39. Chapter 39
Chapter 39
Caroline
T he surgical faculty offices are on the tenth floor in a separate building from the main hospital. I had a general idea of where to go since Cassidy and I brought Parker some of our mom’s oatmeal raisin cookies last Christmas while Claire ran around the ER with Morgan.
For a second, I was worried that I would run into my brother. But fortunately, the only people I pass on my way are physicians who don’t give me a second look, so I guess I really do look the part.
I find Weston’s office at the end of the long hallway. From the window above his door, it looks like his light is on, but I can’t tell if he’s in there or not so I decide to send him a text. It’s almost eleven in the morning, so it’s possible that he had a light load and is done for the day—or at least that’s what I find myself hoping for.
Are you in your office?
Almost instantly, a reply comes through.
Which office? The one where I bent you over my desk and fucked you?
Or the boring one?
A thrill runs through me as I think back to that night. It was a few days after Halloween, and I was hanging out at his house after my clerkship prep class. Weston had to do a few administrative things once Carter went down for bed, so I decided to mess with him by putting on one of his button-downs and walking into his office. It ended in the very best way possible—with multiple orgasms.
The other one :(
He must not be that busy because he quickly responds.
Yes.
My heart starts to pound a little faster at the idea of surprising him here. We haven’t spoken all morning so he has no idea that I’m at the hospital, let alone right outside his office door.
I hold my phone screen up to my face, checking my appearance in the camera. I might not have any makeup on besides mascara, but I took the time to blow my hair out this morning, and it still looks flawless.
I curl my hand around the metal doorknob, gently twisting it to make sure it’s unlocked before I crack it open.
Here goes nothing.
My eyes immediately land on Weston sitting behind his dark wood desk, looking like a Ken doll with his perfectly pressed white coat and navy scrubs underneath. His dirty-blond hair is brushed back in a way that makes me want to run my fingers through it, and I almost tell him that . . . until I realize the way he’s looking at me feels off.
He’s leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. If I didn’t know him better, I’d assume that he’s angry. But that can’t be right—he was just joking about hooking up with me.
I shift on my feet as he drags his gaze up and down my body.
“Ms. Winters,”he states, his tone so cold that it sends a shiver down my spine. “Please come in and close the door. Are you here for your interview?”
My mouth feels like the Sahara desert as I try to get a word out. “Wh . . . what?”
“Please come inside and close the door,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes on me with a predatory hunger I’ve never seen before. “And hand me your phone. I don’t want any distractions.”
I nearly trip over myself as I push open the door to his office.
My hands feel clammy on the metal handle as it clicks closed, and I hear my breaths start to come faster as I turn toward him, taking several steps across the room to hand him my phone.
“Just relax, darling.” A deep southern voice comments from my left. “This is all very informal.”
I jerk my head to the side, noticing the man seated across from Weston’s desk.
His forest-green eyes meet mine with a warm, knowing look, and I feel my jaw drop because he’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life.His skin is glowing, but his complexion is perfect like he’s never been in the sun a day in his life, and his chocolate brown hair is tousled on top and swept to the side, styled in a way that looks like he belongs on a Hollywood red carpet instead of a hospital.
Weston snaps his fingers, redirecting my attention.
“You’re interested in helping with my surgical clinic, are you not?” he asks coolly. “I’m not sure how you could forget after the numerous emails you sent me, begging for a chance to work together.”
I try not to flinch as Weston studies me.
“Uh—” I blink, wracking my brain to figure out what the hell he’s talking about.
We’ve literally never had this conversation before, and as far as I know, there isn’t even a surgical clinic at this hospital.
“Starstruck.” The man beside me chuckles warmly. “Happens all the time to my students.”
Weston purses his lips like he’s displeased. “Or maybe she’s just wasting my time. Please leave, Ms. Winters.”
Instinctively, I want to argue, to defend myself—though I don’t even know what I’m defending myself against. But before I can open my mouth, the man seems to take my side.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he drawls, his tone smooth and velvety. “Let’s not be so hasty now, Dr. Southerland.”
He glances at me with an almost too-perfect smile before turning back to Weston. “I think this young lady could have a ton of potential .”
Weston’s lips thin, like he’s thinking it over. “She’s going to have to prove it.”
“I’m sure she can show us exactly what she’s good for. Can’t you, darling?” The man gestures to the black leather chair beside him, his large hand waving me forward.
I swallow hard, uneasiness crawling up my spine as I fumble to remove his backpack on my shoulder and place it on the floor next to my feet. I lower myself into the chair, my eyes flicking to Weston.
His face softens for a beat, almost like a break in his character to reassure me that everything is okay.
I give him a small nod, and almost instantly, his expression hardens again, sharp as glass.
Whatever this is, it’s a game.
“Ms. Winters,” he says, jerking his chin toward the man beside me. “This is Dr. Worth Daley.”
