Built for Pleasure

by Sarah J. Brooks

  Still stunned by his powerful energy, I barely noticed that he lifted me in his arms and we were now through that mysterious door and into what turned out to be his bedroom. I could smell his aftershave as he laid me on the pillows, sitting next to me as a doctor would a patient. His fingers slid along my arms, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. When he reached the spaghetti straps of my sundress, one short tug on each and I was totally vulnerable. His hands went to the corners of the dress apron and with excruciating slowness, he peeled down my top until I was naked from the waist up. His eyes traveled over my upper tummy and then crept to my breasts, his hands moving to caress my nipples. He bent low and took one in his mouth, breaking away only long enough to kiss me before he returned to his objective. My nipples were hard, and I felt myself arching upward, reaching for his mouth. He began sucking on me and at the same time, I felt his hand beneath my skirt, slowly sliding up and to his great surprise, finding nothing there but bare skin.

  He drew in his breath, and then whipped the skirt completely upward, pushing my knees apart so he could study me. My mouth opened to object, but he covered it with his own and somewhere along the way, I forgot what I was going to say. In a flurry of mindless need, our clothes found their way to the floor and the arm of a side chair and he was stretched over the top of me, naked and bronzed from head to toe. I let my eyes follow down and yes, the stories about the Adam’s apple were absolutely true. He was magnificent. His hands were traveling over the length of me, touching spots I never knew were triggers. He was right, he did know things, and now I was lucky enough to feel them.

  “I want you,” he rasped.

  God help me, but I couldn’t do anything, but nod. He hadn’t even waited for my permission, his hand already in the nightstand drawer, removing the little package that would keep me from becoming a mother. I found a strange fascination in watching him blow in it and then unroll it over his length. I may have even drooled a little, wishing my mouth had been in its place.

  He pushed my knees wide. His fingers massaged my clit until I could begin to feel a warm moisture rushing in. His head bent, and he kissed me there, sucking the bud of my clit gently between his lips and tongue. I closed my eyes, rolling my head backward and giving in to the sensation. I felt my hips bucking upward, inviting him inside. He didn’t need to be asked twice, but slowly and smoothly inserted himself into my craving depth. Instinctively, I tightened my vaginal muscles around him, unwilling to let him withdraw. But he did, not once, but over and over and over again; each time with a greater ferocity than the last. Even though he stretched me, I seemed to adjust, and I felt filled and dominated. My God, it felt wonderful.

  My hands reached upward, my fingers locking behind his neck. I pulled his face down toward me, craving his kisses as his cock plunged even more deeply. I had a strange sensation to curl up into a ball, to somehow shorten the distance between where his tongue fucked my mouth and his cock, my vagina. I had the oddest notion that they were connected and should the two be rolled together, he could plunge completely through me. As insane as that may have sounded at the time, it was part of a craving to have more, more. Whatever it took, I wanted more.

  “Brice,” I whispered.

  “I know, I know,” he answered me. At that moment we both let go. Ecstasy burst in my head and then traveled down my spine, exploding into the grand finale within my pussy. I felt Brice stiffen and then a strange, triumphant groan came from him. He became rigid from head to toe. Once it broke over us, it lasted long, excruciatingly wonderful moments, and then it left, a honey warmth of completion in its wake.

  “What was that?” I breathed, and he smiled and rolled onto the bed at my side.

  “That, my dear Mina, was you growing up.”

  Chapter 6

  Brice

  I hadn’t planned for that to happen, but once I saw her in my kitchen, her guilty fingers looking for clues of how I lived, I could see nothing but the woman who had occupied my thoughts all those years and there she was, in my domain.

  She was everything I wanted. Beautiful, smart, witty, honest, resourceful, and best yet, she understood me, and we shared a history that reached back into childhood. My family loved her. I suppose in a way I’d loved her, too, but at that moment, I realized it was in a very different way from my family. As soon as I saw her at that coffee shop across from that pond scum, Bretherton, I recognized I would do anything in my power to protect and to have her.

  There was one huge problem, though. I couldn’t have her, not in the way I really wanted. Not yet. I had too much to do, and there were too many people depending on me to get it done. I needed the freedom and flexibility of being alone to put in the kind of hours and focus it would require getting that accomplished.

  I’d made a mistake in making love to her. She’d never understand that I hadn’t used her but been bewitched and possessive, and premature. She deserved to be courted slowly, to have her feelings considered and now I’d robbed her of that. I couldn’t continue to see her because it would consume me. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her and I’d throw everything else to the wayside to be with her and give her my full attention.

  Worse yet, she didn’t know my plans or how I would be able to carry them out. She didn’t know about the money. If I told her about the money after making love, she’d be hurt that I hadn’t told her up front. It would seem like I didn’t trust her to care for me without the money. If I waited and told her later, it would seem like I’d kept a huge secret from her deliberately, and while in a manner of speaking, I was doing just that, she couldn’t possibly understand my need to put her second and perfect strangers, people with no money and little future, first. Was I crazy? No, I knew exactly what I was. I was using my own moral compass to plot her life in addition to mine, and that wasn’t fair to her.

