Healing Touch: Play Doctor, Book 2 (31 page)

“This is amazing.” Kurt was lost to his own wonder. “I can unfurl my fingers. So soft. So wet. So hot.”

Becca didn’t need much more encouragement. Her eyes flew open, meeting her husband’s stare. And just like that, she raised their orgasm count to nine.

Kurt didn’t seem very far behind. He held off long enough to extricate himself, causing Becca the least amount of discomfort possible as she continued to come in loud, erratic waves of rapture.

Her husband wrapped his saturated hand around his cock and began to stroke. He kissed Becca’s belly between the restraints then allowed her to float undisturbed in subspace.

The thick shaft inside Brielle began to trigger early warning signs.

“Don’t fight that on my account.” Luke managed phrases and fragments as opposed to the whole sentence at once. When he began to tremble behind her, she took mercy. The instant his fingers scissored open in her ass, she relented.

Ecstasy slammed through her with every beat of her heart. She couldn’t wait to see how much better sex could be when she allowed Luke to tie her up and use her. Because she knew now, without a doubt, that day was coming.

And she could hardly stand the wait, knowing how good it could be.

Nothing legal should be better than this.

Then again some of the things they attempted could very well violate state laws. She didn’t give a shit.

Luke wrapped her hair around his wrist, pulled it enough that she relented and tipped her head back so he could study her face as he exploded inside her. A series of grunts accompanied his jerky, nearly violent thrusts.

Never once was she frightened.

No, she was grateful.

For him.

And his friends.

Before thinking, Brielle reached out to Kurt. He lifted his gaze to Becca, who nodded. With permission, he stepped into Brielle’s grasp.

Luke’s orgasm seemed to escalate instead of fade when she began to jerk his best friend. It didn’t take much. She’d hardly measured Kurt’s longer, thinner cock against Luke’s when the shaft grew more defined and steely in her grasp.

“He’s close,” she groaned as Luke began to curl over her, his muscles finally relaxing after jettisoning his third load of come.

“Want some help?” Luke kissed her temple.

“Sure.” She nodded, expecting pointers.

Instead, her boyfriend reached over and rolled Kurt’s balls around the palm of his hand while she handled Dr. Foster’s erection.

Kurt’s face turned nearly purple as he coiled then sprung. Gushes of come oozed from the tip of his erection, glazing her fingers, as well as Luke’s. He clamped on to the examination table to keep upright.

“That’s enough to give a man a heart attack.” Kurt allowed Luke to impart one last tweak before he retreated. He tended to his wife before cleaning himself.

For quite a while, each couple concentrated on their growing bond.

After tidying them up, Luke brought her clothes over and began to dress her. Meanwhile, Kurt freed Becca, who seemed nearly incoherent.

Brielle tried to help Luke, but her utterly relaxed body wouldn’t obey her silent commands. He didn’t need her assistance. Soon they both were ready to go.

Kurt hugged her tight before pulling away with a wink. “You’re my second favorite patient of all time.”

“Damn straight.” Becca grinned.

She yawned before shaking her head as if to gather herself.

“So, Tuesday is Elsa’s birthday. We’re having something really low key at our house. You know, dinner and some Hostess cupcakes with candles on them.” She winced. “It’s a crazy week with the seminar we’re hosting on Dream Machine research. Anyway, I thought it might be nice if you came. If you’d like. You know, with Luke.”

“Uh, I guess that’s up to him.” Brielle peeked up at the golden guy beside her.

“Of course I’d like you to be my date. I mean, that’s what girlfriends do, you know? They attend
boring
family events.” He scrunched his nose. “Don’t leave me alone in Elsa’s clutches. Are you crazy?”

“You tell me. You’re the expert.” She tried not to flinch.

“Hey, now. None of that.” Luke, Kurt and Becca all keyed in to her momentary doubt.

Their intensity dared her to disagree. To doubt the experiences they’d shared over the past two days.

“Fine. I’d love to join you.” She paused. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?” Becca raised her brows.

“I’m making the cake. A real one. What’s her favorite kind?” Brielle asked.

“I vote for vanilla with pudding between the layers and lots of sprinkles in the icing. Blue frosting,” Luke answered immediately.

Brielle laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind for your birthday. Which is?”

“Not until March. Fuck.” He pouted.

“We’ll pretend one night.” She patted his butt. “But, no, seriously. What does she like?”

Becca paused to think about it. “Fruity crap. Is that too hard?”

“Nope. I can work with that.” Being useful alleviated a lot of Brielle’s concerns about attending with Luke. She didn’t plan to freeload on his friends.

“You’re a lifesaver.” Becca hugged her. “Thank you so much.”

“No, thank
you
.” Brielle swallowed the lump in her throat. “For everything.”

“Our pleasure,” Kurt answered for them both. “Literally.”

Chapter Twenty

Brielle piped whipped topping from a Ziploc baggie with the corner snipped off. She formed a decorative edge around the base of Elsa’s cake. The low-cost improvisation was one of many she employed to make her treats budget-friendly. As she worked, an idea formed in her mind.

Why not start a food blog? One aimed at thrifty meals. She could cook, take pictures of her creations and share tips she’d picked up along the way. Maybe her experiments could help someone else out. And it’d be a fun side project until culinary school was a possibility. She’d heard success stories of people making a living doing things they loved like that. Being her own boss sounded like heaven. Maybe a self-published cookbook could be the way to go.

Smiling, she sliced fresh fruit to garnish the top of the cake. Pretty patterns of blueberries, strawberries, kiwi and mango emerged in a riot of color and flavor. She popped a slice of leftover mango into her mouth and hoped the bus ride over to Kurt and Becca’s place wouldn’t ruin her efforts.

