Again, the feel of his warm hand on my flesh had me gasping for air as it was placed on the small of my back. He shifted the position ever-so-slightly, as though to settle me into his arms, and I felt a flash of unexpected pleasure. The feeling of embarrassment followed it immediately. All he was doing was giving suggestions and words of comfort. Getting sexual at this very moment was the worst possible idea.

Yet, the more I stayed in his arms, the heavier I became, because I just wanted to be with him more. His perfume was alluring; it was like a combination of wood and leather. He seemed to respond to whatever was going on between us by tensing up and contracting his muscles where I was holding him.

He gripped the side of my face and pulled me back so he could look down into my eyes while his hand in my hair shifted. The intensity of his stare took the life force out of me. cause a tingling sensation in all my nerves.

His stare was menacing. Wild. It made it clear he was contemplating a horrendous act.

We were two individuals standing on the edge of a cliff, terrified that the earth underneath them might give way at any moment and send them tumbling to their deaths. The quick, irregular breathing only helped us raise our shoulders somewhat. My eyes closed as his hand burned across my face.

I knew we were doomed as his eyes wandered to my slightly parted lips, and the worst thing was that I didn't care. Actually, I was hoping it would. As he leaned down to kiss me, I angled my head to meet his.

His soft, tentative kiss shook my whole body and drowned out any other noise. I responded to the tentative probing of his delicate lips on mine. Still, I pushed for it. I let his inquisitive tongue to enter my mouth.

When our careless kiss reached a new level, he took a long breath in via his nose, but it didn't stop him from exploring my lips. The palm of his hand pressed into my back, pulling me closer to him, and his hold on my face tightened. His silky tongue glided past my lips and into mine, sending shivers down my spine.

As he kissed me, I was paralyzed with fear that the spell would be broken if I did something so simple as think, breathe, or move.

By raising me higher with the hand that was cupping my face, Dr. Johnson was able to break the seal between our lips, but his mouth remained on my skin. Rapidly, it swept over my cheekbone and down the side of my neck.

I shivered.

The tremor that rocked my shoulders had nothing to do with the fact that my skimpy bikini was still wet and that air conditioning was blowing on us from a vent above. It wasn't the reason my breasts had become so firm that they protruded from the triangles of my bikini top.

Johnson, MD, was the man in charge.

As he approached and started walking me backwards toward the wall, I almost went tumbling over. He withdrew his hand from behind me and slammed his palm on the wall next to my head.

The sound of his labored breathing invaded my head and ears. What the heck am I doing?

Was he talking to himself? For the simple reason that he didn't stop. A fresh surge of shivers ran through me as his wet lips brushed over my neck and closed on the point where it joined my body. An electric shock surged between my legs as he sucked gently. My hands were tightly clutching his t-shirt while my arms were around his waist.

I knew I shouldn't like it, but I did, and it was fantastic.

I closed my eyes as I lowered my head into his palm, making more place for a kiss on my neck.

The question "You mean, what the heck are we doing?" To be honest, I didn't say much, but I was as invested in this as he was.

The notion slammed in my head as I ran my fingers through his thick hair. Is this dishonesty? The answer is obviously not that. The relationship with David was over when I terminated it. We both wanted more resolution after what I had finished, but we never got it.

As Dr.hand Jonson's slid down the wall and settled on my shoulder, the tips of his fingers brushing against the black thread that held my top in place, my heart sprang into my throat.

In an instant, the temperature in the room went from sweltering to icy. The battle between my mind and body was making me hot and cold. His lips closed over mine as his mouth climbed again up the incline of my neck.

He was older than me by twenty years. The dad of my ex-boyfriend. The question remains, "What was I thinking?" As we are? It was imperative that we seem completely crazy. A wet triangular pattern from my swimsuit bled into his shirt as he forced me up against the wall.

Upon his kiss, I melted into the floor. His mouth's movements on mine were more than merely alluring; they compelled submission. I wanted more of his rapacious kiss than I could possibly get.

What we're doing is wrong, and we need to stop, I said under my breath. The words coming out of my mouth contradicted the message my body was sending. Because of the arch in my back, I was able to push off the wall and make his hand drop. His fingers slowly traced the contour of my breast over my flesh

He moaned into my lips, "I know." When he nibbled at me, the point of one of his fangs just missed my lower lip.

His fingers moved slowly and deliberately along the string, through the fabric, and then out into the cup of my top. The sensation of the swimsuit rubbing on my tender nipples was incredible, and I yearned for more.

