Doctor Can't Get Enough Page 2

  “I think you can help my mom. I know you can do it.” She holds up a thick file. “It’s her case, all her medical files.”

  “I can’t look at it.” I walk over and brush past her. Our arms touch, however briefly, as I unlock and open my office door.

  She follows me inside. “Listen, please. You said you used to be this guy… what happened?”

  I wince a little bit. “Nothing. It’s not important.”

  “Please. I just want to know.”

  I put my lunch down on my desk and turn to face her. She stares back at me, angry and defiant. I hate to admit it, but she’s absolutely gorgeous… and I want to help her.

  I hate not helping her mother. I know the surgery she wants me to perform. I’ve done it before and had very good success with it. I know that if the circumstances aren’t bad, I can do it again.

  All I need to do is take that case file.

  “You’re persistent.”

  “I know.”

  “But that won’t change the answer. You understand that? It’s outside of my control.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I sigh. “Listen. What’s your name?”

  “Bailey,” she says, brightening a bit.

  “Okay, Bailey. I’m Westin.”

  “I know who you are.”

  I give her a look. “I need you to understand this, Bailey. I want to help your mother. I really do. But my hands are tied.”

  “Your hands are tied or you just can’t stomach the risk? The possibility of helping my mother?”

  I glare at the girl. She has no fucking clue what she’s talking about.

  “I’ve helped plenty of people,” I say softly. “Plenty more than you ever will. I’ve sacrificed enough.”

  “So save one more.” Pleading now, tone softer. God, it’s insane, but my heart’s racing. I can feel my blood pulsing through my skin and I want to reach out and touch her.

  She’s wearing tight jeans and a tight sweater. It shows just enough of her curves and her perky breasts, just enough that my imagination can fill in the rest of the blanks. Fucking hell, I want to grab her hair and kiss her, bend her over this desk, fuck her right here where anyone could catch us.

  That really would be the end of my career. Not that I care.

  My career is barely a shell of what it once was at the moment anyway.

  Still, I hold back.

  “The answer is no. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re not sorry.” She steps closer, thrusting the folder at me. “Just look at it, okay? Please. Just read it.”

  I hesitate. “I shouldn’t. I could get in trouble just looking at that.”

  “Please. Read it. If you read it and she really isn’t a candidate for this surgery then… I’ll leave you alone.”

  I sigh and meet her eyes. She’s beautiful, alluring…

  I don’t care about the surgery, I realize. I only care about having this girl.

  I step closer to her. She doesn’t back away. I’m close now, inches away, and I reach up to run my fingers through her hair.

  She doesn’t let her surprise show. Her lips part slightly.

  I tighten my fist and lean down to whisper in her ear.

  “You really want this?” I growl.

  I can practically feel her trembling. “Please. Help.”

  I take the folder with my other hand and step back. She blinks rapidly, clearly not sure what the hell just happened. I hold the folder up.

  “I’ll read it. But no promises.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  “Fine.” I cock my head, smiling slightly. “Your mom has a good daughter.”

  “I know she does.” She turns and walks quickly to the door. I hate to see her go, although I do love that firm, tight ass.

  “Give me time,” I say as she steps into the hall.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gives me a look, and I think it has a hint of longing, before she disappears.

  I sit back down and weigh the folder in my hands.

  If Cooper finds out about this, I’m screwed. She’ll make sure to ruin me completely.

  But fuck her. Fuck holding back. I want that girl… that beautiful Bailey girl. And maybe I can help her mother in the process.

  One surgery, that’s all. One surgery to help someone.

  And to get a taste of something I desire.

  But first, I have to read this.

  I open the folder, open my lunch, and get to work.

  3

  Bailey

  That night, I dream about his fingers in my hair.

  I don’t know what the hell that was. He’s a total stranger, he doesn’t know me at all, and yet he just… stepped up and grabbed my hair like that.

  It was the most sexual gesture I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I had chills the whole rest of the day. My heart was racing and I could feel that pulse down between my legs.

  God, I was dripping. It’s insane. I wanted him to kiss me… I thought he really might.

  But instead, he just took the folder.

  That’s just as good. Maybe better, I’m not sure.

  There’s a chance, at least.

  My apartment isn’t far from the hospital. So the next day, I walk over and wait outside of his office again. I get there nice and early, figuring he’ll show up like he did last time… except I’m sitting there for three hours, and nothing.

  I’m tempted to ask around, but there was something in his tone yesterday that stops me. I’m worried that if I ask the wrong questions of the wrong person, maybe it’ll come back on him and he won’t take the case after all.

  So I go home. I go to work at the coffee shop in the evening. The next day, I have a morning shift, and then it’s off to the hospital.

  And again, he’s missing.

  “How are you, honey?” my mom asks me that night over the phone.

  “I’m fine,” I lie.

  “Did you find that doctor you mentioned?”

  I wince. I wish I hadn’t told her. I hate that I got her hopes up. “I met with him,” I say. “He took your file.” Okay, so far, no lies. That’s good.

  “Is he going to do the surgery?”

  I hesitate a long moment. “I think so,” I finally say.

