The Procedure (10 page)

THINGS WERE SHIFTING
, and it was up to me to keep that from happening. I thought that maybe it was time I started dating again. Whatever it took to keep my head in the game and my eyes off Samantha’s chest as she jogged next to me.

This wasn’t who I was. I wasn’t that guy. I was always able to look past the women who threw themselves at me, why couldn’t I do the same with a woman who was very obviously in love with her no-good husband?

I’d made a promise to her and I’d stick with it, but things were getting harder and harder when it came to her. I was seeing her in a new light. I’d already found her attractive, but seeing her playful and happy with a radiant smile on her face was like a punch to the gut.

I shouldn’t have accepted her offer for lunch, but I wasn’t ready to be away from her. I didn’t want to think about what that said about me. I was a gentleman, through and through, and I knew I’d never act on my thoughts, but it sickened me that I couldn’t control my thoughts.

Cracking open my chocolate ball, my eyes stayed glued to Samantha’s mouth as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the piece of chocolate like it was orgasmic. I felt myself harden under the table. Instantly, I wanted to ask her forgiveness. I felt dirty and disgusted with myself.

Looking down at the fortune in my hand didn’t help matters.

What you want is right in front of you. Just take it.

Clearly, the universe was out to get me.

MY MOTHER LOVED
to dance. I had memories of her slinging me and my little sister, Rachel, around the family room with a happy smile and laughter. It was one of my better memories, which was why when it came to finding something else that would bring Samantha confidence and happiness, I thought of dancing. Ballroom dancing to be exact.

I had her meet me at the top dance studio in Miami Thursday afternoon, and when she walked in, wearing a flirty, knee-length dress and heels that made her calves pop and her ass do things to my head, I had to look away.

She smiled at me as she made her way across the shining, hardwood floor to my side of the room.

“How did you know?” she asked, her face flushed with happiness and her eyes sparkling.

I’d done that. I’d put that happiness there. If I had to step away tomorrow because I was getting too close, I’d walk away knowing that I’d done that.

“How did I know what?”

“I added dancing to my bucket list,” she said, slipping her light jacket from her body and revealing a pair of beautifully sun-kissed shoulders. They begged to be touched—begged for my kisses.

Clearing my dry throat, I looked away. “I thought you didn’t have bucket list.”

I knew I sounded grizzly and rude, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was my defense—the only thing keeping me on my feet when I suddenly had the desire to sink to my knees in front of her.

“Well, thanks to you, I started one. Ballroom dancing is number four.”

I wanted to know what one through three were, but I didn’t have time to ask before Ms. Bright, the dance instructor, was pulling us onto the floor.

We were pushed together, my hand resting on her lower back, her tiny hand in mine, while the other rested on my shoulder. Heat from her body moved across my chest and the sweet smell of her skin enveloped me. It was that exact moment that I realized what I total git I’d been for picking something that would force us to be close. Perhaps in the deepest recesses of my mind, I’d known of the closeness. I’d longed for it.

The music started, and Ms. Bright called out orders like a tiny drill sergeant. Soon, Samantha and I moved across the room as if we’d danced together many times. I led her around the floor, my eyes focused on hers, and it was as if nothing else existed. She wasn’t my patient, and she definitely wasn’t married. She was just Samantha, I was just Roman, and we were just dancing.

“Very good,” Ms. Bright said in her Spanish flare. “What a lovely couple you two make.”

Samantha pinched her lips together to keep from laughing as she looked up at me with her dark, mysterious eyes. I didn’t bother correcting the teacher. I was too caught up in the feel of her so close to me.

“This is everything I’d hoped it would be,” Samantha said as I spun her, getting her hair caught on my wrist.

We weren’t the best in the room by far, but we were making it work.

“Why didn’t you ever go if it’s what you wanted?” I asked, even though I was sure I already knew the answer.

“Michael was always too shy when I mentioned it, and then, he just never had the time. Still doesn’t.” Her smile slipped, and I mentally kicked myself for asking.

Reaching up, I smoothed away a soft strand of her hair. “You look really beautiful today, Samantha.” I lavished her with a compliment and was rewarded with another heart-stopping smile.

