Doctor's Delight (4 page)

“Yep,” Tim
said. “We need a drink.”

“Or two.”

“Why bother
with that? Let’s get them rolling in.”

Hearing a
sombre note in his friend’s voice, Rick glanced at him. “You all
right? Is something wrong?”

“Not at all.
Drive on, James, Sir wants his drinks and a nice time with a
like-minded friend.”

“Mummy
issues?”

“When is it
not?” Tim shook his head. “Let’s not talk about it.”

“Fair
enough.”

They spoke
about the pros and cons of human patients versus animal patients
while driving the distance through the traffic, and then Rick
pulled into the motel car park. From there they walked across the
road to the bar on the other side, claimed a couple of bar stools
and settled down to enjoy themselves.

It was late by
the time they left the bar.

~*~

Chewing her
bottom lip, Cherry peeked out the curtains to the dark car park
beyond. No car lights, no slamming doors. No man. No Damien.

Dropping the
curtain back in place, she reached for the glass of orange juice
then changed her mind. If she drank, she’d want to pee, and peeing
with a strange man waiting for her wasn’t a good thing. Not that
she had a man here waiting for her.

She looked at
her watch. Eleven pm on Saturday twelfth at the Indigo Motel. Right
date, right time and right place. And so far she was here alone. No
Damien. Weren’t escorts supposed to be punctual? Then again,
Saturday night, he could be caught in traffic. Would he have his
own car or come by taxi?

Oh God, what if
the taxi driver was someone she knew? Cherry almost panicked until
she remembered she had only the light on in the bathroom. The glow
coming through the partially opened door cast the room in shadows.
No one who saw her silhouette in the doorway would know it was
her.

Calming down,
she took a small sip of the orange juice and studied herself once
more in the mirror. The dimness of the room meant Damien would be
able to see her, but not too clearly. She didn’t want him to see
her body with the overly-generous curves and dimples, too closely,
and she most certainly didn’t want him to see her face too much.
God forbid he came in as a patient one day!

Nope, they were
doing this in the dimness. She’d decided that for safety reasons.
Safety reasons being she wasn’t going to risk coming face-to-face
with him in the hospital ward and have him saying cheerfully, “Hey
Ms Jones! How’s your non-virginal vagina doing these days? Need
another boink soon?”

Not that he
probably would, being a professional and all – she hoped – but it
didn’t pay to run risks. Hence she’d snap on the outside light when
he knocked and she’d get a good look at him through the window
before she turned off the light and opened the door to
lover-boy.

Loving in the
dimness. How romantic if it were candles instead of the bathroom
light. Still, virginal, desperate beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Anyway, it
looked like her destiny with a hot hunk might not happen. She
looked again at the clock and sighed. Time was ticking away.

She nearly
dropped the glass when a fumble sounded at the door. It was him!
Hands shaking, she licked her lips, smoothed her dress over her
ample hips, and strode to the door. Mind made up, she wasn’t going
to shirk away now. She’d waited forever for this moment.

Snapping on the
light, she peeked out the window. He stood with his head bent,
fingers flicking through a ring of keys. Tall in height, his jacket
was slung negligently over one broad shoulder, his lean waist and
hips poured into black dress slacks. The sleeves of his white dress
shirt were rolled up to just below his elbows and she could see the
play of muscle in his forearms.

He raised his
head when the light came on, revealing his profile. Slightly
dishevelled black hair that came down to his collar, a hank of it
hanging rakishly over his forehead. A straight, autocratic nose,
and, she saw when he looked inquiringly at the window face-on,
bright green eyes and a mouth that was full enough to be sensuous
without being feminine. A strong jaw line.

Oh my God!
He’s drop-dead gorgeous! Damien is hot
.

And he was hers
for two hours. Naked. On her, in her.

Oh shit!
Cherry was so glad she had thought to do everything in the dimness.
A hunk like this looking at her pudgy body in the full glare of the
punishing light was a definite no-go.

Quizzically,
Damien looked at the window. “Hello?” He stepped back and studied
the door before looking back at the window. “This is the right
room.” He sounded puzzled.

