Filthy Doctor(307)

I knew better than to ask if he was seeing anybody. The more accurate question would have been how many women was he seeing?

We did not talk about the number of women he’d been with or the number of men I’d had, although I was certain his count would far outnumber mine.

As I watched Luke shove the last of his fries into his mouth, I felt the anger that had festered inside me for so long slowly fading away. I had been pissed at him because he had never called me after he left home. I painted myself as the poor girl whom the hero left behind. But as he said, the truth was, I’d never ever tried to call him either. I said it was because I never knew where he was, but that wasn’t entirely true.

Cody kept a pretty good track on Luke and told me several times that Luke was riding in rodeos near College Station where I was in school and around Houston just a short drive away.

I could have easily gone to see him if I’d wanted to, but I never did.

Maybe Luke was right.

He didn’t want to force his dreams on me and maybe I didn’t want to force mine on him.

Or maybe I didn’t know if I could resist just chucking my dreams to follow him around the rodeo circuit if he ever asked me to. I’d never had much willpower when it came to Luke Daniels.

Not as the little girl who followed him around like a lovesick pup.

Not as the teenager who spent many nights lying in his arms.

And not as the woman sitting across from him now, gazing into his eyes as little jolts of electricity arced across my nipples and little drops of joy-juice soaked into the crotch of my Victoria’s Secret panties.

I glanced at the clock above the counter. “Holy crap, it’s almost nine-thirty,” I said. I glanced out the window. Yep, still dark. Duh. “We’d better get back on the road. We won’t get home till after midnight at this rate.”

Luke’s lips curled into a smile. He nodded out the window. My eyes followed his gaze. He was looking at the motel office that sat cattycornered to the diner. The neon sign in the window read: VACANCIES.

He gave me a shrug and said, “We could just stay here tonight and head home in the morning. I mean, if you wanted to.”

I slowly brought my eyes around to his. The air between us seemed to grow warm and moist, filled with electricity, like the air before a Texas thunderstorm.

I gave him a sympathetic look and said, “You do look tired.”

His head slowly bobbed. “Yes, ma’am, it has been a long day.”

“And your doctor would probably recommend that you get lots of bed rest.”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m sure he would.”

I glanced at his side as the warm juices started to flow freely between my legs. “Did the doctor say that you should avoid strenuous activity? I mean, I don’t want you busting your stitches.”

“The doc said I could do whatever I wanted to, so long as I was careful,” he said seriously. “Physical activity in moderation is good, I think he said. And you know me. I’m all about the physical activity.”

“Well then, doctor knows best,” I said, reaching for my purse. I took out a twenty-dollar bill and set it on the table. “You pay our check. I’ll get us a room.”



Shelby

I led Luke to room 10 and opened the door. A wave of musty air rushed past us, as if it had been locked inside the room for years and couldn’t wait for me to open the door so it could get free. I coughed and waved at the dust I’d kicked up just by opening the door, then reached inside the door and flicked on the light. A bedside lamp flickered to life.

“Well, it ain’t much,” I said, stepping aside to let Luke pass. “But we’ve both probably slept in worse.”

“Who said anything about sleeping?” Luke asked with a grin. He held his side as he walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. He glanced around the room. “It’s a shithole, but it’s better than sleeping in the bed of a truck, which is where I spend most nights.”

The room was standard issue roadside motel straight out of the 1970’s. There was a double bed covered by a spread with a scenic cowboy riding a horse while roping a calf print. On the wall above the bed was a painting of a similar cowboy on a similar horse roping a similar calf. The spread and the painting had probably been in this room for decades.

There was a nightstand on one side of the bed with the lamp and an alarm clock that was off by several hours. A little round table and two chairs sat in front of the window, which was covered by heavy drapes the color of red wine. The air conditioner was beneath the window. I fiddled with the controls for a moment. It spat and sputtered, and finally made a noise like a diesel engine cranking to life and blew out air that was just slightly cooler than the thick air already in the room.

