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“Yes,” I whisper while I hump my hand, imagining it’s Lucas’s face instead. What would he look like down there, head buried, eyes locked with mine? Holding me down while he forces me to take all the pleasure he’s giving? “Fuck, yes… yes…”
Is he listening now? Standing outside the door with that huge cock twitching in his pants? Maybe he’s touching himself, jerking himself off to the sound of me fantasizing about him. I let out a moan in case he is close enough to hear.
And something about that heightens the tension. The thought of him getting off to me. “Yes,” I whimper as water splashes everywhere now that my touch is frantic. Needy. “Please, Lucas… make me come…”
I bear down harder, a scream building in my throat when the tension in my core becomes too much. It’s driving me crazy and is going to kill me. “Please…!” I whisper, straining, images overlapping in my brain, the memory of his groans while I blew him mixing up with my imagination until it’s too much. Until there’s nothing to do but explode.
“Lucas!” I gasp a second before it happens. When the unbearable tension dissolves, the sweetest relief washes over me like the water still running down my body. I jerk my hips once, twice, lost in bliss.
Then it clears up, and I come back to reality. To the shower I haven’t finished, and the doctor who is waiting for me. At least I won’t walk into my exam all heated and dripping wet after Lucas left me hanging.
I wash up quickly, then waste no time drying off. The sooner I get this over with, the better. I hope nobody sees me walking around with him, even if I know it’s inevitable. I’m going to run into Quinton and his little wife eventually. Just not today.
He’s not waiting for me in the bedroom, but he left me something on the bed: clothes. Actual clothes made for actual girls, not whatever sweats he manages to find for me in his dresser. They aren’t new—no tags or anything, and they smell like detergent—but I don’t care. It’s not like I’ve never worn castoffs, anyway.
I’m most thankful for the soft socks and comfortable sneakers. The cuts and bruises on my feet have mostly healed, but they still feel better protected while I move around.
“You almost ready?” he barks from out in the living room. I’m amazed he would even leave me alone like this. I wonder if he heard me after all. I wonder what he’s thinking.
“Yeah, give me a minute.” Then, as an afterthought, I add, “Thanks for the clothes.”
“Thank me by putting them on so we can get this over with. I have other things to do today.”
I roll my eyes but move faster, anyway. Now he’s all growly and irritated again. At me, or himself? I can’t help but like thinking I can throw him off his game this way. He’s not in total control of the situation if he can’t be in the same room with me after shaving my pussy. I bet he wishes he’d let me do it myself.
Unless he’s not. Unless he’s kicking himself for not doing more than shaving. He’s just a man, after all. There’s only so much clear thinking they can do when a pussy is around. Now he knows what mine looks like…
I need to stop thinking about this, or I’ll go into this exam all worked up again.
He won’t look me in the eye once I’m out of the bedroom, now wearing jeans and a sweater. “Everything fits?” he asks, heading for the door.
“Yeah, it’s great.” Once we’re out of his apartment, my apprehension swells. I can’t help but feel like there’s a target painted on my back, even down here, away from the students, on the faculty floor.
This place is a maze. I want to memorize the layout so I know where to go if I have to run, but he’s walking too fast. We take the elevator, and he practically runs me down a wide hallway where—thank god—we’re the only two people walking. Is everybody in class? Maybe he chose this time specifically with that in mind.
There’s a pair of doors at the end of the hall. He opens one and steps aside so I can enter the room, where a woman with brown hair and a friendly smile is waiting.
There’s an exam table waiting, too, telling me what I have to look forward to.
“Dr. Lauren, this is Delilah.” Lucas waves a hand between us. “She’s here to get checked out, as we discussed.”
He’s a real charmer. The way her lips twist in a tiny grin suggests she’s thinking along the same lines. “Hi, Delilah. I’ll put you through your paces today, but it won’t take long. We’ll start with drawing blood.”
