by Lake, C. J.
So he gave her more--stroking her harder while he kissed and sucked her neck. Pretty soon, his dick was so hard it ached. The air in the room felt thick and hot; he was sweltering, already starting to sweat. He needed to fuck her, and not just once but over and over. Eventually he dragged his mouth up to her ear and spoke to her in a low whisper. “You’re so wet, it’s making me insane…”
As she tunneled her fingers into his hair, she replied shakily, “You make me this wet.”
“Do you like it like this?” he murmured into her ear.
“Yes…”
“How about this?” He drove his hand harder.
She gasped. Then assured him, “Yes…”
Tracing the rim of her ear with his tongue, he spoke in that same low, husky voice. “What about feeling my cock right there?”
“God, yes…” Andy pleaded, as if the mere thought set her on fire.
Tragan felt like he’d explode. She wanted this as much as he did. Hot sex--and right now.
In fact, they both seemed to burst with impatience at the same moment, and began tearing at what remained of each other’s clothes. Frantically, Andy reached over to wrestle Tragan’s jeans and boxer-briefs out of her way, while he savagely stripped off her panties and pajama pants and threw them over his shoulder.
“Do you have any condoms?” she asked once they were entangled again and completely naked.
It took Tragan a second to break his lust-haze and focus on her question. “Yeah,” he replied after an instant. “In my room. Hang on.” Climbing off her, he left Andy’s room, trying to play it somewhat cool and not sprint to his bedroom.
It was unreal how rapidly things had happened today. But taking it slow didn’t seem possible once they’d started up in the kitchen and an instantaneous, smoldering heat had taken over, blazing through the room like a wild fire.
When Tragan had mentioned meeting another girl, he knew it was basically an idle threat, but he had to get Andy’s reaction. Because when she’d wiped frosting from his mouth, she stroked her thumb over his lower lip. And not just once, either. She’d lingered there. The moment felt crackling and sexy and he was almost sure she felt it, too--but he had to know. Honestly, if Andy’s face hadn’t shown such obvious jealousy about the idea of him meeting another girl, Tragan might not have had the courage to make a move this morning.
Now he returned with a couple condoms and found her exactly as he’d left her. Lying naked on the bed, waiting for him. Her knees were drawn up casually, her head turned toward the door, yet now she was looking at him with an almost shy smile. Her honey blond hair was fanned out on the comforter and her eyes still were drowsy with lust. Tragan’s breath caught in his throat the second he saw her. Standing in the doorway, he almost trembled. She was literally the most beautiful girl in the world, the sexiest, most perfect woman he could imagine.
Without a word, he walked over and knelt down on the bed, between her legs. Once he tossed the condoms on the comforter, he ran his hands over her thighs, gently parting them as he dipped his head down. “Oh--you don’t have to do that,” Andy told him quickly before he’d even gotten started.
“I want to,” Tragan murmured, sinking his head lower and spreading her legs farther apart. “Please let me…” he started to say, but let his voice trail off as his tongue licked inside her. She let out a thready kind of sigh and tentatively, rested her hands on his head. Tragan was relieved that she didn’t protest any further; he’d been fantasizing about making her come since the night they met.
He ran his tongue on her, sliding it in and out, then used his fingers as he licked her clit. Within minutes, Andy was grabbing at his hair and surrendering to what he was doing. As she rolled her hips, pushing against his mouth, she let out choppy little breaths; he could tell she was getting close. Finally he stopped licking her clit--and started sucking it--gently at first then with more pressure, more suction. Soon she was pulling his hair, as her moans became louder and more urgent. Then her back arched off the bed and she cried out, as her orgasm overtook her. Her climax was so strong that Tragan could feel her muscles spasming against his mouth. “Christ, Andy...” he muttered thickly. “I can’t take it anymore.” With his cock throbbing, stiff to the point of torture now, he rose up on his knees, reached for one of the condoms and tore at it impatiently.
