Doctor's Delight (6 page)

Her body was so
damned soft, a cushion for his hard planes.

He kept his
gaze locked on her, his voice almost harsh as he ordered quietly,
“Look at me.”

Molly opened
eyes that were bright with passion, her lips swollen from his
punishing kisses. She looked exactly what she was – a woman well
ravished.

Even as he
pounded harder into her, a distant part of him wished the light was
on so that he could see her properly, that she could see him, that
he could tell the true colour of her eyes and explore her body with
nothing to hide her secrets from his hot gaze.

Pure carnal
lust hazed over his distant thoughts when Molly shifted beneath
him, causing him to change angle, his shaft almost sliding out of
her. The cool air on his heated flesh only added fuel to the fire
and he moved inside her again, sure and fast, stroking hard, his
breath loud in the room, her moans a sweet goading to his
senses.

The fire built
hotter, his scrotum tightening, his balls so hard and full he felt
like he’d burst. He could swear he felt the fire running through
his shaft, swelling the head even more, and then he felt it, the
first spurt of seed.

Almost at the
same instant he felt the ripple of her sheath, the muscles clamping
down on him, and it was his undoing. Sweet mercy, was it! His
climax shuddered his hips, grinding him against her as she clasped
him, her sheath milking his shaft mercilessly.

He rocketed
over the edge of that carnal eruption, his hips jerking hard
against her, once, twice, three times. Her cry of orgasm echoed in
his ears as he soared out and splintered into a million delicious,
fiery pieces.

~*~

Cherry knotted
the tie of her dress around her waist while studying the man
sleeping so soundly in the bed she’d just vacated. He slept like
the dead, heavily and with not a worry in the world, it would
appear. Lying on his stomach, his dark hair flopped rakishly over
his forehead, his muscular arms bent and hands under the pillow
beneath his head. The strong lines of his naked back, buttocks and
legs were enough to make her lick her lips.

All that
strength had been above her and inside her. Damien had taken her to
a place she’d never thought she’d see, that was surely just a myth
found in romance novels. Turned out it wasn’t a myth. She wondered
if it was the same with all men, or just special ones. Or just with
professionals.

Pushing her
hair back over her shoulders, she checked her watch. The taxi would
arrive in five minutes. She’d foolishly allowed her self to
luxuriate in Damien’s arms, lying snug against him while he slept.
For the first time in her life she knew what it was like to be held
in a lover’s embrace. When he turned onto his stomach, thereby
releasing her, she’d reluctantly and stealthily left the bed. The
last thing she wanted was the taxi to toot its horn and possibly
wake up Damien.

Placing the
four hundred dollars on the bedside table, she took one last, long,
lingering look at the slumbering man and then, with a sigh, she
dropped the motel room key beside his wallet, picked up her handbag
and crept outside, careful to ensure that the lock clicked into
place behind her.

Outside it felt
chilly, and she tilted her face to the sky to inhale the damp night
air. She felt…different. Deliciously used, a little sore, satisfied
but also strangely bereft. Then and there she decided that she just
might have to book Damien again for another night a little later
down the track. For now she was going to bask in the afterglow of
her first time of sex.

The taxi came
and she stepped out, holding up her hand. It slowed down and she
climbed into the back. Giving her address, she settled back against
the seat and closed her eyes.

The taxi driver
tried a few times to initiate a conversation but when all he got
was a couple of “hmmms”, he gave up and the rest of the trip was in
silence.

Once inside her
own home, she greeted the cats who simply eyed her sleepily from
her bed and went back to sleep. Smiling to herself, humming a
little tune, she went into the bathroom and slipped off her dress
before stepping into the shower.

The smear of
blood on her inner thighs made her smile wider.

She’d done it.
She’d really done it! She’d actually made love with a hunk who
literally shook her world.

Damn if she
wasn’t going to do it again soon. Hot damn if Damien’s number
wasn’t going to go on speed dial.

Okay, maybe not
exactly on speed dial – God forbid her Mother tried to dial her
‘friend’ unknowingly - but she was certainly going to put that
number in a really safe, private place.

