JENNIE

Was Lisa still on-call? She reacted quickly. Off the car went, disconnecting the Bluetooth, and she answered the phone directly.

"This is Dr. Manoban."

She didn't undo her seatbelt or get out of her seat as she listened. She barely moved at all, but the subtle way her posture stiffened told me everything I needed to know. We were heading back to the hospital, and I was going home.

The disappointment that ripped through me was fierce.

"Yeah," she said, glancing at her watch. "No, I'd like to. Thanks for the heads-up. Tell him I'm scrubbing in, but I'm on my way back. So, don't start without me, unless it can't wait." She hung up with a sigh and dropped her phone in her lap. "One of my patients is headed back to the OR."

"Oh."

She stared vacantly through the windshield into her garage. The long silence was unnerving.

"Don't we need to go?" I asked.

She turned in her seat to face me, and her expression was hard to read. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" I repeated. What kind of sense did that make?

"You could stay here. I don't think I'll be gone all night."

She looked tired, like it had been a never-ending day for her, but there was hope ringing her eyes. She wanted me to say yes to this.

If my only two options were going home or staying here to be with her later—well, my decision was easy.

I gulped down a breath. "Okay. What should I do while I wait?"

I expected her to give me a spiel about food in the fridge, or a "new classic" movie I needed to watch, but her gaze dropped down to the gear shift, and she seemed lost in thought. When his focus snapped back to mine, he didn't look tired anymore. She wasn't hopeful, or disappointed, or any of the emotions she'd had ten seconds ago.

Lisa's expression was the same one from the private hospital room. Commanding and powerful. My mouth went dry, probably because all the moisture in my body headed to the center of my legs.

"I want you to take off your clothes, get into my bed, and make yourself come."

I gasped, but she wasn't finished.

"You," she said, "playing with yourself in my bed? Fuck." She smoothed a hand down her leg, straightening the swell that threatened. "That's my fantasy. I want you rolling around in my sheets, making them smell like you. Make that whole room smell like sex by the time I get home."

My mouth hung open, and then I closed it with an audible snap. I wasn't sure what to say. My tongue was suddenly too big for my mouth. It wasn't initially one of my fantasies—not until she'd said it.

Now it was all I could think about.

Her voice was deep in her throat. "Will you do that for me?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Good." She was pleased with my immediate answer, and I was yanked into a hurried kiss. "I'll text you when I'm finished."

When she turned the car on, it spurred me into action. I opened my door and swung my legs out, climbing to my feet. My body was heavy and clumsy with lust, but I did my best to act natural. Still, I stood awkwardly in her garage as she pulled out, waved to me, and sped off. The garage door rumbled to life, jolting me out of my stupor.

I marched toward the door, climbed the step, and went inside.

In three years, it was the first time I'd been alone in the Manoban house. It was beyond strange and quiet as a museum, and since Felix hadn't been in the house for over a week, it barely looked like anyone lived here. Lisa was so neat. Or maybe she wasn't home enough to make much of a mess.

Electricity crackled through my bloodstream. Her request had charged everything with sex. Simply standing in the empty kitchen and gazing down the hallway toward her bedroom was a massive turn-on. The goal throbbed in my brain, and the same pulse was echoed between my legs.

There was an opened bottle of white wine in the fridge, and as I pulled a clean glass down from a cabinet, anticipation made my hand tremble. I poured myself a few swallows' worth, drew in a deep breath, and strolled toward the bedroom, ignoring Felix's graduation picture in the living room as I passed by.

I didn't turn on the bedroom light. I stood in the doorway, sipped the wine, and let my eyes adjust to the dark. Moonlight came through the windows, filtered by her wooden blinds, and cast strips of pale light over the bed. Her room was so nice. Masculine and sexy. I sauntered toward the nightstand, put the glass down with a quiet thud, and set about following her first request.

Take off your clothes.

Was she thinking about me during her drive back to the hospital? Was she imagining my hands dragging my shirt slowly up over my head, letting my hair fall down my back as I dropped the shirt to the floor? I undressed slowly, a striptease for myself, but hoped she was picturing it.

Get into my bed.

Once I was naked, I folded down the comforter to the foot of the mattress, then slipped under the top sheet. The fabric was rich and soft, and it was as if every nerve ending in my body was alive. The brush of the sheets against my sensitized skin and hardened nipples made my breath quicken. Why the hell was this so sexy? All I was doing was climbing into bed, but it felt completely different than any other time I'd ever done it. As I lay back into her pillow, her scent was everywhere, and my eyes slammed shut, fighting against the sudden wave of longing I had for her.

Make yourself come.

I bit down on my bottom lip and shifted under the sheet, smoothing my hands over my breasts and working my way down. It was sensual and amazing. My own touch felt foreign and exciting. I was wet, and as I rolled two fingertips over myself, I gasped at the pleasure.

It'd take me no time to complete this task. All I had to do was picture her in that white coat and fantasize what the doctor was going to do to me when she got home. I squirmed, writhing in the sheets as I rubbed my clit, faster with each stuttered breath I took.

