Читать книгу: «In Good Hands», страница 3

She arched her brow. “It’ll hurt.”

His grin widened, so she took the challenge. She jerked as hard as she could, but the fabric was stronger than she expected. As she was busy hauling on his shirt, he used her movement to spin her around and trap her backward against his chest. And worse, his shirt now held her captive whereas he had an arm free to stroke her.

If it were only his free hand caressing her shoulder, her breasts, her belly, she would have had less trouble resisting him. But then he did something no man had ever done to her before. His lips found the back of her neck. Not just the base of her skull but lower along her spine, as his chin pushed her blouse aside.

She felt his breath across her skin, the stroke of his lips as he teased her flesh, and then the slight scrape of teeth before the soothing circle of his tongue. On her neck and all the way down to between her shoulder blades. Her entire nervous system went limp with delight. God, never before had a man found that zone and used it to his advantage like that.

The wave was upon her before she even knew it was coming. She cried out in shock as she lost control of her body. Waves of pleasure rolled through her. They were sudden and wild and the best orgasm she’d had in years.

Thank God, he held her through it all, his arms firm, his stance solid. She might have collapsed onto the floor in an undignified, boneless heap otherwise. But he was a gentleman, supporting her as she writhed in his arms. And when she finally recovered, when she at last found enough strength to settle her feet beneath her, only then did she look up to his face. He’d won their bet, and so she expected to see a very male smirk. She didn’t. His expression was open in surprise. She might even have said he looked dazed.

She twisted, her legs still wobbly. But before she could ask her question, he swooped down to kiss her. It was a deep kiss, but it was also gentle, almost reverent.

“You’re amazing,” he said. “That was…amazing. I’ve never seen a woman look so hot when she comes.”

She didn’t know how to answer. After all, she was the one who’d just come without even stepping out of her thong. He was the one with the incredible mouth. And now, when she was obviously speechless with shock, his smile did shift to a cat-ate-the-canary grin. And then he slowly unwound her from his shirt.

“Name it,” he said when she was standing directly before him.

She blinked. “Name what?”

“The time and place for round two.”

5

ROGER DIDN’T TRY to hide his grin as Amber struggled to find her dignity. She needn’t bother. He thought her the sexiest thing alive just as she was. She had that cool exterior, but she’d come apart in his arms. Just from what he’d done to her neck. And didn’t that just make him feel like a major stud?

It didn’t even bother him that he had a boner the size of the Sears Tower. He was beyond happy—and that was the most bizarre thing given that they were still trapped in this damn elevator.

Meanwhile, Amber blinked at him, her eyes wide with shock. “I never…” she began. “I mean, it’s been a while, but never before…” She shook her head, put her hands to her red cheeks and groaned. “I don’t know what to say.”

She looked so vulnerable that he reached out a finger and stroked just below her left ear. It was all he could touch behind her hands. “You don’t have to say anything. It was great. Seriously.”

Her hands fell away, and she frowned at him. “Okay, so you are gay.”

He blinked, his vision of himself as a male stud disappearing by the second. “What?”

“To put it in Claire’s words, no man is that virtuous unless he’s gay.”

He laughed. He hadn’t meant to, but just the idea that they had been taking bets on his sexuality seemed funny to him. He was so not gay. And to prove it, he grabbed hold of her hand and pressed it hard against his length.

God, that felt good. She knew how to hold a man, even through his trousers. Right pressure, right stroke. His breath shuddered through him and his eyes practically rolled back in his head.

“Not gay,” he said. “Want me to prove it?”

“Yes,” she breathed, and his eyes snapped open. Her skin was still flushed, but there was definite hunger in her eyes. “God, yes,” she repeated when he just stared at her.

He didn’t stop this time. He didn’t hold himself back, and he sure as hell didn’t go easy on her. He had her pressed up against the wall in a second. Her blouse was still open, her bra swinging free, so he could have filled his hands with her breasts. He wanted to fill his hands with her breasts because she had great ones. But his hands were too busy dropping his trousers.

Thankfully, she was helping him, her hands shaking as much as his. And when his pants and boxers finally dropped to his ankles, they both released a moan of pleasure.

Her thong was in the way, and he started to peel it down. But she grabbed him by the ears—ouch!—and pulled him eye to eye.

