Dr. Chase Hudson (The Surrogate Book 2) (19 page)

Maybe a part of me was angry with her. But a bigger,
more prominent part just wanted to know her better. Know the things
she liked. The places she frequented.

“For fuck's sake,” I said to myself,
shaking my head. I was starting to sound like a fucking stalker. But
I parked and went into the beat up Italian place around the corner
from her place.

The black and white checkered floors were worn but the
bright red paint on the walls was fresh. The counter and tables were
made of an old, beat-up wood that was soft with age. The bell chimed
as I walked in and a man came out of the back, his belly spilling
over his waistband, a thick mustache over a severe mouth. “Eat,”
he said, pushing a menu toward me.

I nodded was I went over to a table to sit and look
over my options.

I had just ordered when the bell over the door chimed
and my head snapped up automatically.

It was like a kick to the gut. Or a fall from a swing.
It was like the wind was knocked out of me.

Because there she was- looking fresh and relaxed,
smiling at the owner who barked the same word he barked at me, at
her. “Yes,” she said and held up her hand, showing him
three fingers and he shuffled off.

I don't know what
came over me then, but it was something dark and bitter that made my
words come out almost cruel, “Hey there,
stranger.
..”

She jumped, spinning to face me. Her eyes went huge as
she stared. “What are you doing here?”

“A girl I know told me this is the best Italian.
I came to see for myself.”

It happened fast. Fast enough that she went from a one
to a ten in a blink. Her eyes got huge, her hand moved to her throat
like she was suffocating.

The dark and bitter was washed away among a wave of
bone-deep concern. “Ava... hey,” I started, my voice calm
and soothing. “Take a breath.”

But a few seconds passed and she didn't, her eyes
getting bigger and bigger, her body starting to shake slightly.

Then she turned and ran.

By the time I got up and to the door to follow her, she
was lost in the crowd.

“Fuck!” I yelled loud enough for the owner
to come out of the back, brows drawn down. Seeing me, he just
shrugged and disappeared again.

When he came back
out with a huge bag and looked around, saying, “Tr
è
?”,
I just
raised my hand and pulled out my wallet.
If she went anywhere, she went home. So I paid, took the bag, and I
walked toward her apartment building.

“Hey, Dr. Sexy,” Shay greeted with a smile,
but a brow was lifted.

“She here?” I asked, pushing past her.

“No man,” Jake said from the kitchen. “She
ran to get Italian.”

“Here's your Italian,” I said, shoving the
bag toward his chest.

“Chase, what's going on?” Shay asked, tone
firm.

“I was at the Italian place and Ava came in. She
had a panic attack and flew out of there before I could calm her
down.” Jake and Shay shared a look. A pointed one. It was a
look that said a thousand words. They knew something. They knew
something that I wasn't going to be let in on. “What's going on
guys?”

Shay opened her mouth to speak, but Jake cut her off.
“Dunno man. She just has those things sometimes.”

The door opened half an hour later and in walked Ava,
looking calmer. She wasn't completely back to normal, but she was
alright. She was at a five. Not great, but getting better.

“Well, finally,” Jake greeted her, his
mouth full since he ripped open the bags ten minutes before declaring
'it's not like it's going to help her anxiety for us to go hungry'.
“Just leave us here to fucking starve. Luckily Chase here cared
enough about our...”

Ava's eyes fell to me and everything else became
background noise.

“Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath and I braced for the mask to
fall into place. But it didn't. “Better,” she said,
placing her purse down on the table beside the door and moving across
the apartment.

“Yo, where did ya' go?” Shay asked, making
both of us turn our heads in her direction.

My gaze quickly turned back to Ava. “I had a
phone session with Dr. Bowler.”

My stomach twisted
to the point of genuine pain. She had a session with Dr. Bowler. She
had gone out of her way to contact her other shrink, probably calling
her away from other patients, to talk to her. I had been right there.
I had been
right there
and she didn't turn to me.

“Ava... why didn't you talk to me?”

She shook her head, unable to meet my gaze. “I
don't know. I just... panicked. I needed to get out of that place.
Once I got somewhere, I picked up my phone and...”

“You could
have called
me
,”
I said quietly, closing the space between us.

“I just... wasn't thinking,” she said,
looking up at me from under my lashes. The vulnerability in her eyes
made me want to wrap her up so nothing could ever make her feel that
way again. But that wasn't my fucking place.

“It's okay,” I said, allowing my hand to
move out and stroke her cheek. “As long as you're alright.”

“I am. That was just... a bad one.”

“Okay,”
I said, my hand trailing from her cheek to her neck, then resting on
her
shoulder. Ava's gaze slid past me to where
Shay and Jake were, no doubt, watching us intensely. I made my hand
drop on a slow exhale. “I'll see you in forty minutes, okay? Or
I can wait here if you're still not feeling well.”

“I'm okay,” she said, looking me in the
eye. “I'm just going to shower and change and I'll be over.”

I made my voice drop so that only she could hear me,
leaning in slightly. “Okay, baby. I'll be waiting for you.”

I let her open the door and close it behind me, sinking
back against it for a moment, looking for the strength to keep going.

It took longer than my pride would let me admit.

But eventually, I left.

I went to my office and I waited to see which version
of her I would get that night.

Eighth Session

I had been prepared for a lot of things. Or, at least,
that was what I was tried to tell myself. No matter what Ava I was
faced with, I was going to handle it. Calmly. With at least a
semblance of professionalism.

