the kiss. His tongue dips inside and strokes my tongue, my teeth, my
very essence, leaving me nowhere to hide. I gasp, and he plunders my
mouth, feasting on me, groans spilling from his throat as he drinks me
down like the 1985 Château d’Yquem, we had with our lamb bite.
So this is what it is like to be kissed. Really kissed. No soft pecks
or wet, milky smacks on the lips. No tentative pokes of the tongue or
the banging of teeth. This is a real kiss—a man’s kiss—demanding,
passionate, and hungry. No holds barred. All consuming.
Max’s phone alarm beeps softly and he eases his mouth away. “I’m
on the red-eye to Hong Kong in a few hours. But when I get back, we’ll
pick up where we left off.”
Gah. My body aches with unfulfilled need. I hope I put fresh bat-
teries in my Rabbit.
He releases me and I focus on staying upright while he pulls on
his clothes.
“When?”
He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I fly back on Thursday morning.
I’ll pick you up after work. We’ll have dinner.”
“More food?” I cannot keep the disappointment out of my voice.
“Not if there is something else you’d rather do.” The sensual purr
of his voice sends my need from diminishing arousal to fierce craving in
a heartbeat. A soft whimper escapes my lips.
His eyes blaze with sensual fire. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
By the time I’ve collected myself sufficiently to contemplate
walking, Max’s limo is a shadow in the darkness.
For the longest time I stare at the road, chewing my fingernails
one by one down to a quick. I should have been honest when he asked
“Same Max?”
I should have said “no,” but I like them both.
Chapter 10
Forward and Back
“You’re going out with Max Huntington! SHUT UP!” Amanda
shrieks. I cover my ears and slide into the padded booth beside her.
Club music pounds through Doctor, Doctor. The new, medical-themed
club, only a few blocks from the hospital, is the last place I want to blow
off some steam but it was close, and Amanda has been trying to get me
here since it opened.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I shout over the music. “I waited for
Max in the parking lot for almost an hour and he didn’t show up. No
text. No call. I guess I’ve officially been stood up.”
“Well he’s missing out because you look HOT.”
I smooth my hand over the sparkly silver, halter-neck dress Susie
sent me from her favorite London store, French Connection UK. Tight,
but not too tight, with a swishy skirt, it mercifully has the FCUK hidden
in the label.
“You should have texted him,” she continues. “Maybe he was delayed.”
“Then he should have let me know. I only had enough minutes
for one text, and I was tired of waiting. These stilettos are killing me,
and it’s been a stressful week. Big Doris has really been on my case. I’ve
collected six green slips for nothing. I need a little girl-time relaxation.”
Amanda grins and tries to flag down a waitress by fluttering her
perfectly manicured and unbitten nails. “The drinks are on me tonight
since you’re poverty stricken and being chased by evil debt collectors.”
“You don’t—”
“And I just settled a big case so I feel like celebrating.”
Her flutters attract the attention of a waitress wearing the smallest,
tightest, nurse’s uniform I have ever seen. She records our orders on
a medical chart, and we relax into our booth as the DJ turns up the
volume and spins some old-school funk.
Amanda listens patiently while I yell the details of my humiliating
eating experiences into her ear. She stops me only to ask questions about
what Max and Dr. Drake were wearing, how much the dress and shoes
cost, and how far Max’s tongue went down my throat.
Ten minutes later, my guts spilled, I suck back my citrusy “Liquid
Lust” through a tube attached to an IV bag on a stand and await Amanda’s
analysis. She delicately sips her “Nitro Margarita” and considers my
predicament, while at the same time scoping out the bar for potential
sleeping partners. After I’ve pointed out the few actual doctors in the
bar, she zeroes in on her target and lines him up with a flirtatious wink.
“What about Jake?” I suck back another shot and choke as the burst
of sugary sweetness shoots down my throat. Someone forgot to turn the
tap to low. Drips are supposed to drip.
Amanda sighs. “I spent all night trying to get him to spill Torment’s
true identity. A waste of time since you found out anyway. Finally I
called it quits and told him we needed a break.”
“Amanda! You’re punishing him for playing by the rules.”
She gives me an evil grin. “He’s being trained. When he’s with
me, the only rules he needs to follow are Amanda’s rules. Don’t worry.
I’ll only leave him hanging for another day. I don’t want to have a dry
weekend, and since I don’t plan on being able to walk when he’s done
apologizing, I want to get the apology over with sooner rather than later
so I can recover by Monday.”
My cheeks flame and Amanda laughs. “You’re too easy to embar-
rass. A little sexperience is all you need to cure that blushing problem.
Speaking of which—” She pokes me hard in the shoulder. “Why didn’t
you invite Max in on Monday night?”
“I didn’t get a chance. He kissed me and then ran off to catch a
flight. Plus, I was covered in potatoes. It kind of spoiled the mood.”
