Good Time Doctor

by Penny Wylder

It’s fine, I tell myself. I’ll figure it all out tomorrow. In the meantime, I set my phone aside and pull the covers up around me. It’s not the same in this hotel bed without him here, either, without his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me against his warm, solid body. But I try to relax anyway, and eventually I manage to sink into a deep, unbroken sleep. Unfortunately, I don’t dream about Dr. Robinson after all. In fact, even though it’s unusual for me not to, I don’t dream about anything.

  The next day is taken up by preparations for the graduation. I show up at my mother’s an hour early, but she still scolds me for being late and puts me to work straightaway, preparing the house for tomorrow’s big party. Mom and Dad have the biggest place out of all the aunts in the area, so they’re the ones who will be hosting my whole extended family for this graduation party. Which is fun and all, but it also means a ton of extra cleaning work, and Mom is already a huge neat freak.

  In between the drudgery, though, are small glimmers of excitement. Basically, every time my phone buzzes with a new message from my mysterious doctor. I still don’t quite know what to think of him. I don’t know who Angel is, or what his whole deal was with the bathroom.

  But on the other hand, like Monica said, I’m entitled to a hookup. So maybe, if I can keep my instincts at bay and stop myself from leaping in too deep, or reading more meaning into this than there is… Maybe it’s fine if I don’t know everything about his life. It can just be a simple hookup, one that I don’t ask too many questions about.

  So I’m trying to convince myself. But every time our text exchange veers from sexts into more serious topics, I’m reminded all over again that he seems… well… great, still.

  Hope everything is going well in prep for the graduation, he texts me late on Saturday, after I collapse into bed, exhausted all over from the deep cleaning Mom made me give the whole house and backyard. It’s sweet of you to do so much for your cousin. You must really love your family.

  That’s one way of putting it, I write back, grimacing. But then I relent. I do love them, they just drive me insane sometimes. They’re always ordering me around. And while I don’t blame my cousin for that, and I’m happy to do things for her, my parents on the other hand…

  Are they pretty demanding? he asks in response.

  I sit up in bed and listen to the house around me. A few rooms over, I can hear the hushed voices as Mom and Dad argue, as usual, about one thing or another. Mom is a perfectionist, I finally reply. No matter how hard I try, I can’t do anything right.

  Like earlier in the day, when I dusted the entire living room from top to bottom. She’d come in and rooted around behind the bookcase, just to point out obscure, out of the way spots I hadn’t even realized were there to declare that I’d missed too many places and needed to go over the place again. Same with later that day in the backyard, when she made me set up, take down, re-set, and move the tables endlessly, criticizing me the whole time. As if it was my fault we were hosting this event. As if I’m the one who decided to hold it here, and like it’s my fault the backyard isn’t big enough to Mom’s satisfaction.

  As for my dad, he just sits there nodding along to everything Mom says, and never stands up for me—or himself, for that matter. It’s infuriating.

  That sounds tough. Want to talk about it? Jason replies, and then, before I can even respond, my phone starts to buzz again. He’s calling me.

  I pick up, licking my lips nervously before I whisper, “Hello?”

  “You sounded like you could use an actual call,” he replies, his voice low and deep in my ear.

  I swallow audibly. “Yeah, I guess. It’s nice to hear your voice.”

  “Yours too. I’ve missed you.”

  I laugh softly, eyes on my ceiling. “You do realize it’s only been a couple of days since we saw each other, right?”

  “I know. Which makes me think I might be crazy. But still. I did miss you.” There’s a hesitation on the other end of the phone. “Is this your way of saying you didn’t miss me at all?” he asks, but the way he asks it, I can tell he’s joking.

  I huff out a laugh under my breath. “Mm… I might have missed you a little bit. Only a little bit, of course. Don’t read too much into this.”

  “So you didn’t miss me enough to, say, let me take you out for breakfast tomorrow, to get your mind off things?”

  I press my lips together and shut my eyes. It’s tempting. Far more tempting than I care to admit. But… “I’ve got the graduation itself in the morning. And then the party starts afterward, in the afternoon, around one.”

