Pink Shades of Words: Walk 2016 (20 page)

I wasn’t sure how I was going to write up this appointment in his chart. I ended up using the word “touched” for stroked. Noting he stroked himself in front of me was too unprofessional to write down in black and white, especially for my first solo appointment.

“Why should I do a thing you say? You’ve been my shadow over the last week. Appearing at the office, begging to see me. Following me out of my apartment building. And now this.” I had a hand on each hip waiting for his response.

“Not here,” He hissed as he scanned the sidewalk area. “We won’t be alone,” He pointed to the amused driver smiling at us. I could only imagine what was going through his mind. Big, brawny football player desperately seeking a stubborn woman, me.

“You’re not making your case very well. You’ve been kicked out of my office and I’m about ready to call the cops.”

“I just need to talk to you. Like I said-.”

“It’s a matter of life and death,” I finished off his sentence. The same one he used all week when he tried to get my attention. I didn’t know why I was on the brink of caving to his demand now. Maybe it was his purely masculine and unforgettable scent making me high and stupid. More than likely it was all the drinks I downed in the last hour.

“Okay, but I don’t want to see you again after tonight.” I said...with absolutely zero conviction.. I knew the truth. I would be seeing him every night in my dreams...

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C
HAPTER THREE

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W
e are both seated in the cab when Marcus gives the driver an address. I raised a brow at Marcus knowing we weren’t going to my place. He hadn’t even asked. 

“Where the hell are you taking me?” I scooted to the furthest corner of the backseat by my door. I wanted distance. Hell, I needed out of this damn cab, because Marcus looked too damn good for my peace of mind.

“Would it scare you if I said I was kidnapping you?” I gripped the door of the cab and glanced up at the driver. He had an amused smile on his face. I was sure he knew who shared the backseat with me. Marcus was the golden boy of this city. He owned it with every pass he made, both on and off the football field.

A week ago, if I had this same conversation with Marcus, I would have been demanding him to take me back to his lair for a full-frontal tackle between my legs. But I met him while wearing a white coat and examined his fine body with a latex-gloved hand. I can’t remove my professional hat no matter how bad he made me want to remove my clothes.

“Come on. Where are you taking me?” I chose to ignore the kidnap comment altogether, because it played into my naughty fantasies.

“To my coach’s apartment in the city.” He made the statement sound so matter-of-fact like.

“Does he need medical care too?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” I answered Marcus with a shake of my head. “He wants to talk to you about me. I think I’ve scared you this week.”

“You have shown up everywhere I’ve been. Like you’ve been following me around.” Marcus shifted his eyes away from me and lowered his head. “You have been, haven’t you,” I demanded.

“Okay. Yes.” He looked up and pleaded with his blue crystal-like eyes that sparkled even though the streetlights were dim and sparse. “But I have a very good reason.”

I prayed it was because he fell madly in love with me during our one brief encounter. I glanced down at his crotch in memory and swallowed at the thought of all ten inches of him, even if he would be next to impossible to fit in my mouth. I have seen cocks of all shapes and sizes, but his was flipping beautiful. And his ass... Well, it was so tight I could’ve bounced a coin off of it.

“And you can’t tell me what’s up?

“It’s complicated,” he said while running his long fingers through his thick and glorious hair. I can’t remember how many times I dreamt of having that head between my legs as my fingers weaved through his hair. I closed my eyes knowing I was in deep doo-doo here.

“It’s complicated on my end too,” I replied back to his non-answer response. “You’re my patient and I can’t cross the personal line with you.” No matter how hard I wanted to.

“I’ve severed all ties with your office. I’m no longer a patient at your practice.”

“Right. You’re cured now.” I peeked down at the general area where his former issue was and then back up at his eyes.

“I can’t say I’m cured, but I know who can cure my problems.”

“Who?” My voice was as quiet as a whisper, but he heard me.

“You.”

This entire night and last few days started to make more sense to me. Well, partly. Marcus was clearly delusional and troubled. Maybe the pressure of bringing home a trophy to Chicago’s rabid fans made him snap.

