The Sex Surrogate (19 page)

“I
don't know. Care to tell
me
why
you're
so tense?”

A
look of surprise crossed his face, quickly covered by a smirk. “That
was... snippy.”

“Yes,
I have feelings other than anxiety, you know.”

“I'm
getting a picture,” he said, smiling wider. His shoulders eased
slightly, the muscle stopped ticking. “Jake on your nerves
again?”

“Jake's
been great actually,” I countered. It was true enough. He was
still leaving clothes all over and being obnoxious. Now he just
balanced it out with being a decent human being every once in a
while.

“Work
getting to you?”

“I
took off yesterday. And it was my manager's birthday today so all we
did was eat cake and gab.”

“You
took off yesterday? Were you sick?”

I
fought the urge to roll my eyes. “No. I just wanted a day off.”

“What
did you do?”

It
hadn't escaped my notice that I was still pressed against the door
and he hadn't walked out from behind the desk.

“I
ate enough gelato to feed a small village and watched TV with Jake.”
And saw my other shrink who told me I am projecting inappropriate,
misplaced feelings on you.

“Sounds
like a good day.”

“It
was much needed.”

“Are
you going to stand in the doorway all night?”

“Are
you going to stand behind the desk all night?” I shot back.

“Alright,
smartass,” he smiled, moving toward his office door instead of
toward me, “lets go get a drink.”

I
followed stiffly behind him, taking my station at the stereo. He
wanted a play list that matched my mood? Well, he could have it.
Then, coming out loud through the speakers, was a heavy dose of
female fronted metal music.

Chase's
brow raised as he mixed my drink, but said nothing. He handed me my
glass which I didn't even go through the pretense of sipping. I
gulped it down. He watched me, throwing back his drink in one shot as
well.

“I
get it,” he said, taking my drink, “you're in a mood.”
He brushed past me, going to the stereo and fiddling with it, “but
let's listen to something a little more appropriate for the session,”
he said, and some sensual r&b music started playing. “You
haven't asked what tonight's session is yet.”

“I
know.”

“Do
you want to know?” he asked, his brows scrunching together like
I wasn't making sense. I knew I wasn't.

But
I was too busy freaking out about my fake feelings for him to freak
out about what new sex act we were going to engage in. “Sure.”

“I
am going to go down on you. And you're going to go down on me.”

Oh.

Well.

I
should have seen that coming.

And
that was a dirty thought when I thought about it.

Oh,
my god. Seriously, what
was
wrong with me?

“Do
you know what that means?” he asked, looking at me like I was
daft.

“Yes.”

“Oral
sex.”

“I'm
aware.”

“Okay,
enough,” he said, shaking his head. “What's the matter?”

“I'm
fine.”

“No,
you're not.”

“Is
that your professional opinion?”

Oh,
shit.

That
was the wrong thing to say.

He
looked almost murderous for a moment before he pushed it away.

“Are
you having problems with this situation?” he said, gesturing
between us.

Just
big, fat, ugly, can't eat or sleep without you popping into my brain,
problems.

“I
think things are going pretty well.”

“That's
not what I asked, Ava. I want...” he trailed off, looking at
me. “Oh, fuck talking,” he said, grabbing me and slamming
his lips into mine. Hard. Full of all the frustration I had, no
doubt, been bringing about. His teeth bit into my lower lip hard,
making me open on a gasp and his tongue took the opportunity to slip
inside.

His
hands went up and under my sweater, running up my back, then
swiveling around to the front, up my belly, grabbing my breasts hard,
then slipping his hands into the cups and grabbing my nipples,
pinching and twisting until they were hardened points. Until all my
reservations fell away and there was only him. His touch. His lips.

He
pulled away suddenly, making me stumble humiliatingly forward, having
to put a hand on his chest to keep from falling into him. His hand
went up to my jaw, stroking across my lips. “There,” he
said, nodding. “That's better.”

Oh,
the bastard.

“Don't
think you can...” but the rest of my argument was muffled as he
dragged my sweater up and over my head, my arms trapped in the thick
material for a long moment before I got free again. “Listen...”

“Nope.”

“What?”

“No,
I'm not going to listen. I am going to take the rest of your clothes
off and bury my face in your pussy until you are screaming so loud
you forget all about being in this pissy ass mood.”

Whoa.

Well
then.

If
he put it that way.

And
he meant to make good on that because as soon as the words were out
of his mouth, I was out of my bra and his hands went to my waistband,
grabbing my pants and panties and tugging them down.

“Much
better,” he said, stepping back and taking me in. And I didn't
feel the urge to cover myself as his hungry eyes raked over me
slowly. “Get on the bed.”

Okay.

He
needed to stop being bossy.

Because
I was pretty sure I was liking it way too much.

“You're
still...” I started to object and he practically flew out of
his jacket and started tugging aggressively at his buttons, pulling
two off in the process. Naked from the waist up, he stopped.

“Now
get on the bed.”

Well.
Okay then.

