“Your girlfriend, the one you’re supposed to be loyal to, Rich,” I yelled so loud, I felt like passing out.
He just showed me that stupid lost-puppy-dog look of his, the one he displayed when he was waiting for me to get over it and let the moment of contention pass so we could go back to business as usual. It always worked. I would shake my head and tell him I had to go to the hospital or something, telling myself that we were over. Then he would call me days later and relay a message from Caroline regarding the next family get-together or remind me that his sister, Blanche, was expecting us at her birthday party or something. He knew what his value to me was and used his family shamelessly to keep me. And now Court gets Caroline, Ray, and Blanche as well as Rich’s multitude of fun and interesting cousins, uncles, and aunts.
I forced myself to stop missing Rich’s family. The way I worked and my taste in untrustworthy men, made me fear that I would never have a family of my own. But I was too hungry to feel sorry for myself. I slipped into my oversized nightshirt then put on one of the many pairs of house slippers lined up under white robes hanging on a rack in the bathroom and sauntered into the living room.
I swiped the room service menu off the end table and plopped down on the comfy sectional sofa. “It was just…” I muttered to myself while looking off, focusing on nothing at all.
I never thought I’d be so interested in sex again after Rich. The cheating made me feel as if I wasn’t sexy enough. Also, he had the worst roving eyes, which I always tried to ignore. Again, I had to shake memories of my complex relationship with my ex-boyfriend out of my head. Why am I thinking about him anyway?
“My intuition is warning me,” I whispered.
There was something dubious about Sparrow. He had secrets—lots of them. Before we started making out, it seemed as if he’d confirmed that he owned the penthouse. I wasn’t sure. I could hardly remember what we said to each other in those moments.
“No,” I said, shaking my head vehemently. I would enjoy the day, but the next evening, when my shift ended, I would stay at a hotel if my apartment wasn’t ready.
Feeling good about my decision, I picked up the phone and ordered a Cobb salad, a shrimp cocktail, and a bottle of sparkling water. While waiting, I checked my email. Usually on my days off, I would have a bunch of messages from other residents about patients. Since I hadn’t had a handoff for two days, I only had about ten messages.
Suddenly, my Messenger started ringing, and when I saw who was calling me, I felt my face light up like the Milky Way.
“Zara?” I answered excitedly.
“Hey, Kit Kat,” she said. “Sorry for leaving so abruptly. I needed to get the hell out of there.”
I folded my legs and got a little more comfortable with my laptop. “Then you’re not coming back?”
“Not to work. I have some loose ends to tie up in New Orleans, but then I’m moving.”
My head jutted forward. “Moving?” I shook my head continuously, hardly believing what I was hearing. “That’s it? You’re no longer a surgeon?”
She fell silent for a moment. “Well, no, Pen. It’s not for me. I don’t want to be stuck in a hospital for the rest of my life, and please don’t say that things will change once we’re attendings. I don’t want to be an attending. I don’t want to slice anyone’s head open and dig out clots and cancer. I’m done. Got it, Pen? Done.”
She was quite emotional by the end of her declaration. I couldn’t say that I didn’t know how she felt, because I did, only I saw things differently. Yes, I hated that I had to clear a blood clot or remove a tumor from someone’s brain. I never took pleasure in having to do it, because I never forgot I was cutting on a sick person who never fathomed in a million years they’d be in that position. Empathy made me love what I did. Zara and I came from two different worlds. Her parents were traditional but rich. My mom had abandoned me emotionally even before Aunt Christine paid for me to go to boarding school at thirteen, and I’d never known my dad. I’d always felt Zara was way more entitled than I was and definitely spoiled. Who drops out of residency less than two months before finishing? Someone who didn’t know what it meant not to have a solid cushion to fall back on, that was who.
“Okay,” I said with a sigh. “Quitting is not the end of the world. It’s the beginning of a new one, I guess.”
