Dr. Chase Hudson (The Surrogate Book 2) (17 page)

BOOK: Dr. Chase Hudson (The Surrogate Book 2)
2.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Is she gonna be alright?” she asked,
sounding concerned. “I've seen her panic before but this is
different.”

“She'll be
okay,” I said. She would. She had to be. No matter what. No
matter how
long it took, how much work it took. I
broke her. I was going to fix her.

“What happened?”

I sighed. “Honestly?” I asked, shaking my
head. “I don't know.”

“Did you guys...”

“Yeah. But she was fine. I swear, Shay. I was
paying attention.” Yeah, I was trying to etch every single
memory, every breath, every sigh into my soul. I didn't miss
anything. “In my professional opinion, she was handling it
really well.”

Then Ava wasn't calm and still against me anymore. No.
She shrank away. Like I disgusted her. Like she didn't want to be
anywhere near me. She rolled onto her other side, facing away from
me, and curling back up into her ball again.

“I guess she didn't like something you said,”
Shay said, standing.

“Yeah,” I agreed, feeling suddenly tired.
Bone deep fucking tired. Body and soul. “But fuck if I know
what it was.”

“Figure it out,” Shay said, her tone
leaving no leeway for me to screw that mission up. “I mean it,
Doc. Fix her. I want her back to how she was before. She was doing so
good. Going out. Being more open with me and Jake...”

“I know.”

“How many more sessions are you supposed to
have?”

“Four.”

“What are they?” she asked bluntly.

It wasn't really right for me to tell her. At least not
the specifics. But she was worried about her friend. And, well, I
didn't think she was the type of woman who would back down. “More...
intimacy,” I hedged. “For two more sessions. Then on the
ninth session, I take her out.”

“For what?”

“To teach her how to handle herself around men.
Flirt with them,” I said, the words like venom to my system.
“Shut them down if she doesn't want them. Prepare for her new
life once therapy is over.”

“And the last?” Shay pressed.

“Patient's choice. We can do recaps of
everything. We can try a fetish if there is one she is interested in.
Threesomes. Or even just... talk therapy.”

“Pretty sure she ain't into threesomes.”

“I know. I honestly hate those sessions anyway,”
I admitted, shaking my head.

“Too much work, huh?” Shay asked with a
knowing smile.

“I think the only men who want them are men who
have no idea what they are getting into.”

“Well,” Shay said, moving toward the door,
“like I said... fix her. She's the best.”

“I know,” I said, but Shay was already
gone. I was talking to myself.

I sat up for I don't know how long listening to her
cry. I wanted to reach out for her. I wanted to do or say anything to
help her. But she didn't want my affection and I suddenly found
myself lost for words.

Finally, she fell asleep.

A while later, so did I.

I woke up alone. Again. Ava was gone. Again.

I sat up in her bed that smelled too much like her and
ran my hands down my face. I was hoping that her being up was a good
thing. That she wasn't just trying to get away from me again.

I got up on a sigh, moving toward the door and stopping
in the doorway as I watched Ava walk out of the bathroom in jeans and
a black long sleeve tee. Her wet hair was pulled back into a ponytail
which only accented how swollen and red her eyes were.

“I said we both got the stomach flu from some bad
take-out,” Shay's voice called from the kitchen. “You
'aight?”

Ava opened her mouth to speak then turned suddenly, her
eyes catching mine. Then she looked me up and down, taking in my face
which likely looked as rough as I felt, then looking over my wrinkled
suit.

“Ava...” I said, a thousand words caught on
my tongue.

She turned to Shay for a second, who nodded, then
walked toward me, waiting for me to move out of the way so we could
both go in her bedroom.

I closed the door behind me as she took a deep breath
as if trying to steel herself. “I'm sorry,” she said,
lifting her chin a little.

“Ava you have nothing to be sorry for,” I
said, shaking my head. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I... had a panic attack,” she said,
unnecessarily. “After. Which was different and I just... didn't
handle it well.”

Something didn't feel right about that to me. But I
couldn't place it and I couldn't press her either. “Okay. Why
didn't you tell me?”

“I just... needed some space.”

Again, something felt false in her words.

“Alright. I understand,” I said, though I
didn't because she wasn't being honest. “I wish you would have
felt comfortable enough to share that with me though.” Or tell
me the truth right then. “So we could work it out together.”

“I'll try harder next time,” she said and
there was a sort of determination in her words. “It just kind
of snuck up on me. I was zero to ten in like two minutes.”

I nodded, moving toward her, my hand rising to touch
her cheek. I needed to feel connected to her again. But she shrank
away, skirting past me, and going toward the door. “I think
Shay is making breakfast. You're welcome to stay,” she said
almost robotically.

“Oh, um. I have to go home and change. I have a
client at ten,” I said, watching her with drawn-together brows.

“Okay. What time is our next session?” she
asked in the same dead tone.

“Ava, are you sure you're alright? You seem...”

“I'm fine,” she interrupted brightly,
plastering on a smile that I didn't buy for a second.

I watched her for a beat, weighing whether or not to
push her before deciding it wasn't the time. “Okay,” I
sighed. “Tomorrow at seven.”

“Alright,” she said as she opened the door
and started leading me through the apartment. “I'll see you
then. I'm sorry you needed to come out.”

“I didn't
need
to come. I
wanted
to
come. And it's nothing. I'll see you tomorrow,” I said, not
wanting to leave. I wanted, instead, to cancel all my clients and
drag her back into her bedroom to force her to tell me the truth.

“Yup. See you then,” she said and gave me
the fake smile again and shut the door in my face.

