The Sex Surrogate(20)

“Yeah, you did,” he smiled wider. Then his face came toward me, pressing his lips into mine, kissing me until my entire body felt like it was starting to tingle. “Okay,” he said, pulling away, “I'll be right back,” he said, taking off toward the bathroom. He came back a moment later, a washcloth in his hand, taking my hand and rubbing gently over it. Finished, he pulled it up toward him, kissing my knuckles and letting it drop.

He came back a few seconds later, slipping in beside me, laying on his side.

“Are the nerves better?” he asked, pulling me on my side to face him.

“A little,” I admitted. Because they had been. Though they were quickly coming back.

He was going to touch me.

Soon.

“Good,” he said, leaning closer and brushing the hair off my neck a second before his lips went down there, making me sigh at the contact, “Because I really want to make you feel good. I want to watch you as I make you come. And just when you start to come down, I am going to drive you back up and make it happen again. Until your body can't take anymore.”

Oh

my

god.

Where did he learn to talk like that?

“Does that sound good?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Good,” he said, his hand sliding to my breast, taking the nipple and working it into a painfully tight point. His hand went up to my shoulder, pressing until I laid flat, then went to the other nipple until I was squirming, pressing my thighs so hard together that the muscles were aching.

His hand moved between my breasts, slowly moving a straight line down my belly, pausing, then stroking down my thigh, then back up the other one. His hand rested at the triangle above my sex. “Let me in, baby,” he murmured and my legs just... spread for him. Then his hand slipped between them, quickly stroking up my cleft, making me gasp and jump at the unfamiliar contact. “You're so wet for me,” he groaned, his fingers stroking my folds. “Is this okay?”

Okay? No.

No it wasn't okay.

It was fucking incredible.

It was everything everyone had ever told me it was.

And more.

“Yes,” the word came out on a moan, and his eyes quickly went up to my face, apt.

Then his fingers moved upward, stroking over my painfully sensitive clit. And I almost jumped off the bed. “Fuck,” he hissed, watching my face twist, my back arch, as his finger started slow circles around the sensitive point. “Ava, look at me, babe,” he urged.

My eyes drifted to his as his finger moved across my clit and my body exploded into an unexpected orgasm. “Ah,” I cried out, shocked, then groaned as my body pulsated hard over and over, my body going taut, my hand slamming down hard on Chase's shoulder.

Chase let the orgasm wash over me, fingers stilling. Then as my body relaxed, his finger started working again. Just like he promised. “God, you're so fucking beautiful when you come,” he said, leaning down and taking my lips gently in his.

I turned slightly toward him, my arm going around his back, kissing him back with all the amazement I was wrapped up in, wanting him to share it. And he did, greedily.

He pulled away, waiting until my eyes slowly opened, then his finger slid away from my clit, drawing out a frustrated grumble for me. “Don't worry, you're going to come again,” he said, his finger pressing against my entrance. Then his finger slid slowly inside me, making my body jerk.

Because it had been so long. Honestly, I wasn't sure I had ever really even experienced what it felt like to have a finger or... anything else, inside of me. I was usually too busy trying to calm myself down to feel anything but my own pounding heart. But, god, it felt good.

“You with me?” he asked, his finger stilling inside.

I smiled slightly at him. “Always,” I found myself saying. Then, seeing the darkness come over his eyes, wished I could suck it back in. His finger turned inside me, stroking up against the top wall, finding the spot most men weren't even sure existed and raking his finger across it. And nothing else mattered but that feeling.

“Oh my god,” I whimpered, my fingers digging hard into the skin on his back.

Chase gave me a small smile. “Does that feel good?” he asked, knowing damn well it did.

“Yes,” I cried out, my hips sliding up toward him, wanting more.

But then he stopped stroking my g-spot and started thrusting fast in and out of me, making my breath catch, arching up toward his hand, crying out shamelessly as my body went up up up again. Just when I thought I couldn't take another second of the torment, his thumb found my clit as he stroked back over my g-spot and I just.. shattered.