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C
HAPTER FOUR

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“D
r. Jones, I mean, Cali,” Marcus said. “This is Coach Larson.”

I stood outside a penthouse apartment door in an awkward three-way setting. I had no clue what the night would bring, but I wanted answers.

“Hello, Dr. Jones,” Coach Larson reached out his hand to shake mine. “We’ll keep things formal for now.”

The coach moved away from the door and Marcus placed his large hand on the small of my back. I felt his thumb rub back and forth over the silk of my blouse while he gently ushered me inside the penthouse. The skyline view overlooking downtown Chicago greeted me and I was drawn to the window to see more.

“Wow,” I said in awe. Marcus was right beside me as I stood near the floor to ceiling windows.

“My apartment is on the other side of the hallway. Coach and I share this floor,” Marcus whispered into my ear. His hands found their way to my lower back and his fingers did the same magic as before. My panties were wet from just his slight touch.

“Is that so,” I replied in a husky voice while turning my head to the side and eyeing the football Adonis next to me.

“Glad you like the view,” Coach said behind me with a laugh. My blatant gawking of his star player wasn’t hard to miss. “I will make this real quick, Dr. Jones. Please take a seat.”

I spun around to face Coach, then moved to where he was standing near the large leather sectional taking up most of the living area. I found a corner on the couch and sat down. Marcus parked himself right next to me, as in his big commanding thighs pressed into mine. But I had nowhere to go, so call me trapped, in more ways than one.

“Coach is going to explain everything.” Marcus reached for my hand and wrapped his big football paw over mine. I could see only the tips of my fingertips sticking out of his fist. I glanced down at his feet and realized for the first time that he walked around on virtual skis. I bet he wore a size 15, at least. Made sense. I saw his “manhood” in its full glory and it was huge, but in the most satisfying ways. I gave Marcus a sly smile and watched his eyes go big. The little gesture was the first not-so-subtle flirt I had slung his way.

“Okay,” I said while Coach took a seat on the dark wood coffee table placed in front of Marcus and I. “I can’t wait to hear what’s up,” I gave the Coach a little wink and he raised his brows with a nod or two.

“Smart one with a smart mouth,” Coach said. “But I like her. A lot.”

“Me, too,” Marcus cooed in my ear. His hot breath made a cool shiver run down my spine that ended between my legs. A place I wished for years had more action.

“Me, three,” I giggled. “Give it to me straight up.”

“Oh my God,” Marcus muttered under his breath. “She’s killing me here.”

“Here’s the story.” I sat back into the plush brown leather as I had a feeling this story would take some time to tell.

“A few months ago, Marcus went on a complete bender down in New Orleans. Let’s just say he was having fun with the women,” Coach added  with an eyebrow wiggle.  Nothing new really from the reports I have heard around town. “On his last night in NOLA, he met a mysterious woman at a bar. She promised him the sex of his life and he left the bar with her. They went back to his hotel room for the evening. After what he tells me was a marathon sexcapade, he offered to give her enough money for a cab and a Louis Vuitton bag.”

Coach rolled his knowing brown eyes and shook his head. “The woman became offended and walked around the room speaking fast under her breath. Marcus couldn’t make out what she was saying, but knew she was angry as hell. And hell hath no fury as a woman who thinks she’s scorned. See, she wanted to snuggle into Marcus’ side for the night and have little football babies with him. She thought they had something special and was hurt and wounded when she learned otherwise.”

Coach turned from me to Marcus. “Gotta know the kind of women you bring home son. You misread this one and it cost you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that poor Marcus ran into a little trouble.” The sarcasm in my voice laced my words. “But I don’t know how I can help you here.”

“Well the story is more than just about a scorned woman. She was a voodoo priestess.” My mind immediately went to my bestie, Taylor. She has warned me over the years about voodoo and all its powers. She told me to never mess with that shit. Seeing how she was the closest thing I had to a spiritual authority, I took her advice.

“The woman, we will call her, Tarot, pulled out a set of cards and sat on the floor by the bed. She spoke in an unknown language and placed the cards down in a square. When she was finished, she doubled over with laughter. It made the hairs on Marcus’ arms stand straight up. He had a feeling he was sunk.” I watched Marcus as he rubbed his hands over his thighs in a nervous motion. He didn’t appear so cocky and self-assured, instead when he looked at me, I saw a spooked man.