No wonder, him
standing out there while she gawked – okay, drooled – at him
through the window. Cherry dropped the curtain, snapped off the
outside light, took a deep breath, and opened the door. “You have
the right room.”

“Really?” In
the gloom, he peered at her. “You are…?”

“Ms Jones.”

“Ms Jones?” He
angled his head.

“Molly Jones.”
Smiling – though goodness knows he probably couldn’t see it
properly in the dimness – she held out her hand. And felt
immediately stupid when he took it slowly and gave it a gentle
shake. Did one shake hands with the man one didn’t know who was
going to boink one’s brains out?

“Molly Jones.”
He studied her. “Well.”

“Please, come
in.” She stepped back and to the side, trying to sound professional
but inwardly quaking with nerves.

She was going
to do it. She was really going to do it!

Damien walked
past her slowly, his stride long and sure, his head angled down
slightly as he looked at her with interest.

Comforted in
the knowledge that he couldn’t see her face too clearly, she
inhaled deeply and was immediately assailed with the scents of
masculine cologne and whisky.

The poor
bastard probably needed a drink before going off to shag his next
client. Needed to get his courage up, not knowing if he was going
to be bedding Bella the Ballerina or Martha the Mega Lady. She fell
more on the Martha side, unfortunately. But she would be nice to
him, he was doing her a favour. A paid favour.
Don’t think about
it.

She shut the
door and clicked the lock into place. About to turn back, she was
stopped by a hand appearing before her nose to land palm down
against the door. Gawking at the hand, she became instantly aware
of the heat of a hard body at her back.

“So, Molly
Jones.” His breath was warm, stirring the hair at her temple. “What
a delightful surprise.”

No kidding.
Goosebumps sprinkled down her arms. “Mmmm.”

One finger came
up to run lightly along the neckline of her dress, leaving a hot,
sparking trail in its wake as he pushed a heavy swath of her hair
aside. “You’re not quite what I expected.”

Instantly she
stiffened. Was he referring to her weight after all?
No! He’s
not supposed to care.

The finger at
her neckline slid down, becoming a hand that came to rest against
her lower back. “Voluptuous. Soft.” The chuckle was whisky-tinged
and so sweetly hot against her skin as firm lips pressed a kiss
against her nape. “Tim knew what I needed.”

“Tim…?” All
thought left her when those firm lips pressed against her throat,
and a tongue laved expertly across her suddenly pounding pulse. Her
knees almost buckled when his palm slid down to spread against one
buttock.

Was it possible
for a bum cheek to go on fire? Cherry was sure she was going to
find out.

“Turn around,
sweets. I want to sample my surprise.”

When had this
turned into his surprise? Did escorts act like this? Wasn’t there a
meet’n’greet system or something? Hell if Cherry knew, and hell if
she cared. Damien was coming on strong and forceful, and by God,
she liked it. She didn’t have to think, didn’t have to make nice,
she just had go along with the flow and enjoy it.

Slowly, she
turned to find him as close as he’d felt. He was leaning on the
door with one hand, and his hand on her bottom trailed around to
rest on her lower abdomen as she moved. Looking up, she was
disappointed that she couldn’t see his face properly.

“Let’s have a
little look at what delectable delight I have here,” he murmured,
reaching for the light switch.

“No!” Cherry
grabbed his wrist.

“No?”

“No.” She took
a deep breath. “My choice, remember?”

“Not
really.”

“My rule. No
looking.”

His teeth were
a flash of white in the gloom. “I can still see a little. What’s
the harm in letting me see everything?”

She stiffened.
“No.”

“Intriguing. A
mystery woman.” His laugh was soft, deep. “I like it.”

Cherry relaxed
against the door, relief sweeping through her.

“I can see a
little of you, enough to know that you’re pretty.” He leaned closer
still, his forearm resting against the door. “So, Molly Jones.” His
big hand crept slowly up over the gentle swell of her stomach. “Any
other rules I need to know?”

Thinking right
now wasn’t easy. Her nerves were jumping, her blood starting to
rush a little bit faster through her veins. It had always been a
fantasy to be in this situation, and to have it actually come to
life…she just hoped she didn’t faint.