  “Ah. A full day of family drama ahead of you, then.”

  “I wish you could be there,” I blurt, unable to help myself. Then I clamp my mouth shut, wishing I could take it back. How desperate do I sound? “I just mean… Talking to you relaxes me, is all. It’d be nice to… to have someone there who’s on my side. That’s all.”

  “Right,” he says, and I can still hear the grin in his voice. “Because you don’t miss me at all. Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” We both laugh, and there’s another pause on the line. “I can come, if you’d like me to,” he offers, and I go still with shock.

  “Really?”

  “Of course. I’d love to spend more time with you.”

  “Even at my cousin’s boring graduation party?” I snort.

  “Especially there. After all, it sounds like you’ve put in a lot of work, making this the party event of the season. How could I miss it?”

  I snort. But I roll over and smile at my reflection in the bedroom window across the room. “I’d like that,” I say, meaning it. “Again, if you think that’s not too crazy. Like… meeting my family, and all that.”

  “If you don’t mind subjecting them to me, I certainly don’t mind meeting them,” he answers easily.

  “What, subjecting them to you, the hot doctor I’m hooking up with?” I respond, rolling my eyes. “I’m pretty sure they’ll be fine with it.”

  “Well, they don’t know all the dirty particulars.”

  “True. If they knew what a filthy mind you had, they might think twice.” I smile.

  “Me? It’s your dirty mouth I was thinking about. All those messages you sent me about wanting to suck my cock. Or were you teasing me, Naomi?”

  “Teasing is your specialty, Doc,” I respond, and a pleasant thrill runs through me, my heart beating faster in anticipation.

  “Is this you asking me to tease you again? Because you know I love doing that. Touching your sexy body, running my hands and my mouth all over your smooth skin, kissing your neck and your chest, making you gasp as I make my way down to your little pert nipples…”

  I press my lips together, checking the doorway to be sure. But there’s no other sounds in the house. I’m the only one still awake, surely. Still, I lower my voice when I reply, even as I run my hands over my body, tracing the path he talks about. “I love feeling your hands all over me,” I whisper back. “Never knowing where you’ll touch me next, or how you know my body even better than I do.”

  “My favorite part, though, is watching your face whenever I touch you. Like when I’m licking and sucking on your breasts, gently biting at the skin there, toying with your nipples one after the other… I sneak glances at you the whole time to watch the way your eyes fall shut and your lips part with those faint, sexy little gasps you always make.”

  “I can’t take my eyes off you either. Whenever you kiss down my body, over my chest, my stomach, and lower… I love watching the heat in your gaze as you look up at me. I love never knowing what you’ll do next, but surrendering myself to you, giving you complete control over me.”

  “So it’s the control you like, is it?” He’s smiling now, I can hear it. “I do love ordering you around. Like right now, Naomi, if I told you to touch yourself…?”

  “Where, Sir?” I breathe.

  “Touch your hips first. With both hands, lightly.”

  I obey.

  “Now move your hands over
your hips and down. Trace them over that sexy, shaved mound of yours.” I do, my breath hitching a little. Already, my clit feels swollen and aching with want. I know, even before I touch myself any lower, that I’m already wet. “Now slide one hand between your thighs,” he tells me. “And run a finger over each of your perfect pink little lips.”

  I trace my lips one after the next.

  “Run your other hand back up your body,” he tells me. “And put your finger in your mouth.”

  I do it.

  “Now imagine that’s my cock in your mouth, dirty girl,” he says, and I moan a little into the phone. “Add another finger, go on, make it real.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I moan around my fingers, the words muffled. I go right ahead and add all of my fingers, sucking on them, and if I close my eyes, it’s easy to imagine it is him here, kneeling over me, thrusting his cock into my mouth.

  “Don’t stop fingering yourself, either,” he reminds me, and I realize my hand has stilled on my pussy. I start to move it again, sliding a finger in and out of myself. “Now go faster, Naomi. Think about me fucking your sexy little mouth as you get yourself off, you dirty girl.”