A waitress in green operating room scrubs stops at our table, and
Amanda buys a few shots of “Tetra-Ouzo” in ready-to-administer,
guaranteed-hygienic syringes. We take turns giving each other our
“medicine.” Within twenty minutes, I’m feeling the buzz.
“Why do you think he didn’t show?”
Amanda fluffs her hair and pulls out her makeup bag—sure signs
she is getting ready to go on the prowl. I follow suit, preparing to be the
dutiful, tagalong friend who laughs at her jokes, checks out the guy, and
entertains any of his annoying friends.
“If his tongue almost hit your tonsils, then he definitely wants to
see you again. Tongue depth is a very accurate indicator of male inter-
est.” She slaps her cheeks repeatedly until they are pink and swollen and
then pulls out a tiny fly swatter to swat her lips. She offers the torture
device to me, but I wave her away.
“I swatted at home, thanks.”
Amanda runs the lipstick over her plump lips and rubs them to-
gether. “I’d say whatever held him up wasn’t his fault.”
“I’m not sure,” I sigh. “I got a funny feeling after he left. Like I was
a deal he had just closed. Even though he took off his shirt and tie, he
was still half dressed in his suit and he was different—very focused and
demanding. Hard.”
Amanda twists her lips to the side. “That doesn’t sound good.”
My eyes widen. “YOU don’t think it sounds good. Now I know
I’m in trouble.”
She pats my hand and offers me another shot. �
�Let me think about
it. Right now, I’m a bit distracted by the blond Adonis staring at us.”
I follow the direction of her gaze and freeze. My breath catches in
my throat. “It’s Doctor Drake. Hide me. Don’t let him see me.” I try to
slide under the table, but Amanda grabs my hand.
“Too late. He’s on his way over. Pull up those big girl panties
and paste on your best smile. If Max did dump you, here comes your
second chance.”
“He doesn’t do it for me. I know he’s a gorgeous heart surgeon with
an amazing body and he’s gone out of his way to offer to help me, but
he doesn’t make me tingle all over the way Max does. He’s…safe and
comfortable. Like…home.”
“Are you insane?” Amanda hisses. “He is totally YUMMY and I’ve
suddenly got a fever only a doctor can cure.” She fans herself with a
paper napkin.
“What happened to my girl-time relaxation?”
Amanda’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously? You want girl-time relax-
ation when you could have him?”
Dr. Drake approaches the table, Amanda fluffs her breasts. I try to
keep down the excessive quantity of alcohol I have just consumed on
an empty stomach. Amanda’s actions do not go unnoticed. Dr. Drake’s
eyes travel from her lips down to her chest and back again. He is wearing
good. Too good. Like a soap opera doctor. But he has nothing on Max.
“He’s all yours, but I think he might be more than even you can
handle.” I shove the IV tube in my mouth, and take a big sip.
Amanda gives me a sideways glance and snorts. “No one has even
come close. Except maybe Jake. But, since we’re on a break, I’m free for
a little examination.”
“Mac, I thought that was you.” Dr. Drake drags his eyes off
Amanda’s breasts and stares at the tube in my mouth. He reaches over
to turn off the tap on my drip. “IVs have to be carefully monitored,
otherwise the patient might overdose.”
“Some patients want to overdose.” I turn the drip back on.
Amanda splutters beside me. So what if I’m not being classy? He
touched my drip.
“She’s not thinking clearly,” Amanda chimes in, patting my back.
“She’s inebriated because she had a hard week.”
Grrrrr. Sometimes Amanda can be a total pain.
Dr. Drake’s eyes flicker over to Amanda’s face. His lips part. A
smile creases his perfect face. “We haven’t been formally introduced.”
I introduce them between IV sucks. Amanda inhales. Her breasts
rise. Her chin dips. She looks up at Dr. Drake through long, golden
lashes and holds out her hand, waggling her fingers like little worms
on a fishing hook. She is really laying it on thick. No one would ever
suspect she is a crackerjack attorney at one of San Francisco’s biggest law
firms, and she likes to play it that way.
Dr. Drake presses his lips to her wrist. “How nice to meet one of
Mac’s girlfriends.” He emphasizes the word “girl,” making it seem as if
I am inundated by men at work.
“Yes, we’re very close.” Amanda squeezes up beside me and puts her
hand on my arm. I glance over at her and frown. Did I just miss something?
“Well, now I have two lovely ladies to dance with.” Dr. Drake turns
his gaze back to me and holds out both his hands.
“What’s happening?” I whisper as I dutifully follow Amanda to the
dance floor. “I told you he’s all yours.”
“Either he likes you a lot. Or, he’s into threesomes. Or both.” She
hits the dance floor and immediately begins to gyrate. Dr. Drake joins
her, grooving to the hip-hop beat with some smooth moves of his own.
“Threesomes?” My alcohol-soaked brain cannot keep up and my
voice rises in pitch. “You, me and…Doctor Drake? Together? In bed?