“I ripped yours,” she said.

He grinned. “As you wish.” Then he grabbed both edges of the lacy elastic and pulled. She watched him do it, her eyes lit with joy.

“That is so hot!” she breathed. Then when he was going to go right back to her, she pressed a hand to his chest. “Condom.”

He bent down to his pants and pulled his wallet out, flipping it open to the appropriate pouch. But again she stopped him with a touch, this time on his wrist.

“How long has that been in there?”

He frowned a moment, thinking back. Erg. Much too long. Sure, he had dates with hot women, but it’d been over a year since he’d brought one home with him. “Better go with yours.”

She leaned down to get her purse, and he almost came right there. Even though she’d bent her knees in a rather demure pose considering she was naked in all the important parts, he could see the pink rounded curves of her bottom, and knew just how fabulous it would feel to flip her around and drill her from behind.

He didn’t. That would be crass. And besides, he didn’t have the condom on yet. But he could imagine and stroke those luscious curves as she moved.

She was still bent down when she turned to pass him the foil packet, giving him a mischievous wink. “Like what you see?” she asked. And then, damn if she didn’t extend her legs slowly while keeping her head down. Good God, she was flexible!

His hands were shaking as he suited up in record time. To hell with crass. She was giving him the choice, and he took it. It was only a half step to position himself, and then—yes!—a single, deep thrust and he was embedded inside her.

She gasped, her back arching beautifully. But then she gripped him. A long, low squeeze that started at his base and rolled up to the tip. Tight and hard and where had she learned to do that? He made a sound that might have been a growl, and she chuckled right before she did it again.

That was it. His brain fuzzed completely out and there was no stopping him. He grabbed hold of her hips and began to pump. He meant to pay more attention to her pleasure—God knows, he meant a lot of things—but he had no control. Not when she kept squeezing him like that.

And then, sweet heaven, she tumbled over the edge. She arched and cried out. Her grip became impossibly tight before she began to milk him in a strong pull. He slammed into her one last time, then erupted like never before. Holy cow, he even blacked out for a moment. And the pleasure of that release was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Heaven. Pure heaven!

But it didn’t last. It never did. Joy, ecstasy, even that sweet moment of unconsciousness faded away almost instantly. His mind kicked in, his thought resurfaced, and suddenly he realized he was leaning against the wall of a freight elevator still embedded in a woman he’d just met a half hour ago.

God, what was he thinking?

He took a deep breath, trying to gain some control. But even though his brain had kicked back in, his body still needed time to recover. It took a few more breaths before he could lean forward and help Amber stand. She was rather boneless, even in this position, but she moved easily enough. And he, sadly, slipped out of her as they adjusted.

“Mmm,” she murmured as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I take it back. You’re not gay. And if you are, I don’t want to know about it.”

“I’m not gay,” he said with a chuckle. “And I gotta know—does that count as round two or do I get to see you again?” The words were out before his brain could stop him. Did he even want to see her again? Sure, the sex was great, explosive even. But no guy was this lucky. Fabulous, no-strings-attached sex with a woman who looked like her? A woman who could bend over and kiss her own ankles? This was a setup for sure. He just didn’t know for what.

She started chewing on her bottom lip. She was uncertain and feeling awkward. Somehow that reassured him. A setup wouldn’t look as sweetly embarrassed as she did.

“I—I, um,” she stammered. “I think that was round two. This, uh, this isn’t really who I am anymore,” she said, gesturing to her thigh-highs and stiletto heels.

He shrugged, his suspicions starting to ease. “It’s not who I am either, but damn…”

“It was good, wasn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” With repartee like that, he was losing his Mr. Stud status fast. He scrambled to think of something to say that wasn’t lame. “Look, we don’t have to make it into something big. Just dinner. Very safe. Very casual.”

She didn’t answer. She began pulling on her skirt and he abruptly felt stupid standing there with his boxers at his ankles. So they both got busy readjusting themselves until they were facing each other fully dressed, and another awkward silence descended.

“So you’re a doctor, huh?” And again, he failed to find anything clever to say.

“Um, yeah. Well, no, not really. I mean, there’s an MD behind my name but…” She sighed and shrugged. “It’s kinda complicated.”