  Only half a lie.

  “That’s a relief,” she says. “My pain was bad today, honey, really bad. It was hard just calling.”

  She doesn’t laugh. She never laughs anymore.

  We chat for a little while longer, and when we finally get off the phone, I feel a pit in my stomach.

  What if he just avoids me forever now?

  But no, he can’t. There’s no way he could. That guy works at that hospital. Sooner or later, I’ll catch him.

  So I show up every day that week. And I don’t run into him a single time.

  As I’m leaving Friday evening, I spot a little sign in the corner of the lobby. It’s an advertisement for an event the hospital is putting on… a little charity event. It’s happening tonight in the auditorium, right down the hall from here. And the sign lists a few doctors that’ll be in attendance.

  His name is at the very bottom. Dr. Westin Turner.

  “Gotcha,” I whisper to myself with a smile.

  The bastard’s been ducking me all week, but he won’t be able to duck me at this party. Not without making some kind of scene.

  I’m going to ambush him and get some damn answers, and I’m doing it tonight.

  I’m nervous again.

  I don’t think I should be. He knows me now. He’s probably going to try and run away, but I’m not going to let him.

  Still, I’m nervous. I know what he’s going to say. I’m sure he’s going to try to blow me off, tell me he lost the file, something stupid like that. But I won’t let him do it. I won’t let him squirm out of this.

  I hate myself for going through all this. I’m not this pushy normally. I’m not this kind of person.

  But I’d do anything for my mother. I know this
is insane, but I really think this is her last chance at having a decent life.

  So I put on my cutest black cocktail dress and drive down to the hospital. I have to call out sick at the coffee shop, but my manager is pretty decent. He’ll get over it.

  I park and head inside. There are more people here than I thought there’d be. I follow a group down a hallway, across the lobby, and into the auditorium where a live band is playing through a set of sixties easy listening classics.

  It’s more upscale than I thought it would be. I’m appropriately dressed, but barely. And I think I’m the youngest person in the room by like fifty years.

  Doesn’t matter. I have a job to do. I grab a glass of champagne as it passes, smiling at the strange irony of having alcohol at a hospital function. I sip the drink for courage and scan the room.

  There’s a buffet against one wall and a smattering of tables. There’s a little dance floor, though nobody’s dancing. Mostly people are clustered around in groups, chatting amiably. Some of them are wandering around. I briefly wonder what the point of all this is, but I don’t bother trying to figure it out.

  “Excuse me, miss?”

  I freeze, sure that someone found me out. I don’t belong here, I’m an imposter, I’m about to be thrown out, I’m—

  “Raffle?”

  I turn to the kind elderly man selling raffle tickets.

  “Oh, uh, yes. Sure. Of course.”

  I buy six out of sheer embarrassment and awkwardness. He smiles and hurries off, trying to get more raffle purchases.

  I wander through the hall, drifting toward the buffet table.

  There are other doctors in attendance. I can tell they’re doctors because they look arrogant and because they’re wearing those white jackets. I don’t spot Westin though, not yet.

  I make a slow circle of the room. I’m trying not to look conspicuous but I bet I’m drawing some looks. I can’t help it though, I want to find Westin before he finds me. If that happens, he can just slip out the back or something, make some excuse, disappear, and then I’ll never see him again.

  My heart’s racing as I start a second circuit. I’m determined to find him, although I don’t know what I’ll say yet. I walk slowly, passing the little bar, eyes on the center of the room, scanning the group, looking for another white jacket.

  When someone touches my shoulder.

  I nearly jump and drop the glass of champagne.

  Slowly I turn around and stare up at Westin’s smiling face.

  “Scared you?”

  I shake my head quickly. “No. I was just looking for you.”

  “I’m sure you were.” His smile gets tighter. “This isn’t the place.”

  I lean closer to him. “You’ve been ducking me.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “You haven’t been to your office for lunch all week. Why the sudden change in your routine?”

  He frowns at me. “Maybe I’ve just been too busy for lunch.”

  “Maybe, but I doubt it.”

  “Not everything revolves around you, Bailey. As much as you’d like to think it does.”

  “You don’t know me, asshole. I’m just trying to do what’s best for my mom.”

  We face each other and I can feel my anger starting to rise. I want to slap the asshole in the face for saying that. I’m not being selfish here, not at all. I hate that I’m doing this, but I’m desperate. He has to see that, but he’s too callous to care.

  “You look good,” he says finally.

  I blink a few times at him, surprised by this sudden turn. “Uh, thanks.”

  “I like you in that dress.” He cocks his head slightly. His eyes raze over my body and I feel a thrill run through my chest.

  No, stop that. I can’t let myself feel anything for this man… much less excitement.

  He’s an arrogant bastard. I’m not going to let him ignore me and try to sweet talk his way out of this.

  But then again, he looks good, too. He’s not wearing a white jacket like the other doctors. He’s in a perfectly tailored black suit with a tight-fitting white shirt underneath, perfectly pressed and crisp, but no tie. It looks European and clean and gorgeous on him. I’m tempted to run my hand along his sides and up his back, let my fingers feel the muscles all along his body.