As he entered her, they both groaned at the exquisite pleasure--especially when he slid deeper, pushed as deep as he could go. Wrapping her legs around him, Andy whispered, “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t, baby, I won’t,” he promised in a strained voice, as he thrust into her again and again. Eagerly, she rocked her hips, taking him deep, and the pleasure was almost too much. She felt so incredible, so right, like she was made for him only. Tragan had to ignore his most selfish male instincts, which urged him to race to the finish. He knew he couldn’t do that. Especially since this first time with Andy was too special.
So he rolled them both over, landing on his back and letting her set the pace.
Andy smiled down at him a little coyly, which should have clashed with how animalistic everything had been up till then, but nothing felt wrong because it was Andy. She started rocking against him, rubbing his cock against her as she sank down, and finally settled against his chest. Then she seemed a little unsure, so Tragan gripped her butt and helped guide her… until they found a good rhythm and were writhing together--shaking the bed, panting, clinging to each other--until Tragan rasped, “I can’t--I’m about to come,” and flipped them over again.
“Yes, do it…” Andy begged breathlessly, digging her nails into his back.
With a harsh grunt, he started pounding faster. Then pushed himself up on his hands, as his hips thumped frantically against hers and sweat trickled down his temple. And then he came--his whole body tightening up as he let out a deep, guttural sound of relief, while waves of ecstasy coursed through his body.
With an exhausted sigh, he dropped down on top of her. Both were breathing hard for several moments after. Neither said a word.
Then finally Andy wriggled her body underneath his. “You’re kind of heavy,” she said, almost apologetically like she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
Tragan rolled off her right away and gave a short, enervated laugh as he looked up at the ceiling. “Sorry.” Then he glanced over, smiled at her. He reached out to brush some hair away from her face. She suddenly began to shiver. “Here, you’re cold,” he said, “c’mere.” Immediately he gathered her closer, then peeled the comforter away from the bed to drape it over her. Rubbing her shoulders through the comforter, he said, “Better?”
Andy nodded, still shivering a little. He almost smiled, just because he knew Andy was always cold--because he knew a lot of things about Andy.
She stayed quiet for a few more minutes, ducking her head against his shoulder, which half-shielded her face. She seemed a bit self-conscious all of a sudden. Finally she said, “Well that was…intense.”
“Yeah,” Tragan agreed with another sigh. There was obviously no denying that. “But intense is good…right?” After a quiet moment, Andy responded with a soft “yes” and let her eyes drift shut.
Chapter Twenty-three
By the time Brad finished listening to his voicemails, he was in a decidedly irritated mood. Andy had made it clear that she was dropping out of Dr. Lassiter’s drug study, which, yes, was her right--but it was also extremely unhelpful. The reason Brad had even thought of her for the study was because he’d heard Dr. Lassiter worrying over the fact that he needed at least twenty-five participants for the board to green-light the project, and he was short two. That random eavesdropping moment a few months back had been fortuitous for Brad, because he’d been trying to find a way to get in Dr. Lassiter’s good graces for a while now. Rumors were that he and Dr. Wellis--two of the hospitals leading surgeons--were planning to break off from St. Catherine’s to start their own practice. Brad was hungry to jump on that train; working directly with Lassiter and Wellis w
ould mean more than just access to their wealth of patients, but it would also be a short cut to the kind of medical prestige it would normally take years to acquire.
As a second-year resident, Brad knew he needed more credibility and experience to even be considered for a position with them. But of course, a direct, personal rapport with Lassiter or Wellis would certainly expedite things. A mutual respect--an appreciation. Connections were what made careers, everyone knew that. And doing Dr. Lassiter a favor, such as bringing in a much-needed person to participate in his CFS study, seemed like a great start to a good rapport.
Only now Andy was quitting mid-way, and so the favor wasn’t going to earn Brad much thanks, after all. With a sigh, Brad slipped his phone back in his pocket, figuring he’d deal with Andy later. They were supposed to get together after her nephew’s birthday party, but Brad hadn’t planned anything in particular. Now he would, though. When he saw her later, he’d have to step it up and put on his boyfriend A-game.