I frown because the name sounds familiar, but I can’t figure out where I know it from.
“Um, nice to meet you, Dr. Daley,” I reply, turning toward him with a hesitant smile. “How do you know We . . . uh . . . Dr. Southerland?”
His lips twitch with amusement, but he lets my slip slide without comment. “A mutual friend introduced us. He’s been helping me with some research of my own, actually. And since I was in town for a conference, I thought I’d stop by to thank him.”
I can’t tell if he’s serious or not, but I decide to play along.
“That was nice of you . . . so, are you a surgeon as well?”
“Plastics.” He laughs and shifts in his seat so that he can better face me. “I prefer to make things beautiful, not tear them apart like our ex-trauma God over here.”
He winks at Weston before smirking at me. “Well, at least not when it comes to my professional interests, that is.”
I suck in a quick breath because the first thing that comes to mind is sexual.
“So your research was . . . personal, then?”
Alarm bells start sounding in my head as soon as I get the words out because I realize that’s where I know his name from—he’s the guy who made the kink quiz.
My cheeks heat because that means this man knows far too much about me. He knows that I like pain. That I enjoy being tied up. Choked. That I’m interested in role play . . .
Oh my god.
Role play.
That’s what this is.
“I think we’ve heard enough about Dr. Daley’s interests,” Weston interrupts, shooting his friend a glare. “The purpose of this interview is to understand how badly Ms. Winters wants to work with me. And right now I’m not convinced of anything other than the fact that she is nice to look at.”
Holy fuck.
A pulse of arousal shoots through me, and I have to cross my legs to attempt to focus.
Okay. Okay. I can do this.
“Well, perhaps you should ask me some questions then, Dr. Southerland. Or if you can’t think of anything, I’d be happy to let Dr. Daley interview me on his own. It sounds like he has some very interesting research that I’d love to be a part of.”
My gaze stays locked on Weston, but I can hear Worth sputter beside me like he’s holding back his laughter.
“That won’t be necessary,” Weston grits, his hazel eyes flaring with jealousy. “Dr. Daley was just leaving.”
“Hey, now,” Worth argues. “I’d like to stay and hear what the young lady has to say. She seems like she could potentially be an asset to us both.”
He shoots a wink at me that makes my core pull tight.
Weston’s jaw ticks with jealousy. “No, thank you. I’m afraid that this interview needs to be a little more in-depth than I originally intended.”
He abruptly stands from his desk, crossing the room to open his office door. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Worth chuckles and gives me a warm smile on his way out. “Maybe next time, darling.”
The door slams behind me, stirring the tense air between us. I keep my attention locked on the empty desk in front of me, waiting for Weston to say something. To break his character.
But he doesn’t.
I hear the lock click into place, and his footsteps pad behind me, muffled against the carpeted floors of his office. It almost sounds like he’s pacing, but then he stops somewhere out of my field of vision.
My pulse starts to pound harder, liquid heat burning through my veins as the seconds pass.
After what feels like forever, Weston’s fingers finally graze my shoulder, pulling my hair to one side of my neck.
His lips ghost my ear, his hot breath making the ache between my legs grow stronger. “Ms. Winters. Are you ready for your interview to begin?”
I swallow and fight the urge to squirm. “I am.”
“I already know you’re intelligent, driven, and that you have the smartest mouth I’ve ever encountered,” he muses as his hands trail down my shoulders. “But I want to make sure that you’re able to handle the more . . . physical aspects of this job.”
His hands dip to my waistband, undoing the drawstring of my scrubs.“Take off your clothes. Bra and panties stay on for me. I want you sitting just like this when I turn around.”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, pretending like I’m not sure of his request. “Is that really necessary, Dr. Southerland?”
“That’s up to you,” Weston murmurs seductively as his fingers slide beneath my pants and press on my clit.
He pulls away a second later, leaving me needy and aching for his touch.
“You have one minute, Ms. Winters,” he warns as he grabs the backpack from beside me and whisks it away.
I fly to my feet, unable to think about anything other than getting more of what he just gave me. I kick off my tennis shoes, drop my scrub pants to the floor, and shrug out of my top, flinging it to the side like I’m not going to have to wear it out of here.
Weston keeps his back to me, flipping through pages of some book that’s on the credenza behind me as I return to my original position, my chest heaving with anticipation.
I look around the room, trying to focus on something other than the thrum of desire flowing through my body.
The wall behind his desk is lined with wooden bookshelves full of medical textbooks and various accolades. For someone who doesn’t make it a point to talk about his professional accomplishments, he seems to have a lot of them. His diplomas and certificate from residency are hung above his computer on the adjacent wall, along with several photos of his son.
“Very good,” Weston comments, his biting cologne wafting into my nose as he leans forward.
He turns my palms so that they’re facing up and resting on the arms of the chair. “Stay like this.”
