Page 303 of The Doctors Will See You Now

I shrugged. “Watch the show and decide. You’ve got to be getting pretty tired of writing about Dr. Erotic.” I rolled my eyes.

She laughed. “He has been pretty boring lately.”

“Really?” I teased. “I heard he’s sleeping with his inside source. Seems like a juicy story to me.”

“Ah, see. That’s…yeah. How do I put this?”

I looked on with wide eyes as she stuttered.

She took a deep breath and started again. “Let’s just say that story is a little too real for Gossip.” She lowered her voice to a mutter. “And me.”

I smiled. “What was that last bit?”

The house lights started to dim, and a spotlight shone on the stage. She winced and pointed to the stage. “Sorry. Can’t talk. The show’s starting.”

I shook my head but surrendered. That was fine with me. I didn’t really want to talk anyway.

Grabbing the side of her chair, I pulled her toward me with a rough yank, and she gasped.

I winked, draping my arm around the back of her chair to twirl her hair and then bringing it back so I could rest my hand on her thigh.

“Just wanted to sit close.”

“Why?”

I smiled. “It took a lot of work to get this date. You better believe I’m going to milk it.”

She rolled her eyes and sat back, facing the stage again. When the lights went out completely and the first note of music rang out as a woman in pasties and a G-string took the stage, I leaned over and whispered the rest.

“Plus, I’ll need to be close to finger your cunt. Tell me, Low. Are you wet for me already?”

She squirmed in her seat and crossed her legs, trapping my hand in between them. It took everything I had to follow through with the rest of my plan.

Just words, Scott. No touching.

Well, no touching until later when she was naked and sprawled out across my bed.

To encourage myself, I recited the reasoning behind my strategy.

Anticipation strengthens desire. Anticipation strengthens desire.

By the time we leave here tonight, Harlow’s pretty little pussy will be dripping wet, and I won’t have lifted a finger.

Two steps into Scott’s apartment and my clothes were already flying.

Between one breath and the next, my blouse, bra, skirt, and underwear were tossed haphazardly across the hardwood floor of his living room. I kicked off my stilettos a second later.

I knew he’d done this on purpose—getting me riled up to the point of insanity by teasing me with his hot and dirty words. Strategically, what started out as hot little comments whispered into my ear during the show, evolved into all out dirty—and quite promising—verbal foreplay that left me throbbing and wet in anticipation. I felt crazy. Horny kind of crazy. And if Scott didn’t start fucking me soon, I’d probably have to resort to violence.

Good Lord, I want him.

Luckily, Scott had followed my “we don’t need any fucking clothes” lead and stood gloriously naked before me. I took my time, appreciating the sight of him, and raked my eyes down his body—his big biceps, his flat stomach, the trim hips that led into a V—until I stopped at his cock. Thick. Hard. Ready.

I licked my lips. When it came to Scott naked, especially his cock, I was a fucking fan.

“You like what you see?” he asked, slowly, erotically stroking his hand up and down his length.

Every journey from the base to tip and back again enforced what I’d already been feeling tenfold. I wanted to taste him. Suck him. Kiss him. Feel him inside of me. I wanted everything, and I wanted it all right now. I clenched my thighs together, the sticky evidence of my arousal blatantly painting my skin.