Page 26 of Dr Feel Good
My other hand joined the fray, fondling my balls as I jerked off. My hips thrusted into my hand, and my thighs shook at the sensation of my nut massage.
“You’re doing so well, Athena,” I growled, getting lost in my daydream.
Pressure built in my core, and I gasped, shooting my load, my seed creating a mess that was quickly washed down the drain by the shower stream.
I gasped as the aftershocks of my orgasm wore off and was left wishing that my fantasy would become a reality, sooner rather than later.
I really had to stop going to the bathroom when Felix was in it. My bladder again woke me up, but this time, the sound of the running shower clued me in that he occupied the room. Yet, the running water didn’t mask the sound of his pleasure, or his dirty talk. I was helpless to do anything but listen to him, and heat shot through me when he moaned my name. My pussy ached. It’d been so long since I fucked. My dry spell was the reason for my intense attraction to the doctor.
Thankfully, I was healing faster than expected, since those bitches wanted to make me suffer before they killed me. It wasn’t my first time being shot. Twice before, I’d fallen victim to a bullet. The first resulted in the loss of my baby.
Another small caliber bullet that hit me in the ass but slowed me down enough to where I was shoved, kicked, and punched, beaten terribly. Once again, Bloody Femme cunts were responsible.
Fendi and the girls brought me back to the clubhouse. The doctor who visited me ignored me when I told him I was five months pregnant and cramping. When I began to miscarry, he responded with, “Oh, so you told the truth.”
Well before then, my trust in doctors was shaky. They were rude, impatient, and just motherfuckers. But then I’d gotten shot a second time and had to go to a hospital for emergency surgery. The bullet couldn’t be dug out by a quack on the take from us.
I always figured the third time would end in my death. According to the old saying, the third time is the charm, yada, yada, yada. Instead, my recovery was the easiest yet.
Still, the wounds ached like a motherfucker, and once Felix was done jerking off, I retreated into the bedroom to sit back down. When he entered the room in nothing but a towel, his chiseled body and damp, tousled hair making him look like a wet dream come to life, I silently headed to the bathroom to piss, the sound of his sexy moans echoing in my ears.
It made getting through breakfast a challenge. I was unable to meet his eyes as I ate, and he didn’t try to spark a conversation. The only sound was the wind howling outside, and our utensils scraping against the plate.
“Is the food seasoned to your liking?” he asked when I was halfway done.
I nodded. “Pretty hard to fuck up toast and bacon.”
“And the eggs?”
“Salt and pepper are enough for a sunny side up.”
“Hmmm,” he hummed, smirking.
God, but I wanted to kiss him. I wished he’d assert his authority over me as he had in the bathroom yesterday, and as he had in bed last night.
I shook my head, trying to banish my thoughts as I took a big swig of coffee. I was just horny and needed to take a cuefrom him and rub one off. That would allow me to be more level-headed and let me think of a game plan for when the snowstorm died down. Going back to Kansas City was inevitable, and I doubted the Bloody Femmes were lurking in the area. They’d taken out Fendi, didn’t know I had lived, and ran off with the suitcase. No, the bigger threat was what awaited me back in the city. Razor wanted me dead. Until I took him out, I wasn’t safe, nor would my sisters be.
“A twenty for your thoughts?” Felix asked, drawing my attention back to him.
I cocked a brow. “Isn’t it a penny?”
“A penny can’t get you anything nowadays, sweetheart, so I’m just adjusting for inflation.”
I laughed, though my humor quickly fled. There was no joy at what faced me, and I feared what I’d discover once I returned to civilization.
“I’m afraid a twenty still isn’t enough,” I said quietly.
Dumbass that I was, his scoff shouldn’t have jarred me, but it did. I narrowed my eyes, pushing my plate away as my appetite fled.
“What the fuck is that for?” I demanded.
“I’m not allowed to make sounds in my own fucking cabin?”
“You can do whatever the hell you want, but I will react how I please.”
He returned my glare. “You’re cheeky as hell, you know that? And secretive and bossy to boot.”
I recoiled. If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black!