  I have to look away before I let my mind wander down that path.

  “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s go talk.”

  I look back at him. “Really?”

  “Really. Somewhere private.”

  I nod. “Anywhere.”

  He smirks a little. “You sure you want to be alone in a room with me, Bailey?”

  “You’re harmless.”

  He laughs gently and leans closer, like he’s whispering the punchline of a joke in my ear. “I promise, I’m far from harmless.”

  I blush a little as he pulls back. We’re so close for an instant and I feel his hand on my lower back.

  But he slips away. “Come on,” he says.

  I follow him back down through the lobby. We walk past a group of chatting doctors, one of which shoots him a look, but he ignores it. We get into the elevator and ride it up to his office.

  Once inside, he sits down. My mom’s folder is right on his desk and I think he’s actually been reading it.

  “I’ve been thinking about this,” he says softly.

  “Really?”

  “Really.” He cocks his head and nods at a second chair. I slowly sit down across from him, heart racing.

  “Will you do it?”

  “Maybe,” he says.

  I clench my jaw. “I’m not here for a maybe.”

  “Too bad. That’s what you get right now.”

  “What do you want, Westin?”

  He smiles, an eyebrow raised. “Funny you ask that. This really is about what I want.”

  I clench my jaw tighter, hands balled into fists. “Tell me.”

  He leans closer. “I want you, Bailey.”

  My hands loosen, my jaw slacks. I stare at him, surprised, heart racing again. “Excuse me?”

  “You,” he says. “I want you. If you want me to risk my career on this surgery, you’d better make it worth my while.”

  I blink rapidly, my heartbeat threatening to make me pass out. “So you want… me?”

  “If I do this surgery, I want every inch of you.” His voice is a soft purr, almost a growl.

  “What does that mean?”

  He shrugs slightly. “What it sounds like. I’ll perform the surgery on your mother, and then I’ll have you. Maybe for… two months? Every single night, every inch of your body, no limits, no holding back. I’ll have you until I get my fill.”

  I gape at him, shocked… and strangely excited. I feel that pulse between my legs again, that wetness starting to gather, and I have to force myself to calm down. I won’t let him get me worked up like this… not with some insane idea.

  I rock back in my chair, trying to decide if he’s being real. His eyes are serious and he’s leaning toward me with that hungry expression, but the idea is just nuts. I mean, he wants me to be his sex toy for two months… in exchange for saving my mother’s life? I can’t imagine anything more absurd.

  And yet I’m considering it.

  I mean, really considering it.

  I can’t help myself. Thinking about his hands on my body drives me wild with anticipation. And I already know that I’d do anything to take some pain away from my mother.

  If giving him my body is what it takes….

  Maybe I can do that.

  I take a deep breath and shake my head. “I can’t.”

  He looks disappointed. “Can’t, or won’t?”

  “Not two months.”

  A little smile slips onto his lips. “Ah. So we’re negotiating.”

  I cross my arms. “One week.”

  “Five weeks.”

  “One week,” I repeat.

  “That’s not how a negotiation works.”

  “I’m not
negotiating, Dr. Turner. I’m telling you that I’m willing to give you what you want, but on my terms and only on my terms.”

  He watches me for a second before chuckling softly. He smiles, clearly delighted, which only pisses me off more.

  “Okay then,” he says. “I’ll tell you what. Two weeks of doing anything I want, and I’ll operate on your mother.”

  I shake my head. “I said one.”

  He leans toward me again, a glint in his eye. “Remember, sweet girl, I’m the one with power here. I don’t need to help your mother at all… but you need me.”

  I bite my lip, forcing myself not to curse him out. Arrogant bastard, he knows he has me.

  My heart’s racing in my chest. I can’t believe I’m considering this. Two weeks as this man’s sex toy, letting him do anything he wants to me, whenever he wants it. I should be offended. I should scream in his face.

  I’m not some object to be used.

  Then again…

  Maybe I am. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

  I could be his object. I could be his little toy.

  I could let him touch me… fingers trail along my skin, lips press against mine… I could let him get me off. I could taste him, biting down onto his shoulder as he slides himself deep between my legs. I could do that…

  I think I’d like it.

  Okay, who am I kidding. I think I’d love it.

  But I hate giving in to this guy. He’s such a self-centered arrogant prick. He can’t just help my mother because she’s a human and therefore worth helping. No, he has to get something out of it.

  He has to get me.

  Bastard. God, what a bastard.

  “I’ll do it,” I say finally.

  “Good girl.” He grins broadly. “I knew you’d give in.”

  “I’m not giving in, asshole. I’m trying to save my mother.”

  He shrugs a little. “Whatever you say. Just between us though, I would’ve gone down to five days.”

  I gape at him. “You… you…”

  He laughs, shaking his head. “Just kidding. Relax, Bailey, relax. We’re going to help your mom, you and me.”

  “You and me?” I ask, forcing myself not to lose my cool. He thinks he can just jerk me around for his own amusement, but I’m not about to let this guy win.