BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part Four Page 6

  I wasn’t sure if it was from how much I loved him, or if it was just because he was that damned good in person—but it was incredible. Even more so than it always was with him.

  I gasped and moaned over and over, as his hands roamed my body and kneaded my breasts.

  “Give me what I want!” I screamed out again, as he continued to pump in and out of me with vigorous strength and determination.

  My head and back slammed against the wall, as he continued plowing into me atop the desk’s surface. Every thrust knocked more and more of my breath out of me; I felt that my lungs had somehow deteriorated into nothing, but I didn’t care. I was fine being breathless if it meant the rest of me felt so damned good.

  I almost screamed, but before I could, he pulled me back towards him, away from the wall. He pulled my lips to his, capturing my mouth and tongue before I could give us away to the rest of the office, or anyone trying to listen in.

  I loved it; and I loved him.

  It was far from romantic, though, despite the love both of us so clearly felt; and it was really far from tender, but, my God, it was sensational.

  He explored me, and I him. It was as if two animals were preying on one another; neither of us necessarily the prey, both of us definitely predators, ready to consume one another completely.

  Our mouths continued to devour the other. And each and every time he offered his tongue to me, I accepted it, sucking hard, feeding off the power and intensity of the moment. I let it fuel me; I let it move me almost completely.

  My hands moved frantically over his soft, smooth flesh, and I relished in every inch. Touching him caused my entire body to tingle in pleasant little shocks. I hurriedly ran my hand over his shoulders and down the groove of his back, mentally noting every muscle, every ripple of strength that he displayed as I did.

  We writhed. We moaned. We groaned together, neither really satisfied, and both completely unable to get enough of the other.

  Suddenly, I felt all air leave me and my head go light. I had no idea what the sensation was that was rushing over me. I groaned audibly, the vibrations from it likely tickling his tongue just as they had mine.

  He moaned into me in reciprocating fervor, and I felt a crazy electricity build and shoot throughout my mouth and body until a tingling sensation in my ear caused me to shudder and absolutely all breath leave me.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  At all.

  I interlaced my fingers in his thick hair, just before gripping it and jerking his head back violently so that our mouths separated.

  I gasped for air, and I looked at him. He was worried, his expression puzzled with concern. “Jesus, what the fuck, Zoe?” he panted. “What was that for?”

  He held his lips, clearly hurt. I watched a small droplet of blood ooze out of the bottom corner of his mouth.

  “Ugh. I’m sorry.” My chest was heaving. “Couldn't breathe.”

  “Are you fine now?” he fussed, clearly frustrated.

  I smirked and nodded. “You big baby.”

  I grabbed his face with both hands, and the mauling continued. Our tongues wrestled and our hands searched desperately as we tore at each other’s skin and clothes, not caring which we ripped at. He continued to thrust in and out of me with power and enthusiasm, as our bodies rocked atop the office desk.

  “Mmm, oh yeah!” I screamed. “You make me so happy. Fuck me! God, Derek, fuck me!”

  I was being so crass as I lay beneath him, my legs spread wide open, pulling him in and out of myself. I couldn’t believe it.

  “I would rather make love,” he interrupted with a passionate and gasping sigh. It was probably the most vulnerable thing I had ever heard in my life. And I was fine with that.

  More than fine with it. My heart melted, actually.

  It melted so fully, so completely, that I was sure that I wanted no one else for the remainder of my days. Only him. He was all I ever wanted; all that I ever needed.

  We must have changed positions a million times atop his gorgeous wooden desk. I was on top, and then underneath, and then bent over the top, and then on top all over again. The reality was so much more satisfying than any dream that I could have imagined.

  I ground my mound against his pubic bone wildly, as I continued to ride his glory.

  I lowered myself down on him…then back up…only to slam myself back down again.

  It seemed that everything surrounding us went into a sort of oblivion. There was nothing else but he and I. Everything else was out of focus. It was like looking at a photo and looking to where the camera lens focused. We were the focus. Everything else was background noise; blurry images captured for a solid moment.

  There was no work. There certainly was no office, or people just outside the door.

  There was no sickness.

  There was nothing but us, as we continued to whirl, tangled up in one another in a fit of love and sex—vulnerable love-making, open love-making, and above all…love-love-making.

  Or perhaps; just love in general.

  “I love you,” I said with a gasp.

  “I love you, Zoe,” he said. “So very much. You mean everything to me,” he whispered into my ear, the heat from his breath searing into my skin. His thrusts slowed, but they also became more intense. It was almost a perfect representation on the moment at hand, too.

  “I know,” I purred, my hands gripping his hips, pulling him down onto me, as I tried to speed him up. “I love you, too—so, so much.”

  And with that we both came, together, in complete unison.

  We both sighed, content with the moment as we untangled ourselves from one another—and then, in perfect mood-killing fashion, my phone began to ring.

  And it was my mother.

  “Hello?” I gasped, out of breath, hoping to keep my composure.

  I didn’t want to answer; and I thought about not answering.

  I thought about screening it.

  But I knew better.

  I knew that she knew I was allowed to answer personal calls at work. And she wasn’t one to be okay with anyone screening her calls, especially me.

