Love M.D. (27 page)

“Oui mon chéri,” he responds,
kissing me softly on my shoulder. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed
being with you like this?’”

“I’ve missed you, too. What color
should I use next?”

“Red,” he whispers against my neck.
He slowly lifts my dress over my ass, and I feel his hands on either side of my
hips, pulling my panties down my thighs.

“Are the doors downstairs closed?”
I partially turn my body and kiss his lips.

“No. But if you’re quiet and just
focus on painting that canvas in front of you there won’t be any need for
concern.”

Under my dress, his hands inch up
my thighs. He kisses my neck and cups my breasts. As his front moves past my
ass, I feel his erection through his jeans. I reach behind to release the
button of his jeans but he places my hand on the table.

“You’re supposed to be painting.”

“You’re supposed to be helping,” I
respond, moving my ass past his erection.

He reaches out in front of me, dips
the brush in each color and splashes it across the canvas.

“I’ve done my share,” he murmurs,
kissing me. “No more distractions.”

I laugh at his response. He lifts
my dress over my head and raises my thigh on top of the painting.

“You’re ruining our masterpiece.”

“I’m adding character,” he
immediately responds. With one hand, he slowly begins to circle my front and
the other he penetrates me from behind while kissing me and running his tongue
around my neck.

I try to focus on the piece of
artwork before me, but I soon give up as the pleasure starts circulating around
my body. I brace myself, palms down on the painting before me.

I turn my head, and he captivates
my lips. The rest of my body follows. I face him. I run my hands over his chest
then down to the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head.

Smudges of red, purple, blue and
white paint cover his abdomen, but he seems completely unperturbed by this. As
he kisses my lips, I release the button to his jeans and undo his zipper. They
drop to the floor. I am pleasantly surprised when I realize he’s not wearing
any underwear and his hard penis aims directly at me.

“You had this all worked out in
your head, I see.” I say, holding and massaging his firm arousal.

“Well yes, but I didn’t see it
happening exactly like this. In my mind, you’d be waiting in my bed.”

“I did, but then you took too long
to come…”

I glide my hand over him then
tiptoe to reach his lips. He switches places with me, so he is now partially
sitting on the desk and he pulls me between his thighs. Tying my hands around
his neck, I taste his lips. Then I straddle him while we kiss.

 He wraps his arms around me as I
glide my center over his arousal. He lovingly nibbles my lips. I love the feel
of his head running past my clit, and as I continuously move over him, the
warmth and slipperiness between us increases. I place my body higher over his,
leaving him with no choice but to lie back onto the painting.

He is not inside me, but as I span
his body and ride his length, I become more aroused every time I feel his warm
head rub past me. His groans intensify. I move harder and harder over him and things
start moving on the desk. Two open cans hit the floor and explode with a blast.
Red and yellow paint splashes everywhere.

Morgan sits up and surrounds me in
his arms. I lower my feet to the floor while I continue to captivate his lips
and caress his muscular, sweaty frame. I trail kisses around his neck and chest
and work my way down to his abdomen. The closer I get to his center his
breathing deepens until I introduce him to my lips. Tasting him. Pleasuring
him. Sucking him. I capture him all the way down my throat.

He sinks his hands into my hair and
inches his hips into me as I continuously take him within me. The strength of
his groans get increasingly louder at every exit and entry into my mouth.

“Oh fuck, Zoë…what are you doing to
me?”

Ignoring his question, I
continually tease him with my lips, and his grip tightens on my shoulder. The
hot, sultry sounds of our sexual indulgence fill the room, and while I glide
one hand over him and tease him between my lips, I spread my legs apart and
begin a gratifying caress over my clit.

He stills, sinking his fingers into
my flesh, and I know he came close to his release.

He bends over, cups my face in his
hands, and takes over my mouth. He kneels on the floor in front me and leans
forward. My back is against a canvas on the floor; and as his weight comes
above me, he slips one of my legs aside. We kiss and his lips trail down my
body. He fondles my breasts, entwines his fingers through mine, and begins a
slow and steady assault on my clit.

I urge my hips into him as he uses
his tongue to do a rhythmic dance inside me. The intense pleasure begins to
build.

“Morgan…” His name leaves my lips,
and he responds, knowing what I need, what I desire.

He turns me over, so I now lay on
my stomach. He kisses my lips and neck. Goose bumps cover my body as he runs
his tongue all the way down my back and ass. With his knee, he nudges one of my
legs aside and slowly submerges himself inside my slippery depths.

I tilt my ass to him, enabling me
to feel every inch of him inside me. He straddles my thighs, circles his arms
around my upper frame, and pins me in place as he repeatedly plunges in and out
of me. The pleasure is beyond amazing. Our synchronized moaning permeates
through the room. Mounting pressure rises inside me. Morgan tightens his grip
around me, kisses me on my neck, and I turn my head to get a taste of his lips.
He pulls away from me and flips me over so I am on my back.

His hazel eyes connect with mine,
he clears away my hair from my face and kisses my lips. He lowers himself, and
I feel him reaching deep inside me. As he moves within me, I plaster my fingers
onto his firm, bare ass and move my hips to meet his.

“Yes babe, yes oh God yes, don’t
stop.”

He clasps his fingers through mine
and moves harder and faster inside me. He lowers his mouth over mine and gently
kisses my lips. The orgasmic pleasure radiates from my core and disperses
through the rest of me. His grip on my hands tightens and as he spasms
repeatedly into release, my name leaves his lips.

