River Walk: Ten Kinky Collaborations (8 page)

I feel his forced, warm breath brush across the tender flesh of my backend. Goose bumps spread along my skin, tightening from the annihilating chill sprinting up my back. He doesn’t touch my flaming backside, but his hands sweep over the plump mound, inches from my aching flesh. I know this without having to look. I sense him there, the heat radiating off his hands, deepened by the raw burn of my own skin.

“How do you feel, Miss Petrov?”

Turned-on, thrilled, alive, take your pick.

“I feel…good,” I answer truthfully, without giving too much of myself away.

“How would you rate your pain, on a scale from one to ten, now?”

“Six.”

“Six?” He hums, as if he’s contemplating my answer. “Is that all?”

“Yes, a six.”

“Thank you,” he says, marking it down. “You’re finished for today. You can get dressed now.”

He walks out of the room without another word, leaving me alone, cold. I change back into my clothes and try to make sense of what I just experienced. When I’m done, only one thought is truly clear. I want him.

As I exit the building, pondering my feelings, he calls out to me with that mind-blowing accent, “Miss Petrov.”

Is he seriously talking to me?
Did I do something wrong?

He strides up to me with a ghost of a smirk on his face, almost too faint to see.

“Did I forget something?” I inquire, my stomach buzzing with excitement.

“No, you’re fine.” He adjusts the strap of his leather messenger bag. “I was wondering if you’d allow me to walk you to your car.”

“Why?” My lip curls up, and I stare at him like I just smelled something terrible. I’m not trying to be rude. I genuinely don’t understand why he would offer.

He chuckles softly. “Cause it’s getting late and it’s not safe for you to walk around campus at night by yourself.”

“Oh.” I clear a chunk of hair from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear, but it’s too short and falls back in my face. “I didn’t bring my car here. I live in an apartment not far away, so I walked. Trying to be green and all that.”

“Well, then let me walk you to your flat.”

I don’t know if this is proper conduct, but if he’s willing to walk me, who am I to turn it down?

“Sure. That would be nice. Thank you.”

“Where do you live exactly?”

“It’s about a ten minute walk from here.”

We stroll quietly for about a hundred paces before he finally speaks, “What made you decide to participate in this study?”

I guess we’re going to talk shop. This guy really is all business.

“Honestly, I needed the money. I have school loans, and with the economy as it is, I’ve been finding it difficult to gain employment with decent enough pay. I currently work at a diner just to make ends meet.”

“So, your decision came from fiscal necessity.” He seems disappointed in my response. I don’t know what he was expecting me to say.

Oh, yeah, I just love getting my ass paddled by a perfect stranger.

“Why did you choose to head the research?”

He smirks a secret smile, as if there’s a joke only he’s privy to.

“For the sake of medicine, of course.”

We laugh together, though I’m not sure why I’m joining in. Somehow, I feel this is not his only reason either. When we hit a crosswalk, I notice how his hand moves to my upper back, guiding me quickly to the opposite corner.

“Are you from San Antonio?” he asks, removing his hand and leaving me feeling a little cold. I hadn’t realized how warm his touch made my body until it was gone.

“Yeah, I stayed here because of my mom.” I don’t really want to go into my entire family history, so I keep it vague in hopes he won’t probe further.

“Why would you need to stay here for your mum?”

Of course he couldn’t let it be. How could I be so stupid to think he wouldn’t actually want to know about me? Why can’t he be oblivious like other men?

I really do love his accent though. There’s something soothing and arousing about it, putting me at ease. Odd, considering only thirty minutes ago, he was giving my hide a serious tanning.

“She has a bad heart, and I knew my dad wouldn’t be able to take care of her by himself. I attended college here so I could stay close to her.”

“I see,” he says in a sullen tone.

“What about you? By that accent, I’m guessing you’re not from Texas.” I giggle and he smiles to himself.

“You’re certainly observant…and cheeky.”

“What can I say? It’s part of my charm.”

“Yes, it is,” he whispers, but I still catch it, feeling all warm and tingly on the inside. “I am from Chelsea. That would be the U.K.,” he clarifies with a lighthearted smirk.

