Filthy Doctor(33)

“Yeah, that's it,” she said, waving it off. “It's nothing major. Probably nothing I can really build a career around, but it could be some good experience that I can parlay into something better, you know?”

I excused myself before I could be brought into anymore lies, and slipped off to the guest room. As soon as the door was closed behind me, I fell against it and closed my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I exhaled – and kept up that exercise until my heartbeat returned to normal. Damn. That was hard. All of the lying and deception to cover the fact that I was fucking my best friend's daughter. I shook my head and felt the first tinge of regret filtering through me.

Maybe I had made a mistake. Maybe I should have resisted a little more. Maybe I could have prevented it from happening at all. But she knew exactly how to push my buttons. Knew exactly how to get me right where she'd wanted me. It had been utterly amazing and a big part of me wanted more of it. More of her. Part of me was hoping her parents would go out – or at least, go to bed – so I could have her again.

I mentally kicked myself for thinking that way. I shouldn't do it again. I shouldn't fuck Sabrina ever again. It was wrong. And it was risky. Very risky. But damn, it had felt amazing. Talk about conflicted.

And to think, I still had a few more weeks to go before my house would be ready. And years of dinners and golf outings to get through after that. Years and years of looking Dave and Miranda in the eye, knowing that I'd had my cock inside their little girl – and had to hide it.

It would never get easier, would it?

A knock on my door startled me and set my heart racing again. If I didn't have a heart condition before coming to this house, I sure as hell was going to have one when I left.

“Yes?” I said, almost afraid to open it.

“It's me,” Sabrina said, her voice low. “Can we talk?”

Talk. Huh. Isn't that how she prefaced it last time? And we saw where that had gotten us – an afternoon of hot sex, under the table foot jobs, and a whole hell of a lot of awkward, strained conversation with a couple of my oldest friends. Of course, I couldn't put all the blame on her. It wasn't all her fault. I'd certainly played my part in all of this too. I'd made my bed, now I had to lay in it.

Even though I thought letting her into my room to “talk” was a bad idea, I couldn't exactly turn her away. Not after what had happened between us, we did need to talk. She deserved that. I owed her that. I was a grown man and I needed to stand up. Needed to take responsibility for my actions. Which meant opening the door and talking to Sabrina like the adults we were.

But the moment I opened the door, I knew that Sabrina had other ideas. She pushed her inside my room, kicking the door shut behind her and hushing me with a kiss before I could protest. Her tongue was in my mouth and I felt my wall of resistance crumbling. She ran her hands all over my body as we kissed and I followed suit. Her tits just felt wonderful in my hands, as did her ass. And when she grabbed my cock through my pants, it was all I could do to keep from bending her over the dresser and fucking her right then and there.

Eventually, I managed to extricate myself and take a couple of steps back, out of breath, my head spinning with lust and desire.

“What happened to needing to talk?” I asked, pulling away.

“Oh, we do need to talk, but I figured we could do other things first – ”

She dropped to her knees in front of me and reached for my pants, but I stepped back, pulling her up from the floor. Which was hard, because I really wanted to see those perfect lips wrapped around my cock. Really wanted to see those big, beautiful eyes staring up at me as she sucked me off. Really wanted to pull her hair and fuck her mouth, shooting my load deep into her mouth as well as all over her gorgeous little face.

But no, we couldn't. We had to be smart about all of this.

“Your parents are right downstairs,” I muttered, quickly buttoning my pants back up.

“So?” she said with a laugh. “They're busy bickering about paint swatches and what style of fabric goes with it. We'll just have to be quiet.”

“I'd rather not risk it,” I said softly, lifting her face up to look into my eyes. “Let's talk, Sabrina. I think we need to chat, don't you?”

“Why? Because you're going to tell me we can't do it again, right?” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Why must you be so difficult, Julian. Seriously – ”

But this time, I was the one who stopped her. I kissed her, surprising us both. Because let's face it, I probably should tell her that what we had was a one-time deal, but I wasn't able to do that. I was weak. Unable to do the right thing. I was letting my cock determine my behavior – which wasn't a good thing. To say the least. What happened between us was amazing in more ways than I could count, and this woman was driving me crazy. I wanted her. Needed her. But knew I shouldn't have her again.

