Page 35 of Stirred Up

“You want it all, don’t you?”

Without breaking stride or suction, I grip down harder on his tightening sac and press my tongue as hard as I can against the bulging vein running down his cock. I know I have him when he holds my head forcefully still and surges his hips forward, thrusting in maddening jerks.

“Fuck yes! Ah, Addison, love your fucking mouth, baby,” he garbles, flooding my mouth with his warm, salty load.

I drag off him leisurely, sucking off every last drop, then sit back on my heels while he recovers. He fixes his pants and belt, his softened, relaxed expression focused on my face as he does so, then he bends and scoops me up to stand nuzzled against his chest.

“One date,” he whispers against my forehead.

I shake my head and stretch back, offering a flirty twist of my swollen lips to soften the blow. “Only here.” I press my lips to his once, stepping back before he can pull me in for more. “Your secretary knows where to find me.”

Fully aware he’s watching, I sashay with as much saucy sex appeal as I possess outthe door.

Chapter 13

“Miss Porter?”

“Yes?” I try desperately to hide the snicker in my reply. Honestly, what must they be thinking? I go from never gracing their office in my life to racking up frequent fellatio miles in a blink. Since the appointment where I dropped to my knees, I’ve been back twice more in the last week.

The good doctor seems to love the taste of my pussy just as much as I love the feel of his fingers inside me and the throb of his smooth, hard dick on my tongue.

“I’m sorry,”don’t be, “but Dr. Reynolds needs you to come in again as soon as possible. Is there any way you’re free this afternoon?”

Acting inconvenienced, which I’ve almost mastered, Isigh in her ear. “I suppose I can use my lunch break, if that’ll work?”

“Wonderful. I’ll make room. We’ll see you then.”

I hang up with a smug smile dancing over my lips, knowing I’m ready for him. Almost habit, I now take special care getting ready for work each morning, the mystery of when a call might come an exhilarating game I love to play.

The office visits are unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, sublime in every way except one—I haven’t felt that hard shaft of his inside me where I want it most. There’s never enough time, or so he uses as his excuse, anyway. Always foreplay, ending in mind-blowing orgasms, followed by his request for a real date, which I continue to reject, and then he’s out the door.

Surprisingly, this game of cat and mouse keeps me so occupied that it’s only spare, passing moments, such as now, that I miss Brady and Dylan, our familiar camaraderie still all but vanished. The three of us haven’t hung out in ages, mostly because of Dylan’s new job, but when he cancelled on the past Tiko night, Brady and I both easily accepted, not wanting to see each other, I suppose.

That’s not entirely true; I’d like to spend time with Brady, but only if it’s like before. All I can do is chuckle facetiously at the repeating ironic thought—protecting the friendship has vanquished it.

Luckily, I’m forced to abandon such melancholy thoughts and plaster on a smile for the rambunctious Jack Russell and its frazzled owner that walk through the door of the clinic. After checking them in, I show them back to a room and take basic preliminary information before stepping out, a glance at the clock on the wall confirming it’s time to head out for lunch.

Driving to my “appointment,” my tummy’s a tingle, nervous anticipation coursing through my limbs as I conjure up what scenarios might play out today.

Growing more daring with each visit, I’m currently dressed in baggy scrubs. Under them is a pleated light pink skirt that stops just below my ass cheeks and a short white halter top. The second the nurse shuts the door, I’ll shed the deceptive outer layer and wait impatiently, dressed like the minx I feel.

Fifteen minutes later and I’m doing exactly that, wetting my lips and pulling the band out of my hair, lettingmy soft mane fan out, then daintily crossing my legs. Dr. Reynolds walks in, sans knock, his eyes immediately aflame as he takes me in. His tongue darts out, creeping along a full bottom lip as he shoves a chair up under the door knob—much sexier in my dreams, when there’s a lock.

“You look…” he drops his gawk from me to the floor, followed by a subtle shake of his head. Regrouping perhaps, he raises his attention back up and inches closer, his face tight. “I wanted you to join me for lunch,” he declares. His voice is strong, final, his eyes on mine despite my attempt to offer up my breasts in coercion.

“Here I am,” I purr, snaring him by the belt loops, pulling him between my legs.

“I see that.” It’s a low growl as his predatory regard finally runs the length of me again. “But I want anactuallunch.” He gestures his head to the side and it’s only now that I notice a plastic bag, obviously holding take-out, on the counter. Funny how it completely escaped my wanton attention, smell and all.

“You won’t go out for a meal with me, so I brought it in. Thought we could make some semblance of dating conversation over a meal.”

Seriously, years of nothing and I finally release my inner sex kitten only to be brow-beaten with courtship? Women would kill to be in my shoes, and all I want is to be out of them… and my panties.

“Don’t.” I loosen his necktie, moving straight to the buttons of his dress shirt. “Things are perfect the way they are. Can’t we just have fun and enjoy it?” Leaning into him, I brace both hands on his chest and nibble my way across his jaw to that tempting bottom lip.

His thoughtful expression down at me gives nothing away, but his gears are cranking.

“Tick tock, doc,” I tease, “you have patients waiting.”

---