You picked that up after talking to him for five seconds?”
“I also picked up that he’s into kinky sex. Watch.” Amanda twists
her scarf around her wrists, binding them together, then raises them over
her head and shakes her breasts. Dr. Drake licks his lips. My stomach
clenches. I. Am. Going. To. Hurl.
“So, are you interested?” she asks.
“In him or the threesome?” I force my feet to move in time to the
beat. Dr. Drake gives me an encouraging nod. Good thing I’m not
wearing a scarf.
“Either.”
“Are you crazy?” I hiss in her ear. “He’s my boss. You’re my best
friend. And my most exciting sexual experience to date was the kiss from
Max. I don’t think my heart could take it.”
Dr. Drake grabs me and spins me around, pulling me against
his lean body with a surprisingly muscular arm. He thrusts his pelvis
forward and back, taking me with him. Forward and back. Forward
and back. Our pelvises rock in time to the music. A giant picture of us
flashes on the screen above the stage with a cartoon caption that reads,
“Dirty Doctor Dancing.” Bravo for new technology and instantaneous
humiliation. My stomach clenches, and I try to pull away, but Dr.
Drake smiles at the camera and presses his hand against my belly and
my ass into his crotch.
And I thought Bianco Nero was a bad experience.
After twenty minutes Amanda and I escape to the restroom to
freshen up while Dr. Drake loiters outside, chatting with his doctor
friends about his scintillating performance.
“I think he likes you.” Amanda reapplies her lipstick for the hun-
dredth time in two hours.
“Max. I’ll bet you two shots of Unidentified Specimen he texts
you tonight.”
I ease myself up on the vanity counter made up to look like a hospi-
tal bed. “What if he’s not interested in date four? What if he went home
and thought to himself, ‘Thank God that’s over. I think I’ll call up one
of my poised, beautiful, movie star girlfriends who wouldn’t know a
carb if it hit her in the face’?”
“Then you get two free shots of Unidentified Specimen, and I’ll
return a slightly used Doctor Drake.”
“How am I going to face Doctor Drake at work?” I bury my face in
my hands. “They keep playing that video of us dirty dancing over and
over again. It gets worse every time. Why didn’t you stop me?”
Amanda shrugs. “You were having fun. Sometimes you have to stop
worrying about things and just enjoy the moment.”
“He was certainly enjoying it,” I mutter. “I’m going to have a bruise
on my lower back from his enjoyment.”
Thankfully, Dr. Drake has disappeared when we emerge from the
restroom. We make our way back to the table and collapse into the booth.
I search for a waitress to top off my IV, and my eyes are drawn to a
disturbance at the door. The manager pushes his way through the crowd,
and a minute later Max emerges, flanked by two men dressed in black.
My mouth goes dry. “Oh. My. God. Max is here.”
Amanda follows the direction of my gaze and her eyes widen. “Did
you tell him where you were?”
“I didn’t
even know he was back, and my phone is dead.”
His eyes focus on me like laser beams. My heart pounds a frantic
rhythm against my ribs. Instinct screams for me to run, run, run. I wish
my face would unfreeze so I could look anything other than horrified.
Max stalks toward our table, eating up the tiles with determined
strides of his long legs.
I lean toward Amanda. “I think he’s angry.”
Amanda snorts a laugh. “I’d say that’s an understatement. He’s
furious. It means he cares.”
“I’d like it better if he showered me with flowers.”
Max reaches our table and the two men in black loiter at a discrete
distance. He folds his arms and glares down at me. His blue, button-
down shirt and black dress pants are slightly wrinkled and his hair is
mussed—as if he had just stepped off a plane. Uh-oh.
“Where were you?”
Sweat trickles down my back. “I waited for almost an hour. You
didn’t show. You didn’t call or text. I walked here and called Amanda.”
His jaw tightens. “You walked here? Alone? In the dark? After I told
you to wait for me?”
“Um. Yes. Yes. Yes and yes.”
“If I say I’m going to be somewhere, I’ll be there. You don’t leave.
You wait.”
My hands clench into fists and I crinkle my brow into a frown.
“No way. I don’t stand around in silver stilettos in a vacant parking lot
waiting God knows how many hours for you to decide it’s convenient
to pick me up.”
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
Bang. Bang. Bang. My heart thuds a warning in my chest. With
every word he steps closer to the line I will not cross. Protective I can
handle. Possessive and controlling? Not a chance. My hand trembles so
violently my watch vibrates against the table. “Why are you so angry?
I’m the one who should be angry. You stood me up. I felt like an idiot
standing around waiting for you.”
Max bristles. “The plane was caught in turbulence. I couldn’t call
out. I texted you and Colton as soon as I was able.”
“I didn’t get your text. My phone ran out of minutes.”
Max’s eyes narrow. “Your phone ran out of minutes? What would
you do in an emergency? What if you needed help? You need a reliable
phone. A phone that doesn’t run out of minutes. You need a phone that