I don’t know why this simple change of position feels more vulnerable, but I let out a soft whimper of anticipation.
“No, no,” he coos, nipping at my neck. “If we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to stay silent.”
I sigh as he flicks his tongue against my skin, soothing the sting he just caused.
“That doesn’t sound like much of an interview,” I tease.
“You know what? Now that I think about it,” he drawls, sliding his hands back up my arms to rest on my shoulders. “This will go better if we keep that mouth occupied.”
He pulls back, whistling to himself to mask the sound of whatever he’s messing around with behind me.
Out of nowhere, something slaps against my wrist, making me jerk in surprise. I glance down to try to understand what just happened, but all I see is a bright red mark just below my fist.
“Open,” Weston corrects, still out of my field of vision.
“Sorry,” I grit, not even realizing that I closed my palms.
“You’ll be sorry if I have to correct your position again, Ms. Winters. I’m a patient man, but I expect you to listen when I ask you to do something. Do you understand me?”
Fuck.
Why is this so hot?
There isn’t even anything sexual happening at the moment, but this version of him is making me more worked up than usual.
When we had a chance to go through our quizzes together, we briefly talked about role play and what that might look like. But I never imagined it would happen at the hospital where anyone could hear us—I figured it would be at his house, or something. This just makes it so much more . . . intense.
“I understand,” I whisper.
“Good.” Weston moves behind me, his tone still clinical and icy. “Now I’m going to put something in your mouth. I want you to wrap your lips around it and suck. It should keep you quiet for the rest of our interview. But if it isn’t enough, I’m going to have to make some . . . adjustments.”
I’m not sure what kind of adjustments he’s talking about, but they also sound hot—everything sounds hot when it comes to him.
I part my lips as something black and bulbous is placed in front of me. It’s similar in size to a ball gag but it doesn’t pull as tight when Weston fastens straps behind my head. There’s a huge leather panel that covers the bottom of my face from my chin to above my upper lip, but I can still breathe through my nose. And if I really wanted to, I could part my lips more to get a breath through my mouth because the gag doesn’t hold me open the way the other one did.
Weston circles me slowly, coming to a stop in front of me. He’s removed his white coat, and I can see the outline of his hard cock directly in front of my line of sight.
He reaches down to grip my chin, tilting it to meet his gaze.
“You can shake your head if you need to take a minute,” he reminds me, pulling us out of the scene for a beat. “Show me.”
His hazel eyes are warm, despite his serious expression, and I twist from side to side, holding his gaze as I wonder how long he’s been planning this.
There’s no way he keeps a gag in his office for the hell of it, but maybe he brought it today knowing that I’d end up here? Or it could have been in the backpack that Morgan had me deliver since I didn’t even think about opening it. But that would mean that several of our friends were in on this . . .
Weston pulls me out of my head, stroking my chin with his thumb. “Very good, Ms. Winters.”
He drops to his knees in front of me, and I feel my chest begin to rise and fall faster as his fingers slowly drag up the outside of my bare legs. His hands wrap around my hips, tugging me toward the edge of the leather chair so that I’m nearly falling off, my thighs straddling his body.
The movement makes something bounce against my chest that I didn’t notice before. I glance down, sure that I’m imagining things because it looks like a blood pressure bulb is attached to the gag he put in my mouth.
But before I can get a better look at it, Weston’s touch trails higher. He slides my underwear aside and presses his fingers against my clit.
I nearly fly out of my seat because the pressure teases me with the promise of more.
Weston reaches into his pocket to pull out a small ruler, snapping it against my wrist again. “Still,” he growls.
I whimper as he drags his fingers through my sex.
“As I said, there are physical requirements for this job,” Weston drawls, pushing one finger inside of me before removing it and resting it against my ass. “I’m going to have to use all of your assets regularly, so I need to make sure they’re in good working condition. You don’t mind if I test them, do you?”
He knows that I can’t respond, so I give him an affirmative nod.
He smirks as he dips his finger into my tight hole, watching for my reaction.
I can’t control the moan that comes out of my mouth because I forgot how much I like it when he does that. The sensation invigorates a part of my body that I’ve never dared to explore on my own, and I want more—especially as his thumb begins to lazily stroke my clit.
“Oh, Ms. Winters,” Weston tuts, his gaze flicking to mine admonishingly. “I suspected that we might have to do a better job silencing that mouth of yours.”
He reaches for the bulb between my breasts, squeezing it twice.
My eyes fly open because each pump expands the ball in my mouth, forcing my lips to open wider.
Weston’s lips quirk into a knowing grin. “How’s that?”
I know he’s talking about the gag, not the way his pace has quickened on my clit. But when I try to answer, I can’t because my tongue is now wedged between the silicone ball and has nowhere to go.
My eyes narrow, and I grunt out of my nose, letting him know what I think of this particular toy.