Luke had offered to pick her up, but in addition to being out of his way on the route between his office and his friends’ home, she couldn’t imagine a trip on a motorcycle ending well for her present. She’d worked too hard for it to smoosh against the plastic carrying container she locked the lid on.

Still, she wondered when he’d had time to slip the note beneath her door.

See you tonight.

Butterflies winged around her stomach as she thought of just how much she’d revealed. Exposed and eager, she loved how much she could show him of herself. Everything. Trusting him had been the right decision. She was positive.

Brielle checked the oven clock. Still a few minutes to spare. So she skipped to the bathroom, touched up a couple of the gentle curves in her hair, reapplied her lip gloss and double-checked her dress in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.

The tiered lavender lace of the vintage find from a secondhand shop floated around her.

Not too shabby.

Brielle hummed to herself—one of the standards she’d danced to with Luke last week—as she collected her purse and the angel food. She took the stairs slowly in the heels she’d picked up to match the dress. Becca had it right, they made her feel powerful—sexy, confident and pretty.

At the ground floor, she emerged into the dusk. She thought she caught motion out of the corner of her eye, but when she glanced in that direction, one of the frisky squirrels twitched his tail at her as though annoyed. She’d disturbed it from absconding with the apple core he had scavenged. “I’m not going to bother you, little guy. Go ahead, take your dinner.”

He scampered across the sidewalk before she continued.

At the bus stop, three college guys waited. She recognized one of them from her usual route. Before Luke, she might have thought him handsome. No one could compare to the standard her boyfriend had set. Feeling bold, she decided it was time to stop playing the meek mouse. “Good evening.”

“Hi.” He smiled. “I always wondered where you disappear to. Never see you out at the bars or the pool or anything. I’m Jack, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you officially. Brielle. I’m not much of a partier. Usually. But I’m actually on my way to my boyfriend’s friends’ house tonight.” The truth still startled and awed her a bit.

“Ah, damn. So there’s no point in giving you my number?” He seemed genuinely disappointed.

“If you’d asked a few weeks ago, I’d probably have said yes.” No reason to hurt his feelings.

“I guess that’s a good life lesson, huh?” The headlights of the bus swung in their direction, casting ghastly shadows. She was glad he had been there to chat with. Being outside at night gave her the willies. “So is it a potluck?”

“Actually, it’s a birthday thing.” Brielle held the frosted container up so he could get a better look as the bus’s air brake hissed and a couple of other people climbed on ahead of them.

“Damn, that looks great. I really messed up.” He laughed, his regret the kind that would fade after his first beer and the next pretty girl he met at the bar tonight.

She sat in the seat across from him, happy to have his company as her foot tapped on the rubber floor of the bus. This was like a real date. Going to Luke’s closest friends’ house for a family party.

Ironing imaginary wrinkles with her palm must have been obvious.

“Don’t worry, your guy is going to love that dress.” Jack grinned. “And if he doesn’t, just find me on the bus tomorrow.”

Brielle laughed. “Will do, thanks. I think my stop is next. Good luck out there tonight.”

A guy with a dark hoodie and baseball hat waited at the rear door. His face angled down, hands jammed in his pockets, making him seem miserable. Negative energy radiated off him, encouraging her to wind through the aisle to the front exit.

“Have a good night, Kevin.” She smiled at the driver when she stepped onto the curb.

“You too, Ms. Norris.” He warned her, “Careful out here in the dark. Aren’t so many people around as at your place.”

“Should only make it safer, right?” Brielle blew off his concern. She had less than two blocks to go to reach her destination. “See you tomorrow.”

“’Night.” He shut the doors behind her and pulled away. When the lights from the bus faded, she was surprised at how dark it was. But the moon was pretty and so were the stars, which she never could see from her place closer to the heart of the city.

Her heels clicked on the poured concrete sidewalk in the newer district. One of Kurt’s neighbors was out watering plants. She smiled and said hello as she dodged the rivulets he made. The guy from the bus trailed behind her, not passing despite her careful progress in her unfamiliar footwear.

By the time she crossed the street, goose bumps rose on her arms. She could see Kurt and Becca’s home just five or six houses away now. Picking up the pace, she imagined the light and love inside those walls.

“Where you going, Brielle?” The voice behind her froze her heart. It couldn’t be him. “Thought I’d never get you alone.”

Panic cost her precious seconds. She should have run. She should have screamed. Anything. But all that happened was a whole lot of nothing.

Until Brad grabbed her shoulder and shook her. “What the hell did you mean you were going to your
boyfriend’s
house? Are you cheating on me?”

“We’re through. I’m not doing anything to you.” Brielle’s gaze darted around, hoping for another neighbor with a green thumb, but even the first had gone inside now. Probably for the best, she didn’t want to cause a scene that would look bad on the Fosters. “Now get the hell away from me.”

“I don’t think so.” He reached for her again and she dodged.

Adrenaline kicked in big time. She surged forward, still clutching her gift. Trotting, she aimed for the sanctuary just out of range.

“I’m not going to ask nicely anymore.” Holy crap, had he always been such a brute? How had she not seen it?

The street was illuminated by headlights from a car that approached slowly. Thank God. Brielle waved her free arm, trying to get the driver’s attention.

“You want to say hello to Lisa?” Brad cackled. “She’s tired of doing the housework and she can’t cook worth shit. So I told her I’d take it out on that brat of hers if she didn’t help with this. Thought maybe you should come back and take care of your responsibilities. We won’t even make you ride the bus. Have a nice spot for you in the back of the van.”

“You really are fucking nuts.” Antagonizing him might not have been wise, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Come now and I won’t have to punish you. Make me chase you and you’ll stay in that closet for a year, I swear.”

Instead of paralyzing fear, rage bubbled to the surface, filling her with a lifetime of anger all at once.