Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (116 page)

My orgasm matched his rhythm, tensing and growing with
every shot of his cream. The scene in front of me, the naughtiness of what
we’d just done, it fueled my fantasies. I shivered and spasmed on the
table, and while I wanted him inside of me, filling me, some vague part of me
knew he was right. The doctor would need to do some preliminary exams,
and most likely that involved scoping out my lower region. No matter how
much cleaning up we did after the fact, she’d probably suspect something if she
saw the remnants of a recent sexual encounter. And would she tell
Beatrice?

Asher finished spurting, but apparently he wasn’t
finished with me. Grabbing my panties again, catching me off guard, he
pulled them aside and thrust himself inside of me. Once, twice,
again. My orgasm soared back to life, caught up in his need, and I
clenched against him. No one had ever done this with me before.
Granted, every man I’d been with before now had always worn a condom, too.

I bucked my hips against Asher, riding him to another
peak of pleasure. He slammed into me, hard and urgent, fighting against
the clock and trying to force me to orgasm again. I felt him flex inside
of me, straining to keep his cock hard enough to satisfy me. He could
have remained perfectly still and let me bask in the feel of him inside me for
all I cared; it probably would have done the same thing.

Still, his cock was softening, which was kind of
exciting in its own way. This man, this desirous, aloof man who had no
reason to even look at me twice, was doing everything in his power to please
me. I could not stop him and he refused to accept anything else from
me. The idea of it, the heady, drunken feeling it gave me, flung me over
the edge.

I could still feel him inside me, pushing, his cock
returning to normal, but it was a more subtle feeling now. Not that it
mattered, though, because I was in the full throes of climax once again.
I pulled at him and he didn’t move away this time, merely kept himself inside
me. The wall of my pussy squeezed and hugged against his cock while he
embraced me. I rode through my pleasure, eyes closed, languishing in the
delightful sensation of it.

As I was coming down, indulging in the afterglow,
Asher’s cock still tucked neatly inside me, someone knocked on the door.

“Asher?” a woman asked. “Are you
in there?”

Beatrice. His wife.

“Shit,” he said. Pulling away from me,
he bent down and wrenched his pants up. His fingers, seemingly ungainly
and thick all of a sudden, barely managed to button his pants and buckle his
belt before Beatrice knocked again.

“Hello? I’m coming in.”

Beatrice tried to turn the handle, but the door was
locked. I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for the doctor’s office
doors; they locked automatically whenever anyone closed them fully, to prevent
inopportune entrances during potentially awkward examinations. Asher and
I might have benefited from this in a less legitimate way, but it worked out
nonetheless.

I hopped up and grabbed a handful of paper towels from
above a hand washing sink and rubbed them against the fabric of my panties
trying to scrub away Asher’s seed.

“Sorry, Beatrice,” Asher said.
“These doors lock on their own. Jessika and I were just discussing
the procedure. Hold on, let me figure this door out.”

“It’s just a lock,” she said.
“How hard can it be? Let me in.”

He looked at me, his expression full of panic. I
shrugged and flailed my hands to the side, a sort of “I don’t know!”
gesture. Somewhat satisfied with my progress in cleaning up our mess, I
threw the paper towels into a trash basket, fixed my panties and skirt, and
jumped back onto the cushioned table.

“The locks can be tricky sometimes,” I said,
overly loud and nervous. I said it for Asher’s benefit, but as soon as I
did I felt like it sounded like something a bad actor might say.

Asher toyed with the door handle and the lock.
Confused, he looked at me and whispered, “I really don’t know how to open
this. Help?”

Oh God, oh God, this was getting worse by the
minute. I rushed over to the door and stared at the handle. Asher
pulled on it and poked something. The door handle had a switch and a
button, but neither of them looked ready to do anything but stay in place.

“Is everything alright?” our doctor asked
from far away down the hall.

“The door is stuck,” Beatrice said.
“What kind of shoddy facility is this?”

If the doctor was annoyed, she didn’t sound it.
“It’s a security measure,” she said.

“Do you think my husband is going to steal from
you? He makes more in a day than everyone in this office combined makes
in a year.”

The doctor ignored her. “If you’ll allow
me, I can unlock the door with this key. It’s not that we don’t trust
anyone, but it’s the type of door we have. I told your husband and
Jessika to page me through the in-room intercom system when they were
ready. There’s no need to worry, Mrs. Landseer.”

“Hurry,” Beatrice said. “Right
now.”

The doctor put the key into the keyhole and the button
on our side of the door popped out. A twist of the handle later and the
door opened. A very angry looking Beatrice and a slightly irritated
looking doctor stood on the other side.

“Well,” Beatrice said, stomping inside. “That’s
a first. No one has ever mistaken me for a thief before. I’m quite
surprised to say the least.”

I wanted to say something, primarily to correct her
and mention that no one had mistaken her for a thief, but I suppressed my
urge. This was probably a good time to let Beatrice think whatever she
wanted, because it saved Asher and I the need to explain anything.
Because, really, I didn’t even know how to begin to explain any of it.

Beatrice sniffed at the air, wrinkling her nose.
The smell of sex was extremely obvious to me, and I knew at that moment that
she’d figure it out. Everything, all at once, no more hiding, and…

“I despise the smell of hospitals,” she
said. “Even here. Ugh. It has a distinct stale
smell. Far too crisp and pervasive, like someone’s gone through the
entire room with four different kinds of disinfectant spray.”

“You’re welcome to wait in the waiting room, Mrs.
Landseer,” the doctor said with a smile.

“I’ll pass.” Beatrice put her nose up
at the very thought. “I would rather not wait with the huddled
masses.”

