Drawn Deeper (19 page)

Meredith

My dad seemed different on the drive back to the dealership from the hospital later that afternoon. He was quiet.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“I’m good, yeah. I was just thinking . . . Did I ever tell you how much I appreciated you coming to work for me?”

I snuck a glance at him. Something was definitely up. “No. But you don’t need to. We’re family, Dad. I like working for you.”

“Not as much as you would have liked teaching.”

I shrugged. “Who knows? I’m happy with my job, though, so please don’t worry about it.”

“I’ve taken you for granted. You’re a good daughter, Merry. And I may have overreacted about Kyle before.”

“I know you’d like him if you got to know him.”

“I’d like to do that.”

I smiled at him. “Really?”

“How about a cookout at my place this weekend? We can make one of those fish recipes they gave me at the hospital with my diet plan.”

My eyes warmed with a rush of tears, but I forced them back. “I’d love that, Dad.”

I pulled into the parking lot, and when we were both out of my Jeep, he hugged me.

“You go home and get some rest,” he said. “And I want you to take tomorrow off.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Go do something for yourself. And let me know when you want to have that cookout.”

He went into the dealership, and I got back in my Jeep. I did feel exhausted. Kyle had told me he was having Stephanie stay with the boys until he got home from work, so I drove home.

I considered painting a bookshelf I’d been wanting to get to for months, but I decided on guilty pleasures instead. I ate ice cream for dinner and binge-watched Netflix until I fell asleep on the couch.

When the sound of an incoming text woke me up, it was dark other than the glow of the TV screen. There was a spoon on my chest and an empty ice cream container on the floor.

I had to squint to make out the message on my phone.

Kyle: Just checking on you.

Me: I’m good. Just being lazy.

Kyle: Glad to hear it. And hey . . . I need a favor.

Me: What?

Kyle: Tell me one of your fantasies. Something doable, so not a gangbang or anything . . .

I laughed out loud at that.

Me: Don’t worry, a gangbang isn’t a fantasy of mine.

Kyle: Really fucking glad to hear that.

Me: This is easy. You in scrubs. Playing doctor with me.

Kyle: Role play, huh?

Me: You look really hot in scrubs, Dr. Lockhart.

Kyle: Okay, done.

Me: Done?

Kyle: Tomorrow night at my place. My parents are taking the kids to St. Louis for the night, and they’re leaving at 3. Can you be here at 6?

Me: Yes. What should I bring?

Kyle: Just you.

Me: Okay. See you then.

Kyle: Looking forward to it.

I went back to sleep on the couch, not even bothering to take the spoon off my chest, and slept until seven the next morning. After I got up, I went for a run, showered, and went to the nail salon for a mani/pedi. Then I got a blowout at the hair salon and went shopping for sexy shoes and lingerie.

It was early afternoon when I finished, and I had to force myself not to go into work. Instead, I took a wreath of fresh flowers to my mother’s grave and sat there for a while. She would have liked Kyle and been happy for me. It was nice just to sit near her marker and think about that.

After that, I read for a few hours, only looking at the clock every ten minutes or so. I was dying to go to Kyle’s.

At 5:40, I couldn’t wait any longer. I picked up the overnight bag I’d packed, set it in the back of my Jeep, and headed for his place.

I’d spent so many years feeling like I didn’t deserve a man like Kyle that this still felt a little surreal to me. But with every day that passed, it sank in that this was really happening.

My heart felt fluttery as I waited on his doorstep. Not just over my fantasy, but over having a tall, dark, and sexy man who wanted to make my fantasy a reality.

Kyle opened the door, and his easy smile spread across his face. “Hey. Get in here.”

I walked inside, figuring I’d at least get a kiss, but nothing. Instead, he led the way into the kitchen.

“I’m ready for you,” he said.

“I see.” I took in his light blue surgical scrubs, biting my lower lip with excitement.

He glanced down at his scrubs and then back up at me. “I’ve got more in mind than just this, Miss Hobbs.”

A swirl of arousal formed low in my belly. “Oh, you do?”

“Oh, I do.” He approached me, and when we were just a few steps apart, he gave me a serious look. “The fantasy begins when we get to the bottom of the basement stairs, got it? It’s all doctor/patient from then on.”

I nodded and breathed out slowly, the sweet anticipation nearly killing me. “Have you ever had a doctor/patient fantasy?”

“No, but I’m very into doing this with you.”

“Me too,” I said, a hint of begging in my tone.

“Let’s wait ten more minutes.”

My eyes widened with disbelief and he laughed, then took my hand and led me to the basement stairs.

“You’re mean,” I murmured.

He turned to me when we were halfway down the stairs. “Before we get there, just so you don’t think I went overboard, I got this stuff when the hospital built its new clinic. So I already had it.”

“What stuff?”

He let go of my hand and walked to the bottom of the stairs. When I got there, I followed him through the huge, finished family room to a door of a room I’d never been in.

My heart was pounding now. When he opened the door and flipped the light switch on, I gasped with surprise.

There was a beige doctor’s exam table, the back inclined. It was covered with a fresh section of white paper, just as it would have been in a doctor’s office. And it even had . . . stirrups?

“Oh . . .” I smiled nervously at him. “Wow.”

He picked up a faded green cotton hospital gown and handed it to me, his expression all business.

“You’ll need to change into this. Everything off. Leave it open in the front.”

He left the room and closed the door behind him. I clutched the gown in my hand, wondering if this would be hot or just weird.

No turning back now. With a deep breath, I slipped out of the gray cotton dress and sexy black heels I’d worked so hard on picking out for tonight. Same with the white lacy bra and panties. I put the gown on and slid up onto the exam table, holding the gown’s two sides together in the front.