“Thank you, Roman. You look pretty good yourself,” she said playfully.

She spoke as if we were rehearsing lines, as if what I’d said was only said because of our situation and my trying to build her confidence.

I wanted her to know I
meant
what I said. And not only for my own selfish reasons, but because they were
true.
I meant every word, and it was important that she believed them, too. Not for me, but for herself. She needed to know that she was beautiful and charming.

“Samantha.” Her name rushed from my lips in a whisper that I didn’t think she would hear over the music.

She was staring down at our feet, but she looked up when I said her name. As soon as she did, I felt her small foot step on mine.

“Oh my God, Roman!” Her face flushed, and she looked up at me with complete dread in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Not in the slightest.”

“I’m not a very good dancer.”

“I’m not a very good singer, but that doesn’t stop me from singing my favorite songs out loud. You’ll learn, and if you’re still stepping on my toes, we’ll just have to dance like that for the rest of the classes.”

She laughed, and I loved the sound. It was uplifting and sweet. Sweeter than the soft music that blasted from the speakers. More beautiful than any definition of beauty.

“Were you going to tell me something?”

“Huh? Oh, right, yes.”

Suddenly, what I was going to tell her didn’t seem to fit into the conversation anymore. I didn’t know how to bring it back up, but it was important that she know. Taking a deep breath, I started.

“I meant what I said.”

A small frown creased between her brows with her confusion. “About the dancing?”

I shook my head. “No, about you being beautiful.”

Her smile faded slightly, and she didn’t say anything right away as she stared into my eyes. I wanted to know what she was thinking—what she was feeling. Wondering if maybe, just maybe, she was feeling and thinking exactly what I was. I wanted to ask her, but she spoke before I had a chance to ask.

“It’s easy for me to believe that when I’m with you. I’m different with you, Roman. You make me different.”

“No, I don’t. I just show you how I see you, and I treat you how every woman should be treated. I respect your mind, and I think your words matter. I not only find you beautiful, but I find your heart and compassion beautiful, too.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes, but I knew I hadn’t upset her. I had managed to touch a part of her that every woman wanted to be touched. Her soul. It was deep inside—locked in a box covered by emotions—and somehow, my words were able to penetrate that shield. It made me happy when I saw from her expression that the tear that slipped down her cheek wasn’t one of sadness, but one of sweetness and feeling.

“I wish…” She took a deep breath, and her sentence faded.

“What?” I asked, tightening my grip on her and bringing her closer to me.

I longed for her words as if they were my next breath.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen!’ the instructor interrupted loudly. She clapped her hands and demolished the moment between Samantha and me. “Let’s switch it up a little.”

We blinked, taking a step back from each other, and she was the first to look away.

We danced hand in hand for an hour, and I spent that time trying to control my body and its reactions to Samantha. Once the class was over, I gathered my jacket and prepared to go back to the office. My body was strung tight after holding her so close for so long, but I couldn’t let it get to me. Regardless of what I’d been thinking, the truth still remained. I was a doctor—she was my patient. My very
married
patient.

I got into my car, thinking it was time I stopped seeing Samantha so much. Maybe go back to the once or twice a week thing. It seemed that since we’d started this, I was seeing her almost every day. It was starting to get to me.

Those thoughts didn’t stop me from picking up my phone and texting her.

Me:
The Palm Bar and Lounge. Tomorrow night. 9pm.

Samantha:
Yes, Dr. Roman.

What could I say? I was a masochist.

WHEN FRIDAY NIGHT
came around, I was nervous. I knew bringing Samantha around my friends wasn’t a great idea, but she’d said herself that she didn’t have any. She needed to be more social—step out with a crowd and laugh… maybe have a few drinks. She needed a night out.

I waited at the bar across the room from the group I’d came with and waited for the bartender to serve me the drink I’d ordered. Looking down at my watch, I was nervous when I saw that it was almost ten. Samantha was almost an hour late, and I was beginning to worry that something might have happened to her.