Huddled masses? I thought maybe she was being a
bit over the top with that one, or maybe it was a joke? But, no, Beatrice
looked completely serious. In fact, after she said it, I could’ve sworn
she peered at me out of the corner of her eye. Then she looked away—if
she’d even looked at me in the first place—and settled into one of the chairs
in the room.

“I think Jessika and I went over most concerns we
might have with the procedure and the consent papers,” Asher said.
“Is there another room where Beatrice and I can talk while you do the
examination, or…?”

The doctor put on a saccharine sweet smile and shook
her head. Clearly she didn’t want to put up with this. “Oh,
no, you two stay here. I can take Ms. Fevrier to another room. I’ll
have someone clear out the huddled masses beforehand, so don’t you worry.”

With that, the doctor stepped into the hallway and
beckoned for me to follow. Asher refrained from laughing, but Beatrice
looked completely astounded.

“Did she really just say that?” Beatrice
asked Asher as I walked out of the room and followed the doctor.
“What kind of place is this, Asher? I don’t think we should be
consorting with these types of people. They seem unsafe.”

I stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry about
that,” I said. “I think she’s always like that. It’s
probably nothing personal.”

“Oh, I’m sure she is,” the doctor
said. “I don’t really care. I don’t have to deal with
her.”

…

Asher was, perhaps, the luckiest man in the
world. Or the unluckiest, depending on how someone saw it.

Why had he done what he did with Jessika? And,
especially, why had he done it in the patient room at the in vitro
center? Impulse, probably, pure and animalistic. My God, those
panties! He didn’t want to come across as crude, but a woman like Jessika
in panties like that could make even a steadfast priest rescind his vows.
The lace and frills, a cute and tantalizing facade for the sexiness
beneath. He was, perhaps, a complete sucker for the illusion of innocence.
Jessika was anything but that, though.

Or, more precisely, she was innocent, but not in a
usual way. She was curious and insightful and interesting. He loved
that about her. She didn’t just want to know, she needed to know.
And he was fairly certain that she’d done all of that on purpose. That
didn’t forgive him for what he did, but he accepted it for what it was.
She wanted to know what happened if she tempted him? Well, for any other
person he could resist temptation, but there was something about Jessika that
ruined his resolve.

It hurt, though. Afterwards, talking with
Beatrice in the patient room, he felt a distinct pang of regret. And
arousal. Just a few minutes earlier he’d taken Jessika upon the very
table on which he now sat. His imagination created evidence out of
nothing, concocting an obvious wet spot on the table and convincing him that
Beatrice was spending far too much time staring at the trash can. He
didn’t actually think she looked at the trash can more than once, and only with
vague disinterest, but…

“Asher,” Beatrice said. “I really
think we should find another doctor. I don’t think this place has the
right amount of prestige for our liking.”

He sighed. “There’s no place better.
Doctor Fairheart is one of the best, too. She has a very high success
rate with this and she knows what she’s doing. I did my research and she
answered my questions satisfactorily when I spoke with her on the phone the
other day. It was just a fluke with the lock. It’s nothing to worry
about.”

“But her
tone
,” Beatrice said.
“She’s so… so… uncouth!”

Asher laughed. “I’m sure you’d like her if
you got to know her. Shall I invite her to dinner? That might be
nice, don’t you think? Jeremy can join us, and Jessika, of course.”

“Ugh. Please don’t even joke about
that. The next thing you’re going to suggest is we all gather in the
living room and watch a movie together while eating pizza.”

“That would be nice,” Asher said, thinking
back to when he’d done that exact thing with Jessika just a few nights past.

“Why can’t you be serious?” Beatrice
asked. She furrowed her brow and glared at him. “Maybe I’m
overexaggerating a tiny bit, but I still don’t know if we can trust her.
I just wish you’d be more serious, though. This is a very serious
procedure and a life-changing event. Do you want to have some child with
severe deformities? I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t handle
it. I just couldn’t.”

…

With the doctor’s visit behind me, and Beatrice
apparently calmed down enough to have a normal conversation, the rest of the
day passed uneventfully. I went back with Jeremy to Asher’s guest
house. Beatrice and Asher went to the main house, presumably to talk or
something. How should I know? I was glad to be away from her, since
it gave me time to think and it made me less nervous.

“So, sounds like you had a great time,”
Jeremy said.

I rolled my eyes while he grinned at me.
“Why is she like that?”

“Couldn’t say.” Jeremy shrugged.
“I guess she’s always been that way? She’s the kind of rich person
that you can tell is a rich person, because she won’t let you think
otherwise. Asher’s kind of obvious when he suits up, trying to look nice
for business, but otherwise you probably couldn’t tell. Like when he
plays basketball he just looks regular, you know? Beatrice never wants to
even consider
being
regular, let alone looking it. That’s just how
she is.”

“I guess I can understand,” I said.
“I mean, I don’t really understand it, but maybe if I were rich I’d
understand better. I suppose when you have the money, you can do whatever
you like. Not that it’s right, but why should she care? She’s
rich.”

“Right. Yeah, that might be it.”

I sighed and fell onto the couch, staring at the
ceiling. “I want some cheesecake,” I said, completely out of
the blue.

“Oh yeah?” Jeremy asked.

“Yes. Caramel pecan turtle cheesecake like
they have at The Cheesecake Factory sometimes. Mmmmm…”

“You want to go?”

“…with the chocolate icing swirls on the edge
and the lines of caramel drizzled on the top and…”

“Look, lady, you want to go get some food or
what? I’m starving over here after driving some chick around all day and
I could go for a bite to eat.”

“Did you just call me a chick?” I asked.

“If the shoe fits.”

“What kind of shoe does a chick even wear?
Are we talking about a baby chicken or are you being some chauvinist
pig?” I couldn’t help but grin, even though I tried to say
everything as serious as possible.