Attrition of the Gods: Book 1 of the Mystery Thriller series Gods Toys. (17 page)

She had dark brown hair, green eyes and pale porcelain skin. “You’re an English rose with fantastic tits,” is how Shane answered her when Sara once asked “What do you see in me?” Shane saw so much more in her though, he loved the way she looked, the way she smiled, the way she moved, but mostly he loved the fact that she cared, not just about him but about things, people, the world, even animals. To top it all she was fun, not the sort of fabricated fun Shane had grown to depend on, but pure unadulterated joy. She laughed and made everyone else laugh. Shane loved her, really, really loved her.

Sara also genuinely loved Shane. He was not like any man she had met before. She could admit to herself that most, if not all, of her previous relationships involved doing what was expected of her. Yes, she’d had a couple of “fuck buddies” while at university, but then her “proper” relationships were all set up by friends and colleagues and seemed to fit a preordained narrative that a professional girl like her should follow rather than what she really wanted. Shane was not in the script at all, she knew her friends and family would object to everything about him.

Just like Shane was instantly attracted to her, Sara was drawn to Shane from the moment she first laid eyes on him. She was on duty the night he was admitted, battered and bruised, his face a purple and black ballooning mess, his torso torn and several broken bones and teeth for good measure and yet she was somehow smitten. It was while another doctor stitched a wound in his abdomen without anaesthetic in case he was drunk that Sara hung around and took his hand, hoping to comfort him through what she was sure would be unbearable pain. She fully expected this powerful-looking man to squeeze the life out of her hand but instead he ran his thumb gently across the soft skin behind her knuckles and looked at her as the stitches went in, smiling as if only the two of them were there.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“I’m Sara, erm, I mean… Doctor May.”

“I prefer Sara.”

That was it. He smiled and throughout the whole operation fixed his eyes on her with not even a grimace of pain, just a look of wonderment. Sara too just stared, hoping the nurses and doctors didn’t cop on to her childlike infatuated gazing.

As he got better Sara would look in on him and at first stayed professional when he made his remarks and obvious advances because a doctor must not engage romantically with a patient. However, after a few weeks Shane was released and Sara had no doubt they would meet again.

She was actually a little panicked when she did not bump into him during the first couple of weeks, but then at the gym while she was coming out of her yoga class covered in sweat with no make-up on and her hair bunched on the top of her head like a pineapple, there he was. Sara wasn’t sure whether he had seen her and was in two minds whether to hide from him or jump on him. She remembered her midriff showed between the sports bra and leggings she was wearing
. Damn, why
did I eat that bowl full of ice cream?
she asked herself.

Shane spotted her the second she left the studio, beads of sweat glistening off her glowing skin, gorgeous curly locks and what a body. He knew she had seen him and for a moment feared she was going to ignore him. Then finally she came over.

“Hello Shane, I didn’t know you were a member here.”

“I am a member here… and every other gym this side of town.”

Sara looked puzzled at his reply, not sure if he was trying to crack a joke.

“What do you mean?”

Shane was nothing if not observant and he’d known straight away that this girl must go to a gym, not because of the slim athletic body – that could be genetics – instead he’d observed the concave back and straight shoulders, the pert gluteus and flat stomach; every bit of her taut and toned. These things need work, and yoga was the most likely form of exercise to achieve this condition.

“I have been joining gyms all over town looking for you,” he said. “This is one of five I attend every week hanging around outside yoga classes hoping you’d be at one so I could casually bump into you.”

Shane was aware that by confessing this he was actually ruining this marvellous plan and possibly making himself sound like a bit of a stalker. He could hear his own voice telling him to shut up but still he rambled on.

“There are lots of classes at different times. In fact this is the sixty-seventh class I have waited outside.”
(SHUT THE FUCK UP!
he screamed in his head.)

Shane looked at Sara, determined not to speak again until she did. There was a moment of awkward silence before she looked to the ground then back up to him.

“I am on Facebook.”

“Yeah, that probably would have been easier.”