There was a rickety-looking dresser with an old, old, old television set sitting on top of a yellow doily that had probably once been white. The TV was so old it didn’t even have a remote control or a cable running into the back of it. I could only assume that most people checking into Mel’s Diner, Convenience Store, and Roadside Motel did not do so to watch TV.

I had bought a six-pack of Coors in the little store scotched between the motel office and diner. I set the cold beers on the dresser, then popped the top on two of them. I handed one to Luke and kept one for myself. I put the cold bottle to my lips as I walked over to the door leading into the bathroom and pushed it open with the toe of my boot.

Again, standard stuff; toilet, tub, shower; all relatively clean and free of traces from past visitors.

“You feel like a shower or a hot bath?” I asked. “No offense, but your hair looks like somebody plastered it to your head with a trowel.” I noticed he was holding his side again. “Is it okay to get that wet?”

He tried to smile. I could tell it hurt. “The doc said I probably shouldn’t get this wet for a few more days. I can shower, but I need to cover it with plastic somehow.”

“Then we won’t worry about a shower until we get you home and I can figure out how to wrap plastic around you or something.”

“If you can get past the smell for tonight, that sounds like the best plan.”

“I think I can manage.” I took a long pull at the bottle and stared at him for a moment. I could barely believe I was in a shitty motel room with Luke Daniels, after all these years.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor and his hands on his knees. I had to smile because he looked so ridiculous in the hospital scrubs and cowboy boots.

He held out his arms and wiggled his fingers at me. “Come here.”

I set the beer on the nightstand and moved to stand between his knees. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me toward him, resting his forehead between my breasts. He sighed as I wrapped my arms around his head and pulled him close. I rested my cheek on the top of his head.

“I’ve missed you, Shelby,” he said quietly.

“I’ve missed you, too, Luke.”

“I want to make love you,” he said, looking up at me with dreamy eyes. “But I’m afraid I can’t do much more than lie here.”

“I think we can make that work,” I said, putting my hands on his cheeks and lowering my lips to his. His lips were rough, but they were warm and his tongue was moist and when I stuck my tongue into her mouth so he could suck on it, the past came rushing back and I nearly came in my jeans.

God, how I’d missed the taste of this man.

I kissed him long and hard as his hands came around to undo my jeans. He hooked his thumbs into the waistbands of my jeans and panties and forced them down over my round ass and legs. I was still wearing my boots, so the jeans and panties gathered just below my knees.

I broke the kiss long enough to pull off my t-shirt and unhook my bra. When the bra slid down my arms, freeing my aching tits, Luke sighed his approval and cupped my tits in his hands. He kneaded my milky globes as his tongue said hi to my nipples, drawing circles around them, nipping with his teeth, sucking them between his lips.

“Get this off,” I said, breathless already, tugging at his shirt. “Just raise your arms and I’ll help you.”

“Son of a bitch,” he said, wincing as I pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. I put my hands on his muscular shoulders and glanced down at this bandage. It was still clean, no sign of blood. I put my finger under his chin to lift it up so I could see his face. He was sweating a little, but his eyes were bright and he managed to give me a smile.

“We’re gonna have to be careful,” I said. “I don’t want you to do anything to pop those stitches. I’d hate to have to call the cook to sew you up.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said as his hands slid from my breasts to my ass. He flexed his fingers into the soft flesh of my ass and let his little fingers slide down to tease my asshole. He glanced down at the neat patch of curls pointing toward my clit. “Maybe I can just lay back and you can just do a slow ride, like in the good old days.”

“Hmm, I can do that,” I said, kissing him again.

He kept squeezing my ass with his left hand, then brought his right hand around to slide between my legs. I spread my thighs so he could slide his fingers across my sopping pussy, lubing them up so they would slide easily inside me.

He began fucking me with one finger while his thumb rolled my clit from side to side. I was two seconds away from cumming all over his hand. It had been awhile since I’d been touched by a man down there. Especially a man I cared about. Luke’s fingers were hitting all the switches, turning on my water works, sending shudders of orgasm throughout my body.