“Finally, the woman gathered up her cards and stuffed them in her large bag. She asked Marcus if he wanted to know what was in store for him and he said yes,” Coach threw up his hands in surrender and shook his head again. “I swear, if he didn’t know what she conjured up with those cards, he never would’ve been effected. I think it’s all been in his mind,” Coach tapped a forefinger to his temple.

“Coach, you had to be there,” Marcus spoke up in his defense. “The woman was wild-eyed and crazy.”

“Fine. It’s water under the bridge at this point,” Coach motioned with his hand to dismiss the topic of this still unknown-to-me problem created by Tarot. “She told Marcus that he was now cursed and that his player ways had caught up with him.”

“Man, I can barely listen to this conversation without feeling sick to my stomach.” Marcus rubbed over his stomach and looked over at me with scared eyes, the kind that made a man shake in his boots. This woman sure spooked the shit out of him.

“So here’s what her curse was. Marcus wouldn’t be able to have a full erection until he met the woman he would marry. His one true love,” Coach finished his sentence and let it hang in midair. Eventually the true love part became clear as it landed on my thick skull when Coach pointed his eyes directly at me.

“Me,” I blurted out.

“Yes, Dr. Jones. Until he came into your office the day of his appointment, he hadn’t had an erection since Tarot left the hotel room. See, whether or not he’s cursed doesn’t really matter, he believes he is, so nothing is working in the sex department.”

“Wow,” I whistled through my lips.

“Marcus thought he was cured the day he saw you. But later that night, after a quick hookup, he learned otherwise. Then you probably saw him lurking as your shadow this past week. Thanks for not turning his sorry ass over to the cops for stalking you by the way.”

“Well, I was beginning to wonder what the hell was up. I was more afraid that I might cross some professional line.” The truth was I wanted to cross that line badly, but knew I better refrain. Something about eight years of crazy med school made me cautious and unable to throw all cares out the window and into Marcus’ pants. I would never doubt my willpower again.

“So here’s the deal. Marcus needs your help. I need your help. His teammates need your help. Hell, the entire city of Chicago needs your help.” I rolled my eyes and huffed. The start of his appeal made it seem like the future of the entire world sat on my shoulders.

“We need for you to be Marcus’ wife for at least three months. I would prefer a year, but let’s start here.”

“Wait a second. His wife?” I rose from the couch and walked away from the two men, but I could feel their eyes burning up my backside.

My hands began to shake as I thought about the consequence, mostly as they related to my profession. A doctor needs a pristine reputation. Spotless. This type of deal could likely get very messy and painful, especially to my heart.

I glanced over my shoulder at Marcus. Beautiful, perfect Marcus, who believed I held the key to his sexual future and total happiness. The weight of his expectations pushed down on my shoulders. I was barely able to find my own happiness as a human being. This burden would be a challenge no matter how gorgeous and sexy the man was behind the issues.

“I need to know all the details.” I took a seat in a lone chair away from Marcus. His smell intoxicated me and sitting so close to him made my mind fuzzy with pent-up desires. Distance worked, even if it was only a few feet away.

Coach picked up a few papers off the coffee table. The sheets were legal sized and spelled one thing out very clearly to me. Contract. Whatever Coach was about to offer me would be binding. I sighed as he walked near me with his hands outstretched. I took the papers in my hands and watched them shake.

“I get the nerves,” Coach laughed, but even his laughter seemed forced. How the hell could this situation get any more uncomfortable? Well, I was about to find out.

“Let’s go over the major points. First off. This contract requires a signed NDA from all parties involved. Even me as the facilitator for Marcus during this meeting.” So far this conversation sounded so sexy. Not! I mean what woman dreams of enduring a relationship with a muzzle on her mouth? Well, besides those enjoying that kind of kink.

“You will agree to be Marcus’ wife for a flat fee of one million dollars after taxes. You will attend functions with him. Be seen on his arm. Live in his penthouse. He will dote on you in public.”