Chapter 6 Max

• I can't believe my luck.
• No, shit. This just feels so damn good to be true.
• Just how many times have I dreamed of this? Theresa, flushed, tender and smiling behind my locked office door; her grip tight on my white doctor's coat? Theresa staring up at me like that, hot and hungry?
• Too many times to count. This is better, though. This is real.
• Never going to let her go after this. Once I taste her, she's mine.
• The sounds of the hospital float through the closed door—the calls of doctors and nurses, the beeping equipment, the recorded announcements—but in this room, we're safe in our own world. My pulse thumps in my ears as I kiss Theresa's cheek, her jaw, her throat, trailing my lips over her soft, heated skin.
• My knees crack as I lower myself down to kneel before the bench. Theresa hums, winding her fingers through my hair.
• "I can't believe this," she whispers.
• Her skirt rustles as her legs slide open wider. My eyes lock on the damp spot on her white panties. "Believe it," I tell her, because whole armies couldn't keep me from tasting her now.
• My palms settle on top of her thighs. Her muscles twitch beneath my touch, and she's already trembling.
• I've never done this before. Never fooled around at work; never chased after a younger woman. Never felt like I'd keel over dead if I don't feel this woman come on my tongue. Theresa remakes me; I'm brand new when I'm with her, and it's just as well.
• Been set in my ways for far too long. Been lonely for too long, waiting for the right woman and not understanding what was taking so long.
• This is worth it. She's worth the wait. I press a kiss to one knee, and I'm rewarded with a hiss. The bench groans as Theresa shuffles her hips closer to the edge.
• Yes. As I work my way up her thighs, kissing and stroking, this is what I've been craving: the heat of her body; her scent; her sighs. I'm burrowing my way to heaven.
• "Theresa." Her name gusts out of me, and I hook her white cotton panties to one side. She's slick and pink and swollen already, shaved except for a strip of trimmed dark blonde hair.
• Heaven.
• "Theresa." Do I even remember any other words? Does it matter? My knees dig into the floor as I lean forward.
• "I—Doc." Fingers tighten in my hair, tugging on the strands. "Oh my god. Oh, shit. That's—oh my god. There. Right there. Holy shit." My chatterbox breaks off with a weak laugh, and I grin against her slick folds. My tongue strokes along her slit, still teasing and exploring. Mapping my territory.
• I skate around the bundle of nerves, dipping down to her entrance. Not yet.
• "This is... oh, wow." Legs shift, calves draping over my shoulders, and heels dig into my back. "I've pictured this so many times, Dr Storm. Can't believe you're really down there."
• "Max," I say, my name muffled against her pussy, then slide both hands under her ass and squeeze. Two perfect handfuls. I knew it. "Call me Max."
• Theresa chuckles, urging me on with her heels. "Okay. Keep going... Max."
• No fear. Her salty-sweet taste is smeared over my cheeks and chin; her body twitches and trembles with every lick. I won't stop until Theresa is a wrung out mess, and even then she'll have to beg for mercy.
• Out there, the hospital tannoy crackles out another announcement. A medical cart trundles right past my office door.
• In here, our ragged breaths and the wet noises between Theresa's legs are the only sound.
• My jaw cracks. My tongue aches. I keep going, licking and sucking and nibbling, the examination bench creaking every time Theresa shifts her weight. The radiator gurgles to life against the wall, and it's a cold day but we don't need it. We're already steaming over the windows.
• "Theresa." I say her name like a prayer, pressing my face between her soft thighs. "Theresa. Fuck."
• She's whimpering, her hips twitching up in a stuttering rhythm.
• She's close. My girl is close. But maybe I can drag this out longer somehow—maybe I can steal a few more minutes—
• Theresa's thighs begin to shake, rattling the bench against the wall, and she lets out a broken wail. Oh, well. I grunt and press closer, lapping at her clit for all I'm worth.
• And feeling her heat... tasting the sweet rush of her release...
• I was right. Heaven.
• My legs are shaky as I push to my feet a minute later, fumbling at my belt. The cool air tickles against my slick mouth.
• Shouldn't rush her, but I'm not thinking straight. Can barely undo my own goddamn belt, my hands are shaking so hard, but Theresa leans forward and helps me, yanking on the leather strap.
• "Sorry," I pant, gripping her thighs so tight my fingertips go white. Fuck, I'm being such a caveman. Will my touch leave faint bruises tomorrow? Will she hate me for it? "Theresa, darling girl, I need—will you let me—?"
• She wrenches my pants open with a triumphant hiss before shuffling her ass closer. "Let you? Is that a joke?"
• Uh. No?
• But she's drawing my length from my boxers—setting the head against her entrance—
• I gulp down air, fighting with every last goddamn functioning brain cell to do this right. My body quakes with the effort of staying still. "Theresa. Look at me. Are you sure?"
• Pretty blue eyes glare at me, then roll skyward. Legs wrap around my waist, drawing me closer, and I hold my breath as I touch her slick heat... as I sink the first inch...
• "I'm sure," Theresa says in my ear, and when did my forehead drop onto her shoulder like this? My eyes are screwed shut, my hips pressing harder now, hungrier. I want in. "Take me, Dr Storm. Take everything, and don't you hold back."
• Jesus Christ.
• I will. I will.