“Yeah,” she sang optimistically. “I knew you’d understand. You’re the real deal, Pen. You’re right where you’re supposed to be. Now…” I heard her clap once. “The hot new doctor. Have you banged him yet?”
My gaze rolled around the large room with its heavy draperies and expensive furnishings. “What do you think?” I sounded pessimistic on purpose.
“My goodness, Pen, do you need a matchmaker? I can find you one.”
“Ha,” I scoffed. “Me? What about you? I haven’t seen any studs coming in and out of your apartment either.”
“That’s because he lives in DC,” she whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” I whispered.
“Because he’s in the bathroom.”
I momentarily froze. “You’re not having an affair, are you?”
“Hell no. I’m a girl’s girl. You know that.”
I liked the firmness in her voice. I had known it. “Then why all the secrecy?”
“Because this is the first time we had sex. It was so… oh my God, Pen, I’m in love. He doesn’t know it, but I’m in love.”
“Well, Zara—”
“Got to go. See you one day soon.”
“But I wanted—”
The call ended.
I thought she needed to hear that sex wasn’t love, and that she should probably make sure her love wasn’t born of oxytocin. Then I remembered that I might need to take my own advice at some point.
I yawned just as a buzz filled the air.
“Room service!” a woman’s voice said, projecting through a speaker system.
I leapt to my feet and trotted over to answer the door. A pretty girl with long braids rolled in the food. When I told her I wanted to get my purse so that I could tip her, she raised a hand to stop me.
She remained smiling. “No tips from this room. It’s all taken care of.”
Then she wished me a good evening and walked out of the penthouse.
None of it would last. Good things never lasted. I would more than likely have sex with Dr. Hottie. We would fuck each other’s brains out—that was for sure. Then we would talk and set the boundaries. He would have me out of his system, which meant we could perform surgeries together when the need arose. Perhaps we could be cordial with each other in social settings. We could definitely say good morning and good night. But we would never be able to be friends. He was too Jekyll and Hyde, good-cop-bad-cop, and angel-devil for that. Such a paradox, the man was.
I hummed as I took another bite of my salad. Each swallow made me increasingly tired. I wanted to stay up and wait for Dr. Hottie to come home, but earlier, I’d read the board and saw that he had four procedures scheduled. That meant he would be home late, and I didn’t have the stamina to stay awake that long, especially after that bath.
Finally, I turned off my computer and carried it into the bedroom. First, I closed the curtains, then I set my computer on the dresser. I crawled into bed, yawned again, and not long after, fell asleep.
“Blue Butterfly” by Righteous Pearl blared through my phone. I sat up straight quickly, like a bolt of electricity had shot through me. After letting the song play while I scrubbed my face with my hands, I turned it off.
“My goodness,” I muttered.
No daylight shone through the cracks in the curtains, and my bedroom door was closed. I hadn’t done that. Did Sparrow return home at some point during the night without waking me up?
I flung my legs over the side of the bed and let my feet drop to the floor. The fuzziness cleared out of my head a bit more, and I forced myself to stand. That was one comfortable bed, and I was sure I had slept in it for the last time.
My body yearned for its comfort, and because of it, it was taking me longer than usual to get into the mindset of going to work.
Is he here?
A surge of energy made me hop to my feet. Then I walked through the condo, poking my head in and out of rooms, seeing no sign of Sparrow. However, in the kitchen, another continental breakfast was set up, and that time, one long-stemmed red rose in a shimmering crystal vase sat next to the fruit platter.
Chapter Nine
Penina Ross
I stared at the rose with my mouth twisted thoughtfully before plucking it out of the vase. Something felt odd about the bouquets of flowers and the more intimate red rose. If Sparrow wanted to fuck, he didn’t have to go through the hassle of such an elaborate seduction. Has he looked in the mirror lately? All he had to do was buy me a drink, sparkling water, of course, and bourbon wings then kiss my neck like he did the other day. There was something about a man who would do so much to land a girl in bed. I suspected he was a chaser. That meant that once I was caught, he would be done with me. I had to remember that as well as consider that he was an attending.
