Page 46 of Lethal Attraction

My mouth moves before my head rips down to the chart. My eyes shift between the stunning patient before me, and the patient I’m supposed to be seeing. “I—how did you—”

“I am Mrs. Johnson,” she winks.

Oh.

I tuck my chart into my side, still stunned by seeing her here. In person. With me. “I don’t understand…”

She bites her bottom lip, making my blood rush to other regions as I watch her with rapt interest. “I want to play doctor and patient with you, Reed.”

I swallow past the thickness in my throat before clearing it and attempting to still my fluttering heart. Normally, I would question the professionalism and integrity of performing such an act in a clinic. It’s wrong and unethical.

But my blood is fucking boiling and I can’t say no to her. Not with her this close, clouding my judgement.

My eyes burn into her as I use my toe to slide the short rolling chair over to me. As I sink down onto it, Thalia’s gaze becomes half-lidded like a siren’s, all heat and beckoning me closer. Resisting is futile as I look up at her and her legs spread to accommodate me as I inch between her knees.

She’s in another black dress that stops mid-thigh, with fishnets tucked into heeled black boots. Her hair waterfalls over her shoulders, long raven-colored tresses that shine under the fluorescent lights. She smells like cherry perfume and everything utterly fucking sweet with the world. My mouth is watering.

My breathing has become deeper as I unwrap my stethoscope from my neck. “And what seems to be the problem today, Mrs. Johnson?”

Thalia leans closer to me, the space between us becoming overcharged and electrified. Her pale blue eyes shift between mine before dipping down to my lips then back up. Heat coils low in my stomach at her proximity.

“I’ve been feeling restless,” she mutters softly. “Thought maybe you could examine me.”

The teasing lilt in her voice nearly undoes me. I force myself to breathe evenly as my fingers tighten around the stethoscope. “I’ll take care of you.”

Her breath catches faintly at my promise. For a second, neither of us move. Then she smiles—that slow, dangerous grin that always makes me feel as if I’m standing too close to the edge of a cliff, but the winds and currents below me are too enticing to step away.

“I was hoping you would say that, Dr. Dreamy.” She confesses.

I clear my throat again, forcing myself into an emblem of professionalism as my hands begin to vibrate with anticipation at the first touch of her pale skin. “Well,” I say, my voice rough, “we should probably start with a basic exam—”

My fingers graze her knee, and I rejoice in the heat of her flesh. Before she presses the toe of her boot to my chest, pushing me back.

“Ah, ah,” she croons. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, Doctor. I need to show you where my pain is.”

Fuck, I’m trembling. My cock is so hard it’s pressing painfully against my slacks. Yet, somehow, I know this is her game. She wants me aching for her, and I’m already there.

I ease back, holding my hands up in surrender. “Then show me, Mrs. Johnson.”

She follows my lead, resting back further on the table as her supple thighs part and my head goes empty. Miles of toned legs, her sexy tattoo, and the edge of her dress’s skirt teasing the tops of her thighs has me entirely intoxicated on her. It’s made even worse when her thin fingers shift the fabric aside, revealing her pantyless pussy to me.

She props one heel up on the edge of the bed, staring down at her lap as she uses her hand to slide her fishnets aside.

“Thalia,” I beg in a rasp as my chest rises and falls. I can smell the heady scent of her arousal and the glistening of her pretty pink cunt is making my judgement hazy with lust.

“That’s not my name,” she giggles, scolding me playfully as she slides a digit through her folds. Her mouth opens on a breathless sound that shoots straight to my sac as I watch her touch herself in my office.

“I need your help, Doctor.” She says quietly, curling a finger inward as she slicks it inside of her, and I snap.

I push forward, my hands pawing at her thighs. “Please—fuck—please let me touch you.”

She hums in approval, her other hand curling tightly into the crown of my hair as she controls my head. “I don’t want your fingers, Reed. I want to fuck your face and cum all over that perfect jaw.”

I’ve never been so turned on in my whole fucking life. Seeing her in control is doing something strange to me. I want her to tell me what to do. I want her to take this power.

To punctuate her words, she extracts her fingers from her pussy, holds them up between us, and then shoves them past my lips. Her taste explodes across my senses, taking my breath away as I lap at her thin digits until every damn drop is gone. I feel like I’m going insane.

“Such a good boy,” she praises, making something unfurl inside of me.