The truth was, he and Andy had been drifting apart for a while now. He hadn’t wanted to dwell on it--he was way too busy for that--and the timing hadn’t been right to break up with her. He’d talk to her tonight. Obviously he couldn’t force her to continue with the drug study, but he’d do his best to convince her to keep going with it. Yes, Brad did have his own motivations, but at the same time, he wasn’t trying to hurt Andy. He cared about her and there was the chance that this new CFS drug could also help with Bronsteg Disorder.
Suddenly he felt his phone buzz. Maybe it was Andy again, he thought hopefully. “Christ,” Brad muttered under his breath, as he read the screen. This day just kept getting more annoying. It was Sophia, the ER nurse he’d been hooking up with for the past few months, texting him about plans later. It was a trap, he knew it. She already knew he had plans with Andy, so obviously she was trying to bait him into an argument--the same argument.
Are you coming over later?
No, I can’t. I’m sorry.
Her again. When are you finally going to break up with her?
I’ve told you. If I break up with Andy now, she’ll quit the study out of spite. As a doctor, I can’t let her do that. Please try to understand.
I’m tired of waiting…
Please, Sophia. I need you right now.
He rolled his eyes as he typed that last part. Sophia was hot, but she was suddenly clingy as hell, which was a major turnoff. He had no intention of getting serious with her--but then, that had been the understanding from the beginning. When they’d started their fling that first time in the on-call room, Sophia had been aggressive and seductive. Only over the past couple months had she morphed into one of these I-pretended-I-wanted-a-no-strings-physical-thing-but-really-I’m-trying-to-own-you girls.
He wouldn’t have minded giving her the brush-off, if it weren’t for the timing. Since he wasn’t ready to break up with Andy yet, Sophia had to be managed. Otherwise, out of jealousy, she might go off the deep end and contact Andy, blabbing everything like a clichéd “woman scorned.” Obviously, Brad couldn’t have that. Not only did he not want to hurt Andy, per se, but career-wise, Sophia going ballistic would only hurt him. Andy would definitely drop Lassiter’s study in that case, and Brad would lose all pull there. Thus, he had to tread carefully.
Her next text appeared: Ok,I’ll be patient.
Thank you beautiful, he typed back with another eye-roll.
Apparently that earned him a smiley face. Brad sighed and slipped his phone back in his pocket. Not to be arrogant, but it boggled his mind sometimes that a nurse thought she could outsmart him. In any case, he’d worry about Sophia another time. Now he had a surgery to assist on, and later he’d talk to Andy.
~
It felt like they’d barely even relaxed when Andy bolted upright. Rubbing her forehead, she said, “Oh God, the party! I forgot--I have to finish frosting the cupcakes.” She shirked off the comforter and shimmied off the bed, not looking at Tragan as she continued, “Then I need to shower and get changed.” Hastily, she snatched a thin white shirt from her closet and slipped it on. Sitting up slowly, Tragan watched her, confused. He wasn’t sure what the point was of the shirt. It barely reached her ass, and he’d already seen her naked anyway. “Okay, what else?” she said awkwardly, looking around.
He raised his eyebrows, questioning--but that was pointless, because she seemed to be avoiding eye contact. “What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously.
“Nothing,” she yelped. “I just have so much to do.” She was still fluttering around, picking clothes up off the floor. With her pjs and panties bundled in one hand, she seemed frantic as she tossed Tragan his jeans. Either she was still cold, and racing around was warming her up, or this was a modesty thing he wasn’t understanding?
“Okay…well, I really have to hurry before my mom comes,” she said suddenly.
“Andy, calm down,” Tragan said, climbing out of bed. “You’re taking my car, remember?”
“Oh!” Again she brought her hand to her forehead. “That’s right! I forgot.” While he slipped on his boxer-briefs, she snapped her fingers. “But I still need to call her and tell her not to come. And then get ready.” She took a breath, adding, “Plus the cupcakes!”
“Andy, why are you so nervous?”