“Chase,” I cried out, grabbing at him, pulling him toward me as my body spasmed violently.

“It's okay. I'm right here. Come baby.”

It felt like it lasted forever, my body completely beyond my control, shaking, writhing, being completely consumed in the sensations.

I came down slowly and Chase's finger moved inside me and I shook my head at him.

“No?”

“I can't,” I said, burying my face in his chest because I felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to cry. Not sob. Not break down. Just... cry. Because it was just... too much. I couldn't take it.

His finger slid out of me, his hands moving to stroke me. Down my back. Down my side. “Baby talk to me,” he urged, one of his hands slipping into my hair.

But I couldn't. Because I was concentrating on my very silent little cry, tilting my face just away from him enough that the tears didn't fall on his chest.

“Babe? Ava...” he urged, then shifted, grabbing the side of my face and forcing it up to look at him. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers catching the tears and brushing them away. “Are these good tears or bad tears?” Not able to find the words, I turned my head and kissed his hand. “Good tears,” he concluded, smiling at me. Then he leaned down and kissed my wet cheeks, kissed my eyes closed, then finally... kissed my lips. Until all that there was was him and me and the sweet, delicious feeling of lips trying to consume each other.

A while later, me laying across his chest like it was the safest place in the world because, for me, it was, his hand heavy on my back. “That was fucking amazing,” he said, half to himself. “I'm serious,” he said, turning to look down at me. “You did really well tonight.”

I felt myself force a smile. Force because he just inadvertently reminded me what we were. Not lovers. Doctor and patient.

“Where are you going?” he asked, trying to reach for me as I moved off of him and slipped off the other end of the bed, away from him.

I didn't answer him because, well, what could I say?

I need to leave because if I stay, it is only going to blur these lines even more for me and I am already in so deep I can barely see the surface anymore?

Yeah, that wasn't going to work.

I slipped into my clothes faster than I probably ever had before, taking a deep breath and looking back toward the bed. But he wasn't where I left him. He was sitting off the side of the bed, his feet on the floor, his head in his hands.

“Hey,” I said, feeling almost worried, “are you okay?”

He didn't answer for a long moment. “Yup,” he said in a tone I didn't trust. Then, “So, ya' leaving me?” he asked in a voice I didn't even consider his. It was odd. Guarded? Distant? Something like that.

“It's late,” I guessed. “I have work in the morning.”

“Okay,” he said, still sitting there, not looking at me. “Thursday. Seven-thirty.”

Same cold, dead tone.

“Umm,” I said, feeling torn. The part of me that needed to protect myself, needing to leave. The other part, the part that felt too strongly about Chase to ever want to leave, wanted to know what was wrong. To go to him. To soothe over his feelings like he did for me. But, I reminded myself, taking a breath, that wasn't my place. I wasn't his girlfriend. I was his patient. Nothing more. “Okay,” I said, my voice numb as I was feeling, “I'll see you then.”





After the Session





“What are you doing?” Jake asked, coming in from the gym so drenched it was actually impressive.

I saluted him with my spoon, then dug it back into the half gallon of salted caramel gelato I had stocked the freezer with, completely wiping out the deli around the corner, on my way home from Chase's office.

I was situated on the couch in baggy sweat clothes and a huge gray men's robe and fluffy purple slippers. My hair was pulled back into the same messy ponytail I had pulled it into before I went to bed the night before, at least a third of it sneaking down around my face and shoulders. “Just catching up on some TV,” I said, shrugging.

“It's ten o'clock in the morning.”

“And that's what makes on-demand such an awesome invention.”

“It's not a holiday.”

“Nope.”

“You've literally never missed a day of work before.”

“That's true.”

“Oh, my god. It's like talking to a three year old with ADD,” he said, throwing his gym bag next to the door. “Are you sick?”

“Nah.”

Well, maybe a little heart sick. But hell, I wasn't sharing that.

“Are you having some kind of fucking mental break down? Should I call one of your shrinks or something?”

“Oh my god,” I grumbled, pausing my show. “I'm taking a day off from work, not speaking in tongues.”