“Well, thank goodness you told me. I never would have figured that out on my own.”

I know I’m really turning it on for him, but I can’t help it. I joke when I feel uncomfortable. Not that he’s the cause. I mean, he is, but not directly. Did I mention I ramble too?

We arrive at my apartment complex, and I stop at the double glass doors entering the lobby, feeling a sense of relief and sadness.

“Thank you for walking me home. That was very kind of you.” I smile up to him before turning around and opening the door.

“Petrov?”

“Yes?” I answer, glimpsing back at him. He looks like he wants to tell me something, but he’s struggling with himself.

He lets out a loud exhale. “Have a good night,” he finally says.

“You too.”

I nod before walking into the building, feeling a strange flutter in my chest and a throbbing on my ass.

I’m dead exhausted. All I want to do is take a hot bath, throw on some PJs, and pass out, forgetting about my sore backend.

However, Lee has different plans for me. As soon as I walk through the door, she’s gabbing my ear off about her new beau. She’s only been seeing him the past few weeks, but it’s already, Jake this, Jake that, Jake said, et cetera, ad nauseam. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled for my friend, but with everything I’ve been going through, I just wish she would ease up a bit. I mean, it’s not her fault. We’ve both been so busy lately with work and family and life, we just got sidetracked. Plus, I haven’t really been open with her about what’s been going on with me. Seriously, how do you tell your friend you just had your ass whipped by a hot doctor whose very presence gets you off?

I snag a couple beers from the fridge and join her on the couch, handing one over. If I can’t go relax like I wanted, I need some way to take the edge off. And hopefully numb my butt.

“So,” she says, nudging me with her shoulder. “what’s with that guy who walked you home?”

“What are you talking about?” I try to play coy, but I’m a terrible fucking liar.

“Don’t pull that shit with me, Mila.” She softly pokes my bicep. “I saw him. He is a total babe.”

Our apartment is only a floor above the entrance to the building. She must have been on the balcony having a cigarette when we walked up, giving her a front row seat to the show. I think I almost prefer talking about her boyfriend over this.

“He’s the doctor I had the interview with.” I shrug, taking a sip of my beer. “He’s no one really. It’s nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing. He seemed really into you.” She wiggles her brows at me, with her perverted thoughts smirk smeared across her lips.

“I highly doubt it.” I shake my head. “I’m just a guinea pig to him.”

“I don’t think he would walk a guinea pig all the way to their apartment. Just sayin’.” She takes a big swig of her drink, swishing it around in her mouth before swallowing. “What is this study for exactly?”

Oh, Lord. Why did she have to pick tonight of all nights to give two shits about my life?

Damn. I’m tired and cranky.

“It’s research for pain relievers and inhibitors. It’s all really boring stuff.” I lie straight through my teeth to my best friend. I just don’t know how I can tell her about what’s going on. I know it’s supposed to be all business, but I can’t help feeling like it’s personal.

Very personal.

“Do you want to order in and watch some crappy movies?” she asks and then finishes off her beer.

“Nah,” I set mine on the table and stand up. “It’s been a long tiring day. I think I’m going to hit the hay.”

I head into my room and flop onto my bed, trying to shut my eyes and sleep, but Oliver never leaves my thoughts.

What have I gotten myself into?

CHAPTER FOUR

After nearly two weeks, we completed our final session together. Once I’ve dressed and collected myself, I wait for the doctor in his office, my leg shaking restlessly. I don’t know why I feel on edge. The worst part is over with, right? So why do I feel like it’s only just begun?

I glance around his private space, noting the degrees lined perfectly on the wall and bookshelves filled with books of medicine and science. I notice some photos facing away from me on the desk, and my curiosity gets the best of me. I pick one up, expecting to find a photo of the doctor with his perfect wife and two point five kids, positioned in some fake pose, dressed in bright white clothes, phony smiles plastered on their faces. But instead, I find a picture of a beautiful Dutch Shepard, tongue hanging out of its mouth, head kinked to the side. I giggle as I place it back on his desk and pick up another. It’s the doctor, younger, wearing a cap and gown, with who I can only assume are his parents standing at his sides. His mother looks up at him proudly as he and his father smile at the camera. It kind of warms my heart. I like seeing him so…real. Sometimes it’s hard to remember he isn’t a machine like the one he’s used on me.

