A/N: This is what happens when I'm tipsy, horny, and the boyfriend is four states away from me. I know, I should be writing one of my other stories, but alas, when I sat down to write one night, this is what came out. I hope it tides you over until a new update to... whatever you happen to follow. As for me, I think I'm going to embrace my propensity for doctors.
Special thanks to Brian Regan for planting the idea in my head and Jen for being my sounding board.
A breath away, his eyes stared at mine. His spicy cologne mixed with the sweetness of his breath, hitting my nose with the dueling smells that, when combined, made up him.
The man of my dreams.
The man who haunted my dreams.
My reason for obsessing over my eyesight... because you're supposed to have an eye exam at least twice a year by a licensed optometrist.
My best friend, Alice, had thought I was insane for crushing on my optometrist of all people. That is until she made an appointment and saw for herself what I kept harping about – the perfect beauty, the mussed, sex hair, the lop-sided smile that rarely left his face when talking to you.
She claimed he only gave her the said smile when she told him she had found him through a referral from me, but I was still skeptical. Alice pulled crap like that all the time, trying to boost my confidence when it came to men. But I saw through her ploys.
If it was true, though... If he thought of me only a tenth of the time I dreamed of him... I would be content, happy. Hell, I'd be ecstatic.
He shifted slightly on his stool, his pants rustling with the movement. "Look up, now," he softly instructed. I complied, wishing I could keep him this close without needing the excuse of an eye exam.
"Now look at the dot over my left shoulder for me."
Anything for you, I silently sighed, wincing at the cheesiness of it all.
"Sorry, is that too bright?" Dr. Masen asked.
"What?" I queried, shifting my focus to his concerned eyes.
"The light. Is it too bright?" he repeated, and then added, "You winced."
"Oooh, right." I guess to an outsider that would have been the logical reason for my facial tick. "No, it wasn't too bright. Just reacting to a random thought I had," I tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to explain.
"What were you thinking about?" He sounded amused now.
"Nothing. It really was random." Just drop it. Please, drop it.
"Alright," he said slowly, searching my eyes as if he was trying to read my mind. God, if he only knew what went on in this lust haze-filled brain of mine. He'd probably run off screaming about the deranged woman in examination room two who needed sedatives because her hormones had driven her to seduce her optometrist. It would be a long sentence to scream, but I had complete faith that he could accomplish it.
He looked like he had a good set of lungs on him.
I snickered at the absolute randomness of that last thought and looked away.
"What now?" Was that a whiny undercurrent I heard in his voice?
"I swear, it's nothing," I assured him, shaking my head while trying to clear out the mental picture currently lodged in my head of him blowing out air until his lungs gave out and he needed to take a breath. The best part – his cheeks were all puffed out in this mental picture, making him look ridiculous, but somehow endearing.
More human and approachable than any other visual he had starred in.
Maybe that's why I said the next thing I did.
"You have gorgeous eyes," I blurted out.
A second passed as I replayed what I had just said. My face exploded in red, embarrassment screaming out to anyone who wanted to see, and my hand shot up to cover my mouth, which had dropped open in astonishment.
Shit, shit, shit, shit -
He interrupted my 'shit' chant with the most unlikely sentence to ever be uttered in all of space and time. "Dr. Cullen is a great optometrist."
Huh. Didn't see that one coming.
"I really think you should make your next appointment with him." The look of bafflement on my face turned to mortification because, obviously, I had crossed the line. That damn elusive patient-doctor line that taunted me every time I sat down in this unnaturally uncomfortable plastic chair. "Because I can't ask you what I want to ask you if you're my patient," he rushed to explain.
After another pause, confusion set in. "What do you want to ask me?"
"So many things, Bella," he muttered, his eyes drifting down to look at my lips. "So...many...things."
An array of emotions ran through me, each one lasting less than a second before the strongest one took over. The one I had suppressed until it had developed its own persona. I liked to call it 'Slam me up against a wall and fuck me until I scream', but I think most people just called it Lust.