I tried to convince myself of all the reasons sleeping with Sabrina was a bad idea and was something that shouldn't be repeated. I went through the list in my head several times – the whole time knowing that it was rubbish and I wasn't going to adhere to any of those reasons anyway. I was going to fuck Sabrina again. It seemed to be a foregone conclusion. We just needed to be smart about it.

“I don't know what is going to happen between us, Sabrina, but whatever happens – we need to talk about it first. I think it's critical that we set some boundaries and ground rules. We've got to figure out what the hell we're doing, because I feel like I'm losing my mind here.”

“Me too,” she said. “But it feels amazing.”

“Yes, it does,” I admitted, stroking her cheek. “It really does. And that's the reason I need to be cautious about us moving forward.”

“Cautious? Why?”

“Because the last thing I want is to cause trouble for either of us,” I said. “Well, any more trouble than we've already got on our hands.”



Chapter Eight

SABRINA



What I felt for Julian was real. So very real. It was so real, it hurt. And I wanted to believe what he felt for me was just as real as what I was feeling, but it was hard to tell. He struggled with what was happening between us. I could see that he was still trying to deal with the morality of it all – despite the fact that there was nothing immoral or wrong about what we were doing. But when I'd gone to his room that night, I saw something that made me think perhaps there was a little something more there too. Maybe deep below the surface, but I was pretty positive that it was there.

I knew he'd been lonely ever since Beth had left him. And I often wondered why he didn't date other women. He certainly wouldn't have had any difficulty finding somebody else if he'd wanted to. He was filthy rich, incredibly gorgeous – and if they ever got to see that amazing cock he had in his pants, they'd be lining up around the block.

But he'd remained alone. He'd he had a few flings here and there, maybe. I didn't know for sure. But if he did, he never talked about it. And he most certainly never brought any women around. Instead, he remained utterly alone and seemed to focus on his house remodel and work more than anything. That was, until that day he took my virginity, then everything changed.

And we continued having sex, by the way. It became less awkward, and much less painful too, as the time went on. But it still remained every bit as amazing as the first time we'd done it.

“Yes, oh yes,” he muttered quietly as I sucked his cock for the first time, my red lips wrapped firmly around that thick base. I watched him and his reactions from below as he looked down on me, stroking my hair.

The first time he came in my mouth, it was hard not to gag at the strange taste, but I had managed to swallow it all down, wiping it from my chin with a gleeful grin. I looked up at him with eyes that literally begged for more. He looked at me, amazement in his eyes – along with a very healthy dose of lust and need. He never seemed able to get enough of me. I couldn't count the number of times he'd cum either in me or on me and be ready to go again. It was like his cock never softened until he commanded it to. I'd always heard that older men had difficulty performing multiple times, but with Julian, I knew that I'd never have to fear that. He was as virile as a teenage boy and had the stamina to boot.

And Julian was always ready and willing to give it to me, every chance we were alone.

We fucked, yes, but it was more than that. We also talked. We talked a lot. We kissed. We cuddled. And overall, I filled his bed on many occasions, always sneaking out before my parents would wake up and catch me sleeping over. It was a risk, but after a while, it was one we were willing to take.

Up until the moment we got caught, that was.

It was another Saturday, much like the one when we'd first slept together. My parents were out running errands and Rosa was off for the day – leaving the two of us alone in the house. So naturally, we did what we did when we had time and were alone – we fucked each other's brains out.

I was on top of Julian, riding him hard and fast, fucking him as he sucked on one of my nipples. Because we were alone, we didn't even bother being quiet. It was always hot when we were able to be loud, able to say anything we wanted and talk as dirty as possible. For me, I always loved hearing him calling my name – as well as calling me a few other, naughtier things. So, it always made things more intense when we didn't have to worry about keeping our voices down. My parents had literally just left, so we were confident we had at least a couple hours to spend fucking each other.