personal information and symptoms: Thomas Walker, age 39, single, suffering from back pain due to a sports-related injury. Though Jillian always liked to hear the explanations right from the patients' mouths. The way they described their symptoms could sometimes tell her more about their condition than the vague explanation on the chart.
“Well, I had a bit of a crash a couple of weeks ago,” Thomas said, stretching his back and raising his arms over his head to work out some kinks. “I'm into extreme sports. Rock climbing, ice climbing, snowboarding, mountain biking. There's this really rough trail in upstate New York, and it had rained the night before. I wiped out on a patch of mud. Rolled down half the mountain before I caught myself. Totally trashed the bike.” He laughed and shook his head, clearly proud of himself for the disaster he'd gotten into. Or maybe, Jillian thought, he was just proud of having survived it.
“And that's when you threw your back out?” Jillian asked.
“Yup. My regular doctor says it's nothing serious, so he sent me to you.”
Jillian bit the inside of her cheek to keep from scoffing at the way Thomas seemed to dismiss her job as “nothing serious.” She was sure that if she said anything about it, he would say that he hadn't meant anything by it, and imply she was being too sensitive. She'd heard it all before.
“Well, let's take a look,” she said.
She ran him through a basic examination and tested how far he could stretch and bend without pain. Then she started working him through some stretching exercises designed to loosen up his muscles. He started complaining about the pain almost right away.
“You need to work through the pain,” she told him. She pressed her hand against a sore spot on his back while she forced him to slowly straighten out. “Take it slow, and respect the pain, but don't let it control you. Otherwise, your body will start to grow weaker because you're avoiding using it.”
“Well, I definitely want to keep using my body,” he said. “In more ways than one.”
Jillian scoffed and rolled her eyes, then deliberately pushed Thomas into straightening his back so that he got a quick jab of pain in the sore muscles. She hoped that would teach him to focus his attention on the therapy and not on flirting.
“Lay face down on the table,” she told him. He did as he was told, and she worked him through some more stretches, lifting his shoulders off the table and arching his back to stretch it out. The stretches were similar to some yoga poses and served the same purpose, helping to strengthen his core muscles and restore the body's natural harmony.
“So, Jillian,” Thomas asked as she worked him through the stretches, “what do you do when you're not manhandling attractive men?”
Jillian frowned and gave him another painful twist. He grunted, but chuckled. “I don't usually discuss my social life with patients,” she said. “I'd like to keep things professional, if you don't mind.”
“Hey, I'm just being friendly. The way I see it, I'm going to be seeing you every month for a while now. We might as well get to know each other.”
She had him sit up and stretch his arms overhead with his fingers interlaced. Then she guided him through stretches from one side to the other, designed to help with balance and mobility. She tried to ignore his question, but the awkward silence that started to drag out made her uncomfortable. “I don't get a lot of free time,” she said. “But when I have the time, I like to garden.”
“Gardening, eh?” He shrugged, then kept going through the stretching exercises. “Not really my thing, but at least it's outdoors. You ever do anything more physical? Hiking maybe?”
“Not really,” she said. “I like being outdoors, but I'm not really in good enough shape for something so strenuous.”
“Well, I think you're a pretty good shape.” He eyed her curves, smirking.
She rolled her eyes, though at the same time her face heated up. It had been awhile since a man had looked at her that way. It was almost a pity that he was a patient.
They spent the next hour working through more exercises to get the kinks out of Thomas's back. At the end of the session, she had him put his shirt back on and told him he could make another appointment with Kate for his next session.
“Listen,” he said as he was buttoning up his shirt, “if you're not doing anything later, I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know you a little better. In a less 'professional' context, that is.”
“I'm sorry,” she said. “I don't really have the time, and it's really best if we keep this completely professional.”
“Well,” he said, eyeing her with a leering smirk, “there might be a way we can get more personal while keeping it professional, in a manner of speaking.”
“What do you mean?” She frowned at him.
He stepped closer, until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Come on,” he said. “I think you know what I mean. You're a beautiful woman.” He ran his fingers down her cheek, making her shiver. “Surely you have an idea what a guy like me would want out of a girl like you.”
She shivered and licked her lips. Yes, she knew exactly what he wanted. And he was attractive enough that she almost considered it. But she couldn't afford to get involved with a patient. She could lose her job over something like that, and she couldn't afford to be unemployed.
“I'm sorry, Thomas. But I'm not looking to date anyone right now, especially not a patient. I'm your therapist.”
“Yes,” he said. “You take care of my...physical needs. Like you said, I just need to make an appointment with your assistant out there, and you'll work your magic to make me feel better, right?” His hand slid lower, sliding down her side to her hip.
“Not like that,” she whispered. her mouth suddenly felt dry.
“I'd pay quite a bit more than your usual fee,” he said. He looked deep into her eyes. She licked her lips, trembling. “Name your price.”
“You...you want to pay me,” she said, her voice hoarse. “For...for that?”
He shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that. Keeping it professional, like you said.”
She laughed and shook her head, then slipped away from him, moving across the room. “I'm not that kind of girl,” she said.
“Not even for the right price?”
He grabbed his chart and took the pen attached to it, then scrawled a figure on the bottom of the page. He handed it to her.
Her eyes nearly shot out of her head when she saw the price he was offering. Jillian had never thought of herself as the kind of girl who would sleep with a man for money, but considering her financial troubles, and how much he was offering, it was certainly tempting. She'd be able to pay off one of her maxed-out credit cards after just one night with him.
She actually found herself considering it, but she shook her head. “No. No, I'm sorry. I couldn't.”
He shrugged, a confident smile still on his lips. “Well, if you change your mind, the offer stands. And it wouldn't just have to be a one time deal.” His eyes roamed her body once more, and Jillian felt exposed, even with her white coat on. “I'm sure that once I had a taste of you, I couldn't be able to give you up.”
He left the room. Jillian leaned against the table, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. She'd never had such an encounter with a man before. Sure, she'd had plenty of men proposition her. But none had ever been so...aggressive. Confident.
She looked at the number he'd written down, thinking about how much she cou
ld do with so much money. It was more than she earned in a month. Though she couldn't seriously let herself consider such a thing. It was wrong.
Kate let her next patient in, and Jillian got to work helping the young man work through exercising his leg to recover from a hamstring injury. Though the entire time, her mind kept drifting to Thomas, and thinking about their next appointment together.
* * *
A few days later, Jillian finally got tired of all the phone calls to her bank, and she took a personal day from work to deal with her financial issues. She sat waiting at the bank for more than an hour while a credit specialist looked over her credit report. When he finally called her into his office to discuss what he'd found, the news wasn't good.
“I'm really sorry, Miss Miller, but there's no way we can approve you for a consolidation loan at this time.”
“But you don't understand,” Jillian said, clutching her purse. “I'm drowning here. If you'll just give me a chance...”
“I wish I could help,” he said. “I really do. But it's out of my control.” He spread his hands apologetically.”
“I don't see what the problem is,” she said. “I've got a job. I can make the payments.”
He sighed and flipped through the pages of her credit report. “First off, you've missed a few payments, and that hurt your credit score.”
“That was over a year ago,” Jillian said. “I haven't missed a payment since. And besides, if you help me consolidate, that'll lower my monthly payments. So you see, I'll be more likely to keep up with them.”
“It's not that simple,” he said. “Plus, there are other factors. You have such a high volume of debt, and you've had too many credit inquiries lately.”
“So you won't give me a loan just because I've been asking for loans?”
He frowned at her and set the report down. “Miss Miller, I'm sorry. But the decision is final.”