"Ask me," I whispered.
His eyes flew up in surprise and met my level, dead serious gaze. "Do you promise to switch to Dr. Cullen for now on?"
He noticeably swallowed as his eyes closed for the briefest of seconds before he took a deep breath. "Bella... go out with me."
One corner of my mouth turned up in a small smirk. "Was that you asking?"
"Ask me again," I teased, acting so much more brazen than my norm that I scarcely recognized this new Bella. This confident Bella.
Was this the Bella that Alice had been trying to produce for the past couple of years?
Dr. Masen's pupils dilated and his usually light green eyes darkened, causing long dormant muscles above my thighs to clench in acknowledgement.
My God. Was this really happening?
"Go out with me," he rasped. The sound of plastic crinkling drew me to look down at the armrests to my left and right, which Dr. Masen clutched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. I was trapped, held in place by a man who seemed to be on the edge of losing control.
A thrill ran through me, followed quickly by a flush of heat that overheated my brain until all conscious thought evaded and all that was left in its place was one word, one thought. Edward.
I don't know who moved first, who broke that thinly held chord of restraint, but as if pulled together like magnets, we crashed into each other. Lips on lips. Hands on clothes, tearing, shoving aside, removing. A fury of motion without reason or forethought. Only instinct and a driven, undeniable need.
Finally, skin to skin, I felt him against every inch of me. His hard, angular body pressed my much softer one into his lab coat spread out on the floor, which we'd somehow ended up on. I couldn't remember how.
He lifted himself above me, resting his weight on his forearms on either side of my head. "Do you want this?" he asked. Somehow I knew he meant more than us having sex on the floor of a dimly lit examination room.
He spread my legs apart with his knees and I felt the tip of his cock brush against my lower lips. I softly moaned at the contact, my head screaming for more, so without deliberating any longer, I lifted my hips, wrapped my legs around his waist, and pushed him inside me.
Simultaneously we groaned as he deliciously filled me in one stroke.
Each knowing words would only ruin the moment, we just simply stared into each other's eyes and conveyed our feelings with the slow, luxuriously languid movement of skin sliding against skin. I tentatively reached up and ran my hand through his hair, reveling in the feel of it flowing through my fingers. Edward – he had ceased to be Dr. Masen the moment we touched – clasped my hand in his, lacing his fingers through mine, and brought it down to rest beside my head. He then mirrored that movement with my other hand so we were only touching at three points.
It was strangely intimate, yet restricting. But I wasn't complaining. He could have pulled out a rope and tried to hog tie me, and I wouldn't have said a word in protest.
Our pace picked up a half a beat faster.
"Edward," I sighed unconsciously.
With something close to a growl, he gritted his teeth and then began to slam into me. The pressure that had been slowly building in the pit of my stomach suddenly exploded from the unexpected show of power. My entire body tensed and I threw my head back, breaking eye contact, as I silently yelled my jubilation at the ceiling above.
After what seemed like days of intense pleasure that made me affectively immobile, I came back into my body, instantly turning into jelly. My muscles were going to be sore tomorrow, I knew.
Edward had not slowed down one bit during my orgasm and continued to drive into me like he was shipping off to war tomorrow and this would most likely be the last time we could be together.
I loved it.
I loved feeling wanted, needed. I loved being able to drive a man to this point of madness, where he was just a machine, no longer a thinking, considerate man. All he desired now was to take what he wanted. And what he wanted at that moment was me.
Again... I loved it.
I watched the veins in his neck become more pronounced until, after one, then two more strokes, he grunted and bucked, finding the release he had craved only a second before. His hands tightened around mine until the last thrust and then he released them.
In quiet contemplation, we stared at each other again. The need for words had not yet arrived.
He recovered first. "Bella," he whispered lovingly, leaning down to kiss me gently. We shared a smile, one of joy and disbelief.
His smile turned into a sly smirk. "Will you go out with me now?"
What else could I say?