  I move both hands, thrusting one inside myself and the other into my mouth, breathing harder, letting out breathy little moans into the phone. From the other end of the phone, I can hear Jason breathing faster too, his breath hitching.

  “Can you hear how hot I am for you, dirty girl? Can you feel it, with my cock in your mouth?” He groans, and I gasp in response, pressing my fingers deeper into my pussy, climbing closer to that release I ache for. “God, I’m so fucking hard right now. I’m touching myself thinking of you, Naomi. The same way I’ve been doing all week. You know you do that to me, don’t you? You make me wild for you.”

  My heart races. I want to reply, but I’m also so close to the edge I can’t even formulate words right now. I think he knows that, because he just keeps talking, and every word makes me hotter.

  “I want to spend all day and night fucking you, Naomi. I never want to stop. I want to feel my cock drive into your tight little pussy again and again and…”

  With a faint cry, I come hard, the orgasm sending waves of pleasure throughout my entire body, all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes. My pussy tightens around my own fingers, as I keep stroking myself. I let my other hand fall away from my face, wet from my tongue, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. The phone slips, but I can still here Jason talking.

  “That’s it, good girl, good dirty little naughty girl,” he’s whispering.

  I draw my hand out and lean down to the speaker, to whisper to him now, sensing he’s close to his own climax. “Are you still thinking about me, Dr. Robinson?” I whisper. “Are you thinking about me gasping as I come around you, about how wet and hot you make me, about how my pussy feels wrapped around your thick shaft…?”

  I hear an answering groan on the other end of the line, and I know he’s there. I grin to myself. It’s good to know I have just as much of an effect on him as he does on me.

  When his breathing finally evens out, he finally comes back onto the line, a little huff of laughter in his voice. “Well. That was…”

  “Hot as hell,” I finish for him.

  “I was going to go with, the first time anyone’s ever made me lose control without even being in the same room as me,” he replies, still chuckling softly. “But sure. We’ll go with hot as hell. That works too.”

  I feel a thrill of pleasure deep in my belly at knowing what I just accomplished. Knowing the effect I have on him is as wild and direct as the one he has on me. “I’m just glad I didn’t accidentally wake up half the family,” I whisper, laughing.

  “Get some rest, Naomi,” he whispers to me, after a couple more minutes of us joking and flirting. “After all, you have a big day tomorrow. And I’ll see you there.”

  Another nervous flutter hits me, this time because I’m remembering what I just agreed to. I invited him to meet my entire family. Is this a good idea? Monica would definitely scold me for it. After all, I promised her I was moving slowly. Taking this easy.

  But I just tell him goodnight and promise to see him tomorrow. Then I hang up the phone and roll over onto my side, staring at the wall and wondering what I’m getting myself into.

  11

  “Naomi.”

  Uh oh. Mom’s using her danger voice. That can only mean one thing—I’ve somehow managed to piss her off, yet again. Even though the graduation ceremony was lovely, and my cousin adored her bouquet—and didn’t complain at all about the change in flowers—I knew Mom would surely notice the missing lilacs.

  Sure enough, she storms over to me now, eyes on the bouquet resting on the banquet table, next to all the gifts my cousin received, and all the food we’ve started to pick at. I was just making myself a plate of finger sandwiches and little cake rolls, because my aunt made them and her baked goods are the absolute best. But when I catch a glimpse of Mom’s expression, I set the plate back down and brace myself.

  “What are those?” Mom points to the flowers propped up in a vase beside the cake.

  “Flowers,” I reply, offering a bland smile.

  Her eyes narrow. Wrong answer. “I can see that, Naomi. I thought I placed an order with you for lilies and lilacs, specifically.”

  “You did.”

  “So why is that bouquet made up of lilies and some cheap bunches of… what even are those?”

  “Daisy spray and hydrangeas,” I say, keeping my voice low and even. A couple of the younger cousins glance our direction, but everyone knows better than to get in my mother’s way when she’s on a rampage.

