In Good Hands With My Dad's Best Friend (BBW Contemporary Medical Taboo Romance) (7 page)

“Okay. Then we need to get proactive here. I promise you it will be okay.”

“I know it will. I have faith in all of you.”

“Your dream team,” Keith told her, stunned when she kissed him right there at the table in front of her folks. He was even more stunned when they didn’t react outside of Jim rolling his eyes.

They would figure this out together. Jan was going to be okay.

Four Months Later

“Honey, I’m home!”

Jan smiled as Keith did his best, read very bad, Desi Arnaz impression. She was on the couch, looking through a lesson plan.

The last few months had been full of ups and downs. Jan’s school had been closed, and several of the staff members had been sanctioned, though Jan had been ruled to be in the clear. Still, given the situation, she’d taken some time off, to try to regroup. Jan had intended for there to be a break of a few months, while she got used to being Mrs. Gordon, but that hadn’t happened.

Not the Mrs. Gordon part. That had happened three weeks ago, in a quiet, beautiful ceremony. It would have been a whirlwind courtship, except they’d finally faced the relationship they’d been denying all this time. Their romance had been explosive, but the feelings and care behind it had been nothing but the truth, and they’d built upon all the time they’d known each other to create a life together.

Keith had wanted Jan to be a typical doctor’s wife, and had suggested she stay at home for a while before seeking work. Part of that was probably to protect her, she’d realized.

When a mother of a former student had called Jan, only two weeks into her break, she hadn’t known what to think. And then, when the other had explained they were investigating an educational co-op, home schooling a dozen children, and asked if Jan would be interested in teaching them, she’d been astounded. With the situation with Brody still being so hot, she’d thought nobody would hire her.

She was a natural fit for the position and the kids--six to nine year olds--adored her. It had given Jan new purpose and a career trajectory she hadn’t expected, but it was a great fit.

“How are you, sweetheart?” Keith asked, dropping onto the couch beside Jan. It was so nice that they had this personal synergy as well as the sexual. He was her best friend, the one she trusted with all her secrets, and even more than that, the one she trusted never to betray her confidences. A friend, a lover, and an incredibly hot man who had made her his bride. How had she gotten so lucky?

“Good. How was your day?”

“Quiet. Only seven patients, nothing too horrible.” He gave her a wink. “You busy or you want to um...mess around?”

“Is that a proposal, or a proposition?”

“Whatever it is, honey, I just want to fuck you.” Keith stood and reached for Jan’s hand.

Keith’s rough language turned her on, and Jan slipped the papers off her lap. He could turn her on so much with a look or an appraising expression, and Jan thrilled to his gaze, the need in him that he so easily displayed.

And that beautiful hard cock of his that was already straining his button fly. “I love this aversion to underwear you have,” she told him, fingertips brushing over his bulge.

“Easier access,” he said, his voice going raspy and sexy. Jan unbuttoned him with deft hands, stroking her hand over his length. She kissed the head, sucking it into her mouth with just the right amount of suction to drive him crazy. It had been amazing learning all of his hot spots, the way he groaned when she bit lightly under the head, and the way he loved it when she ran her fingers over his balls, and sometimes even over the ridge that ran further back. And he was just as good, learning the exact pressure that drove her crazy when he licked her pussy, his tongue pressing into her G-spot as if he had a map telling him every one of her hot spots.

The small things turned Keith on and Jan loved giving him all the satisfaction she could muster, sometimes getting him off three or four times in a night. There was a wealth of power there, a give and take that she found utterly amazing. She wouldn’t have it--or him--any other way.

“How ‘bout we wait on this one, Jan,” Keith said, lightly tugging on her hair. “I need to be buried inside your pussy.”

“Oh god, please!” It was a Pavlovian reaction to be sure, but her entire body came alive at those words, her pussy moistening, her nipples tightening.  Sucking his cock was amazing in and of itself, but when he combined that with the promise of a deep, hard fuck while her mouth was on him, that was all sorts of incredible.

“Then maybe later I can fuck your breasts and you can swallow.”

“I always swallow,” she told him with a wink. She loved it when he fucked her breasts, her generous tits holding him secure, his pre-cum lubricating his way. And when he got close and looked down at her, the electricity in his eyes was enough to make her come just from pleasing him.