Kyle’s storage room was mostly packed boxes stacked a few high and some unused furniture. But sitting here in a gown on an exam table felt very much like actually being at a doctor’s office.

When the door handle turned, I sat up straight, my heart racing. Kyle now had a stethoscope around his neck.

“Miss Hobbs, I’m Dr. Lockhart. I’ll be doing your pelvic exam today. Let’s get your feet into those stirrups, please.”

Well,
hello
. I liked his authoritative doctor tone.

I put my heels on the cool metal, my eyes locked on his.

“Good,” he said. “Let’s start with a breast exam. Open your gown, please.”

I opened it, expecting to see his eyes widen, but he kept on his impassive, professional face.

He gently squeezed each breast, taking his time to feel every inch of them, and then he traced his fingertip around each nipple until they were hard.

“Perfect,” he murmured. “I’ll just listen to your heart now.”

He stood beside the table and put the end of his stethoscope against my chest. His other hand brushed across my thigh, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake.

He stepped back from the table. “All right, let’s get the exam underway.”

Even though it was Kyle, a thrill passed through me as he put his hands on my knees at the foot of the table.

“Keep your legs spread nice and wide for me, Miss Hobbs.”

“Okay,” I said, the word coming out strangled.

He pulled up a stool and sat down on it. Even though he wasn’t touching me, I was fully exposed to him, and it felt hot and forbidden.

“Are you sexually active, Miss Hobbs?”

I cleared my throat. “Yes.”

“How many partners?”

“Just one.”

“I see.” He ran his fingertip up and down the length of my slit, and I gasped.

“And tell me . . . what kinds of things do you do with your partner?”

“I . . . we . . .” He slipped a fingertip inside me, and I moaned. “We have sex. Really good sex.”

“I need you to be specific, Miss Hobbs. Where does he fuck you?”

Holy shit. The question, in his clinical doctor tone, made me clench my thighs together.

“Legs wide open for me,” he said.

“Yes. I . . . he fucks my pussy.”

“I see. And do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“What else?”

I swallowed hard, desire making me feel warm all over. “I gave him a blow job, but . . . I want him to fuck my mouth. I fantasize about it.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes. I want him to hold on to my hair and fuck my mouth.”

He slid his finger in farther. “You’re doing very well, Miss Hobbs.”

“Ohh.” I moved my hips to sink his finger in even farther.

“Do you let your partner fuck your ass?”

“Oh, God. I . . . haven’t, but I would.”

He slipped a second finger inside me. “Have you ever been fucked in the ass?”

“No.”

“You’re very wet, Miss Hobbs. Does talking about your partner always make you this wet?”

I leaned up on my elbows and looked at him. “Yes.”

He kept his eyes locked on mine as he pumped his fingers in and out of me, slowly and deeply.

“Leave the gown open all the way for me,” he said.

I peeled the sides of it apart until it hung from my arms. My back was arched into the air, and I was grinding my hips up and down on Kyle’s fingers, all inhibitions forgotten.

“Miss Hobbs, I think you’re enjoying this,” he said, a smile playing on his lips.

I just moaned, unable to form any words.

“You’re a very dirty patient, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Oh, my
God
. . . yes.”

“Does your partner ever suck on that gorgeous clit?”

I just panted, my legs on the verge of shaking, as he lowered his face and brushed his tongue across my clit.

It was beyond good. I felt it in every nerve ending—a deep, sensual promise of the pleasure to come.

With one more sweep of his tongue, I came hard. He sucked on my clit and worked his fingers in and out of me until I’d collapsed onto the table, breathless.

“You’ve been such a good patient, Miss Hobbs,” he said, standing up. “But look what you’ve done to me.”

He rubbed the erection that was straining against his pants. I scooted my ass down past the edge of the table, opening my knees as far as they would go.

“You’ve earned a reward for doing so well,” he said, untying his pants and pushing them down.

In an instant, he was buried completely inside me. He groaned hard and held on to my thighs, pumping himself in and out as I held on to the sides of the table.

The harder he fucked me, the better it felt. His strained expression of satisfaction made me feel like a goddess.

Once again, Kyle was topping every sexual experience I’d ever had. He grunted as he pounded into me, and within a couple minutes, I came again. When he slammed into me for the last time with a guttural groan, I smiled and pushed a lock of sweaty hair out of my face.

He exhaled deeply and looked down at me. “How was that?”

I laughed and sat up, kissing him. “That . . . was fucking incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I thought so, too. You want to go out for dinner now?”

I gave him a confused look. “Out?”

“Out. You and me.”

“In Lovely?”

“Yes. May the gossipmongers see our expressions of gratification and know that we just fucked.”

My emotions overflowed. I wouldn’t let myself cry. Not now. That would be embarrassing.

But I couldn’t help the one tear that escaped. Kyle was leaving his comfort zone for me. It felt as amazing as the sex had. Maybe even better.

Kyle

The next Friday night, I squinted at Mason through a cloud of cigar smoke.

“Are your nuts still in there? Is April letting you keep them until after the ceremony?”

“Funny, fucker,” he said, glaring. “And you’re one to talk.”

“I hear you.” I shook my head. “I do. And you know I love April.”

My brothers and I were sitting in the great room of the lodge I’d rented for Mason’s bachelor weekend. Dad was flying in tomorrow morning, and we were all going hunting. Which meant tonight, the five of us were alone. And more than a little drunk.

Justin passed me a fresh bottle of beer and sat down next to me on the leather sofa, putting his feet up by mine on the coffee table.

“Did I hear right?” he asked me. “You’re seeing Meredith Hobbs now?”

“Yep.”

He arched his brows and sipped his beer. “Seeing her, or . . .
seeing
her?”

“All of the above.”

Justin glanced at Reed, who was lighting a cigar.

“I’m fine with it,” he said after his first puff.