Giggling, she
fell into bed, much to the annoyance of Sugar and Frizz. Unable to
sleep, she picked up the romance novel and started reading, but
every sex or kissing scene in it led her mind right back to
Damien.

When she
finally fell asleep, her dreams were filled with hot green eyes,
rakishly tousled hair, and such knowing fingers they had her
moaning in her sleep.

~*~

Coming awake
slowly, Rick winced at the dull throb behind his eyes.
Overindulging in whiskey with his best friend wasn’t exactly the
smartest thing he’d done yesterday.

Turning over
carefully in the bed, he caught a whiff of a faint, fresh fragrance
and took another, deeper breath. There it was again, faint and
fresh, a scent familiar somehow, familiar because…He frowned and
took in another breath. Familiar because – his eyes widened and he
sat up with a jerk, ignoring the throb at his temples.

Looking down at
the empty space beside him, memory came back in a rush. Tim telling
him he had a surprise for him back at the motel, and the rubenesque
woman waiting for him, so curvy and soft, with big eyes and cupid
lips that begged to be thoroughly ravished by his marauding
mouth.

Marauding was
right. He could feel his blood rush just a little faster at the
memory. Where Tim had found such a woman was beyond Rick, but he
was going to find out, because he wanted to see her again. Some of
Tim’s friends were dubious, but others Rick was more than willing
to mix with, and the luscious woman who had shared her body with
him was in that category. He couldn’t wait to find out who she was,
and better yet, her phone number.

But first
things first, he had a slight hangover to attend. Turning, Rick
threw back the covers and swung out of bed, going straight to the
bathroom for Panadol and a shower. When he got there, he frowned.
His toiletries weren’t on the basin, his bathrobe wasn’t on the
back of the door, in fact the bathroom was almost pristine, as
though no one had used the shower at all. The towels were clean,
hung up neatly, the soaps still in the little packets. He knew he
hadn’t left the bathroom like that the night before, for he’d
showered and shaved prior to the party.

Leaving the
bathroom, he looked around the room in growing bewilderment. His
clothes and shoes had been draped over the chair, his wallet on the
bedside table. None of his belongings were anywhere in the room. He
double-checked the wardrobe but it was empty.

Where were his
things? Surely the woman –
oh shit!
Had she cleaned him out,
robbed him while he slept?

Moving fast, he
snatched the wallet off the table and checked it. No, his money and
cards were all there, along with, strangely enough, a small stack
of fifty dollar notes. He counted them, a full four hundred
dollars. Weird, and getting weirder by the minute.

Frowning, his
gaze fell on the key and he stared at it for several seconds while
a growing sense of dread filled him. Reaching out, he picked up the
key and turned it around. The number six was now a nine.

He was in the
wrong room!

And if he was
in the wrong room, then how had the woman been expecting him? Brow
furrowed in concentration, he thought back to their encounter, and
now he remembered that when he’d said Tim knew what I needed, she’d
looked at him a little oddly and replied Tim? And that was all
she’d said, because he hadn’t given her any time to enlarge upon
the subject.

Oh bloody hell!
She hadn’t been expecting him! Had she? But she’d seemed so
willing, almost eager, though with a shyness that had touched
him.

His gaze went
to the bed. She’d been…what was that? He leaned closer, seeing it
but not quite believing it. Blood. A smear of blood on the
sheet.

The throbbing
in his head was forgotten as he remembered something else. His
entry into her had felt like a tight fist enclosing him. He’d
forged onward, thrusting deep, a split second of something barring
his way, and then he’d pushed through it. Her stiffening.

“Oh shit!” He
straightened abruptly. “Molly Jones was a
virgin
!”

~*~

There was no
pulling the wool over Susie’s eyes when she and Maxie came over the
next day. Susie took one look at Cherry when she opened the door
and practically leaped through the opening. “When, where, and with
who?” she demanded.

Maxie meandered
in behind her, her sandals scuffing on the tiled floor.

“What?” Cherry
tried in vain to stop the blush creeping into her cheeks.

“You had sex!”
Susie announced triumphantly.

“What?” Maxie
looked from Susie to Cherry. “What do you mean? Are you sure?”

“Geez, Max,
just look at her face.”