Slowly, his hold on me loosens. He
is still tenderly moving inside me. He gazes deeply into my eyes and once more,
he captures my lips. Then he rolls over, and I lay in his arms.

His shoulders are covered with blue
paint; his stomach has red, white, green and blue fingerprints all over it. I glance
at the canvas where I once lay. Some of the paint that was on our bodies has
settled in a new place in a kaleidoscope of bright color.

“That’s quite a mess you made,
Doctor Drake,” I pant.

He leans over and kisses my cheek. “Worthy
to hang next to my finest Pollock.”

I wake later
that evening. Watching Zoë as she sleeps
in my arms, I think about the problems we face. I need to figure out a way to
find out what’s going on with Robin without alerting her or tipping her off. I
would have put my hands in fire for her before Zoë’s revelation, but now I’m
not so sure.

In retrospect, so many things don’t
add up—the sudden conferences, the unusual absences from family events. And my
sweet, supposedly innocent sister lied to me. When I asked her about Uncle
Tony, she said he was doing great. She even went into some crap story about
bringing him cookies. I know I’ve been busy and preoccupied, but did she not
think I’d find out?

I carefully slip out of bed. After
throwing on some clothing, I leave for the clinic. I need to see if there is
anything that might help me sort this out at her office. I have access to my
schedule from anywhere but not Robin’s. Maybe I can get to it on her computer.

Never in a million years would I
ever think Robin could be involved in this. I don’t feel great about having to
snoop through things, but it’s the best way to do this without alerting her.

When I pull up to the clinic, I am
surprised to see a lone black Mercedes Benz in the parking lot. I don’t
recognize the car. These days, I’m suspicious of everything and everyone. With
my phone, I take a picture of the license plate. I am aware that there could be
any number of logical explanations for that car being here, but I’d rather not
take my chances.

I park directly in front of the
building’s entrance and cautiously enter. Inside, everything seems undisturbed.
I easily pull up her calendar from the time I moved back here, print her
schedule, and head for her office.

Inside, she has three filing
cabinets lined up against one wall. I spend the next two hours perusing them
but find nothing. Almost everything is patient related. I’m suspicious that
with all her travelling over the last few months, I didn’t find one piece of
documentation related to her travels. I realize that for now, I’ve probably
explored all my options. I return to my car.

Outside, the black car is still
there and mine seems fine. When I turn my back to lock the door, I hear a car
door slam. As I look, the ignition kicks in and the black car speeds away.

I get into my car, immediately text
Lucas the picture to see what he can find out, and head home. I’ll continue
with my inquiries there.

In the last
three months, Robin attended eight
conferences. I remember her telling me she was the guest speaker at three of
them, but as I peruse through the conference websites, there is no mention of
her name anywhere.

I had hoped that there would be
some logical explanation to all of this, and Zoë and I could move on and not be
burdened by this issue, but the more I dig, the more questions I have.

My phone rings, snapping me out of
my deep thoughts. Glancing at the screen, I see it’s
her
.

“Hey, sis.”

“Hi. How’s Dad?”

“He’s better. I spent the afternoon
with him, and I’ll bring him home with me tomorrow.”

“Great.”

“He was disappointed about missing
the trip. He was looking forward to spending some time with you.”

“I know. I am, too.”

“Maybe when you get back, we can go
on a trip somewhere together? All of us, as a family. I’m beginning to realize
how lonely he is.”

“We can try. But my schedule is
packed. I have a few conferences before Christmas. I think I have to go to
Miami.”

I look at the sheet of paper before
me and see it on the schedule.

“Why don’t we come with you? Maybe
extend the trip for a few days? We could spent time with the kids while you’re
at the conference and be together at night. It’ll be just like when we met in
Jamaica two years ago. We had a great time then.”

“I don’t know, Morgan. I’ll think
about it. Christmas is coming. We’ll get to spend time together then.”

“I suppose. I just don’t want Dad
to get too down and lonely. Think about it.”

“I will. Did Zoë get to Cabo okay?”

“No. After she found out about Dad,
she didn’t go. Why?”

“Just checking. Anyway, I have to
go.”

“Sure. Say hello to everyone.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too, sis.”

I end the call. In the past, Robin
would jump at the chance to mix a little business with pleasure, but now, not
so much.

Moments after Robin’s call, the
doorbell rings. I look through the glass front door to see Lucas.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask.

“Just wanted to let you know that
Mercedes Benz was registered to the woman who owns the restaurant next to the
clinic. It looks like they were hosting a big party tonight. She left for a
while and when she returned her spot was taken so she parked in the clinic’s
lot.”

“Thanks Lucas. I’d as how you found
that out but right now I’m too exhausted.”

“Have a good night, Dr. Drake,” he
says and walks away.

That’s a relief. I need to clear my
head, at least a little. I peel away my clothing and dive into the pool. The
November chill is in the air, but the heated water creates steam that hovers
above the surface and through the night’s lights. A few laps should relax me
before I head to bed.

The next morning,
Zoë and I head to the hospital to
pick up Dad and to a café near the house for brunch. Sam’s is a busy open deck
space with a marina in the foreground, and the fantastic San Francisco skyline
views create the backdrop. It’s the type of place that everyone goes for brunch
on a Sunday.

 I don’t think anyone will be crazy
enough to try to come after Zoë in my presence and in such a public place. That
said, once Zoë leaves the house with me, I make sure I’m armed. I’m not even
sure if she’s aware that I own a weapon. It’s possible that she could have seen
it when she packed all my stuff in the walk in closet, but I don’t know with
any certainty.