His voice crackled with effort. He paused for a while, then said in a shaky voice, "I'm going to keep going until you tell me to stop."

I didn't know whether he was trying to scare me off or convince me.

When I tried to speak, my throat suddenly became tight. I was hoping he wouldn't quit on me. For a while there, I lost any sense of perspective and focused only on myself. To myself, I kept thinking about how remarkable and fascinating this adventure was.

My silence must have given him the idea that I wasn't going to say anything, since his fingers moved slowly inside from the rim of the cup and over my ribs to the bottom string.

As he moved the cloth triangle to the side, revealing my nakedness, I let out a gasp and a little mumble as his hand brushed across my skin. It was enticing to go from the damp, chilly cloth to his warm grasp.

Our kiss was shy at first, but it blossomed into something more passionate as we got to know one another. To my horror, he dove into my lips and ran his tongue lustfully over mine. His fingers trailed and pinched at my nipple, and it teased.

The feelings were so intense that I could feel my body temperature rising to a thousand degrees and I moaned. A dull ache had settled into my gut, and it was becoming louder and more urgent by the second. As soon as Dr. Johnson moved his leg between my knees, everything went nuclear.

When the towel unraveled from around my waist and landed at our feet, I paid it little mind. Instead, I focused on the guy who was applying pressure to my painful spot with the top of his leg. With only one kiss, he had me completely under his control. I'd had a few other male partners before David, but nothing like this.

Oh, I groaned. The grind of his leg against mine sent a jolt of intense pleasure up my spine.

He pulled back from me, and I could see that his eyes had gotten blurry from lack of sleep. His eyes were ablaze with want.

God bless you, Jessica.

His voice was shockingly thick and sexual. I'd known him for three years and had never heard him sound like that before. I gave a little shiver, reveling in the sensation and being unable to stop myself.

As I slumped against the wall and said, "Shit," my heart sank. It was always a goal of mine to avoid using profanity in his presence, but I found myself unable to hold back the swearing this time. I was ready to collapse from weakness in my legs. "Dr.Jonson-"

I'm sure he was aware. He steadied me by tightening his grip on my hips and stepping back. "Carl."

My lungs couldn't take another breath. "What?"

"Carl. It's me; my name's.

Of course I was aware of it. Nonetheless, he insisted that I address him by his first name. He was no longer a child. Really, really elderly compared to me. To me, Carl sounded like the same man I'd only known as Dr.Jonson.

Someone who is unfamiliar with you.

The term was difficult for me to form. My lips parted to call out his name, but no words came out. The silence that followed his departure made the room seem even colder. As his passion faded and was replaced with an unfathomable countenance, the temperature dropped even lower.

Was he beginning to grasp the seriousness of the situation? The phone rang before I could finish my sentence. I recognized the ringtone coming from the pocket of his pants. It was his own personal hospital gown.

When I flinched, his whole body stiffened, and we both became immovable. The expression on his face said he wanted to ignore it, but he couldn't. The phrase "I'm on-call" is used to indicate that you can reach me at any time. I need to get going-"

Yes, "I know you do." I hurriedly nodded and readjusted my bikini in an effort to make it seem like nothing had happened. It's not as if we suddenly realized we were in error.

When he turned off his body heat, the room became chilly. He took out his phone, answered it, and walked around the room as the other person talked.

Although I was slowly gaining composure and coming down from my desire, my eyes lingered over him as he enquired about the patient. His arms, not only his hands, were gorgeous. His forearms and biceps were toned and muscular. Completely lean and toned up.

He seemed quite serious when the conversation ended and we both looked at each other. It's time for me to go. Forgive me.

When he apologized, I didn't press him for details. That he had to go since he was in the middle of something and we were interrupted? The actions we took before to receiving the call? In any case, I was unable to express myself. I couldn't even think of anything to say.

"Jessica." I could see he was in distress. The question "What just occurred..."

He seemed at a loss for words for the first time. I just looked up at him, unable to do anything except take a few quick breaths.

"I took full responsibility for it," he said.

In a moment of confusion, I closed my eyes. Exactly what was he referring to? I was neither forced or convinced by him. He was kissed by me. Everything had been on both sides. I tried to speak out for him, but no words came out of my lips and no thoughts formed in my head.

A deep furrow formed between his eyebrows as he drew them together. The longer the stillness persisted, the more distressed he seemed.

Then it was evident he couldn't hold off any longer. The patient required both his attention and the precision of his scalpel.

He kept saying, "It's my fault." That's what you tell David when you tell him what's going on.