  “We’re going to lunch,” she replied in a hurried and direct voice.

  “Mama, I need to work through lunch.”

  “Your boyfriend ain’t letting you go to lunch with your mama?” She spoke so loud that I knew he had to hear her, especially because he leaned back on the desk, his bare body shining out to me. I didn’t dare look down though. I knew it was there, and I knew that it probably—although spent—looked marvelous. But I couldn’t look at it. I couldn’t.

  Not while my mom was on the phone.

  So my eyes remained on his chest, his beautiful, beautiful chest.

  “Go to lunch with her,” he chuckled, noticing that I was looking at him.

  “Meet me outside my office building and we’ll go somewhere.” I was quick to hang up because if I knew anything, I knew she was already downstairs waiting on me. And I knew that if I didn’t hurry off the phone, I’d be standing in Derek’s office naked until she came looking for me.

  And I was not about to explain that to anyone, especially her.

  Chapter 10

  I sat across the table from Mama and Laura and hoped that I didn’t smell like sex. We were in a diner, just down the street from my office; and I was glad that I had actually agreed to it. I was starving after the sex session I had just had.

  “How is Derek?” Laura smirked and immediately a red flush rose to my cheeks. I wondered if she knew.

  “He’s at work still, taking care of things,” I said, nonchalantly, and immediately Mama and Laura looked at one another.

  “Is that a good idea?” Laura piped up, worriedly.

  My brows contorted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “He’s sick, and he needs to be resting, not working?” She said it as if it was the most logical statement in the world and then turned it into a question. And she was right, but there was no telling Derek that. An
d not only that, but I had just had sex with him all over his office. I had no right to tell him to rest at all.

  “He will never listen to that.” I laughed, taking a sip of my water.

  “Just like your father.” Mama smiled.

  I cringed. I didn’t want Derek to be compared to my father. Ever. Especially considering the situation.

  Comparing Derek’s illness and willingness to survive to my father’s…. almost took away any hope that I had left for Derek making it.

  Daddy died.

  I didn’t want the same fate for Derek—and a part of me held faith that it wouldn’t be.

  But yet, she compared them, and in all fairness, she wasn’t wrong. For all intents and purposes, she was right. They were very comparable in that light.

  I sighed and looked down at the table’s surface and immediately Mama sensed that what she had said was probably the wrong thing.

  “I didn’t mean it like that, Zoe!” she shouted in a whisper. I nodded in response. Logically, I knew that, but it didn’t make me think any differently.

  “There is something I wanted to talk to you guys about,” I said, changing the subject. “When we were at the hospital, I heard the attending emergency room doctor say that there were inconsistencies in Derek’s charts, and when he asked to do more tests, Dr. Freeman wouldn’t let him.”

  “That man’s a snake!” Mama said loudly just before stirring her coffee.

  “Anyways, psycho!” Laura snapped at Mama. “It has nothing to do with Dr. Freeman. If there are any inconsistencies, take him to get a second opinion. That’s what I would do.”

  Mama glared at Laura. “Excuse you? Did you just call me a psycho?”

  Laura giggled, shortly followed by Mama. I loved them; the tone could be serious, but yet, they still found a reason to smile—and by result, make me smile. I loved how playful they always were without being completely inappropriate. And I loved that Derek had told me to go to lunch with them. I was glad that I got to do it.

  Talking to them gave me insight on what to do about the Dr. Freeman situation. Something about him already didn’t feel right, but knowing that there were inconsistencies with Derek’s health scared me.

  It made me question his competency.

  It made me wonder if he wasn’t only a narcissistic asshole, but if he was an imbecilic one, as well.

  I wished, though, that my sister and mama were around to help me convince Derek because as soon as I walked back into his office and spoke, I could tell that it was going to be a hard sell.

  “I’ve been thinking…,” I trailed, walking around his desk so that I could wrap my arms around him from behind his spot in the chair. I smiled, as my head rested on his shoulder, and I looked at the desk on which we had just had fiery hot sex. “And I think you should get a second opinion.”

  I knew it wasn’t the best way to bring it up, or even any sort of way to bring it up at all, but it was all that I had. I pressed my breasts against his back a little more, hoping that the cushion of my bosom might somehow cushion the blow of me thinking his doctor was an idiot.

  “Second opinion on what?” he giggled. “Are we about to role-play?”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course he was thinking about sex.

  “No!” I shot, leaning back off of him just before I swatted him in the back of the head.

  He tensed. “Well, what were you talking about?!” he snapped, swiveling his chair around to look at me. He reached around me and grabbed my ass, just before pulling me to him.

  He looked up at me, his brows questioning, and I could tell that I had to voice my concern.

  “I overheard the doctors talking in the hospital, and Dr. Lawrence said there were some inconsistencies in your file that he wanted to retest.” I was direct and concise, hoping that I didn’t make him mad.

  He scrunched his face in confusion. “Did he say that to Doc?” he asked.

  I nodded almost immediately.

  “Well then he probably re-ran tests, then.”

  He smiled up at me, bearing a re-assuring smile, but I wasn’t convinced.