Seventh Session

By the time seven rolled around the next night, I had
calmed myself down. Thank god. Because up until then, I was ready to
jump down her throat and demand a little honesty. But that was pure
selfishness. So I got my shit together and got my head in the game.

The door opened and there she was in a simple
long-sleeve dress.

“Ava,” I said, sending her a small smile.

“Chase,” she said back as she turned to
lock the door.

“How are you feeling?”

“Can't complain,” she shrugged, walking
toward me. That was new. I was always the one to approach her.

“You sure? You seem a little...” There
wasn't even a word for it. Off. Not herself. Something to that
effect.

“My roommates are at each other's throats.”

“Roommates?” I asked as we walked through
my office and into the bedroom. “Plural?”

“Yeah, Shay is moving in,” she said
casually as she gave the playlist more consideration than usual. She
finally hit one and then the music from a list called “fucking”
came on, making me almost drop the martini I was holding out to her.
“What?” she asked, feigning innocence as filthy lyrics
blasted through the speakers.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head,
watching as she drained her drink.

“So session seven...” she started.

“Yeah,” I said, shaking my head again.
Nothing about her was right. But I gestured toward the nightstand
where a basket full of sex toys was situated. “These are just
here in case you want to experiment,” I said, moving to stand
beside her as she looked through the contents. “There is no
pressure. Some of the items in there are things that some people will
never have any interest in and that's fine. But I like to bring it
all out because it can be easier to point out something instead of
telling someone that you want to try it.”

She nodded, reaching into the basket, and coming back
with a lilac colored vibrator. She tossed it onto the bed with a
shrug, making my cock twitch in anticipation. “Yeah?” I
asked.

“Sure. Why not?” she countered, kicking out
of her shoes then ripping her dress off.

I was just about to ask again what was wrong when my
air hissed out of my mouth. Because she wasn't just out of her dress.
She was completely fucking naked.

“You were just,” I started, my voice low
and deep, “walking up my street pantyless in that dress?”
I asked, a smile tugging at my lips

“Yes. Now why are you still dressed?” she
demanded, her voice strong.

I felt my brows draw together, my head tilting as I
watched her for a minute. I wanted to ask. I really did. But if she
wanted to take the lead, then there was no good reason for me to
question her. Taking the lead was a big step for many women. For her,
it was huge. So I was just going to enjoy it. I started taking off my
clothes. She sat down on the bed, working at the plastic casing to
the vibrator until she got it free.

Done undressing, I took the vibrator from her hands,
twisted off the battery cap, inserted batteries, and twisted it back
on.

“Lay back and spread your legs,” I said,
kneeling on the edge of the bed.

She immediately scooted back, letting her legs fall
open. She was already wet for me. I took a steadying breath as a jolt
of desire shot through my system. I brought my arm forward, running
the vibrator between the folds of her pussy. She flinched away from
the cold until I turned it on.

And her entire body shuddered.

Shuddered
.

Hard.

Fuck me.

I moved it up toward her clit and her eyes went huge.
Her mouth fell open. Her back arched. Jesus Christ. Her moans filled
my ears, making the urge to get inside her overwhelm me. But I needed
to see her come first. So I just kept pulsing the vibrator on her
clit.

It was barely two minutes before her orgasm ripped
through her violently, making her cry out and wrench away from the
sensation to curl up on her side and shake through the waves.

“Jesus Christ,” I groaned, turning off the
vibrator and setting it aside. She was still curled into herself, her
breathing erratic when I crawled onto the bed behind her, putting my
hand on her hip. “Baby?”

She sucked in a breath. “I'm fine.”

“You sure?” I asked her back.

“Yep. That was just... intense.”

That was putting it fucking lightly.

“Yeah, I know,” I said, letting my hands
stroke up her spine. “Just watching you through that... fuck
me.”

Then suddenly, she rolled onto her back. “Go
ahead,” she said, making my brows draw together. Go ahead?

“What?” I asked, my hand seemingly unable
to strop touching her as I stroked across her belly.

“Fuck me,” she said, keeping her gaze on
mine, almost like a challenge. Like she was daring me to call her on
it.

“What?” I asked again, not quite believing
she could be saying those words.

“I said go ahead and fuck me.”

“Jesus,” I hissed, shaking my head at her.
Again, on a personal level, I wanted to ask her what was up. I wanted
to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with her. But on a
professional level, it would be stupid to try to take her power away
from her.

Then she shot up off the bed, moving to the edge,
making my heart fly into my chest. She wasn't going to run from me.
Not again.

“Babe... what's the matter? Where are you going?”

She turned back toward me, holding out a condom foil.
“Just getting something,” she said, pressing it into my
hand.

I broke open the condom and slipped it on, keeping my
gaze on hers, trying to figure her out. But her mask was carefully in
place.

God damn it.

Once the condom was on, she moved to lay down on the
mattress and I grabbed her arm to stop her. “No. We did that
already,” I told her, watching a bit of surprise cross her face
and feeling unreasonably pleased by it. At least it was a genuine
reaction. “Time for something new.”

“Okay,” she said, shrugging.

I wanted to shake her. How the hell was I supposed to
fuck her when she was being so distant? So shut down?

“Come here,” I said, patting my leg.

She unfolded from herself slowly, hesitantly moving to
straddle my waist. “Like this?” she asked, her tone a
little shy as she rested her hand tentatively on my shoulder. Fuck
yeah. There was my girl.

Other books

Zombies Don't Cry by Brian Stableford
The Fenway Foul-Up by David A. Kelly
Rebel's Tag by K. L. Denman
Africa39 by Wole Soyinka
The Coil by Gayle Lynds
Vineyard Chill by Philip R. Craig