Shane gave a childlike smile and Sara let out an uncharacteristic girly giggle, then they both laughed.

“So can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

“Well, I suppose after sixty-five classes it would be rude to say ‘no’.”

“Sixty-seven.”

From that very first night any worries that Sara had about this being a “bad boy makes the heart beat fonder” syndrome were completely put to bed. They went to a quaint jazz bar called Misty’s and soon relaxed in each other’s company. Shane listened intently to Sara, genuinely interested in her job, her loves, her hates, her hobbies… just everything. Sara had never felt this comfortable around anyone. She found herself opening up, telling him everything, even her most intimate secrets. However, she was aware that anything she had to say was not going to compare to Shane’s confidences, which she sensed would be deep and dark and best left for now. After the bar he walked her home and gently kissed her cheek goodnight, not attempting to make a play. He asked if he could see her again. For a moment Sara felt she was in one of her favourite movies, she was Audrey Hepburn, he was George Peppard. It was only when he turned to leave that she went out of character – not for Hepburn, but for Sara.

“Why don’t you come up? It’s still early.”

By the time they’d climbed the four flights of stairs and crossed the threshold they both were caressing and kissing wildly. She felt any thought of virtuous resistance melt as his hands clasped either side of her waist and lifted her with ease, her beating heart pulled against his chest. Moments later she was pointing the direction of the bedroom and with his usual enthusiasm Shane crashed through the door, tearing at his clothes as she pulled her dress off, losing a couple of buttons in the process. He pushed her naked body onto the bed as he removed his final items of clothing. He paused for a minute, taking stock of his unbelievable luck then he collapsed down on her.

Shane had been with many women and believed he knew how to please them; his sheer animalistic aggression and physical stature seemed to do the trick with his previous encounters; no one had ever complained. Sara’s words were not really a complaint but she knew what she liked and she was not shy about telling him.

“Slow down, let me show you.”

Sara guided Shane and showed him a slower way to enjoy the passion. Soon she was swaying on top of him, her hair falling down across her face as she followed a rhythm that would bring them both to the plateau of carnal pleasure. Shane was both surprised and comfortable with the feelings he was experiencing. This act he had taken part in many times was suddenly taking on a whole new level of intimacy. He felt powerless against her will but he was savouring every moment.

All his previous sexual encounters had involved woman literally bending over backwards to please him but these paled into insignificance as he became the student learning from her knowledge. Sara was teaching him the difference between having sex and making love. She was taming him.

She took control but when the crescendo of lovemaking reached its finale, it was time to let him free. He placed his strong powerful arms around her and effortlessly turned her, not a beat missed. She lay face down on the crisp white sheets, lifting herself up and down and writhing as she felt the beginning of her inevitable orgasm. She thrust herself back hard into him and he instinctively took hold of her outer thighs, unleashing the power and vigour she had earlier sought to control. She left no doubt as to when she had climaxed: “Oh! Fucking yes! Oh yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssss!”

Shane held her even tighter as she forced him further into her, not moving, just waiting as she gently pulsated and eventually collapsed face down.

“Wow, you really have recovered, Mr Mills,” she joked before turning over to face him, welcoming him with a huge beautiful smile.

She looked down and observed he had not finished yet. The smile got even bigger.

“I still need some looking after, Doctor May,” he smiled.

As they lay in each other’s arms, both fully satisfied, Shane stared up at the ceiling. These feelings of contentment were totally alien to him. He had never felt emotion like this before.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Sara, with a hint of mischief in her voice.

“You, me, everything really. Who would have thought that bunch of psycho jocks who put me in the hospital were actually doing me a huge favour?” He turned his head to look at her. “What will the hospital say? Are there rules about this sort of patient–doctor intimacy?”

“Strictly speaking we haven’t broken any rules but I’m sure if they ever found it would be the juiciest gossip for a week or two.”

“So is this a one-time-only thing, Doctor May, or will you want to be seeing me again?”

“I prefer Sara and I am not quite ready to discharge you yet.”

