I smiled.
“Meanwhile, give me an example.”
“So many to choose from. Where would I even begin?”
“Somewhere. Anywhere. Urgently, please.”
I grinned wider, sifting through the millions of fantasies I’d had of Blake all these years.
“One of my fantasies was pleasuring you.”
Blake groaned. A good groan. Aholy crap, that is hotgroan.
“I used to imagine that I would, like, hide beneath the table, where nobody else could see me, and you’d be sitting there, trying to be all serious and dark and brooding, but beneath the table, I’d have you in my mouth.”
He shifted his hand against his now-bulging front.
“Everyone else would see you being normal, but they wouldn’t be in on the secret. That beneath the tablecloth, you’d be buried in my throat.”
When Blake shifted his hips again, visibly uncomfortable with his growing erection, I shrugged the cashmere blanket offmy shoulders and knelt between his legs. His smile expanded as he set down his wine, and I worked his waistband, pulling his pants to his ankles.
But just as my fingers reached for his boxer briefs, his cell phone rang. Blake’s face transformed with a clenching jaw and eyes narrowing. He stared at the screen like he was contemplating how satisfying it would be to chuck his iPhone off the roof. Then a look of resignation settled over his features, like his duty as a doctor was cockblocking his personal life.
“I’m sorry, Tess.” The words came out through gritted teeth. “I have to take this.”
He jabbed the button. “Dr. Morrison.” His voice was professional, but barely masking his frustration. “Is the patient stable?” Pause. “Good. That means he’s not critical. Walk me through what you’ve done so far.”
Blake muted it for a second, running a hand through his hair. “Intern,” he explained, the word dripping with both sympathy and irritation. “The other ER doc is working a critical case, so I have to walk him through this. Sorry, it might take a while.”
I caught the important details in his explanation like breadcrumbs: patient stable, not critical, other doctor just busy.
That sounded like something he could … multitask. Right?
I tugged his boxers.
“What are you doing?” Blake whispered, covering his phone’s microphone.
“Take your call, Dr. Morrison. I’ll find a way to entertain myself.”
I smirked mischievously and rolled my tongue along the crown of his head.
Blake’s eyes darkened, but he reached for the thread of resistance.
“Stop,” he whispered.
Giving him another mischievous smile, I trailed my tongue down along the shaft and then slowly drew it up, performing swirling circles on the crown, watching as Blake’s mouth hung open in ecstasy. I repeated the moves several times while Blake struggled to keep his voice level and even, answering a series of questions from this intern. All while boring his hungry stare into me.
It occurred to me that Blake was this powerful doctor who other people called for advice. But here he was, at the mercy of my tongue. After one long final swirl around the tip, I drew him into my mouth slowly. Methodically. His girth made it difficult, so I pulled back up and then took him in, one inch at a time.
I wasn’t sure if the intern could hear the change in Blake’s tone, but I definitely did. I definitely felt his fingers lock on the back of my head as I took him deeper into my mouth until I hit a gag reflex.
My eyes watered, so I pulled back, but focused on relaxing my throat until I took him all the way in.
That made his head roll back, his voice becoming more impatient with the intern’s never-ending list of questions. While he spouted a bunch of medical jargon, I began bobbing.
I liked tasting him. I liked having him in my mouth, and I liked being the one that was secretly pleasuring him.
The conversation seemed to go on for an eternity, but I loved every moment of it. Every stroke, every lick, every finger tug at my hair, and all the while, I was getting hotter and hotter, an aching pulse demanding attention between my thighs.