But that was before I walked out of my office to find
Ava already inside the front door.

“Ava...”

Then her hand went
to the button of her coat, pushed it through the hole, and discarded
the material.
That dress.
Red
material in the shape of an hourglass in the front, the sides and
straps made of a see through black mesh-like material. It clung like
a second skin and... that
body
in that
dress
...

“
Fuck
me,
” I growled. Then she lifted her
chin and moved in a slow circle, showing me the back which was the
same see through black mesh from the straps to
very
low on her hips. I held an arm out, wanting her to come toward me.
She did. As soon as she was close enough, I slid my hands down her
arms and took her hands. “You are
so
fucking beautiful.”

She swallowed hard before speaking. “Thank you.”

My hands squeezed hers and led them to my shoulders.
One of my hands went to her lower back, pressing her body to mine as
my other moved to her jaw, tilting her face toward mine. “There
she is,” I said, half to myself. “I missed her.”
And I fucking did.

I lowered my face to hers, sinking in deep. I kissed
her like it was the first time. Like it was the last. She kissed me
back like her soul recognized the need in mine. Her body pressed into
mine. Her hands went around my neck.

“Okay,” I said, pulling away. “Bed.
Now.”

I grabbed her hand, holding it tight, as I led her
through the office, past the sidebar and toward the bed. I sat,
pulling her upright body between my open legs, and looked up at her.
I felt my heart in my eyes and I didn't even fucking try to mask it.

“Do you want to know about this session?” I
asked, beginning to loathe the formality of it all.

Her hand moved out, brushing a strand of my hair back
off my forehead, her fingers trailing down the side of my face and my
neck until her palm flattened on my shoulder. “Sure.”

“This all depends on your limits, okay? Just
because this is the way it is planned out, doesn't mean it is the way
it has to be. If you're not into it, we move onto something else.
Okay?”

Her brows furrowed a little. “Okay.”

Right to the
chase, I asked, “How do you feel about anal sex?” I
watched, looking
for any sign of anxiety,
especially given her panic attack earlier.

Anal sex was a touchy subject. Always. Professionally.
Personally. Most men wanted it but were afraid to ask about it. Many
women were curious but too afraid to admit it. So even extremely
experienced, sexually confident women had gone without it when they
harbored a secret desire for it. Which made asking Ava about it
incredibly nerve-wrecking.

“Ava...” I said when a long silence hung
between us.

“I'm thinking,” she said, rolling her eyes
at me.

“Alright,” I said, my hands sliding down
her thighs to push up her skirt a little so she could straddle me.
“Then why don't you come here and think about it?” I
suggested.

She didn't hesitate, just climbed up on my lap and
rested her head against my shoulder. The sweetness of it made the
days full of frustration and confusion slip away. My arms went around
her, holding her close.

“It's okay if you're not into it.”

“I don't know if I am into it or not.”

“That's alright,” I said, my hands sliding
up and down her back, the feel of her body heat through the silky
mesh material was positively erotic. “Do you think you want to
try it?” I asked, attempting to keep hopefulness out of my
voice.

There was a pause before her sweet lips pressed into my
neck. “Yes.”

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Good
girl,” I said, turning my face slightly so I could kiss the
side of her head. “We'll start with regular sex first though,
okay? Get you all warmed up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Now get a condom,” I said, slapping
her ass playfully, trying to put her at ease. She laughed, hopping
off of me and coming back with a condom that I took and laid on the
bed beside me. “Arms up,” I instructed and then ever so
slowly inched the material off of her body, enjoying watching her
skin flush in desire. Material gone, she moved to step out of her
shoes. “No,” I said, a little too firm. “The shoes
stay on.”

I let my eyes rake over her body from her black
red-bottom fuck-me heels to her soft hair, then back over it all
again. Until she was squirming under my gaze. Slowly, shockingly, she
lowered herself down on her knees before me. Her hands moved out
toward my belt, unfastening it and then pulled my zipper open. I
watched, already hard as fucking steel, as she reached inside and
pulled out my cock. She leaned forward and quickly sucked me down to
the hilt, making my hand slam down on the crown of her head.

“Fuck, baby.
So sweet,” I murmured and she started to suck me. Slow. Soft.
Flicking her tongue over the head at every pass. I let myself sink
into the sensation for a long time until I felt the clawing need for
release get closer. “Okay.
Fuck.
Okay. Baby, stop,” I said and she moved away, sitting back on
her heels and smiling at me. Proud. She was proud of herself. And
happy.

Jesus Christ.

I wanted to see her looking just like that forever.

But that wasn't in my stars.

“Panties off. On the bed,” I instructed and
watched as she shimmied out of her thong and crawled into the bed
beside me, lying down. I stood, watching her as I removed my clothes.
“Legs straight up,” I told her. Up they went. “Cross
your ankles.” She crossed her ankles, giving me a view of her
perfect legs, her sweet little ass, and her pussy. “Fuck, fuck
me,” I groaned, tossing aside my shirt. “This view, baby?
Fucking perfect.”

I reached for the condom, slipping it on, then moved a
finger up her slick folds, finding her clit and circling it. She
whimpered, her legs moving downward. “I said legs up, ankles
crossed.”

Her legs went up again and I moved closer, taking her
ankles and placing them against one of my shoulders. In one thrust, I
was buried deep in her pussy.

“Ohmygod,” she groaned, her thighs and
pussy clenching.