  I looked at her lying on my bed, asleep. I’d left her when I remembered the primed grill on the roof and then I’d stayed up there with sheer guilt. Out of character, I woke her up, bundling her clothes and laying them on the bed next to her. “Need to take you home, Mina. I’m sorry about dinner, but you have work in the morning and so do I. We sort of got carried away and will have to finish this another time.”

  She sat up slowly and fingered her dress. I was being such an ass. I knew it and couldn’t do a thing about it but follow through. I had to make her hate me, so she could salvage some pride out of what had just happened. It was the only thing I could think to do.

  “Brice?” she said in a childlike voice. “Did I do something wrong?”

  If I’d had a knife, I would have stabbed myself in the heart at that moment. Instead, I steeled myself and answered, “No, I’m just too busy to let you stay over.” I could have slapped her across the face and not hurt her more than the words I just spoke. She looked shocked and hurt and then the look turned to anger. I knew she felt used.

  “Was that revenge for that night years ago?” she snapped, pulling on her dress, the only article of clothing she’d been wearing.

  I looked away and it made things worse, as though I didn’t want to see her nakedness then.

  “No.” That was all I said.

  Mina pulled herself together quickly and pushed past me as she left the bedroom. She grabbed her purse and jerked my door open, slamming it.

  I followed. “I was going to drive you home,” I called down to her as she traipsed down the stairway.

  “Fuck you, Brice Davidson!” she shouted over her shoulder and then she was gone. I knew she could walk, it wasn’t that far. Or, she could hire one of the rickshaws that patrolled the street.

  I turned back into my apartment and shut the door.

  That was the first time since I was five-years-old, that I cried.

  Chapter 7

  Mina

  I cried all night and my loneliness made the tiny cottage feel cavernous. How could I let that happen? I knew the answer. I was infatuated with him. I wanted him at any cost. I pounded my pillow with my fist, the fru
stration and self-loathing making me ill. I finally fell asleep sometime shortly before dawn and for the first time in my life, I missed work and didn’t call in. It was a reason for them to fire me, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I felt like my life was over.

  I was missed, however. My cell buzzed about ten. It was Marcy. “Are you okay?”

  I bit back the nasty words I wanted to say. “Just not feeling well.”

  “They’re looking for you, you know. This isn’t like you. Want me to come over?”

  “No!” I shouted into the phone before I thought. “No,” I repeated, more softly. “I’m not feeling well, and it might be contagious. I just don’t want to expose you.”

  “If you need something, I can leave it outside your door.”

  “No, nothing you can bring me,” I said, but my thoughts said otherwise. You can bring me a sabre and a bucket to hold the blood as I make him a eunuch, I thought.

  “Okay, well, if you’re sure. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

  “Thanks, Marcy.” I tapped off the connection and wondered how it was that I’d gotten enough signal to get her call. One of those rare times when the moon and the fifth star in Orion lined up and I held my mouth just right, I guessed.

  God, but was I ever miserable! This was going to have a serious effect on my friendship with Marcy. I hated him all the more for that—he’d left our close, loving relationship scarred. I wasn’t even sure I could talk to Marcy about it. It would sour my side of our friendship and she would notice. I would have to avoid running into Brice.

  I finally rose from the bed and got dressed, then headed to the shoreline to take a long walk in the opposite direction from the public beaches. I walked through the surf, the alternating push and pull of the waves bathing me with their calming rhythm. I walked until the cottage was out of sight and then turned around and headed back. As I came closer to home, I heard a voice calling my name and looked up to see Marcy standing at the waterline, waving at me. I was trapped. I didn’t want to see her, but she’d already seen me. There was nothing to do but face it. Probably better to get it over with now, anyway, I thought.

  I waved back, if somewhat limply.

  “You must be feeling better,” she called, now only a few yards away. “But you still look a little dragged out. Couldn’t have been much of a bug. I brought you some soup. Come in and let’s have a bowl.”

  “Yes, a little better. Soup sounds good, actually.” It soothes the soul.

  Once we were seated at the small kitchen counter, bowls of steaming soup before us, the time had come for conversation.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she began. “Brice is back in town.” The mere sound of his name made my stomach flop. Marcy knew that years earlier, Brice and I hadn’t parted on good terms. “You know, Mina, he’s really not such a bad guy. I know he was a jerk to you that last time you saw him. He admitted it later on. I’ve never said anything because I thought you might be a little sensitive about it. Anyway, he’s a doctor now and just accepted a position at Bretherton General. He’ll be in the ER.”

  I struggled for something positive to say. “Your family must be very proud of him.”

  She swallowed her mouthful of soup, her brown eyes so reminiscent of the man who was now my cold enemy. Nodding, she said, “Mom and Dad are over the moon. You’d think Mom considers herself the queen of the town. All she does is brag about him. Dad, well, he’s a little quieter, but he drops little comments when they have people over. I’ve heard him.”