“You’re a nosy little thing,” he says behind me, startling the fuck out of me. Sneaky devil.

I glimpse back at him quickly then shakily set the frame back where I found it, causing it to fall over with a loud thump.

“I’m sorry. I was…”

“Snooping,” he finishes for me, picking up the picture and placing it back where I found it.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine.” He walks over to his chair, taking a seat, keeping his eyes latched onto my face. Embarrassed by my fascination with him, I cast my eyes toward the window to my left. I know he’s still watching me. I feel it. I feel him. “Let’s get this started, shall we?”

I nod my head.

“Will you please look at me, Miss Petrov?” I cringe before slowly turning my face. He has a faint smile on his lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Much better.”

He clears his throat and then proceeds, asking me questions about my experience. They’re all very clinical inquiries, easily answered with a simple yes or no.

After about ten minutes, he eases back into his seat, seemingly thinking something over. I see the conflict on his face, creasing his brow, pulling his lips down at the corners. When he figures whatever he was working out in his head, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk, clasping his hands in front of him. The next thing that comes from his mouth nearly puts my ass on the floor. “Do you find yourself sexually aroused by our sessions, Miss Petrov?”

Totally caught off guard, I try to make sense of what he just asked me.

What does this have to do with the study? Why would he ask me such a personal question? Did he see it? Was it that obvious?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I stumble my way through my lie. “Of course not. I-I don’t know why that would be any of your concern. No. No, I wasn’t.”

I’m fucking mortified. I try to deny it. Deny, deny, deny. But the bright hue of my flaming cheeks betrays me. I may as well have it written across my forehead in permanent marker.

Honestly, I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince, him or me.

“Is that all?” I snap out, grabbing onto my purse hanging on the back of my chair before he can answer me.

“Yes, Miss Petrov.”

The use of my surname pisses me off further.

How could he be so formal after asking me a fucking question like that?

“Then I will take my check now,
Dr. Landon.
” I spit his name like it were poison in my mouth. He winces, retrieving an envelope out of a drawer and hands it to me. I try to take it from him, but he doesn’t let go. He just holds my gaze, waiting for god knows what. Hell to freeze over?

I rip the envelope from his hand and storm out, desperate to get as far away from him and my humiliation as possible. I all but run down the fluorescent hallway, fighting back my enraged tears.

I don’t know what I’m more humiliated about, his question or the truth.

I’m working at the diner a few days later, hustling to keep up with the busy Saturday crowd. Another waitress, Barb, was supposed to work the lunch shift with me, but she called in sick. And the only other girl said she can’t come in until later.

It’s been one of those days you wish you could press pause and take a breath, but there’s no time to breathe or think, which is actually welcome. I haven’t been able to get my mind off Oliver or his inappropriate questioning. I’m just glad the whole ordeal is over with, and I can finally move on.

My stomach twists aggressively at the notion.

As I’m attending to a table of rowdy college kids, the bell over the door rings. Without looking up from my task, I call out to the patron to take a seat wherever they can find one. In my peripheral, I notice them occupy a booth next the one I’m attending to. When I’ve finished, I walk over to them, jotting down the last of an order on my pad, and ask, “Have you decided what you want?”

“Yes,” a smooth voice purrs, “I have.”

I don’t have to look up to know who it is. His accent gives him away instantly. I glare up at him, my eyes narrowed and inquiring.

“Why are you here?” It came out snippier than I meant it. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy he was sitting here in front of me.

His lips tighten at my tone, thinning into a sharp line. “For the,” he adjusts his glasses, glancing down at the menu, “fried catfish and okra special, of course,” he replies sardonically. “Unless you suggest something else?”

I cross my arms and scowl at him.

“No cheeky retort?” he asks, cocking a dark brow. “Shame. I’ve started becoming quite fond of our little tête-à-têtes.”