Dr. Chase Hudson (The Surrogate Book 2) (12 page)

She looked up, right into my eyes, “Just you.”

“Do you think you can, maybe, keep talking to me
about it? Not right now,” I said, watching her. “But...
whenever you need to talk about it. I'm a good listener.”

“You won't tell Nat?” she asked, looking
anxious.

“I won't tell anyone unless you want me to.”

She let out her held breath, nodding a little. “Okay.”

“Okay,” I said back, letting the subject
drop and going back to my books.

But from then on, when she needed to, she talked to me.

She talked about what she remembered from that night.
She talked about how she felt that next morning. How she kept it from
Natalie when she got back to their apartment and Nat asked some
questions. She told me about the trip to the clinic she made to get
checked up a few weeks later. She told me how she didn't like leaving
her apartment anymore because she was afraid she would cross paths
with the guy from the party again.

Then she told me that she never

ever

wanted to have sex again.

Fifth Session

By the time she walked into my office Thursday night, I
had managed to work myself into a million untangle-able knots. About
her. About what I felt like was happening. About me. About why I was
feeling the things I was. About if it was just my past coming up to
haunt me. About my fucking career- the one thing that I had in my
life that mattered. My livelihood. My passion. It was the thing that
was being threatened every single time she graced my office with her
presence.

I was tense. Every nerve was on edge. A muscle was
ticking in my jaw.

The door opened and Ava walked in dressed head to toe
in black, turning to lock the door behind her.

“Ava,” I said, careful to not call her a
pet name at first greeting, knowing that was a habit I had to break.

“Hey,” she said back, her voice wavering.

My mind cleared enough to take in that she was still in
the doorway. She was as tense as I was. That anxiety was practically
sparking off her skin.

“You look like you're ready to bolt.”

“Yeah.”

“Care to tell me why?”

A strange pained look passed over her face, but she
quickly pushed it away and a brow rose instead. “I don't know.
Care to tell me why you're so tense?”

Ha.

Well then.

She had me there.

And damn if it wasn't sexy as hell that she was
calling me out on my shit.

“That was... snippy,” I said, fighting a
smile.

“Yes. I have feelings other than anxiety you
know,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. But it was all
bluster. She was covering something else, an emotion more delicate
than anger.

“I'm getting a picture,” I said, letting
myself smile. I felt some of the tension leaving my body, enjoying
getting to see Ava in another new light. And fuck if she didn't look
great in it too. “Jake on your nerves again?” I asked.

“Jake's been great actually,” she said,
surprising me, but I was glad for it too.

“Work getting to you?” I tried.

“I took off yesterday. And it was my manager's
birthday today so all we did was eat cake and gab.” That was
more information than she normally offered. And yet, she wasn't
telling me anything.

“You took off yesterday? Were you sick?”

She looked like she might roll her eyes at me, like I
was trying her patience. In the end, she just exhaled. “No. I
just wanted a day off.”

“What did you do?” I asked, wondering if it
meant something that she was still in the doorway. I knew why I was
still behind the desk. I needed to keep some literal space between us
or I was never going to be able to keep the metaphorical space I
needed from her.

“I ate enough gelato to feed a small village and
watched TV with Jake.”

She liked gelato. Not normal ice cream. Gelato. It was
something I felt glad knowing. Which made no sense. Because it was
something that I had no reason to want to know about a client. A
patient.

“Sounds like a good day.”

“It was much needed,” she agreed on a small
nod.

Alright. That was enough.

“Are you going to stand in the doorway all
night?”

“Are you going to stand behind the desk all
night?” she countered, her tone sharp and I wanted to strip her
down and fuck her right where she was standing. Was there anything
hotter than a woman who could dish it out a little?

“Alright, smartass,” I smiled as I moved
toward my office door, “let's go get a drink.”

I heard her following behind me as I went to make
drinks. Beside me, at the stereo, she jabbed her finger at the screen
harder than necessary. Then, a few seconds later, ear-piercing metal
screamed through the speakers.

I lifted a brow, handing her a drink and watched her
throw it back in one shot. I did the same. I had a feeling I was
going to need it.

“I get it,” I said, taking her drink and
setting it aside. “You're in a mood.” I moved to the
stereo and flipped through the playlists. “But let's listen to
something a little more appropriate for the session,” I said,
hitting a sensual r&b playlist. “You haven't asked what
tonight's session is yet.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to know?” I asked, my brows
drawing together in confusion. Everything about her was off. She
wasn't making any kind of sense.

She shrugged. “Sure.”

Sure?
Sure?
What the fuck was going on with her?

She wanted to play that game? I could play. And I could
win.

So I went and laid down the royal flush.

“I am going to go down on you. And you are going
to go down on me.” Unfortunately, I didn't get the response I
was looking for- meaning a genuine Ava one. No. I got a bit of wide
eye, a bit of parted lips, but then... nothing. “Do you know
what that means?”

“Yes.”

“Oral sex,” I clarified.

“I'm aware.”

Jesus Christ.

“Okay. Enough,” I clipped. “What's
the matter?”

“I'm fine.”

“No... you're not.”

“Is that your...
professional
opinion?”

Fucking hell.

If there was one thing I didn't want thrown in my face
that night, that was it.