Tipping the bartender, I took my drink when she handed it over and turned to go back towards the table we were sitting at. It was then that I saw her. She was wearing a strappy, black dress that touched her knees. A slit worked its way up the bottom of her skirt and when she moved, a tiny hint of her thigh and garter showed.

My body tightened everywhere as my eyes moved down her long, curvy legs to the tip of her stilettos. She was amazing. Beautiful. Sexy. As she looked around the room, she bit nervously at her ruby-red bottom lip and instantly, I imagined doing the same, nibbling on her lip and tasting her.

Her dark eyes met mine from across the room, and she smiled in relief. I lifted my drink and waved her over toward the bar. Eyes turned her way as she moved across the crowded room. Guys admired her body and leaned their heads to the side to catch a glimpse of her ass as she walked by. She had no clue what she did to the males in the room, but I knew. I definitely knew as I adjusted my pants and took a seat on a barstool.

“What will you have?” I asked over the music when she got to my side.

“I’d like to try a beer,” she said with smile.

Turning away, I ordered her a beer and tried to think of anything that took the mental image of Samantha naked in my bed away.

I HADN’T BEEN
out on the town since I was a teenager—since before Michael. He wasn’t one for dancing and drinking. Actually, he wasn’t one for fun, unless of course, it included a bimbo on his lap.

I didn’t picture Roman as a man who drank beer, but once he handed me a longneck bottle, it was too late to change my mind. The bottle was cold, stinging my palm and chilling my lips. At first, the taste was unbearable. The bubbles rolled across my tongue, filling my mouth with the bitter flavor, but I continued to take them as Roman handed them over. After the first one, I didn’t even notice the taste anymore.

He introduced me to the small group of friends he’d came with, two of them being women who were obviously head over heels for Roman. I didn’t say anything about it since I didn’t want to know if he was seeing either of them. I wasn’t sure when his dating life started to matter, but it wasn’t something I had any right to dwell over.

After spending the day before in his arms, I knew I had to take a step back. When I got his text telling me to meet him the following night, I was so close to saying no. But then the memories of Michael and the blonde rushed into my mind and I knew that no matter how badly my body and mind was responding to Roman, I had to stay the course. I had to save my marriage.

The two women, Laurie and Sarah, were attractive. Laurie was blonde and tall. Her legs looked amazing in her pencil skirt. Sarah was shorter with jet-black hair and big, pouty lips. I was jealous of several parts of their bodies, but once I caught Roman staring at me from across the table, all the jealousy wafted away.

The gentlemen in the group, Chase, Gregg, and Marshall, were all colleagues of Roman’s. Apparently, everyone at the table was a doctor of some sort except for me. It was very intimidating to be surrounded by such smart people. Still, they were fun and talkative—asking questions and keeping me thoroughly entertained.

As the night moved along, Roman’s eyes grew glassy, his cheeks flushing as if he’d had too much to drink. Still, he was ever the gentleman. Carefully ushering me around the room with his hand on the small of my back. Pulling out chairs for me and the girls who were with us. It was something I loved about him. Something I hoped Michael would one day do.

Plucking the beer from my hand, he smiled down at me. “I think it’s time we take you out of your comfort zone.”

I laughed. I was starting to feel a tiny buzz around me. “I’m pretty sure I left my comfort zone when I walked through the doors.”

“I think not. Come on.” He wrapped his warm hand around mine, sending goose bumps up my arm, and pulled me toward the side of the room with the tiny stage.

“No, Roman!” I laughed when I saw the karaoke set up. “I refuse.”

Turning, he cupped my cheeks as if he were about to kiss me. Excitement filled his eyes, showing me a totally different side of the doctor, and then he smiled. “I helped you knock something off your bucket list, and you won’t help me with one of mine?”

He was giving me a guilt trip, and it was the cutest thing ever.

“Singing karaoke is on your bucket list?” I asked.

I was having a hard time focusing with his hands touching my face the way they were, but I didn’t want to be rude and pull away. Plus, I liked the feel of his warm palms against my cheeks. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine him leaning down and kissing me softly.