Jan patted his cock gently and stood before leading him into the bedroom, her hand wrapped around his hot length. He loved this as much as she did, and his panting, ragged breaths tore through the hallway, and then their bedroom. She squeezed and pumped him a few times, assuring them both that he would be kept on the edge as long as possible. While slow, lazy fucks had their place, she enjoyed the faster, harder ones the most, when he slammed himself inside her and owned her every reaction. Their give and take of power was so seamless, so perfect.

So beautiful.

Jan pulled off her tee shirt and shorts, spreading herself wide on the bed. His cock bobbed as Keith yanked his jeans and shoes off, then pulled his shirt off quickly, then stood in front of her, regarding her . They were at their best in these moments, completely attuned. It was as if they’d been lovers forever, rather than this short time.

“Fuck me please, Keith. I need you.”

She had an overwhelming physical ache for him to shove his way inside her, to fuck her as she wanted to be fucked. Nobody else could compare to him, the sensations and emotions he aroused in her.

When Keith slid home, Jan cried out, her pussy walls clenching down on him. At first, she’d worried that this reaction was too painful for him, but he’d repeatedly assured her that it was okay, that he liked it as much as she did. That they were whole together and the fact that she wanted to hold him inside was a beautiful thing.

Keith started rocking, using just the right amount of forceful jabs and deep long drawn out strokes, to relentlessly careen her toward the edge. She nipped at his throat, eyes drifting over the pattern of small bruises there. She really should stop marking him, but she couldn’t resist.

“Jan, please!”

And it didn’t hurt that his neck was as sensitive as his cock.

Jan shifted, arching her back and then wrapping her legs around him so that they moved as one. They were complete. Jan didn’t need anything more than this.

“Come with me, Jan!” Keith cried out, his body shaking under her. This big, strong man was reduced to putty in her hands, while she controlled and demanded his reactions.

It was a beautiful thing and Jan didn’t need anything more.

Okay, maybe she did need just a little more. More sex, more love
.
More Keith.

The love of her life.

THE END

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Scroll down to read a FREE FULL-STORY BONUS of another Taboo Romance by Ava May…

Bonus Taboo Romance

Sweet Sins with
My Dad’s Best Friend

Ava May

Sweet Sins with My Dad’s Best Friend

Chapter 1

Sara wished she could join Daisy, her dad's beagle, under the bed. She'd have a hard time sliding her plus-size body into the space, but the thought greatly appealed. Though not quite as afraid of thunderstorms as Daisy, the loud crashes of thunder and bright bolts of lightning set her heart racing. There was absolutely no reason to be afraid, she knew. Her father's huge house was solid as a fortress. Nothing could penetrate the stone walls and metal roof. Not wind, rain, or lightning.

What
could
happen, however, was the power could go out. And of course, it did. One enormous crack of Mother Nature's fireworks made the hair on her arms stand up, turned off the lights and shut down Sara's laptop. She'd run the battery out on the plane trip to Clayton, so now it was totally gone. Thankful she at least had the machine plugged into a sturdy surge protector, Sara rose from the kitchen table. She'd also taken the precaution to pull out a flashlight, thank the lord, and quickly flicked it on. Where would her dad, or rather his housekeepers, store more lights, or candles? Did this ginormous kitchen have a junk drawer? Doubtfully. Her dad's house, or Doug's Palace, as she called it, was kept immaculately clean. Everything stayed in its place.

The electric would come back on any second. Sara wandered around the kitchen, not wanting to go far with just her thin beam of light. When she visited Doug, she didn't move around his house much. She mostly stayed in the guest room he kept for her, working on her writing.

Which seemed to suit them both. Why he even asked her to visit, she didn't know. Guilt, probably, for being such an absent father when she was growing up. Now that she was in her twenties, he had this sudden desire to reconnect, apparently.

Not her. Sara was fine living with her roommates, working as an admin assistant, reading and writing romance novels. She had no interest in getting to know her father, or spending time with any man. After her longtime boyfriend Kyle dragged her heart through the mud, men were on her list of things-not-to-do-ever-again. Fictional boyfriends worked just fine.

Okay, electric not coming on. Her eyes adjusted a little and the faint glow from an outdoor light broke up the darkness somewhat. Sara grabbed her phone and called her bestie.

"Lucy, talk to me. The lights went out and nobody's home."

Lucy giggled. "I've been saying that about you for a long time."

"No, that's not how the saying goes. It's…never mind. How are things in Maplewood?"

"Wonderful. Brad is taking me shopping for furniture this weekend. He hates shopping but I told him if he didn't give me his opinion, I'd buy whatever I want. That scared the crap out of him."

