I crumple the paper with one hand and toss it into my garbage can. I most definitely will not be calling her. It was fun but I’ve got no desire to see her again.
I think of the last few women I’ve been with, the women I’ve picked up at bars and clubs and even the grocery store. I can’t imagine sleeping with any of them. Something seems different inside me.
I take off my clothes and jump in the shower with the intention of going straight to bed once I’m clean. I need to sleep. I need to get this girl out of my head and I need to focus on myself.
On my career. On my goals.
Today was a blip, a mistake. I can’t let myself get carried away like that. Getting a hard-on at work is so unprofessional it’s not even funny.
The water washes over me and I stand under the showerhead with my eyes closed. I’ve had so many gorgeous women practically throw themselves at me in my office and I’ve never been anything less than professional. I don’t understand why this one is different. Even the way she moves and walks seems so fluid and natural.
I can’t understand how she’s never had an orgasm because every pore of hers seems to exude sex. I think of the way she looked at me when she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. She had to have been thinking the same thing as me, had to have been. Her eyes left nothing to the imagination.
The minute I think of her open mouth my cock gets hard. The water from the shower is running down my chest, down my abs and dripping off the end of my half-hard cock. I shouldn’t do this but I can’t stop myself.
I think of her eyes, her lips, the way her lips parted and her tongue slid out slightly for me. Maybe she’d do that for me, on her knees in front of me. I grab my cock and it’s already harder than rock. I start stroking myself, putting my other hand on the shower wall for balance. The water is running down my back as I stroke myself faster and faster.
I remember the way her smell filled my nostrils when I was next to her. I want to smell that again, to be surrounded by her scent. I think of how she looked when she sat on the edge of the examination table and told me she’d never come. The look in her eyes that was pure determination and stubbornness and fire.
All I wanted to do was rip her tight jeans off and shove my face between her legs right then and there. I want to be the one to make her come. I want to show her how good it can feel. I want to hear what her sexy little voice sounds like when she’s screaming my name, or what it feels like to have her hands threaded into my hair, pushing my face into her slit.
I bet she’s never had someone who truly enjoys the taste of her pussy. She must taste so good. The thought of her juices on my tongue makes my balls tighten up towards my shaft. I feel my orgasm start in the pit of my stomach and all of a sudden it’s ripping through me and I can’t help the guttural scream I make as I come.
I feel every inch of my body twitch and tingle as my orgasm grows and fades. I’m breathing heavily, water still running all over my body. I close my eyes and let the water wash over me. I don’t remember the last time I came that hard, and that was just at the thought of her.
I open my eyes and know that I can’t see her again. If she makes another appointment I’ll have to pass her on to another doctor. There’s no way I can be in the same room as her if I want to be a true professional.
It’s the only way.
I clean myself up and step out of the shower. I walk to my bed and lay down, hoping that sleep will take me far, far away from Valerie Brooks. One night only with women, and no sex anywhere near my work. I have these rules for a reason, and I know she’s not worth the trouble.
I close my eyes and Valerie Brooks’ face is painted on my eyelids. Mouth open, tongue out, eyes on fire.
Chapter 9 – Valerie
It’s Sunday, and I wake up and practically jump out of bed. My package should be arriving today, since I paid for the overnight delivery. I try to keep the thought out of my mind. When I think about my new toy I think about Doctor O’Neill, and that’s not a road I want to go down. Yesterday was too embarrassing, I’m not used to not being in control of my emotions or my body that way.
I get up and make myself a cup of coffee. I need to distract myself. I know I’ll have at least thirty to forty email to catch up on. Saturdays are big viewing days and are usually one of the busiest days of the week. Taking the day off yesterday was nice, as eventful and stressful as it was, but I need to use today to catch up on work otherwise Monday will be a nightmare.
I fire up my laptop and open my emails. Sure enough, I have 42 unread emails. I start at the bottom, working my way up chronologically. I click on the first email and my eyes glaze over immediately as I glance at a reminder that the fridges at the office are emptied weekly on Friday evenings. I quickly click the delete button as my thoughts flick to yesterday.
To Doctor O’Neill.
He was so manly, so raw. I remember the way the cloth from his shirt brushed against my skin when he put the stethoscope on my back. It was like fire trailing in a line down my spine. I wanted to feel his hands, feel the warmth of his skin against mine. I wanted to know what his body looked like under those clothes.
I shake my head. No. He’s my new doctor, I absolutely cannot be having these thoughts. He was nothing but professional for the entire consultation. It was me who was a puddle of desire. He heard my heart hammering in my chest and saw my cheeks blushing whenever I looked at him.
He could probably read me like a book, and was probably laughing at me right now. The orgasm-less girl who can’t control herself around an attractive man.
I get up and pace across my kitchen. I’m not usually like this. When I sell a million-dollar house to some big shot, I’m never intimidated by them. I can close any deal. I’ve had countless rich, attractive men try their luck with me but I’m always unfazed. My colleagues have gone as far as to call me a shark!