“Are you having problems with this situation?”

Something flashed again. “I think things are
going pretty well.”

“That's not what I asked, Ava. I want...” I
wanted a lot of god damn things I could never fucking have was what I
wanted. “Oh, fuck talking...” I growled, grabbing her
roughly and crashing my lips down on hers.

Gone was Chase, the doctor. Or Chase, the surrogate.

It was just fucking me. Just me and what I wanted.
Hard. Rough. Consuming. Demanding. My teeth bit her lip until she
gasped so my tongue could slip inside to claim hers. My hands went
under her sweater up her back. Then they moved around to the front.
Up her belly. Over her bra, squeezing to the point of pain before
slipping my hands inside the cups to pinch and twist her nipples.

I made her walls fall down.

I made her let me
fucking
in
.

Then and only then did I pull away.

“There. That's better,” I said, taking in
her heavy-lidded cloudy eyes, her flushed cheeks, her beard-burnt
skin, her swollen lips. The shield was gone. I had my girl back.

Jesus fuck.

She wasn't
my
anything.

“Don't think you can...” she started, her
tone angry. But I wasn't letting her go there. I grabbed her sweater,
pulling it up roughly, making her stop talking. “Listen...”
she started, shirt gone, glaring at me.

“Nope,” I said, shrugging.

“What?” she asked, looking shocked.

Good. Shocked was good. Angry was good. Turned on was
good. Anything other than the closed down mask she was wearing before
was good.

“No. I'm not going to listen. I am going to take
the rest of your clothes off and bury my face in your pussy until you
are screaming so loud you forget all about being in this pissy ass
mood.”

Not a minute after the words left my mouth, she was out
of her bra. And pants. And panties.

“Much better,” I said, raking my eyes over
her body, wanting to memorize every last inch. “Get on the
bed.”

“You're still...” she started, waving a
hand toward my clothes.

Then I was out of them. Except for my boxer briefs.

“Now get on
the bed,” I told her, my tone brooking no god damn further
argument.

She got on the bed.

I moved to the foot of the bed, grabbing her and
dragging her down toward the edge. I grabbed her ankles, putting them
on my shoulders, making her legs spread wide for me so I could look
at her pussy.

And it was drenched.

Fuck
me.

“Chase...”
she started to object, squirming a little under my inspection.

“Shh,”
I said, not wanting to have to ruin the moment. She was spread before
me. For the moment, she was fucking
mine.
And
I took damn good care of what was mine. So I dipped my head and I ran
my tongue up the crease of her pussy, letting her taste consume my
senses as she moaned. I ate her like my fucking life depended on it-
like it was the last time I would get to taste a pussy- like I needed
to make it good enough to last a lifetime.

I waited until she was writhing, clutching the sheets,
groaning until I curled my tongue and slipped it inside her.

“Oh my god,” she cried, her hands slamming
down on my head, holding me tight to her like she was worried I would
stop. I never wanted to stop. So I thrust fast, unrelenting, fucking
her with with my tongue until her whimpers and moans became begs for
release.

“Chase... please... please....”

Her pussy was tight around my tongue. She was going to
come. I slid my tongue up her cleft and pressed it hard against her
clit.

Then all there was in the world was her crying out my
name over and over as she came.

“Fuck baby,” I said, lifting my head to
look at her. Come drunk, her only response was to pat the back of my
head. “Hmm,” I said, looking back down at her pussy. “I
don't think that quite cut it,” I teased.

“Chase, I can't...” she started to object.

“Well, we'll just see about that, won't we?”

And then we did.

And she totally could.

And she screamed loud enough to forget about her pissy
ass mood.

“You taste so sweet,” I told her, moving
beside her and pulling her onto my chest. Don't ask me why. That was
just where I always seemed to want her. It was where she belonged.

God.

I needed to stop thinking shit like that.

She settled into me, her body going soft, her breathing
becoming even.

“You okay?” I asked a while later,
reminding myself I had a fucking job to do. That job included making
sure she wasn't freaking out about my face between her legs.

“Mmmhmmm,” the sound vibrated through her.

“Little come-drunk, huh?” I asked, feeling
a little (okay pretty damn) proud of myself.

“What?” she asked, tilting her head up to
look at me.

“Come drunk. Orgasm drunk,” I explained,
watching as the realization made her face light up and had her
giggling.

She put her head back down on my chest. “I
guess.”

“You handled that a lot better than I thought you
would.”

“Did you expect me to start yelling and push you
off?”

“Maybe,” I mused. “Maybe something
not so dramatic. I didn't think you would just... enjoy yourself.”

“I enjoyed... you,” she said shyly.

Christ.

She was so fucking sweet.

“That's sweet,” I said, leaning down and
kissing her head. “God, you're like a teensy little oven,”
I complained, kicking off the sheets for some cool air because there
was no way I wanted her to move off of me.

Her gaze went down to where my cock was still straining
hard through my underwear. Then, ever so slowly, her hand started
moving downward.

“Babe,” I said, grabbing her wrist, not
wanting her to think she had to do anything just because I took care
of her. “It's okay. We have all night. You don't need to...”

“But I want to,” she said, pushing up on my
chest so she could look down at me.