"Please! Please! Please!" I choke out, trying to keep my focus on his intense stare.
"Fuck, Blubird. Your cunt squeezes me so good. You're mine to fuck, mine to fill. Aren't you?"
"Yes! Fill me! Please!" I shriek, pushing my hips to meet his, and a violent high overpowers me. I yell out, "Dr. Mercer you own me!"
He thrusts again, his body tenses, then he spills inside me with a roar.
The heat floods me, turning my high to fire. My limbs tremble until I'm limp. Buzzing continues to spot my vision.
He collapses beside me, pulling me into his chest.
I barely get out, "Have you always done that with women?"
He freezes, except for his lungs, which still heave. "Do what?"
"Teach them how to wait to come." I bite my lip.
His lips twitch. "No, Bluebird. All the sex I've had was boring up until you."
"Boring?"
He strokes my back. "Yeah. Vanilla. Clean. Polite."
I manage to take a deep breath, release it, and quietly ask, "So... I'm different?"
He slides his thumb over my jaw and smiles. "Yeah. You're different. In a good way."
I tilt my head. "Why didn't you have more exciting sex before me?"
His face falls. "I don't know. I guess you bring a dark side out of me."
Euphoria hits me. I rise on my elbow and lean over his face. I ask, "You like it, right?"
He chuckles, then admits, "No. I love it."
"Good." I kiss him, then lean into his arms, happy.
Our breaths slow together, bodies slick and spent.
I yawn, then trace his jaw, whispering, "Promise you'll stay and you won't leave me again."
He kisses my forehead. "Okay. But we plan it right."
I nod, curling closer, but in my mind, the vow hardens.
Red and I are permanent. No matter the cost.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Red
Two Weeks Later
Normalcy is gone. My calendar app is a war zone of overlapping blocks, each one screaming urgency. The annoying ping of my inbox interrupts me every thirty seconds, while another email lands like a grenade I can't defuse without help.
Shirley's ghost lingers in the empty chair in the lobby, her absence a gaping hole since I fired her a few weeks ago. I need a new assistant, someone to handle the chaos so I can focus on patients. So I cleared the day to focus on interviews.
The first candidate, Julie, knocks, and I wave her in. She perches on the edge of her seat, resume clutched in manicured hands. "Dr. Mercer, I'm excited about this opportunity. I have five years in medical administration, and I always adhere to HIPAA protocols without exception."