“Or are there
no rules?” Damien’s voice was huskier, his lips brushing her
brow.

One big palm
closed over her ample bosom and Cherry’s heart started pounding in
her chest. Sweet Jesus, she was going to have a heart attack any
second!

Looking up in
the dimness, she saw the glitter of his eyes, the green shards of
his irises catching the little bit of light from the partially
opened bathroom door. A wicked glint shone briefly before he moved
his head lower still, blocking out the light so there was only
shadow.

“Let’s go with
no rules, Molly Jones.”

Nerve endings
were fired off in all directions when one hard thigh slid between
her softer ones and pressed against her mound. Hoo boy!

“You look like
you want to say something.” The whisky on his breath was filtering
through her senses along with the scent of his cologne and
maleness. “Say it.”

His hard thigh
nudged her femineity through the material of her dress and panties,
and she gasped. “Oh sweet mercy!”

Low and deep,
his amused laughter slid through the room with heat and through her
senses with lust. “Let’s see if we can do better than that.”
Swooping down, he caught her mouth. Firm lips moulded to hers, his
tongue tracing the seam of her lips with heady determination.

Cherry couldn’t
think, her thoughts scattering as his tongue slid inside and swept
through her mouth to take her flavour and leave his own behind. One
big palm flipped her hair back over her shoulder before dipping
down under the low neckline of her dress to slide in and press on
her bra-covered nipple, rubbing sensuously against it while his
hard thigh kept up a steady nudging of her defenceless womanhood,
forcing her to ride his thigh. Feelings exploded inside her, a
searing flush of heat that burned through her as her thighs, forced
open by the width of his thigh, offered little protection to her
labia, enabling him to press against her clitoris.

Fearing her
knees were truly going to give out, she reached up and gripped his
shirt.

“Good idea,” he
whispered. “Let’s get it off.” Keeping one hand at the small of her
back, he drew her away from the door while unbuttoning his shirt
with his free hand. His gaze slid down her body, lingering on every
swell.

Cherry gulped
inwardly. Even in the dimness he’d be able to see she was no Bella
the Ballerina. Her wrap-around dress had a low neckline, showing
her ample cleavage to advantage, and it skimmed her waist which,
thankfully, swept inwards, but then the skirt of the dress swept
out to gracefully ride the generous curves of her hips before
falling to brush around her knees.

At least in the
dimness he wouldn’t see the dimples in her knees. Or in her arse
cheeks, and she knew they were there because she’d just about done
herself an injury one day, craning her neck in the mirror to check
out her arse. It was the last time she’d ever looked at it.

She didn’t have
to worry with Damien, however, in this dimness he wouldn’t be able
to see dimples. Dim enough to know she wasn’t slim, but not enough
for the glaring faults to stand out.

It worked two
ways. She had enough light to be able to see his hard, muscular
body as he bared it to her eyes. The dim light picked out every
hard swell of his pecs, the six pack he so brazenly displayed as
the shirt parted, and the impressive flex and swell of his biceps
as he shrugged out of the shirt and tossed it aside.

“Fair is fair,
sweets.” His words were seductive.

Distracted from
staring at his body, Cherry looked up at him. “What?”

His smile was
another flash of white teeth in the gloom. “My shirt is off, I want
your top off, too.”

Cherry
swallowed. Here it was, the undressing. With trembling fingers, she
reached for the tie at her waist, pulling the knot free easily.
Everything loosened immediately and she mentally girded
herself.

“A
wrap-around.” Damien moved closer. “How utterly seductive of you,
Molly Jones.” Reaching out, he took the tie from her nerveless
fingers and tugged her closer. “Rather like unwrapping a present. I
do like unwrapping presents.” Flicking the tie open, he kept her
gaze locked with his while the dress slipped to lay loose around
her.

Moving even
closer until his body was a mere hairbreadth from hers, the heat of
him seeping deliciously into her, Damien slid his hands inside the
dress to rest upon – her hips! Her big, enormous, overly-curved
hips!

Cherry almost
died then and there, but before she could even think to back out of
every plan she had, he tugged her full against him, lowering his
head and capturing her mouth once more.