Good Time Doctor

Jason kisses my temple. It’s not until he does that that I realize the backs of my eyes are stinging. “So what you’re saying is you’re dealing with a case of heartbreak as well as that head injury, hmm?” he asks, his voice soft and low beside my cheek.

I turn to meet his gaze, those deep, dark gray eyes of his that I could get lost in every time, and I find myself smiling again. “Actually, I don’t think so. It’s more like… wounded pride.” I laugh a little, under my breath. “Which, I guess means I definitely got married for the wrong reasons, huh? If I’m not even crushed about it ending.”

“Probably,” he agrees. “But it sounds like you’re on the right path now, getting out of that situation.” He leans in to kiss me, and a shiver runs from the top of my head all the way down to my toes as our lips meet.

I lift my arm to wrap around his neck, and savor the way he tastes, warm and just a little salty and sweet, as his lips part and his tongue slides around mine. When we break to catch our breath, I catch him watching me intently, and I smile up at him. “Oh, I’m definitely on the right path now,” I murmur. Then I lean in and kiss him again, harder this time.

His hands slide down to my waist, holding me gently. He kisses down my jawline to the soft spot below my ear, nipping at the skin there, just hard enough to make me gasp, my head tilting back to grant him access. His lips trace the line of my neck right under my chin, all the way down to my clavicle, where his tongue darts against my skin, tasting me in a way that makes my toes curl. He draws back and smiles at me. “You know, Ms. Jorden, I do believe it’s time for your follow-up examination.”

My breath catches, just imagining him in the lab coat he was wearing earlier today, in the examination room. My eyes sparkle as I hold his gaze. “Where do you want me, Dr. Robinson?”

“Everywhere,” he says, and it makes my belly clench against the butterflies exploding inside it. “But let’s try the bed first.” He nods toward it, and I rise, conscious of the way his gaze follows my every movement, tracing over my body like he can’t get enough of watching me.

It makes me feel scorching hot, and sexy as hell, to know this doctor still can’t keep his hands—or his eyes—off me. I walk toward the bed, making sure to check over my shoulder when I reach it and smiling at him.

“Lie down,” he says, walking toward me. It makes my pulse race as he does, but I obey and lie down on the bed, not taking my eyes from his as I do. He reaches the bedside and gazes down at me, drinking in every inch of my body. I shiver, feeling exposed already even though I haven’t taken off any clothes. “Now, Ms. Jordan.” His voice has gone deeper, steadier, as he reaches down to slide his hands over my shoulders. “I’m going to examine you… thoroughly.” His hands dig into my shoulder muscles, and a little sigh of pleasure escapes as he starts to knead the muscles there.

I didn’t realize how tense I’ve been all day, ever since the accident earlier. Even with all the relaxing I’d tried to do, I was still carrying my shoulders practically up around my ears. It’s not until he starts touching me that I realize how tense I am. Now, I relax into his touch, sighing again as his hands shift down one arm at a time, and he massages out tight kinks I didn’t even realize were there.

“When was the last time you had a massage, Naomi?” His gaze drifts to mine, amused. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt knots like these.” He traces all the way down to my hands, and even massages them, one after the next, pressing on spots that make my fingers curl involuntarily around his.

Wow. I figured doctors would be good with their hands—and I certainly knew he was experienced with his—but this is next level. “Um…” I furrow my brow, trying to think. In response, he moves his hands to run them up each side of my neck, pressing there, making my face relax again, my brow unfurrowing at his soothing touch. “I… don’t know that I’ve ever had a massage like this one.”

“Well now, that can’t stand.” His hands slide back down to my shoulders, and then start down my chest. He makes sure to knead gently but firmly the whole time, tracing lines of muscles that feel tight, but which I hadn’t even realized could be tight. His hands reach my breasts, and he gently cups each one, his thumbs pressed against my nipples as his fingers work around each breast, making me sigh again, my eyes fluttering shut as I sink into the pleasure of the sensation. “I’m going to have to prescribe you at least one of these massages a week,” he murmurs, and I can hear rather than see the grin in his voice.

“At least?” I ask, arching a brow, and peeking out from under my eyelashes at him.

His grin widens. “Preferably more often. One every night would be ideal, if you can find a doctor to perform them. Luckily, you have a ready and willing one right here…” He tightens his press against my nipple then, just a little, firmly enough to make me moan softly this time, squirming against the bed, resisting the urge to arch my back up into his hands. The pleasure builds as he strokes my nipples, but then, all at once, he shifts his hands away, and I sink back down against the bed, biting the inside of my lip, frustrated but knowing his teasing will only grow worse if I let the frustration show.