I
got on the bed.

I
watched him, moving toward the foot of the bed, watching me, never
taking his eyes off. His hands went out suddenly, grabbing my ankles
and pushing them upward until my feet were flat on the bed. He moved
to rest his knees at the edge of the mattress, then reached up,
grabbing my hips and dragging me to the edge of the bed, my ass
almost falling off. My legs flailed out as I grabbed the sheets. He
grabbed my ankles again, taking them and placing them on his
shoulders.

And
I was completely exposed to him. And he was looking. Like... really
looking.

Then
his hands went up the insides of my thighs, pressing them further
open.

“Chase...”

“Shh,”
he said, glancing up at my face, then quickly away.

And
before I could draw breath to think about objecting, his head moved
forward and I felt his tongue slide up my slick cleft.

There
was no more objecting.

There
was no way I was going to fuck it up for myself.

No
way I was going to miss out on Dr. Chase fucking Hudson going down on
me like his god damn life depended on it.

His
tongue worked up and down for a long time, stroking near my clit but
never quite touching it. My hands fisted harder into the sheets, my
back arching, my hips rising toward him. His tongue moved back
downward, finding the entrance, curling in on itself, then thrusting
forward.

“Oh
my god,” I groaned, my hand slamming down on the back of his
head, holding him there just in case he decided he was going to try
to stop. He wasn't allowed to stop.

He
thrust in and out of me until my body felt hot and sweaty, until the
groans became choked begging. Then he withdrew, stroking upward and
pressing his tongue hard into my clit.

Everything
went fucking white.

My
body pulsated, my thighs slamming tight around his head as I cried
out his name over and over, until I felt drained. Until every last
thread of desire felt spent.

Chase
turned his head, kissing my inner thigh before rising his head to
look at me. “Fuck baby.”

I
patted the back of his head, too awestruck to think of talking.

“Hmm,”
he said, looking at me, “I don't think that quite cut it,”
he said, glancing back down between my legs.

I
found my voice.

“Chase...
I can't...”

“Well,
we'll just see about that, won't we?”

And
then we did.

And,
apparently, I could.

And
I screamed loud enough to forget all about my pissy ass mood.

“You
taste so sweet,” he said, sliding in beside me, pulling me
across his chest.

Nestled
in my little safe spot, I didn't care anymore. I didn't care if the
feelings were fake. That he just saw me as a client. I didn't care.
It didn't matter. All that mattered, like Chase had once told me, was
the moment. And the moment was good. The moment was as close to
perfect as I had ever known. I wasn't going to sabotage that for
myself. I was going to lay with him and enjoy it. Let the memory get
pressed into my skin so I could never forget it.

“You
okay?” he asked, all his tension seemingly evaporated.

“Mmmhmm,”
I murmured, kissing his chest.

“Little
come drunk, huh?”

“What?”
I asked, tilting my head up to look at him.

“Come
drunk. Orgasm drunk,” he explained like it was a phrase
everyone in the world knew but me.

I
giggled, laying back down on his chest. “I guess.”

“You
handled that a lot better than I thought you would.”

“Did
you expect me to start yelling and push you off?”

“Maybe.
Maybe something not so dramatic. I didn't think you would just...
enjoy yourself.”

“I
enjoyed you,” I corrected, biting my lip, hoping that wasn't
too wishy washy.

“That's
sweet,” he said, kissing my head. “God, you're like a
teensy little oven,” he said, kicking off the blankets and
sighing at the cooler air.

And
then I looked down, seeing his cock, hard, straining against the
material of his pants. My hand moved downward slowly. Very, very
slowly. Still a little more unsure than I cared to admit.

“Babe,”
he said, grabbing my wrist, “it's okay. We have all night. You
don't need to...”

“But
I want to,” I said, pushing up and looking down at him.

“
Fuck
me
,” he said,
bringing a hand up to the side of my face for a second. “You're
perfect just how you are, okay? Don't let anyone try to convince you
otherwise.” He paused. “Not even yourself.”

Oh,
the flood of warm and gushy that filled my chest and belly sure
felt
real right then.

I
gave him a small smile, leaning and pressing my lips to his, then
putting my leg on the other side of his body to straddle him so I
could kiss my way down like I had been thinking of doing. “Wait,”
he said, grabbing me. “Let a man enjoy the view for a second,”
he said, smiling. His hands moved up my belly, over my ribs, then
gently covered my breasts, running his thumbs over my nipples.
“Perfect,” he said again.

I
slid down his body, going down onto my forearms as I kissed his neck,
between his pecs, down the center of his abdominals, the muscles
jerking slightly underneath the contact. Chase reached down, taking
my hair and brushing it toward one side of my head, then holding it
in his hand, not pulling, just keeping it out of the way so he could
watch. My mouth reached his waistband and I pushed myself up to
balance on my knees as I worked his belt off, then unfastened his
slacks. My hands went underneath the waistband of them and his
underwear, pulling up and downward until they slid and revealed what
I was looking for.