I had no time to give it more thought. I rushed back to the bedroom, stuffed the rose into my bag, planning to confront him with it, then got dressed. After my shift ended, I planned to return to Dr. Sparrow’s penthouse—I knew for certain that it belonged to him—and collect my things. Then that would be it. No more kissing, dry humping, or neck nibbling.
My heart fluttered, and my pussy wept as I thought about his lips on my skin.
“No, Pen,” I whispered, darting out of the bedroom. “It’s only physical.” I had to put an end to whatever we were doing before we got too emotionally involved with each other. I ran the risk of falling hard and fast for Dr. Sparrow. Something about him felt familiar.
My first stop was back in the kitchen, where I wrapped a warm croissant filled with blueberry sauce and cream cheese in a napkin. I also took some sliced oranges and grapefruit. A silver urn was beside to-go cups, and I filled one of the cups with coffee, added cream, and rushed to the private elevator. On the way down, I reminded myself once again to say no to any sexual contact with the sexy doctor, even if my body said yes.
I felt a sense of relief. Sparrow was in surgery, so I didn’t have to see him for a while. That rose was burning a hole in my bag, though, and we had to talk about it. At least I had more time to form my words.
My morning routine hadn’t changed. I signed in then finished drinking my coffee, which was very good, and read prep notes and patient records from the previous night’s handoffs along with new cases. Angela and Jude wanted to know for certain if Zara had quit. Even though I knew the answer, I wasn’t one to impart information someone had shared with me without their permission. Then the conversation quickly turned to Sparrow.
“He’s so damn good-looking,” Angela whispered, trying not to be heard by anyone not involved in our conversation.
“I heard the guy was gay,” Jude said. “So don’t get your hopes up.”
My brow furrowed as I looked up from the computer screen at him. “Who told you that?”
“It’s well-known.” Jude dropped off his stool. “The guy’s gay, so don’t embarrass yourselves by coming on to him.”
I could tell Jude wanted me to let his claim about Sparrow stand, but no way was I going to do that. I spun my chair around to watch him dig through his locker. “I hadn’t heard that. So who told you?”
He smirked. “Why? Are you planning on joining the soup line of starving alley cats?”
“Ouch,” I said, shrugging a shoulder. “Saint Jude sounds jealous.”
“Ha,” he said, not looking away from his locker. “Whatever. All of you girls are going crazy over a guy.”
I grinned slyly. “Oh, so you are jealous?”
He slammed his locker shut. “Jealous? What do I have to be jealous about?”
Jude used being a doctor as sexual capital. He often left with a new woman after his shift. On many occasions, a girl who appeared to be in her early twenties ate lunch in the cafeteria with him. He kept a steady trail of females, each hoping he would choose them to be the surgeon’s wife.
Zara used to swear Jude was a virgin. I never asked her to prove it because I didn’t care. He wasn’t my type. He was too overworked—he wore too much hair gel and too much cologne, he plucked his eyebrows, and I could have sworn he wore eyeliner. But the worst part about him was that he avoided the OR as much as possible.
“Do you really want us to answer that question?” Angela asked, laughing as she finished tying the shoes she wore for the second half of her shift. She said changing shoes kept her feet healthy.
“Dr. Ross, somebody wants to see you,” someone called.
We whipped our heads toward the guy standing in the doorway. I tried to place his face, but I’d never seen him before.
I pressed my hand on my chest. “Me?”
“Are you Dr. Penina Ross?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Then yeah. You.”
I sat up straight, knowing whoever was looking for me could’ve been anybody, but I hoped it wasn’t Dr. Sparrow—or maybe I hoped it was.
The guy was a first-year surgical resident and said his name was Oscar. Someone in the ortho program greeted him, and I thought perhaps I’d been assigned to one of their patients who needed a neuro consult. I believed that even more when I walked over the bridge that led to the attendings’ offices.
I knocked on the office door of Dr. Rocco Best, who was an ortho attending.
“Come in,” he called, his voice muffled by the door.