  “He seemed angry that Dr. Lawrence would question him.” I defended my stance. “I think you need a second opinion.”

  “But I don’t need another doctor,” he replied sweetly, leaning his head back.

  “I didn’t say you did.”

  “That is what you’re saying though.”

  “Well, fine, if that’s how you want to hear it, then yes, yes, you do need a new doctor.” I corrected. I wasn’t going to let him live it down; not after everything that I heard in the hospital.

  “Doc has been my doctor for a while now.”

  “I don’t care. You always get a second opinion!” And I truly believed that; it didn’t matter that I had some sort of unknown vendetta against his doctor.

  The guy was creepy though; I didn’t care if he had somehow, miraculously turned his life around ever since he was a psychotic young child; he was still creepy. I thought so before I even knew the truth.

  But that was why I told him to get the second opinion.

  His creepiness certainly didn’t help matters. In fact, I would say that it made me want him to get a second opinion even more, but even if I didn’t feel weary of him, I still should have suggested a second opinion ages ago.

  I couldn’t believe I hadn’t already.

  “If Doc finds out, he’ll go apeshit with anger,” he groaned. “He’ll think I don’t trust his opinion.”

  “I don’t care.” I didn’t.

  “Why would I need another doctor?” He was confused, rightfully so, but I saw something in this guy that I didn’t like. Part of me wondered if he was a good doctor at all, and if his abilities were clouded by the fact that he was his brother.

  “Everyone gets a second opinion, Derek.”

  “I’m sick, Zoe. It doesn’t matter if you want it to be true or not.”

  “That’s not what this is Derek.” I felt tears well up as I leaned into him for support. “I’ve accepted that horrible fact….” His hands moved away from the underside of my bum and ran up to the small of my back. He was holding me. I looked down at him once again. “I really just want to make sure that you have the best treatment you can.”

  He sighed deeply, clearly torn. But then he nodded.

  “I’ll get the second opinion.”

  Chapter 11

  The room was cold, just like the mood, and I could tell that Derek didn’t want to be there anymore than I did. We had already been to the hospital earlier in the day because the doctor had ordered tests to be ran on Derek before actually seeing him.

  It made sense. He had to see what he was giving a second opinion on; and it only made sense to go to the hospital first.

  But now that we were there, we were both tired and just ready to go home. And I was sure if I was as tired as I was, Derek was even more so.

  The room was white and bleak, with only one painting with literally just a singular red brush stroke on the canvas hung on the wall. I shivered, not wondering if it was because the place was creepy, or if it was just that damned cold in there.

  We had come to find that Dr. Lawrence had a family practice of his own, and because he was the doctor that found an issue with Derek’s file in the first place, we decided to go there to see just what the “inconsistency” he saw was.

  Derek, of course, didn’t want to see a doctor at all, let alone another one. So when the man came in, Derek visibly tensed.

  He was a kind-looking man, but I still couldn’t pin down an age bracket to stuff him in. He had white hair but a young and quite attractive face. He was an oddity; that much was for certain, but as soon as he entered the room, the cold bleakness of the room disappeared…at least for a moment.

  I wasn’t sure if it was because the man, himself, was warming and comforting, or if it was just the fact that it made me feel better that Derek was seeing someone other than Dr. Freeman for a change.

  I felt sort of bad though bec
ause as Derek and Dr. Lawrence spoke, I could tell, without a shadow of a doubt that part of Derek was scared that “Joey” would find out about him seeing another doctor. I understood how it might come across as a betrayal, or make him think he didn’t trust his opinion.

  But damn, I didn’t trust anything the asshole said, let alone his opinion on Derek’s fatal disease.

  Not in the slightest, actually.

  Cancer was something big; Derek should have gotten a second opinion regardless of his personal affiliation with his doctor. And not only that, but he should have gotten a second opinion because of his personal affiliation with him.

  He knew Dr. Freeman even before he was a doctor, back when he was torturing poor, defenseless animals in true serial killer fashion.

  Was that someone adequate enough to really be a doctor? Even so, why would you want them to be your doctor, knowing what you knew?

  Derek was far more loyal than I was. If Laura had tortured animals and became a doctor, there was no way in blue hell that I would have gone to her.

  Even if she was capable, she still would have been nuts.

  “Usually, I like to have a patient’s charts sent over by the primary physician,” the man with conflicting age said to Derek in a low and calming voice, pulling me from my thoughts. It surprised me that such an easy sounding voice could have actually brought me back to reality, but it had.

  It brought me back to the real reason we were even there.

  “But considering you’ve technically seen me before, I have your charts.”

  Derek sighed a sigh of relief.

  “So you don’t want me sharing my input with Dr. Freeman?” he asked.

  “Depends on what it is.” Derek sighed. “If you have the same opinion, then there’s no need.”

  “Well, I can tell you that we don’t.” The man spoke definitely, firmly even.

  “Is it a different kind of cancer?” I asked, butting in. “Or is it something else entirely?”

  The doctor scoffed a little and rubbed his chin, as if he was in deep thought on how to answer the question. “I’m baffled,” he said, and that was all that Derek heard. He tossed his hands in the air and looked at me with a cocky I-told-you-so type attitude.