I don’t understand why this was different, why I had so little control over myself. Maybe it was because he caught me at my most vulnerable, but he’s my doctor, for crying out loud. If I can’t tell him what’s wrong with my then who would I talk to?! It doesn’t matter that his eyelashes perfectly frame his eyes and he has this dark, brooding look about him. Every time he looked at me I just wanted to press my lips against his and see what he tasted like.
I go back to my computer. When I throw myself in my work I can get anything out of my mind. I click on an email with an interesting subject line: “Leads you might be interested in.� It’s from another agent I get along well with. I open the email up and read through quickly. There are a few attached photos of a beautiful SoHo loft, not yet on the market. If it goes on the market it’ll be gone within two or three days, judging by the photos and the location.
He says if I know of any buyers, the sale is mine. I check the address listed in the email and grab my car keys. I always do a drive-by of any property, just to be sure there aren’t any glaring problems. It would probably be faster to take the subway, but I know a drive will distract me.
I hop in my car and head towards the address. It’s such a beautiful part of Manhattan and I always love when I get to sell there. I drive through the busy streets and wind my way through the city.
As usual, it’s abuzz with life. I make it to the address and see a beautiful old building that’s been restored to perfection. I park up across the street and check my phone. Apparently the place is a huge loft with one bedroom, worth upwards of 3 million.
I have a walk around the block to see some of the amenities nearby. I’m happy to see shops, restaurants, galleries, a school all within walking distance. I spend thirty minutes wandering around, getting to know the area so I can sell it when the time comes. I always like to be prepared, but
if I’m honest this thing will sell itself.
I stop in at a coffee shop on the opposite corner from the building and order a latte. I take a sip as I step outside. It’s good. Just another little perk of coming back here to sell this place. Satisfied, I jump back in my car and head towards home.
I can feel the excitement of an impending sale. This is what I’m good at. I love the hum of a sale and the rush I get from closing a deal. This property is in a gorgeous location, perfect for a number of the rich young professionals I deal with. I have a buyer in mind already, and I can’t wait to show it. I feel like myself again as I drive back home, composing my response to my colleague in my head as I drive.
I practically run up the stairs to my tiny apartment and almost trip over the box placed at the front door.
I look down, confused for a second until the last 24 hours come rushing back to me. I pick up the small box and am surprised at how light it is.
It’s my new toy, or “aid� as the doctor called it.
I think of Doctor O’Neill, and how he’d looked at me right before sticking the tongue depressor in my mouth. The heat between my legs erupts all of a sudden at the thought of his dark eyes drilling into me. All of a sudden the clarity of my drive is gone and I’m nervous again. I hate this feeling.
I won’t let myself be dragged down like this! I square my shoulders and walk into my apartment, closing the door behind me. I am a confident, successful young woman and I can do this. Most women have vibrators and most women have orgasms! I tear open the brown packing box and look at the sleek packaging for my new vibrator. It’s black with silver indented lettering on it.
“Girl’s Best Friend�
The top of the box lifts off and my heart beats a bit faster. It’s smoother than I imagined, almost soft when I lift it out. It’s about six inches long with a plastic white handle. The rest of it is a bright pink colour. It doesn’t look like the other vibrators I’ve seen, it’s a lot less intimidating. I press one of the buttons and it starts vibrating in my hand. I panic, pressing another button to make it stop.
I giggle and press the button again, three times this time to see how hard the vibrations get. They travel up my arm and down my core until I can almost feel them in my centre. I drop my bag and head to my bedroom, ready to see if it really is a Girl’s Best Friend.
Chapter 10 – Clay
I’m going crazy. I just woke up and looked out my window and could have sworn I saw Valerie Brooks walking out of my local cafe and into a car. I know from her file that she lives nowhere near SoHo, so either she was on the opposite end of town for some strange reason or I’m seeing visions of her.
I’m guessing it’s visions. It must have been another leggy blonde. I couldn’t even see her face, how could I know it was her! I’m obviously reeling from yesterday. I shouldn’t have thought of her in the shower like that, it only made her front and centre in my mind.
But that girl at the coffee shop moved as gracefully and fluidly as Valerie had yesterday. What if it was her? Maybe I’ll run into her outside the office, and if I pass her onto another doctor, then technically my golden rule wouldn’t be broken….
I take a deep breath. Just because I wouldn’t be breaking my rules on a technicality doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.
I’m dreaming anyways! Why would Valerie Brooks be buying coffee from my local cafe! There are eight and a half million people in New York, there’s no way she would be buying coffee from my neighbourhood cafe on a Sunday morning.
I need to get this girl out of my head and focus on my rules. Nothing gets in the way of work, especially not women.
I turn away from the window and run my fingers through my hair. Last night is the first Saturday night in months that I haven’t brought a girl home. I look at my empty bed and take a deep breath. I need to clear my head, this has already gone on too long.