He gestured to where they were, stranded in a freight elevator. “I’ve got some time. How about you?”

“Uh, yeah.” She released a laugh. “Okay, personal history—the short version. I used to be this person. I used to be Mandolin Hospital, working toward management, fancy doctor with all the trimmings. Except I never made it. I had this desire to learn about stuff Western medicine didn’t encompass. In the end…” She shrugged. “I had to choose.”

“And you chose what exactly?”

“Research. The truth is that I have a fundamental need to explore, and the administration had a fundamental need to make me toe the line. I hit a moment when I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

He folded his arms across his chest and studied her face. He didn’t see any signs of outright deception, but she damn well wasn’t telling the whole story. No one upended their lives like that without something major happening.

“So you came to Chicago to do what? Let me guess, was there a guy involved?”

“Definitely no guy—I’d broken up with my last boyfriend at least a year earlier. And frankly, I’ve always been too focused on medicine for relationships. No, I came out here to visit Mary.”

When he frowned, not placing the name, she filled in the clues for him.

“She’s your plant lady. The one with rheumatoid arthritis. Those muffins are for her,” she said, pointing to the box on the floor.

“Ah. Right. Sorry.” He remembered, he just couldn’t put a face to the name.

“Anyway, she was one of my first patients a long time ago. So when I hopped into my car and started driving, I ended up on her doorstep. And then I stayed.”

“Doing what?”

“Besides filling in for her?”

She waited a moment, studying his face for something. In the end, he just raised his hands in surrender. “What am I missing?”

“I’m the fill-in plant lady. You saw me this afternoon after your lunch appointment.” As he continued to stare, her lips curled up in a smile. “I knew you didn’t recognize me. Picture me like this…” She lifted her hair into a ponytail. “Now add a shapeless sundress and hemp sandals.”

It took him a moment, but he got there. And he felt his eyes widen in shock. “Oh, my God! That’s you? The baggy plant lady I see sometimes? The one who could be pretty if she just made an effort?” He bit his tongue, then gestured to her clothing. “But then I guess you already know that you’re gorgeous when you make the effort.”

She waved off the compliment with a too-casual gesture. “I happen to think I’m beautiful even when I don’t make the effort. Beauty comes from within.”

Roger shook his head. “In your case, beauty comes from inside and outside.”

She took the compliment gracefully with a regal nod of her head, but something still didn’t sit right. He leaned forward.

“So you’ve given up medicine all together? Just to water plants?”

She shook her head. “No, no. Like I said, I do research. And before you ask, it’s not the kind of research you’re thinking of. No laboratory funded by a pharmaceutical grant. No Ph.Ds and definitely no Bunsen burner in sight.”

He nodded like he understood her. Which he didn’t. “So what kind of research?”

“New age.”

It took him a moment to process her words. And even then it was another moment beyond that. Meanwhile, she was cringing. Not obviously. Just a little, as if she expected him to start mocking her. He didn’t. During his mother’s last year, she’d explored crystals and aromatherapy and more. He never saw that it made any difference except to her. It gave her something to focus on before her death, something to explore. In many ways, he believed it gave his mother some peace before the end. In fact, when she’d finally died, he’d thought she was just meditating there for a moment.

“So you’re researching the effects of what? Crystals? Acupressure? Qigong?”

She straightened, obviously surprised that he hadn’t started laughing. “I tried those. They haven’t produced the results I’m looking for. So I’m looking at other modalities now.”

“Such as?”

“Energy healing. No needles. No herbs or crystals. Just—”

“Prayer.”

She shrugged. “Some people call it that.” She tilted her head. “You sound like you know something about it.”

“My mother spent the last year of her life on alternative healing. I got the tour along with her.”

“And?” she pressed. “You don’t seem to be dismissive of it, even though she died.”

He lifted his hands, trying to find a way to express his thoughts. “I didn’t expect a cure, and I don’t think she did either. And I have my own health issues that are making me think about alternative methods lately.” He had, in fact, spent half his afternoon searching the internet for some sort of blood pressure treatment. Something that a hospital couldn’t offer.