"No doubt."

"How's things going in Clayton? You guys having some heart-to-heart chats?"

Sara rolled her eyes. Her friend knew exactly how she felt about this long weekend. "No. I got here, Doug had lunch with me and could barely tear himself away from his phone. Then he had a Skype meeting while I wandered around the grounds."

"Grounds. Wow. Is that place as big as you remember?"

"Bigger. I think he bought the property next door. Apparently his girlfriend de jour likes to garden. It's pretty cool, actually. So after my self-guided tour outside, I came in, watched some TV, had an awkward dinner with good old Dad, and then went to bed. When I got up today, the housekeeper told me he'd been called away on business. So here I sit."

"Sounds like a blast. Hey, you're doing this visit to make your mom happy, right?"

"Yeah. She has this idea that Doug and I need to reconnect. But it's pretty miserable. You'd think me and my dad could find more to talk about together, but we just sit and discuss the weather. It's downright painful."

Silence for a beat, which usually meant Lucy was about to say something Sara didn't want to hear.

"You know, you might still be kind of upset about Kyle."

"Of course I am! That selfish asswipe postponed our wedding for a golf tournament. Golf!"

"I know, that sucked pretty bad, but that was two years ago."

"And the worst thing, he said he forgot the date. Forgot. How self-absorbed can you be?"

Sara's stomach twisted as she remembered that conversation. On the phone. The bastard hadn't even had the decency to break her heart, face-to-face. How Kyle had tried to make it sound like her fault for scheduling the event on
his
important day, even though she'd planned the wedding a year out, long before he mentioned a tournament.

How her mom had reminded her, she was lucky to have such a good-looking fiancé, and she should just contact her guests and all the people she'd hired and let them know the date had to be changed. People postponed weddings all the time.

As with every conversation she had with her mother, the unspoken words hurt the most.
He's attractive, you're not. Take what you can get and be happy.

Just because she had a large frame and a few extra pounds on her bones, she was considered undesirable by the snooty, rich group of people her family hung out with. When Kyle showed an interest, her mother all but offered him a huge dowry to marry her. He didn't want her money, he always insisted. He loved her personality. More like, he loved that he could boss her around and that she always let him have his way, always tried to please him.

Until that phone call.

She'd contacted her wedding guests, all right. Told them the event was off. Forever. Lost a few hundred dollars on non-refundable deposits, but it had been worth it to get rid of Kyle.

"You need to move on, get out there in the world, meet some new men. They're not all bad."

"I have to disagree."

"Brad is a good guy."

"So you got the last one."

"No, there are more. You're not going to find them sitting behind your keyboard, though."

"You never know about that. If there's a guy out there, for me, he'll have to magically appear. I'm not going out looking."

Not going to get her heart broken again. Once in a lifetime was plenty. 

"Tell me what kind of furniture you're going to buy."

Sara sat in a chair, put the flashlight on the table, propped her legs up on another chair and prepared to be entertained for at least a half-hour. Her friend could talk non-stop about her favorite subject, shopping. A pang of envy poked her heart but she pushed it away. Lucy and Brad were madly in love and getting married in a year. They were closing on a house, planning their honeymoon, and talking about babies. Exactly what Sara had envisioned doing at this point in life, but wasn't. Not even close.

Ten minutes into the virtual shopping trip, Sara's heart finally quit racing. She laughed with her friend about how Brad almost broke a bed by belly-flopping into it. Just as she gathered the courage to brave the dark and head upstairs to her room, the piercing chime of the doorbell made her sit up with a start, toppling over the footstool chair.

"Lucy!" Sara interrupted a dialogue about wood versus faux wood blinds. "The doorbell just rang."

"So go answer it."

"No one is supposed to be here tonight."

"Well look out the peephole and see who it is. Maybe it's a lost traveler."

"We're in the middle of the woods, one three acres, at the end of the road. Lost travelers don't come this way."

"Are you hyperventilating? Hey, you're really freaked out, aren't you?"

"It's still storming and the lights aren't on yet. Shit!" Sara cursed as the doorbell sounded again, the noise echoing through the empty house like a bell in a tomb.

"Call the cops. Now. Hang up and do it."

"Okay, I will. Bye."

"Call me back when they get there."

"I will."

"Be careful."

"I will! Bye." Sara disconnected, then punched in 911, but stopped before she hit the dial button.