She swallowed, seeming uncomfortable. “I’m not--I’m sorry--um, I--this was nice,” she babbled on, inching toward her door. “I’m, uh, glad we tried this.”
“Damn,” Tragan remarked with a brief, mostly humorless laugh. “That’s a new one for me.”
“I just--come on, you know what I mean,” she said, braving a fleeting glance into his eyes--finally. “Well, I’ll see you later. I’m going to shower and you’re already late anyway. Thanks again for your car--I mean, if I can still use it,” she amended quickly. Which sort of pissed him off.
“Of course you can,” Tragan said, his voice edged with annoyance.
“All right. Thanks!”
The next thing he knew, she was gone. He heard her bathroom door close and water start to run.
What the hell? Tragan thought on the way to his own room to get a shirt. And guys got flak for their morning-after behavior? Andy went from hot to skittish in no time at all. She was almost acting like…
Like she regretted what just happened. But that couldn’t be right. Could it?
Maybe he should have pressed harder, but he didn’t really know how to start a big heart-to-heart with her when she seemed halfway out the bedroom door already. He supposed he’d just chalk it up to morning-after weirdness. Considering they’d just taken their friendship from PG to X, maybe she needed a chance to adjust.
Either way, there was no way this would be a one-time thing. And it sure as hell was not a mistake.
Chapter Twenty-four
The rest of the day dragged on, hauling Pellican’s shit from one apartment to another--and funny, how did Tragan and Matt always end up doing the heavy lifting? After Pellican threw a pissy little fit because Tragan didn’t bring his car, he ended up borrowing his neighbor’s Subaru. Tragan had to drive it, though, since no one else knew how to drive a stick-shift. Pellican spent half the day reminding him to be extra careful, because his neighbor was “the type to sue.” All in all, a tedious, aggravating day--made much more so by the fact that Tragan still hadn’t heard from Andy.
He’d called her that afternoon, but she hadn’t answered her phone. And she hadn’t replied to his texts. He sent her the first one from the T, on his way to Pellican’s. It read:Sorry we didn’t get to talk about what happened, but it was AMAZING. I really care about u.
No response.
A few hours later, he’d texted her again, asking simply:How’s the party?
Nothing.
Now Tragan walked across Grove Street, heading toward his building, and wondered how he still could not have heard a word from her. Jesus, nothing all day? Really? Was she honestly avoiding him after what happened? It might have broken his heart if it didn’t piss him off so muc
h instead.
On the other hand…he couldn’t bring himself to believe it. He and Andy had something. There was no way he’d imagined their smoking hot chemistry in bed, or the way it always felt when they were together. So why had she gone dark like that?
The rest of the guys had gone out after the move, but Tragan passed. Told them he was too tired, but obviously he wanted to see Andy and clear the air. Last he’d heard, Bardo convinced them to hit The Bubble Bar, because it was usually flooded with girls.
As he climbed the stairs to his apartment, he thought again about that morning--and about what Andy would say to him tonight. He would definitely kiss her if she didn’t kiss him first. He turned the key and shoved the door open, hoping she was home by now, but instead finding the most unwelcome sight he could imagine.
“Brad,” Tragan blurted, recognizing the guy’s mannequin profile immediately--as he sat on his couch, watching his TV.
“Hey,” Brad said, sparing him a casual glance over his shoulder. “I’m just waiting for Andy. She must be running late.”
Still glaring at him, Tragan processed the words. So had Brad not talked to her, either? Obviously if he had, he would know if she was running late or not.
“Is she expecting you?” Tragan asked, hoping like hell he’d say no, that this was a surprise, that she had no idea he was coming tonight.
“Yes, we have plans.”
Fuck.
“Uh…I didn’t realize you had a key,” Tragan stated, keeping his anger in check. Technically this guy hadn’t done anything wrong, so there was no reason for Tragan to want to kick his ass. And yet he did.
Brad clicked the remote to turn off the TV, as he came to his feet and nodded. “Yes, Andy gave me a key, in case of an emergency. I hope you don’t mind.”