Her lips curved in a soft smile. “An open mind. I like that.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “You know, I’m beginning to think the universe does work in mysterious ways.” Because right here, right in front of him might be the answer to his prayers. But just in case he was wrong, he tried to think logically about it. He started tallying up facts in his brain.

His blood pressure was out of control. So out of control, he might have to quit his job.

He’d exhausted all the options that modern medicine could offer.

She was a doctor, but was serious about alternative methods and sounded like she took a scientific approach.

He needed to find a cure. Maybe she had the answer.

“So,” he said, feigning casualness, “find any therapies that work?”

She nodded, the most confident movement she’d made during the entire discussion. “I think so, yes.”

“Okay then,” he said, coming to a quick decision. “I’m game. Let’s do it.”

She blinked, obviously not following him. He didn’t blame her. It’s not like he had explained where his brain had taken him.

He smiled. “You’re a former doctor doing scientific research into energy healing.”

She nodded.

“Well, I’m a patient who’s looking for some nonstandard treatments. For high blood pressure. Really high blood pressure.”

She gaped at him. “What?”

“I want to hire you, Amber. For the magical mystery tour of energy healing. I’ll do whatever you want, however you want, so long as I don’t have to quit my job to do it.”

6

AMBER STARED AT the man who had just given her the two top orgasms of her life. “You want me to be your doctor?”

“Yes,” he said firmly, as if that made all the sense in the world.

“Do you know how completely unethical that is? I mean, we just… You…” She couldn’t even put into words what they had done except that it had been incredible. The last thing she wanted was to suddenly step into a professional relationship with him.

He just waved away her concerns with a mild shrug. “Well, you just said you’re a researcher now, not really a doctor.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“And I’m not asking for traditional medical science, obviously. Been there, done that, and it’s not working. I want you to do the other stuff. Acupuncture, voodoo, mystical whatever.” He spread his arms wide. “Experiment on me. Just so long as I can keep my job.”

She sighed. She hadn’t thought of him as a quick fix kind of guy. From what she’d heard and seen of him so far, he made quick decisions, but that was because he was a quick thinker. Not because he was searching for a short cut.

“I’m sure your doctor discussed with you all the other options for lowering your blood pressure. Diet, exercise—”

“Yeah. I’m doing it. Not helping.”

“Medications.”

He ran through the litany of meds he’d already tried. She leaned forward.

“Just how high is your blood pressure?”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little card where he had recorded all his readings for the last five months. Her eyebrows shot up. Yes, he certainly did have a problem. “How long has it been like this?”

“Climbing steadily since my teens. You’re looking at my stable point for the last year and half.”

“And you’ve been on—”

“Every hypertension medication known to mankind.”

She passed back his card while trying to keep her expression neutral. From what he described, he certainly needed something. If modern medicine wasn’t helping him, then he had to look elsewhere. She knew exactly what she’d recommend for him, but it was drastic and not even remotely guaranteed.

“So?” he pressed. “Will you do it? Will you help me?”

She shook her head. “I can’t be your doctor. I won’t. We’re…” She didn’t want to say they were in a relationship, because they weren’t. But they certainly weren’t strangers, either. “There are some lines I won’t cross.”

He sighed. “Fair enough. But how about advice? You give advice to friends, right? And after this, I’d really like to call you a friend.”

She cautiously nodded. Yes, she could see him as a friend.

“Okay then, friend, what would you recommend for me?”

She bit her lip and pulled out the most drastic course of action she could think of in the hopes that he would compromise and do at least some of the items on her list. “As a friend, I would tell you that I think you should go on a raw-food diet, start meditating and hire someone to do energy sessions on you. And, of course, take a long vacation—right now—to really examine your life. Something’s out of whack and you won’t know what it is until you stop completely and listen.”

To his credit, he didn’t even blink. But he did have a question. “Listen to what? Meditation tapes like mantras and stuff?”

She shook her head. “To your body. To your soul. To what you really want to have in your life and what needs to just disappear.”

He shrugged. “That’s easy. My body likes red meat, my job and you. And not necessarily in that order.”

She laughed because he was being absolutely serious and kind of sweet at the same time. “As your friend, I recommend you do a two-week retreat. Raw food, yoga, meditation and absolutely no electronics whatsoever.”

He frowned. “How is that different from quitting my job?”