I slip on my gym shorts and a t-shirt and head downstairs. Running will clear my head. I put my headphones on and walk out into the Sunday morning sun. It’s actually pretty nice to be up a bit earlier and not have to kick a girl out of my bed. There aren’t any scribbled phone numbers to chuck out this morning.
I zone out a few minutes into my run, and the emptiness in my head is like a sweet release. There’s just me and the pavement and the wind blowing past me. For the first time since she stepped into my office yesterday I’m able to calm my chaotic thoughts and refocus myself. This is me. I’m disciplined and driven and am not distracted by something as trivial as a woman.
Step by step, mile by mile, I distance myself from yesterday. My heart is pounding and I’m sweaty and I feel better already. I’m running fast but I feel like my world has finally stopped spinning around me. I’m in control again.
I round the final corner back towards my apartment when the music in my headphones stops and my ringtone fills my ears. I slow down and pull my phone out of my shorts pocket, looking at the caller ID. It’s my real estate agent.
“Chris, how are you?� I ask as I take the call.
“I’m great, Clay, real great. Sorry to call you on a Sunday but I just wanted to keep you in the loop. I put out some feelers about your property and the top sales agent in the area has said she has a buyer in mind who would snap it up in an instant.�
I pause. This is good news. I wanted to get rid of my apartment in New York to give myself the money and mobility to move to Seattle, where the top cardiologist is located. This will give me way more financial freedom. This is the goal I’ve been working towards.
This sale is the first step to reaching that goal. So why am I not excited? I feel a pang of disappointment and an image of Valerie Brooks sitting on my examination table flashes through my mind. I shake my head.
“Wow, Chris, that’s good news. Thanks for the call, I really appreciate it.�
“No problem Clay. I’ll try to set up a viewing for this week, if that works for you.�
“Sounds good, let me know and I’ll have the place ready. Talk to you soon.�
I hang up the phone and stand still for a moment. I feel like the ground has fallen away under my feet and I don’t even know why. I can’t stop thinking about her, seeing her in my mind. I haven’t even had a real conversation with her. She’s my patient!
Slowly, I make my way back to my apartment. I look around at the loft that I refurbished myself ten years ago when I moved to New York. It’s worth about ten times as much as when I bought it, but I can’t help but think about all the work that’s gone into it over the years. I’ve done this myself, I think.
I put myself through school and I practically built this apartment with my own hands. This is what I’ve been working towards, so why do I feel like it’s wrong? Every fibre of my being has been working towards one goal, and I’ve had a laser-like focus the entire time. And now…
I’m back in the shower and I think of yesterday, being under this water thinking of Valerie. Val, as her friends call her. I won’t, I can’t think of her like that again. First thing tomorrow morning I’ll pass her on to another doctor at the practice and forget she ever walked into my life.
Chapter 11 – Valerie
It’s a mix of excitement, nervousness, and embarrassment when I lie back in bed with my new toy. I don’t even know why I’m embarrassed, there’s no one else here.
I’ve taken off my clothes and turned the lights off. I get under the covers and then change my mind and lie down on top of my duvet. I grab my new vibrator and feel the smoothness of the silicon shaft. I turn it on to the lowest setting and feel the vibrations in my hand, sensing how they travel up my arm.
Here goes nothing, I think to myself.
Slowly, gingerly, I move the vibrator down to my mound. I put it down on my clit but I jump back right away.
It’s way too intense, even at the lowest setting.
I move the vibrator back towards my skin, starting at the top of my mound and moving from one side of my slit to the other, staying on top of my lips. The vibrations travel through me and I close my eyes, exploring the sensation in every part of my body. It’s different, but not unpleasant. I move the vibe closer to my slit and feel my legs fall open. I move it lightly all over my slit and now I understand. The vibrations travel deep into my centre and the warmth grows inside me.
This is intense, in a good way.
I lay back, relaxing as much as possible as I close my eyes. My free hand moves to my breast, massaging it gently as the vibrator makes slow circles. My thoughts flick to yesterday, to the way Doctor O’Neill smelled and how it felt to have his hands on my abdomen. I imagine what he must look like under his clothes, trim and muscular and strong. I know I shouldn’t think of him but I can’t help it.
He filled me with a desire I didn’t know I had. I want to taste his lips and feel his skin against mine. I want his hands against my bare body, undressing me, pulling me into him. I felt the heat of his hands yesterday and I know they would be fire on me. He could bend me over, throw me around with that hard, muscular body of his.
I turn the vibrations up as I think of him touching me, teasing me. The pleasure grows in my centre in a way I’ve never experienced and I sink deeper into it, imagining my doctor pushing me down on his examination table and spreading my legs.
I’ve never felt immediate, raw desire the way I did yesterday and I want to feel it again. He’s touching my ass, pressing himself against me until his scent fills my nostrils. I slip the vibrator inside me and imagine it’s him, and my pussy contracts around it. Around his cock.
Knocked Up... Again!: A Secret Baby Second Chance Romance Page 23