Page 16 of Healing Her

“Limitations—argh! Why don’t youhearyourself? Why are you such a workaholic that getting back to work is more important than dramatically improving quality of life?” Jen tangled her hands into her hair and pulled, frustrated. “What is with your need to be right atanycost?”

“Why am Iwrong?” Ashley threw her hands into the air. “Why are you so intent on pushing radical surgeries before they’re needed? God, if you’re this much of a pain in my ass now, I definitely want you off my team before you can so much as critique the suture method I intend to use.”

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere, Doctor Proctor,” Jen scoffed. “You can’t make me.”

And then, just like the night in the surgical lounge, Jen’s declaration of defiance seemed to entirely change the energy in the supply room. Ashley’s eyes grew even darker and she strodeforward to back Jen up against the table with the stacks of surgical blankets. She stared down at Jen for a moment, face unreadable, before her mouth once again claimed Jen’s in a fiery, wet kiss.

Jen, still wound up from her morning dream and shower session, was immediately primed, her pussy going soft and warm as Ashley’s hands slid into her hair and gripped tight. She arched her hips forward, trying to press herself against Ashley’s thigh.

“No,” Ashley snarled into her mouth. “You have to wait.”

Jen hadn’t known that she could be so susceptible to a domineering presence. No one had ever been like this with her before. A thrill went through her at the idea of contradicting her usual egalitarian sexual nature and allowing herself to be directed. Ordered. Commanded.

Without a word, Ashley pulled back and turned Jen around to face the table, stretching Jen’s arms out over the blanket stack. She leaned forward, over Jen’s back, reaching with one hand to pin Jen’s wrists down. Her other hand moved Jen’s lab coat back and slid under the waistband of her skirt, then her panties. Jen gasped when long, cool fingers touched the hot, soft folds of her pussy, the unexpected temperature play nearly taking her legs out from beneath her. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shh.” Ashley’s fingers surrounded her clit, sliding up and down on either side. Jen squirmed and pressed her ass back against Ashley, biting her lip. Ashley pressed her fingers together and rubbed the root of Jen’s clit between them, a firm, deft massage that did nothing to quell the rising heat and everything to stoke the flames higher.

Pressed against the blankets, Jen’s nipples hardened. Pleasure rippled in the pit of her stomach, undulating waves all through her insides. She felt warm, liquid, boneless, melting with desire.

“I’m so mad, I’m going to make you come so fucking hard,” Ashley whispered, nipping briefly at the shell of Jen’s ear. “Do you want to?”

Jen had never wanted anything more. She nodded, her cheek rubbing against the plastic wrap over the blankets. “Yes,” she whispered.

“You want me to make you come?”

“Please,” Jen groaned, as Ashley’s fingers slipped through the wet heat.

One slight adjustment, and Ashley’s slender middle finger was pressed directly over Jen’s clit. “Come,” she said, and the rasped demand went straight to Jen’s core.

Everything she knew was focused on that working fingertip. Ashley’s hand on her wrist gripped more tightly, pressed her hands down more into the blanket stack. Behind her, Ashley was curved snugly over Jen, holding her completely still. Jen was utterly pinned down, a complete prisoner to her own lust and Ashley’s dominance.

Nothing had ever excited her so much in her entire sexual experience. She hadn’t known anythingcould.

Jen bit down on her lip to keep her moans and sighs firmly held back. Rhythmic waves of pleasure were overtaking her completely, making her legs shake the closer she inched to climax. Ashley’s fingers were the center of her entire world, rubbing, pressing, sliding, hot, wet, unrelenting?—

Jen pressed her face down into the blankets as the most earthshaking orgasm of her life ripped through her, pulling a long and filthy groan out of her. “Good girl,” Ashley was crooning into her ear, her hand still working between Jen’s thighs, but more slowly, carefully as Jen began to come down. Gently, her hand eventually stilled, simply cupping Jen’s pussy as the last tumultuous aftershocks sent little shudders through her body. “Good girl,” she repeated,” and Jen all but melted.

They stood, still joined together, still bent over the table, for a moment longer. Then the noise outside the supply room door began to intrude, the sounds of people bustling around and talking, discussing the day’s surgical rota. Ashley’s hand pulled slowly out of Jen’s panties and she released her wrists.

Jen turned around as the cardio surgeon backed off, standing up straight on still-weak legs as she rubbed her wrists, which clearly showed some red handprints. She was absolutely going to have to wait until they subsided before she went to see Maria.

Ashley’s face was unreadable again as she observed Jen. “I have to make rounds,” she said, a bit flatly, as if she hadn’t just wrenched a powerful orgasm out of Jen. “Will you be all right?”

“Yes,” Jen replied slowly, confusion over what had just happened beginning to set in. Whatwasit between them? Arguing one minute, complete polar opposites, then… this. This thing that had come out of nowhere and was, alarmingly, escalating at a record-breaking pace.

She had questions, but before she could ask even one, Ashley had opened the supply room door and vanished into the corridor. Presumably she would be heading to the nearest bathroom to wash her hands and put herself back together.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea for her to get the hell out of Dodge as well, before anyone came in and caught her in a room that was filled with the scents of good sex. She had enough questions; she didn’t need anyone else to come in with any of their own.

12

Ashley had specifically chosen her Santa Monica apartment for its breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean, something she hadn’t grown up with in Cleveland, Ohio. But as she stood, fully dressed for work, by the floor-to-ceiling expanse of windows in her living room, eyes fixed on the horizon, she didn’t see so much as a seagull flapping by.

All she saw was Jen Colton, bent over a table and a stack of surgical blankets, biting her lip and rolling one blue eye to look at Ashley through a cloud of her silver curls.

Ashley was holding a hot, fresh cup of coffee she’d just made. But she didn’t feel the warmth seeping into her hands, nor the smooth ceramic surface under her fingers.

The soft, slippery heat of Jen Colton’s clit had been on her fingertips for three days now.

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