Before I could stop him, he strode to the door, wrenched it open, and left.

To that point, I had kept quiet about the incident. In fact, not even my new closest friend Naria, whom I saw every day during my internship at the animal hospital.

In an effort to put Dr. Johnson and our actions out of my mind, I made a conscious effort to block them out. Instead, my mind kept returning to David. I was becoming more and more irritated by the day that he didn't bother to phone or text. Maintaining concentration on it was less of a challenge. To what extent did he really feel no need for resolution? It just took ten seconds to erase three years of work.

Unless he was making a move to increase his own authority, this makes little sense. Perhaps he had been holding out for my phone call.

And maybe I'd been avoiding it ever since I'd done what I did to his dad. Is there any use in informing him? I didn't want to be the straw that broke the camel's back in the already tepid bond between father and kid. I knew I was being a coward, but I also couldn't see any benefit to coming clean. It wouldn't do anything but to hurt people.

Although David may not have felt the need for it, I was desperate for it and could not wait any longer. I sent him a text message on Friday, nine days after we broke up.

Jessica: Will we be discussing this?

Talk about what, David?

Were you f*cking serious? No, I couldn't possibly go into detail about anything via words.

Jessica: The comments I made while swimming. What exactly are you up to at the moment?

David: I'm occupied with Call of Duty.

I ground my teeth together. And of course. He had been doing nothing except lounging around and playing computer games.

Are you and your dad at home right now?

Contrary to what you may have heard, David says.

My chest opened up and my breath loosened. It's something I'm capable of doing. Ignore the sudden, sharp twinge of sadness at the prospect of never meeting Dr.Jonson again and hurry up and go.

Please tell me I may visit, Jessica.

David: You feeling the horniness?

What? He mistook my inquiry regarding his father's whereabouts for an invitation to have sexual relations in the absence of the man of the home. Un-fucking-real. Was he trying to act like the split never happened? There was a rapid blinking of the three dots.

Yes, you are welcome to visit, David said.

As I pulled into David's driveway, my stomach began to churn and churn. I turned off the vehicle and stood there staring at the house's dark windows, gathering my courage to do what needed to be done.

Like before, I entered through the main entrance without knocking. It was all for nothing. If I were to shout, David, who was probably in the basement, wouldn't hear me. As I strode into the living room and turned left toward the basement entrance, the flip-flops smacked on the bottoms of my feet. While I was intent on achieving my objective, I didn't even notice the change until he said anything.

"Jessica?"

I mean, Jesus Christ. My throat closed up like the Sahara and my mind froze. I accidentally said, "He stated you weren't here."

The good doctor's visage twisted into an unnatural look. A mixture of remorse, bewilderment, and pain. Maybe even a touch of dread. I felt like trash and looked away from him to the pile of mail in his hands and the takeaway container on the kitchen counter. In the air, there was a subtle hint of garlic.

He straightened his spine and hunched his shoulders. "I've only recently returned home."

"Oh." I hardly raised my voice to a whisper. "Sorry."

He looked down at me with an inclined head. I said, "Why are you in here?" I had this idea that you and David.

"We did. All I want to do is have a conversation with him. Also, be sure he knows the relationship is finished.

Dr. Johnson wore jeans and a fitting t-shirt, and I tried very hard not to imagine what he looked like without his clothes. I took a few slow, deep breaths and looked up to meet his eyes.

Speaking softly, he replied, "You haven't informed him about what I did."

It was a mistake, so I quickly put it right by saying, "What we did," and adding, "and I'm not going to."

The question is, what caused his apparent distress. Why didn't he feel relieved? "Why?"

Since doing so would not alter the past events. To say nothing of the state of affairs between you and him, all this will do is do him harm. David's bond with his dad was tenuous, but I didn't feel the need to bring it up. I don't want to put what you have at risk.

Dr. Johnson slumped down, hands on hips, shoulders drooping. "That's really kind of you, but-"

My phone just started beeping because I got a message, so there was a quick end to our conversation. I took it out of my bag and examined the display.

I suppose my dad has arrived home, David. My attention was drawn to the sound of the garage door opening. Spectacularly effective timing, David. I hung up my phone and gave Dr.Jonson a serious look. No, I don't intend to harm him. "And you're going to tell him about it?" For some reason, I shook my head. If he dislikes me, that's OK. Not you, however.

I grabbed the doorknob and opened it before he could say anything. As I ran down the stairs, past the portraits of David and I that were hanging on the wall, the sounds of mock gunfire got louder and louder.

At the bottom of the stairs, I slid to a halt.