What would she say? An unknown person was ringing her doorbell and she was afraid to see who it was? They'd hang up on her. She had to at least look out the peephole. She didn't have to open the door. Pointing her phone and the flashlight, she crept from the kitchen, through the vast living room to the foyer. Had the house suddenly expanded? It took forever, picking her way carefully past the heavy furniture. But she didn't want that doorbell to ring again, so she hurried.

Finally at the door, she put her eye up to the peephole. A man stood on the front porch, sheltered by the overhang, but still dripping wet. As she watched, he raised his fist and banged on the door. Sara jumped back.

"Hello," he called. "Anyone home?"

What in the world would a man be doing, at nine o'clock at night, standing on her father's front porch? Wait, her father had installed an intercom system. Maybe she could find it and figure it out. She shone her flashlight on the wall, trying to locate the box.

"Hey, who's in there? I see a light. Doug, let me in, damn it. I'm soaked." He pounded the door again.

Crap, he saw her. And he knew her father's name. And, he might possibly stand there beating the door until she opened it. Maybe he could hear her through the solid oak.

"Who are you?" she yelled.

"I'm Mathew. Mathew Stephens. I'm here to see Doug. We're going over some work tonight." He held up a briefcase. "Do you speak English?"

Did she what? Oh, he probably thought she was one of the housekeepers. Her dad employed several Hispanic people.

"Yes. I'm Sara. Doug's daughter."

The man cocked his head. "His daughter? I thought you lived out of state."

"I do. I'm visiting.

"Sara, can I come in? It's cold and I'm drenched."

Probably he told the truth. No one would really knock on the front door if they planned to rob a house, right?

Wait. She'd call her dad, see if this guy was legit. "Just a second. I'm calling Doug."

The phone went right to voicemail so she checked the texts. There, one must have come in while she talked to Lucy.

Plane delayed. Just now boarding. Home later.

Coming from the west coast, he wouldn't arrive for another two hours. Sara chewed her fingernail, peering out the peephole again. The guy really looked miserable, stomping his feet and trying to shake off the water. 

"Can I see your ID?"

Well, that was silly. He could show her any old identification and she'd never know, as long as he was smart enough to remember an alias. Mathew pulled out his wallet and held up his driver's license. She could barely read it, but it appeared the first name on the card was Mathew.

"How do you know Doug?"

"We're best friends. We met years ago. I've been overseas for a long time, just got back in March. Doug and I are working on a real estate investment project together."

Oh great. Another rich, self-centered guy. Just who she wanted to talk to. But she couldn't leave the dude on the porch for hours. She peered around him. Not much scope from the peephole. Probably why her dad installed security cameras, and maybe they were on a back-up generator and she could view the footage. Was there a generator? She couldn't imagine her father not having one. Something she'd have to investigate for future visits. But not now.

"Where's your car? How did you get here?"

"It's down the road." He pointed. "Got a flat tire. They don't make rental cars like they used to. Can I please come in? I promise I'm who I say I am, and I'm not up to any harm."

Sara tapped her finger on her chin, a gesture that always helped her think.

"Tell me something about Doug that only a friend would know."

Teeth chattering, Mathew stepped closer to the peephole. "He used to sing Rolling Stone's songs to his daughter to get her to sleep. It's really cold out here."

Sara unlocked the door and Mathew hurried in.

"He told you that? About singing to me?"

"Sure did. I was trying to get some kids to sleep one night and he suggested the Stones. Something about the rhythm of the music. Hello, I'm Mathew." He held out a soggy hand.

She took it gingerly. "Sara. Sorry about keeping you outside. I didn't know Dad was expecting you."

"I'm early. And I guess he's late."

"I just got a text. He got held up in San Diego but he's on the plane now. He'll be here in a couple of hours. Oh, sorry again. I don't mean to be so rude. You're sopping wet, aren't you?" She shown the light up and down him.

"Electric out or are you just creating an atmosphere?"

Sara grinned. Funny guy, even as miserable as he must be, standing there wet as a fish.

"I think you're bigger than my dad but I can probably find you some sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt."

"That would be great. Any chance I could take a hot shower? And if there's any dry wood, we should get a fire going in that cave Doug calls a fireplace."

"Yeah, it's kind of a huge cavern, isn't it? There's wood stacked over there. Probably some kindling and I hope matches. Let me go find you clothes. I guess you can use the guest bathroom in the Blue Room. That's…"