I cautiously opened the door and stepped into his office. My eyes grew wide. Instead of the doctor, my ex was sitting on the small sofa.
“Rich?” I asked, making sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me.
Simpering, he stood slowly, rubbing his palms on his jeans. “Hey, Pen.”
“Is everything okay?” After all, he was a quarterback and once had taken such a big hit that the pain in his knee was over a seven for an entire month.
“I just wanted to see you,” he said.
I shook my head rapidly. “Why?”
He took a deep breath. “I miss you.”
I leaned away from him, frowning. “Miss me how?” He was with Court, and six days ago, they’d stood side by side in a strong show of new-couple bliss.
“When I saw you at Bellies, I just… I miss you.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. My ex, the consummate cheater, wanted me to be the woman he cheated on his current girlfriend with. When I opened my eyes again, I was sure he felt the fire of my anger burning him alive.
“Why don’t you just stay single, Rich? That way you can fuck whoever you want without screwing with a poor girl’s heart.”
He jerked his head back. “Your heart? You broke my heart.”
I was even more confused. I hadn’t said my heart. “No, my heart is fine. I’m over you.”
“Well, I’m not over you.”
Shit, he’s approaching.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Pen. I miss your lips and your body,” he said.
I took steps backward, pinning my backside to the door. He narrowly missed taking me in his arms. I shot both hands in front of me, signaling for him to come no closer.
“Rich. Stop.”
“I loved you. You were never around, never fucking available. And you’re the one that stopped having sex with me.”
My mouth fell open. There was no way I was going to let Rich put the blame of our deficient sexual relationship on me. “That’s because your dick was itching, and I wasn’t the cause of it.”
“What was I supposed to do?” he asked as if he hadn’t heard me. “I had needs. I’d rather have met them with you, though.”
A cynical laugh escaped me. “Are you kidding me?”
“That mole on your waist.” He sipped air sharply between his teeth. “Shit. I want to kiss it.”
My neck jutted forward. My being t
rapped in a doctor’s office with him felt so wrong, but I knew Rich well enough to know he wouldn’t cross the line with me, so I wasn’t in danger.
I clapped loudly to wake him out of his lustful haze. He was staring at my body as if he could see through my scrubs.
“Rich! Wake up!”
He blinked hard, and his gaze landed on my face.
“We broke up. We’re over. You cheated on me. And yes, I wasn’t there for you. We don’t work. But I’m sure there are enough sexy groupies in the world ready to fuck you and even some with a mole on their waist.”
It happened so fast. I was in his embrace, being carried across the floor, then my back hit the sofa. Rich’s tongue invaded my mouth when my jaw dropped in surprise. His dick grinded against the hood of my pussy, and his hand pushed its way toward my clit.
“Just one more time, baby,” he whispered against my mouth. “Please.”
My right knee was free, and if I angled it to the left, my kneecap could’ve collided with his hard dick, but instead, I turned my face away from his. “Rich? Are you forcing yourself on me?” I made sure my tone was calm but firm.
He stopped trying to kiss me and leaned his head back. “What?”
“I’m under you, and I never gave you permission to bring me here,” I said, keeping a pragmatic tone. That was the best way to help him reason himself out of a heightened state of desire.
“Shit.” He scrambled off of me. “No, I wasn’t forcing myself on you. No.”
I rose to my feet quickly, moved to the door, and opened it. “Goodbye, Rich.” I hurried into the solace of the hallway.
“Pen?” he called after me.
I stopped in my tracks but not in response to Rich. My eyes met Dr. Sparrow’s curious gaze.
Then Rich stepped out of the office behind me. Sparrow looked at him then downward, checking out Rich’s boner. I was not going to show the sexy doctor how mortified I was that he had seen us that way. I pulled my shoulders back, ready to walk right past him. However, Sparrow turned away from me first as he put his key in the lock and disappeared into his office.
Seduction (The Secret Billionaire Asher Christmas Duet Book 1) Page 6