I remember how he made me beg last time, and it sends another shiver through me. I can already feel myself starting to get wet at the thought—not to mention at his touch—and I clench my thighs together a little tighter, reflexively.

His hands have reached my waist now, and the way he’s kneading and pressing at the sides of my belly make it flutter even worse now. “You know, normally most patients find a massage relaxing,” Jason points out, eying me. “But you, my dear, seem to be growing more… excited, instead, the longer I touch you.” One of his hands slides over the smooth plane of my stomach slowly, down, down, tracing over the silky fabric of my nightgown, which only adds an extra layer of pleasure to how good his warm, strong hands feel against my skin. His hand reaches my mound, slips lower, digging between my thighs so his fingers can grip my pussy, just tightly enough to make me gasp. “What do you have to say for yourself, Ms. Jordan?” He tilts his head, eyes alight with amusement as his fingers stroke the outside of my pussy lips lightly, back and forth, just enough to elicit little pants of anticipation from me.

“I… must admit, Doctor.” My eyes flash back to his, also bright, I’m sure, with heat. I want him. So fucking badly right now. “The way you’re touching me right now has been giving me… impure thoughts.”

“That much I gathered.” His hand slides back and forth against my crotch, just a little, an inch at a time. But it’s enough to make me buck up against him, my hips moving of their own accord. “So tell me. What do you think is the treatment for such thoughts, Ms. Jordan?”

I lick my lips, suddenly nervous that if I say the wrong thing, he’ll stop touching me and go back to teasing. And god, I don’t ever want him to stop touching me. “I’m… not sure. You’re the doctor, after all.” My eyes flash. “What do you want to do to me?”

“Mm. I want to help you relax. But I fear that will be impossible, what with how excited you’ve become. So we’ll probably need to do something about that.” With that, he uses his other hand, the one still hovering around my waist, massaging my side, to hitch up my nightgown. His other hand, the one cupped around my pussy, stills for a second as he takes in the lacy little thong I’ve worn. His smile widens in appreciation. “You know, back in the old days…” He slips his hand underneath the thong.

I gasp a little at the contact of his bare skin against mine. His hand feels warm and smooth and strong, especially as his fingers inch down over my freshly shaved mound. They part around my clit, without quite touching it, but even just the pressure of him touching near it is enough to make my heart start to pound, and my nerve endings tingle in anticipation.

“Doctors used to think that women’s orgasms could cure their hysteria.” He grins at me. “Well, they also used to think hysteria was a thing at all, which is ridiculous, but…” He slides a finger between my lower lips, and strokes slowly back and forth along my slit, coa

ting his finger in my juices. I’m already soaking wet. He grins the moment he feels it, and swirls his finger against my entrance lightly, teasing, before he goes back to stroking the slit instead, back and forth, slow enough to drive me wild. “I think there might be something to the idea that you should give a woman as many orgasms as possible,” he says, leaning down toward me.

I tilt my face toward his, my eyelids fluttering half closed. “Do… you?” I manage a faint, distracted smile, especially once he slides a single finger into me, smoothly but firmly, all at once, burying his finger up to the knuckle. I gasp and buck up toward him. His other hand, still at my waist, tightens around my hips, to hold me firm against the mattress.

“We can always try an experiment now, Ms. Jordan.” His eyes sparkle with amusement. He’s enjoying himself, this sexy roleplay of his.

So am I.

“What experiment did you… have in mind?” I manage to ask, my breath only hitching once, as he curls his finger inside of me and starts to inch it down along my inner walls, making sure to press hard enough for me to feel his finger glide across my G-spot. I shiver, the sensation shooting all the way down to my toes, and fight the urge to arch up into his hand once again.

“I’m going to see how many times I can make you come,” he says, leaning in to catch my earlobe between his teeth, his tongue toying with my earring gently. He nips the sensitive skin there lightly, before he draws back, just far enough so his breath is hot against my throat when he adds, “As long as you’re all right with this procedure, of course, Ms. Jordan.”

“God yes,” I breathe, and he chuckles, his breath searing hot against my skin, before he dips his mouth to mine. We kiss, his tongue parting my lips to claim my mouth, hot and heavy. I surrender, let him have complete control over every inch of my body. His free hand slides back up, underneath my nightgown this time, to cup my breasts, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, slowly making it harden, as his finger continues to stroke in and out of me in a slow, steady rhythm.