  I smiled and quickly buried it with another spoonful of soup. “I got my class list for this fall’s semester,” I said, changing the subject. “Looks like I’m going to have that little troublemaker, Lukey.”

  “Oh, I feel sorry for you. Too bad we can’t find a way to make his family move away. I’ve had run-ins with his mother and it’s easy to see where he gets it.”

  “I don’t know anything about his parents, but I have a feeling that will change this fall. I think they’re divorced, though.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’ve been told. Not much of a family life, the poor kid.” That was one of the things I loved about Marcy. She had such a kind heart. She rarely showed any temper, and when she did, it was gone in a flash. She was watching me now. “There’s nothing physically wrong with you, Mina. I’ve known you all my life and I can tell. Out with it—what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I’m fine,” I answered, as convincingly as I could.

  “Is it something with work?”

  “Oh, I’m probably just worn out. The heat came early this year and the beaches have been packed. I didn’t have a chance to acclimate.”

  “If you say so, but I can tell something’s wrong. If you don’t want to talk about it, just say so.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She gasped softly, and I knew she was hurt, but it had to be like pulling off a Band-aid. One fast jerk of pain and then it went away. A silence fell between us then, although we both tried to ignore it. We finished our soup and busied ourselves washing up the dishes.

  “Well, I’m going to go now,” Marcy told me, giving me a quick hug. “I can tell you’re having a down day and I won’t pry. If there’s anything I can do, you know where to reach me.”

  I nodded and walked her to the door, giving her a second hug before closing it behind her. It made me sad to watch her walk away. I knew things could never be the same between us, and worse yet, she would never know why.

  Chapter 8

  Brice

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Brice, it’s Todd.”

  “Hey, buddy. I’m just on my way to work. Did you get my message?”

  “Sure did. That’s why I’m calling. Can I take this as a sign that you are accepting my offer to partner in the construction company?”

  “I’ll make you a deal. I have a project in mind that involves building several cottage-sized buildings and that’s why I called you about that property. I’ll agree to partner with you on this project, and if it goes well, there will be more in the future. For now, however, I’m going to be our only client. Can you handle that?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No, not really.”

  “That’s what I thought. Okay, I’m in. Now as to your other question. I did the research and I think most of that area could be bought up if we had the financing. Do I take your interest to mean that you want to be your own financing?”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “Okay, let me tell you these addresses and get started.”

  “Good. Listen, give it a shot first without using an agent. No point in giving them money for something we already know we want.”

  “I guess there goes my realtor commission?”

  “When did you become a licensed realtor?”

  “A few weeks ago. I figured it would come in handy for referrals.”

  “You’re always looking for an angle,” I laughed. “Okay, buddy, consider yourself hired, just get the job done.”

  “You got it. Have fun sewing people up,” were his parting words just before he disconnected.

  It was heartening to hear that both Todd and I were on the same page. ER docs traditionally aren’t granted a lot of sleep, so I needed someone to do what I couldn’t get to. Todd had actually approached me at the perfect time. I was on my way to Bretherton General to clock in for my first shift. I was familiar with the hospital, having been a patient there as a child and visited others through the years. I’d also reported to the ER a week earlier to fill out my paperwork and get my bearings. It was unusual for them to put the new guy in charge, so I felt a little honored.

  “Welcome aboard,” George Martin came toward me through the ER sliding doors. “I have to tell you it’s a real treat to have someone with your abilities on staff here. We never have enough help.”

  “Glad to be here. So, can you fill me in?”

  “Sure, let’s start out with the doctor’s lounge. I’l
l show you where your locker is, and you can stow your things.”

  I nodded and followed him to the end of the hall, where we made a right and popped through a door labeled “Doctor’s Lounge.” It was a small room but there were never more than two doctors on duty at one time, so it sufficed. Against one wall was a narrow, but comfortable looking single bed. There was a small fridge in a corner with two stools, as well as a small bathroom off to one side. “All the comforts of home,” I joked, and George laughed.

  “Get used to it. You’ll be spending a lot of time here, in fact, you’ll see us more often than you’ll see your family.”

  “No family I need to worry about,” I said, and my heart gave a little thump of disappointment at my own words. I was carrying one hell of a lot of guilt for what I had done to Mina. I didn’t know how, but someday I would make it up to her. There were just so many people, really needy people, ahead of her in line. I knew it was unrealistic to think I would make a major difference in the world, but fortune had smiled on me and it seemed it imperative that I at least make an effort.

  Dr. Martin walked me through the cases behind the curtains of each bay. There was nothing of a life-threatening trauma going on, mostly a few stitches, some upset tummies from too much picnic food and the usual number of chronic complainers. Most ERs are the same around the country, with the exception of urban areas where gunshots and knife wounds prevail.

  I settled in within the first hour and between the two of us, we emptied the bays. “I was hoping this would happen,” George told me as we leaned against the admitting desk. “They told me you were good, but they left out the part about being fast. You know, it’s been a while since I’ve had a few hours off. If you think you can handle this, I’m going to head out and get some sleep and maybe have dinner with my family for a change.”