He pulled his hands away from my face as if realizing he’d been touching me for so long, and then he turned toward the stage. “Well, not really. I’ve sang karaoke before, but the point is, you haven’t. Please, Samantha.”

And that was all it took. The look in his glazed eyes. The alcohol on his breath that I could practically taste he was so close. I wasn’t sure if it was the beer or Roman that made me so drunk on life at the moment. All I know is we ended up on stage in front of the entire place singing a really bad rendition of a Bon Jovi song, and I loved every minute of it.

Later, as the night began to wear down, I switched from beer and shots with the group to water. My car was outside and if I didn’t sober up some, I was going to have to call a cab. Not to mention, Roman was pretty buzzed too, and for once, I wanted to take care of him. He would need a ride home, and I wanted to be that ride. I giggled to myself with that thought, drawing Roman’s attention.

He moved closer to me, his hand resting on my knee, making me jump.

“You know what,” he slurred in my ear. “I know you think you’ve been the one holding Michael back, but the truth is, he holds you back. Think of all the things you could have done or could be doing if he just tried a little to make you happy. If for once he did something you wanted to do.”

He’d never spoken about Michael the way he was. As far as I knew, Roman was making me better for Michael, yet there he was, saying I wasn’t the problem. I couldn’t help but kind of agree.

“I know. It’s been so long since I’ve had as much fun as I have with you.”

The words came out wrong. I accidently made them sound as if we were dating or something, and that definitely wasn’t the case. Heat filled my cheeks, and I turned away to take a sip of my water to cool my heated throat.

The room around us was a haze of blurry bodies and music that I wasn’t paying any attention to. Laurie and Sarah had excused themselves earlier in the night, leaving me as the only female in the group.

“Doesn’t he take you out at all?” Roman asked, leaning even closer.

Our conversation was quiet in the corner, and it was personal. So personal in fact that I felt as if the walls were moving in.

Again, I sipped at my water. Shaking my head, I set the glass down and rolled the straw between my two fingers. When I looked up, Roman was staring at my lips as if he were ready to lick the moisture from them. I took a deep breath and tried to turn my thoughts back toward Michael.

“Michael doesn’t do
anything
with me anymore.” I turned away. “Much less take me on dates.”

His warm fingers heated my chin as he turned me to face him again. He was so close. So warm. So perfect.

“Anything?” he asked. His eyes were pinned to my mouth.

I turned away, missing his touch from my face immediately. “No.”

And then I felt his hand cover mine on the table, and I couldn’t help but turn and face him. His eyes devoured mine before they moved down my face, landing on my lips once more.

“Michael is a stupid, stupid man, Samantha.”

And then he broke the spell when he moved away, grabbed his beer, and took a deep swig.

WE SHUT THE
bar down and left at two in the morning. I was still a little fuzzy, but I knew I could get myself home okay. It was Roman I was worried about.

I pulled out my keys as we exited the bar and turned to face him. “I’m giving you a ride home. You’re drunk.”

“You’re right. I’m thoroughly pissed, but I have to decline the ride. Also, you’re not driving home.”

As if we were in a movie and it was given its cue, a fancy, black town car pulled up in front of us. An older man stepped out, opening the back door for us. I hadn’t expected Roman to have a driver since he was always in his sports car, but at least he thought ahead and had the sense to know he would be drinking tonight.

I nodded and dropped my keys back into my purse before I climbed into the car. Roman moved in after me, his thigh pressing against mine. I kept my mind on Michael the entire time, not giving myself time to analyze what it felt like to be so close to such a masculine man. Roman was big, and he always smelled so good. It was becoming harder and harder to
not
notice these things about him.

I tried to remember what it was we were doing together, but then he’d shift and his own personal scent would move toward me. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Even though I was very married and very much in love with Michael, I was physically attracted to Roman. I had been from the start.

“Did you have fun tonight?” he asked from his dark corner.

His voice was deeper, and I could tell by the way he sounded that he was facing me—watching me. I liked it. His eyes on me made me feel sexy—beautiful. I knew that his pretty compliments were a part of the procedure, but somehow, his words managed to move into my brain. I felt desirable when I was with Roman, and it was a turn on for me.