“How is dying from a heart attack different from quitting your job?”

He huffed and closed his eyes. “You sound just like my doctor.”

She stepped forward because he really did have a problem. He was pretending to have a flippant attitude, but she could see the fear in his eyes. The man was up against a wall, and he knew it. So she touched his cheek. And then, because she couldn’t resist, she pressed her mouth to his. A moment later, his arm had snaked around her waist and he was hauling her closer. Bam, her blood started sizzling in her veins.

“I hear lots of sex is good for hypertension,” he said.

She might have said something snarky in response. Something about men, and sex being their answer to all of life’s problems. But he didn’t give her time and before long, she’d lost the thread of her thoughts beneath the amazing skill of his tongue.

Then the ceiling fell in on them.

Perhaps that was fortunate, though, because nothing short of a ceiling access panel falling on their heads would have gotten their attention. As it was, Amber was tempted to just keep going. But that was because Roger took the worst of the impact.

“Ow! What the—”

“Sorry! Sorry about that!” came a voice from above.

Amber looked up to see a man in coveralls poking his head through the top of the elevator. Roger rubbed his head and glared at the newcomer.

“A little warning next time would be nice,” he groused. Then he frowned. “And why aren’t you at your bachelor party?”

Ah! thought Amber. This was Sam Finn, CEO of RFE. The genius inventor and Roger’s best friend. And obviously the man who was about to get married.

“Someone had to rescue you. Might as well be me.”

“You could have texted me that there was an access panel up there. Geez, we would have climbed out on our own.”

Sam just laughed. “I did, buddy. Apparently, you were too busy doing something else to look at your phone.”

Amber flushed at that. Had they really been so involved that they hadn’t even noticed their rescue? She didn’t need to answer the question. Obviously, they had been.

Sam leaped down into the elevator. Clearly, the man had done this before. He went immediately to the panel and popped it open, using some sort of handheld device to diagnose the problem. “I’m Sam, by the way,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m Roger’s boss, best friend and designated rescuer this week.”

“And I’m yours every damn day of the week,” Roger shot back.

Amber laughed. She could tell from the byplay that they were friends of long standing. They might poke at each other, but clearly the bond between them ran deep.

“I’m Amber,” she said warmly. “And I’m Roger’s friend. Therefore, as his friend, I am breeching no confidentiality at all when I tell you that he needs to take a vacation. Now. For his health. Like starting yesterday and for a couple of weeks at least.”

Roger reacted exactly as she expected: with anger and a flash of betrayal in his eyes. She was sorry for that. Truly sorry. But for his own good, Roger needed his friends to force him to take that long break.

Meanwhile, Sam twisted to look at his friend. “Is that true?”

Roger huffed. “Look, we’re going to have to fly out next month to the Mandolin Clinic—”

Sam straightened with a look of alarm.

“For business!” Roger scrambled to say. “There’s a doctor there who’s open to working with us on some products. There are some exciting possibilities.”

Sam ignored him, his expression narrowing. “This about your blood pressure?”

Roger grimaced. “I’ll take a vacation right after the meeting.”

Sam nodded slowly. “What about the convention next month?”

Roger frowned. “Oh, yeah. It’ll have to be after that. There’s a lot to prepare—”

“And then there’s the audit. Not a big deal, but you usually—”

“Yeah,” Roger groaned. “I want to be here for that.”

Sam rubbed his chin. Then he looked directly at Amber. “How serious is his condition?”

Amber shrugged. “As you can see, he looks and feels fine. But I believe he needs to get control of it now.”

Sam glanced at his friend. “By way of a vacation? Health spa or something, right?”

Roger shifted so he was standing between the two of them. “I’ll take a vacation. Soon. I swear.”

Sam shook his head. “No, you’ll take one now or you’re fired. We can handle things without you for a while.”

“You can’t even keep the elevator running!”

Sam shot his friend a look as he pressed a button. Right on cue, the elevator hummed to life. A moment later, the doors opened on the ground floor. Roger and Amber stepped out while Sam continued to tap keys on his pad. Roger turned back to look at his friend, a flush of desperation in his face.

“Sam, look, I know you care, but this vacation thing isn’t the real—”

“Hey, Roger,” interrupted Sam. “Thanks for the bachelor party. It was really great, and the guys are still out there having the kind of time an engaged man shouldn’t enjoy.”

