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“Uh-huh,” I mutter, at a loss for words.
What have I gotten myself into?
Chapter Three
AVA
For a second, I stop to think about Stacey and our conversation last night about having a few more days left of freedom. We become surgical interns at Penn General on Monday. I need one night of mind-blowing sex with a hot doctor to make up for the years I will miss out on having any fun.
My father had told me stories about sleeping on gurneys in crowded hallways between his shifts as a resident, long before I ever got my acceptance letter to Columbia University, his alma mater. I did the same thing as him a fair share of times while I was in medical school, shifting between the university and my clinical requirements at the hospital.
Sloan leads me by the hand out of the bar and to the front desk in the lobby. This must be why Stacey chose this place for our date. That sneaky little bitch. Her plan worked.
The woman at the desk eye-fucks the shit out of Sloan, and I try not to roll my eyes. She leans over the counter, shoving her boobs together, as she looks up at him. The woman hands Sloan a piece of cardboard that contains two plastic key cards for our room. He guides me toward the elevators with his hand on my lower back. It’s not too late to change my mind.
I should turn around and run out the door before the car opens for us. But it’s too late. I already committed to sleeping with a man I just met. I want to go through with this. What is wrong with me? Who does stuff like this? For years, I was too busy with school to care much about dating.
I always figured I would worry about a relationship once I settled down with my career. The only issue is that I have seven more years until the end of my surgical residency. I cannot wait that long to have a life or to have sex again. Eighteen months is long enough.
We get inside the elevator, the car vacant and mirrored floor to ceiling. Sloan pushes the button for the twentieth floor.
“I don’t normally do stuff like this,” I admit. “I want you to know that before we go through with this.”
He chuckles. “It’s cute how nervous you are around me. We don’t have to do anything if this makes you uncomfortable. I’m not in the habit of forcing women to have sex with me.”
I peek up at him. He’s at least eight inches taller than me, even in Stacey’s heels.
“I’m the one who initiated it,” I confess.
“But you’ve changed your mind?”
I shake my head. “Nope, not at all. I just wanted you to know that I’m not some whore who jumps into bed with strangers all the time. This is legit my first time.”
“We don’t have to do this,” he tells me, taking a step back from me.
“I want to.” I slide my fingers up his arm, staring up at him.
He flashes a closed-mouth smile that reaches up to his eyes.
The car opens to our floor with a loud ding that causes me to jump. I step out of the elevator and into the tiled foyer. Sloan comes up to my side, hooks his arm through mine, and escorts me down the long hall to our room. He sticks the white key card into the slot, waits until the light turns green, and then pushes open the door.
Moment of truth. Can I go through with having sex with a hot stranger? I look up at him, as if I need a reason to have sex with this yummy hunk of man. He closes and locks the door behind us, my anxiety now kicking up another notch.
Sloan comes up from behind me and sets his hands on my hips, pulling my back into his chest. He’s hard and digging his erection into my ass cheek. Dipping his head down to kiss my neck, he moves his hands up to my breasts, cupping them over my dress. I am so done. My nipples harden from his simple touch. There’s no way I can walk away now.
He unzips me, his fingers on my skin, sending a chill down my spine as he helps me out of my clothes. The dress drops to the floor at my feet, leaving me exposed, bared to a man I don’t even know. Everything about this night is uncharacteristic for me. Even my dating profile wasn’t me.
My bra and panties are next, falling to the carpet along with my dress. Sloan spins me around so that our eyes meet, and appraises every inch of my naked body. He flicks his tongue across his bottom lip, his subtle gesture dampening my panties.
“You’re perfect,” he says, twisting my nipple between his fingers.
I moan from his touch. “No, I’m not.”
But I will be whatever he wants as long as he keeps using his hands like this.
Sloan sucks on my bottom lip, his fingers tugging on my nipples, before he sweeps his tongue into my mouth. My body grows warmer from each flick of his tongue, each pinch of my swollen buds that hurt from his rough touch. He’s aggressive with me, but not so much that it bothers me. It has been far too long since the last time I had sex. I need this.
Our mouths separate long enough for Sloan to guide me to the bed and bend me over the edge of the mattress. I place my palms on the comforter and glance over my shoulder at him to watch him undress. Dark tattoos cover parts of his chest, wrap around his biceps, and spread down to his forearms. He’s not like any of the doctors I know, who are more on the conservative side. After throwing his clothes on the floor, he tears open a condom and slides it down his length with a wild hunger in his eyes.