“I did.”

I clenched my thighs together, enjoying the feel of my lace panties and trying my hardest not to think about the man next to me. I was so broken. Michael had made sure of that over the years. There I was with a man, trying to get help to make my marriage better, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about what he would feel like between my legs.

Then something snapped. Everything rushed on me. Maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that I’d finally hit my breaking point, but everything pressed against my chest, bringing tears to my eyes. So much had happened. So much was happening, and I wasn’t sure who I was anymore.

The girl I was with Michael wasn’t the same woman I was when I was with Roman. In the back of my mind, I knew which me I liked more, but it was wrong to like that side more.

A tear moved down my cheek as I thought about the last few months. Finding Michael with another woman. Losing my father, the only person who ever really cared about me. And honestly, the tears felt good.

I thought I was being quiet about it in my corner of the car, and I thought Roman wouldn’t see my tears since the car was dark, but suddenly, he was there and his arms were around me. His warmth moved through me, sending a soothing calm through my bones.

Just a few weeks ago, Roman was a total stranger to me, but now I felt closer to him than I had to anyone else in a long time.

“It’s okay. Let it out,” he said as he rubbed my back in circles. The professional stepped back in, pushing the drunk, fun man he was on the back burner.

Backing away, I swiped quickly at my face. His thick fingers followed my hands, wiping what remained. For such large fingers, they were soft. I wanted to close my eyes and lean into his touch.

“Thank you,” I said through my clogged throat. “I needed tonight.”

His throat worked up and down as he swallowed hard and again, his fingers moved over my cheeks softly. His fingertips moved across my lips, and I gasped at the sensation that pulled low in my stomach. I closed my eyes to enjoy his touch before he pulled his hand away.

“Forgive me,” he said sweetly.

He was such a gentleman. It was a nice change from the smartass I lived with. “For what?” I asked. He’d been nothing but nice to me. Forgiveness was the last thing he needed.

“I shouldn’t touch you that way. It won’t happen again.”

Already I missed his touch and even though I knew the words were wrong, I couldn’t stop them. “I like it.”

Again, the car around us got quiet as we sat there. The screen was up, blocking us from the driver, and I thought maybe it would be smart to let it down so I had no choice but to control myself. But then his big hands moved to cradle my face, his thumb stroking the soft skin beneath my eye.

“Samantha, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re such a beautiful woman, inside and out, and like I said before, I think your husband is an idiot.”

Looking down, I chuckled a bit. “You’re my doctor. You kind of have to say that.”

Clearing his throat, he dropped his hands from my face, and I felt the loss of his heat. “Actually, I shouldn’t say those things
because
I’m your doctor. That wasn’t the professional in me speaking—that was the man.”

I understood he’d had too much to drink, but his words still moved down into my core, sealing a few of the broken parts that Michael had destroyed. And while I wasn’t a very brazen woman, something inside of me clicked. Roman was saying and doing everything I’d needed for the last few years, and it felt amazing. Hell, just the way he was looking at me was enough. I couldn’t stop myself.

Leaning over, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face down. My lips grazed his once, hot breath from his nose coating my cheek, before I went in for the kill and pressed myself to him. His lips warmed mine, but he didn’t kiss me back—not at first anyway.

Once I pressed closer, he wrapped his arms around me, his hands gripping the back of my dress, and he kissed me back. I opened for him. His tongue danced with mine, sending sparks of fire down my body and making me throb between my thighs. Our breathing picked up, and a manly growl escaped his mouth into mine.

Climbing him, I tried to get closer. I was out of control. My body’s response was a surprise to me. Never had I felt so wild and out of control with Michael. Reaching up my dress, he grabbed my hips, pulling me down onto him harder. He thrust between my legs, his erection shocking me and pressing against the spot that yearned for him.

Pulling away, I sucked in a breath and released a moan. And then, everything stopped. As if waking from a dream, he sat me abruptly to the side and moved away from me, his body pressing into the door on his side.

His hand went to his mouth to wipe away my kisses, and he looked down at his palm as if the traces of me would be visible.

“Forgive me, Samantha.”