Cherry felt her
cheeks flame hotter when Maxie flicked a glance at her and then
peered closer. Her friend’s eyes widened. “Whoa!”

“Don’t try to
deny it,” Susie added.

“I didn’t—”

“Cherry got her
cherry popped!” Maxie punched her fist into her open palm. “Hot
damn! Details, girl!”

“And don’t
leave anything out.” Grabbing her by the arm, Susie practically
dragged Cherry into the kitchen, pushed her down into the chair,
crossed to the ’fridge and pulled out three Diet Cokes. Popping the
tops on all three cans, she placed them on the table and flopped
down in a chair.

“Hey,” said
Cherry. “Make yourself at home.”

“Was there any
doubt?” Maxie took a long drink of the Diet Coke and gave a small
burp.

Arms folded on
the table, Susie leaned forward and looked hard at Cherry. “You
were going to tell us, right?”

“Ummm…”

“Cherry.”

“Of course I
was. Sheesh.” Cherry rolled her eyes. “I just didn’t expect you
both to come around today, so I wasn’t, you know…”

“Ready?” Susie
supplied dryly.

“That’d be
it.”

“Well, we’re
here now, so spill.”

Picking up the
can of Diet Coke, Cherry took several sips while trying to gather
her thoughts for the most appropriate way to begin. And trying to
control her blush.

“Escort
agency?” Maxie queried.

“Yep. I did
it.” Cherry bit her lip and kept her eyes on the can as she rolled
the bottom of it on the table in a slow circle. “Hired a man for
several hours.”

“And?” Susie
encouraged.

“I met him at a
motel. We had…uh…sex. I left and came home.”

“Oh no.” Susie
shook her head. “That just won’t do.”

“Please?”

“Everything,”
Maxie said. “You tell us everything.”

“Geez, Max, I
don’t ask you to describe your sex.”

“You know what
my lover looks like. Tell us what this man looked like. What was
his name?”

“Damien.”

Maxie and Susie
nodded.

“Um…green eyes,
black hair.”

“Build?”

“Good.”

They stared at
her.

“Better than
good.” Meeting their eyes, Cherry flushed but grinned slightly.
“Six pack.” Just the memory gave her a little rush.

Maxie grinned.
“Six pack is good.”

“Very good.”
Susie nodded. “How was the meeting?”

“He was
very…not forceful. He was…commanding?”

“He ordered
you?”

“No! He was…”
Frowning, Cherry tried to think of the right word to describe his
manner.

“Masterful?"
Maxie suggested.

“Yes. But in a
good way.” Unable to help herself, Cherry grinned a little
self-consciously. “He took charge. I didn’t know escorts did
that.”

“If that’s what
you asked for, that’s what you get.” Susie smiled.

“I didn’t
actually ask for that, but I’m not complaining.”

“Must be a real
professional to know what you needed.” Maxie sighed dreamily and
slouched back in the chair.

Susie tapped
the table with her fingertips. “So, reckon you’ll hire him
again?”

Cherry grinned
and wrinkled her nose, and Susie laughed in delight.

A flat buzz
came from Cherry’s handbag sitting on the bench and she stared at
it for several seconds before realizing the cause. More than a
little perplexed, she went to her bag and withdrew the pre-paid
mobile phone. Flipping it open, she put it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Ms Jones?”

Ms Jones? This
was a woman’s voice, so that must mean… “Helen?”

“That’s right.
Ms Jones, I am so sorry about last night.”

“You are?”
Puzzled, Cherry turned her back on her friends and stared out the
window into the garden beyond.

“Of course.
Damien was in an accident and didn’t make your appointment. I do
hope you’re not too upset.” Helen spoke warmly, with just the right
amount of business-like concern in her tone. “We didn’t find out
until this morning, so of course I got straight onto your phone
number. Please, be assured that we would normally let our clients
know straight away if their appointment is not going to be
met.”

Feeling herself
go numb, Cherry’s hand tightened on the phone. “Damien didn’t make
it?”

“No. As you
would know.” Helen now sounded as puzzled as Cherry. “Ms Jones, are
you all right? Did anything happen last night?”

“What time did
Damien go to hospital?”
Oh no, oh nononononono
.