Should I slow down? Maybe it'd be better if she caught me like this when she came home. She'd yank me out of her bed, bend me over her knee, and pretend to show me what a bad girl I had been. I'd squeeze fistfuls of her expensive slacks in my hands while she spanked my bottom bright red.

I jerked my hand away from myself, stopping only moments from going over the edge. That was close. She didn't expect to be at the hospital all night, but it'd be a while before she'd be back, and I wanted to draw this out. I was supposed to make the whole room smell like sex, after all.

Fantasy after fantasy played through my mind, each one dirtier and darker than the last, and as I closed in on my orgasm, I stilled my hand just in time, edging myself. My body was primed, buzzing and clamoring for release, but I continued to tease until sweat dampened the roots of my hair at my temples and my heart beat like a furious drum.

I slid one finger inside where I was hot and wet, and sighed at the sensation. Then, I went for two, and imagined they were her fingers fucking me. It felt good, but not enough to make me come, and prolonged the session.

I tried my best to make it last, but when I couldn't hold back any longer, I frantically rubbed myself until a moan tore from my lungs and I arched up off the bed. Heat washed through me, scorching and searing, and I shuddered as the pleasure came, wave after wave.

It passed slowly, and I collapsed back on the mattress, drained. I was satisfied, but not satiated. The feeling was temporary—my self-induced orgasm was a Band-Aid, not a real fix.

Only Dr. Manoban could make it better.

I finished the wine and checked my phone, and although I'd taken my time, she'd probably be another hour. Which meant if I wanted to spend any time with her, I'd likely miss my curfew.

Jennie: I'm crashing at Lilith's tonight. Okay?

Mom: That's fine. Thanks for letting me know.

Lying to my mom made me feel awful, but there wasn't an alternative. She was cool about a lot of things, but sleeping over at a guy's house wasn't one of them, and I couldn't imagine how she'd feel about me with Lisa. The only true adult who knew about us was Somi, and that had gone over like a lead balloon.

My mom had met Lisa a few times over the years. She was always friendly and polite, and had never said anything to me about it, but I had the strange feeling she didn't particularly like Lisa. I'd caught her giving Lisa side-eye more than once, and suspected she judged her for not being in Felix's life during the early years. She had baggage, and I got why she might have lumped her into the same category as my father.

I put the phone down on the nightstand and looked at the empty glass. The wine had been nice, and I could have another half glass before Lisa got home. But I wasn't about to walk around her house naked. Lord knew Somi had seen plenty of me already.

Her button-up shirts hung neatly in the walk-in closet off her bathroom, and I ran my hand along the sleeves absentmindedly. Would she mind if I wore one of them? She'd told me to take off my clothes, but she hadn't specifically told me to stay naked . . .

There was a simple white button-up shirt at the end that looked older and softer than the others. It probably wasn't in rotation anymore, and I took it off the hanger, slipping my arms into the sleeves. It was too big and yet just right. The shirttails ended at mid-thigh on me, and after I did up the bottom few buttons, I rolled the sleeves back onto my forearms.

Was it weird and narcissistic to think I looked good like this? I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My dark hair was tousled from my session in her bed, and my cheeks were stained pink from the wine and the intense heat simmering inside me. The shirt was thin, and if I stared hard enough, I could make out the faint dark circles of my nipples through the fabric. I oozed sex. It was fucking empowering.

I smiled to myself as I poured a new glass of wine and hoped I'd get a text from her soon. I went back to her bed, drank the wine, and scrolled through Instagram for a while.

It was either boredom or the environment, but I couldn't stay focused for long. The itch was back. The dark craving for Lisa grew enormous in a small amount of time, and my mind went back to the fantasies from earlier.

She'd told me to make the sheets smell like me, and there was no way I was going to fail her. I pressed the luxurious fabric between my legs and touched myself, stirring my fingertips over the sheet until it was damp with my arousal. In my mind, what I was doing was fucking filthy, and undeniably hot.

Like last time, the fantasies escalated. I imagined her fucking me in every position, talking dirty the whole time as her body pounded into me. She'd make me beg for my orgasm. She'd shove her dick in my mouth and order me to swallow as she came down my throat. And she'd take pictures of all of it.

"Proof," she'd say, "of what a bad little girl you are."

I twisted in her bed, rolling and bucking at my own touch, fueled by images in my mind that were so bad, I should have felt shame for thinking them. I imagined Felix walking in on us, seeing her dada's head buried in my pussy, teasing me with her skilled tongue. Felix would stand there, shock streaked over her face, unable to look away as she witnessed how much better her dada was at giving me what I needed.

I was supposed to feel shame, but I didn't. I couldn't. Nestled in Lisa's bed, I was impervious to guilt. I was safe here.

When the orgasm finally came, it wasn't as acute, but still strong. It flowed through my center and ebbed away, pleasure lingering for a long, suspended moment. I collapsed against the sheets, spent and struggling to catch my breath. Everything was warm and tingling in my body, and I relaxed, staring up through the darkness at the ceiling. I'd wanted to hold off until she was on her way home, but my dirty mind had been too powerful. Too needy.

I closed my eyes, resting for a moment. I'd need to. She'd be here soon, ready to turn my fantasies into reality.