  “I gave you one job,” Mom growls, voice thankfully low enough that it doesn’t interrupt the happenings on the far side of the room, where distant relatives and friends are lining up to hug my cousin and take pictures with her. “One job that is your actual job. Don’t you work in a florist shop for a living? Is this how you treat all of your customers, or are we special in that we get the short straw every time?”

  “You’ve never ordered from my shop before, Mom,” I whisper sharply. “And, frankly, I had a customer come in who needed the lilacs more.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Mom throws her arms in the air. That must be her signal, because Dad joins her then, resting a hand on her shoulder.

  “What’s wrong, honey?”

  “Did you see the flowers Naomi brought?”

  “I thought they were lovely,” Dad starts, until Mom shoots him a sideways glare, and then he stops short in his tracks. “I mean, for, er, for white flowers….”

  “They’re the wrong kind. I ordered these from her weeks ago. But she gave our bouquet to someone else, is that right, Naomi?”

  Now it’s Dad’s turn to frown. “Naomi, you know how much work your mother put into planning this party. How could you do something like this to her?”

  “Thank you,” Mom nods at him, vindicated.

  “Something like this? It’s one bouquet!” I protest. “Anna doesn’t even mind; she loved the flowers. She took a bunch of selfies with them already.”

  “That’s not the point,” Mom snaps.

  “It’s a show of care, when you do what we ask you to,” Dad adds. “When you don’t, and when you let us down, it shows us that you don’t really care.”

  “Or maybe,” interrupts a low, familiar voice at my shoulder. “It’s a sign that she cares a little too much.”

  I whirl, jaw open, to find Jason beside me, smiling down at me. When did he get here? I texted him the address, but I didn’t expect him to walk straight into our backyard without a warning. And for him to walk in on this, in the middle of my parents lecturing me like I’m some delinquent teenager… It’s beyond embarrassing. My face burns. But he only turns to my father and offers a hand to shake, seemingly unperturbed.

  “My apologies for interrupting,” he says, still with that easygoing smile. “I’m Dr. Robinson. And I’m afraid the flower mix-up here happene
d on my account,” he lies smoothly. “I needed those lilacs for a patient of mine. Naomi was all too happy to provide them.”

  “Oh, well… Doctor… Robinson, was it?” Mom seems flustered, even as Dad shakes his hand, and Jason turns to her next. When it’s her turn to shake hands, Mom practically starts giggling. “Well, in that case, I suppose we can understand her giving up the flowers, can’t we, John?”

  “Certainly.” Dad smiles. “How did you say you and my daughter know one another?”

  “We’re friends,” I interrupt, eyes narrowed, daring them to ask anything else.

  “I see.” Mom’s smile remains fixed, though it widens every time she steals a glance in Jason’s direction. “Well, I must say, I’m glad to see my daughter spending time with men of a higher caliber than she has before.” With that final dig about my failed marriage behind her, Mom hooks her arm through my father’s and leads him away.

  The second they’re out of earshot, I slump, even as Jason tugs me into a one-armed hug and kisses the top of my head. “God, that was humiliating,” I mumble. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “Families.” Jason shakes his head a little, sympathetic. “Believe me, I can sympathize.”

  “Thanks anyway for saving me.”

  He tucks a finger under my chin and tilts my face up toward his. “Anytime, my damsel in distress.” He winks, and I can’t help it. Even though I know I should be playing it cool in front of, well, my entire family, I let him lean down and kiss me, just a quick, gentle kiss on the mouth. But it sears right through me, leaves my whole body feeling hot and wanting more. “I couldn’t fall asleep after we talked last night,” he murmurs, low and close to my ear. “All I wanted was to see you again. To be with you, feel you in my arms…”

  I slide my arms around his waist and lean my head against his shoulder for a second, closing my eyes to savor the sensation of his warm, strong arms around me. “Believe me, I know the feeling,” I whisper. Then I force myself to draw back. “Come on,” I say, catching his hand and tugging him into motion. “Let’s make the rounds.”