There was no awkward conversation the next day, no wondering if they would see each other again. It was all that was said, the rest was known. They were together and very happy. Sara loved Shane and Shane loved Sara.



Unfortunately so did Eric Temple Lloyd. Eric was the head practitioner at the clinic that Sara interned at two days a week. Eric and Sara had had a drunken grope at the 999 party the previous Christmas and as much as Sara regretted it she was always polite when Eric mentioned her red stockings. Sara was aware that Eric had a crush on her but had no idea to what extent.

Eric was the only son of Sir Richard Temple and his wife Caroline, formally Caroline Lloyd of Lloyd’s medical suppliers. The joint wealth of his parents ran into tens of millions and Eric knew in his own mind that he was a great catch for any woman, especially a low-paid intern who drove a ten-year-old VW Beetle. Eric first heard the rumours about Sara dating an ex-patient shortly after Shane moved in with her. At first he dropped hints and sarcastic remarks but when he saw the loved-up couple kissing and cuddling outside his office one day he saw red.

He researched the rules on this sort of thing but was disappointed to find that as the relationship started after Shane was discharged, technically they had broken no rules. Eric’s interactions with Sara soon became hostile and he began treating her as a skivvy. At first Sara was naive to his motives but Elsie on reception put her straight.

“It’s ’cause he wants to get in your knickers,” she told Sara over coffee in the staff room one day. “He’s heard about your soldier boy and he’s jealous.”

“Don’t be daft,” dismissed Sara.

“I’m telling you,” Elsie said. “He is obsessed with you, always asking ‘Is Sara in today?’, ‘Will Sara be in later?’. He could not be more obvious. He, err, even hinted to me and Mary that you two had sex at the Christmas party last year.”

Sara’s face glows red; half through embarrassment, half with rage.

“Sex! The cheeky bastard…! He only groped me and stuck his tongue down my throat and tried to stick his hand up my skirt. Fortunately I was sick before we got any further.”

Still Elsie raises her eyebrows and the reality of the situation hit Sara as she accepted what Elsie was saying.

“Oh my god, how could I be so blind?” she said, more to herself than Elsie. “What am I going to do? That’s basically sexual harassment! If I say something I’m liable to flip out but if I don’t I’ll be Cinder-fucking-rella for the rest of my time here.”

Elsie shrugged. “Eric may be a prick but he is the prick boss. It’s not worth causing a fuss. If I was you I would just suck it up. You’ve only got a few more months left and then you don’t have to see him ever again.” Sara thought for a second. “Yeah, you’re right. I can last for a few more months.” The two women nodded in shared pain and then Sara said, “You guys didn’t believe I’d had sex with him, did you?”

“Oh no, dear, of course not. Apparently he had you swinging from the chandelier in pure orgasmic delight!”

They shared a glance and then both dissolved into hysterics.

The next few months were tough for Sara at work as Eric became even viler towards her. She coped with the hassle, knowing her term with him was soon over and because she had Shane at home to wine, dine and make love to her each night. Sara had discovered a very sensitive and intelligent man. She could feel the power in his arms and knew what he was capable of and guilty of in the past but she honestly believed that this was the best man she could hope to meet. She was also amazed at how clever he was.

“If you had had a proper education you could have been a doctor or anything you wanted,” she often told him, meaning every word.

Up until she met Shane, Sara had only had one tattoo which comprised of five tiny stars on her foot. But after seeing some of the tattoos Shane drew she begged him to ink her shoulder, trusting him to decide what to do. After six hours of surprisingly not overly intense pain he finished and showed her his work in the mirror.

“Wow.”

She was truly gobsmacked, it was beautiful. It was not until she looked closer that she cried, emotion building as she fully took in the scene. A little girl, who Sara identified as herself when she was a tot, sat in the hands of a beautiful angel. It was when Sara recognised her mother’s face that the tears fell. The detail and accuracy was startling, the compassion it portrayed was overwhelming. She held Shane tight as the tears ran down, ignoring the burning pain from her shoulder.

“I love you, Shane.” The first time he ever heard those words from a sober woman.