“Sam—”

“You’re a great best man. Now, if I see you again in the next two weeks, you’re fired. No joke, man, you know I’m serious. Do what you need to do to get healthy.”

“I can’t just disappear, Sam. I need to—”

Sam wasn’t listening. He waved pleasantly to Amber. “Nice meeting you.” Then he pushed a button and the elevator doors started closing.

Roger leaped forward, but it was too late. The metal doors shut tight. “Sam!” he bellowed. Then he slammed his briefcase against the elevator doors. “Sam, you arrogant bastard!”

No response. Not that he seemed to expect one. Instead, he just stood there, fuming silently. Amber thought about sneaking away. Maybe she could slip into the shadows before he remembered she was there. But she nixed the thought almost immediately. After all, she was the one who had told his friend and boss about the problem. It was only fair that she stand here and take the consequences. Besides, given the state of his blood pressure, he might well be about to have a coronary.

“Go ahead,” she said. “Kick it. Scream a bit. Don’t hold all that fury inside.”

He spun around to glare at her. “You had to tell him.”

“I’m not your doctor,” she said firmly. “And as your friend, I’m worried about your health.”

“Are you worried about whether or not I’m going to strangle you?”

She smiled because she detected a hint of humor beneath his words. “No,” she answered truthfully. “I’m worried you’re going to stroke out right now before we can get you feeling better.”

“I. Feel. Fine!”

She nodded, but didn’t back down despite the fury on his face. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal. And it’s one I can’t check on my own, so I’m trusting in your honesty.”

He arched a brow. He was listening.

“I’m willing to go right back upstairs now and tell Sam I was wrong. That you’ve got everything completely under control and that we can trust your judgment on your health.”

“Really?” he drawled, suspicion in every syllable.

“Yeah. Provided you can do one thing.”

He waited in silence.

“I want you to close your eyes, breathe deeply and not think of anything at all for one minute. Just listen. To your breath, to the sounds in the garage, to how your body feels. Just listen. Not a single word or thought attached to it.”

He frowned. “That’s all?”

“Yup. That’s it. Frankly, I’ll be surprised if you last more than three seconds.”

“Ha. I used to do this with my mother.” He dropped his briefcase, folding his arms across his chest, then leaned back against the garage wall. “Bring it on, baby,” he snapped.

“Not a single thought.”

“Just listening. I got it.” He arched a brow at her. “It’s not like I haven’t done this meditation crap before.”

She smiled. Now she was getting down to the real Roger. A half hour ago, he wouldn’t have dismissed her beliefs with words like “meditation crap.” But right now he was really ticked off, and so his true thoughts were shining through. She counted that as progress, so she held out her hand in the friendliest gesture she could make.

“I’ll need to use your watch. I don’t have one.”

He frowned. “You don’t have a watch?”

“Not since I left Mandolin.”

He gave her a disbelieving look as he whipped off his tasteful digital watch and passed it to her. She took it and waited as he composed himself.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yes,” he returned, his voice deep and even. That surprised her. Obviously, he really had done some meditation on his own. She could already see how his shoulders dropped and his breathing began to even out.

“Go.”

She started the timer on his watch. The seconds started to tick by. As long as he was trying to meditate, she should do the same, becoming as present as possible in the current moment. Her vision blurred out slightly, and like him, her breath steadied. She heard the sounds from the street outside, but then pulled her focus deeper. She listened to the draw of air in her lungs and heard the pulse of blood in her right ear, an annoying symptom she had yet to resolve. With her next exhale, she consciously released the judgment and frustration she held in that thought. And then she released the thought about releasing her thoughts.

Barely two seconds later, she began to wonder how Roger was doing. Without willing it, her gaze snapped to him. His eyes were closed, his breath steady. Perhaps she had misjudged him. Perhaps he did know how to release his stress in a silent meditation…. Perhaps he was doing way better than she was because, frankly, she’d been thinking this whole time.

She pulled her attention back to her own silence, refocusing on not thinking. She managed it for seven seconds before she started wondering about Roger again. His breath was a little louder now, but in the silence of the garage, she heard it like an alarm.