“Sounds like you love it.” His face gleams with mischief as he returns the bulb to my chest. “We might have to try this one after hours. I think it’s going to become a new favorite of mine.”
Weston abruptly stops rubbing me, pulling his finger free from my ass at the same time.
I arch my hips, mourning the loss of contact because I was already getting close to the edge.
He reaches into his pocket again, but this time he purposely conceals whatever he removed from my field of vision.
I flinch as something cold and clinical slides into my pussy, pushing against my inner walls. Whatever it is doesn’t stay there for long because all he does is twist it several times before holding the tip against my other hole.
“Now, Ms. Winters. This might feel a little tight. You just try to be a good girl and take it for me, okay?”
I try to moan around the gag, but it sounds like a jumbled mess as Weston’s palm spreads out over my low belly. His thumb begins to gently massage my clit, and I can’t help but clamp my thighs closed around him because I feel like I’m going to detonate.
He chuckles as the metal device resting at my ass slowly presses forward, opening me up.
“It’s perfectly normal to feel like you have to come from having your tight little hole stretched,” he explains, pausing when the tip is barely inside me. “In fact, I encourage it. That’s how I’ll know everything’s in working order, after all.”
My heart feels like it’s going to stop beating as he pushes the tip deeper, giving me time to acclimate to the way my body is stretching around the device.
“That’s it,” he coos, his eyes darkening with hunger as he watches me take whatever it is. “You should see how you’re opening up for me. How your pussy is soaking this special little plug, helping you take it deep into your virgin ass.”
I suck in a breath through my nose, feeling like I can’t take anymore when the plug pushes its way into me on its own, almost like my body sucked it up after a certain point.
My core instantly tenses, like the movement pulled some invisible trigger of pleasure within me right as Weston presses down on my low abdomen, his thumb still working my clit.
I fly over the edge of my orgasm, my inner walls clenching around the metal plug in my ass. Suddenly I’m incredibly grateful for the gag because I wouldn’t have been able to hold back the pleasure-filled scream that just came from deep in my chest.
My body pulses in ecstasy as Weston continues to rub me through it, murmuring praise and admiration.
Once I come down from my high, he pats my leg and steps back, looking down at me with a mixture of pride and amusement.
I focus on his erection and straighten in the chair, unable to help myself from reaching out to touch it—I want to make him feel just as good as he just made me feel.
Weston lets out a low laugh as my palm cups his length. “You’re showing quite the initiative, Ms. Winters. I like that.”
His fingers trail down my outstretched arm. “You want this cock, don’t you?”
I nod several times as I squeeze him, rubbing my thumb over his tip as I feel him grow even harder beneath my touch.My eyes meet his, trying to let him know that I’m ready for whatever comes next.
“Lie down on top of my desk,” he commands, his voice low and gritty, like he’s trying to hold himself back. “Feet up on the edge.”
A shudder of desire races through my body as I stand. The remains of my orgasm have my legs feeling like jelly beneath me, but the rest of me is tense—the heavy plug in my ass making sure I stay on edge.
I find the half of his desk that isn’t covered in papers and hop up, bending my knees so that my legs don’t fall off the side.
Weston steps forward and adjusts me, wrapping something black around my wrists and ankles with velcro. I try to move instinctively, but he’s secured them together, so I’m held wide open with my hands at my feet.
He drops his thin scrub pants to the ground, his thick cock hanging heavily between his legs. I crane my neck for a better view as he holds my gaze, tearing open a foil packet with his teeth and covering his cock in the thin rubber.
“Ms. Winters,” Weston says harshly, clearly still in character as he pulls my white cotton thong to the side. “When I think about adding you to my team, I think about several words. Growth, yes. Assistance, sure. But the most important thing that comes to mind is a different word.”
He reaches for the bulb and pumps it once, inflating the gag to the point that I almost choke.
“Expansion.”
I take several steadying breaths through my nose, wondering what he’s planning.
His fingers trail down my chest, taking the same path they did earlier. This time, though, he bypasses my clit and pussy to focus on the plug in my ass. He tugs on it several times like he’s making sure that it’s firmly in place, and I grunt because the sensation is shockingly arousing.
“There will be times when I ask for you to change things up. When I need things that require . . . training.”
The sound of something clicking into place breaks through the tense air, distracting me from the sudden ripple of pressure between my legs.
I squirm because the sensation didn’t hurt—it just surprised me.
Weston lets go of the plug, returning his thumb to my clit. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
I honestly don’t understand what he just did, but once the pressure subsided, it only gave way to more pleasure—more desperation.More desire.
I nod in response, feeling a trickle of drool begin to leak out of my mouth because the gag isn’t letting me swallow.
“I knew you would.” Weston begins slowly massaging me as his other hand strokes his cock, his jaw tight like he’s holding himself back. “We’re going to take it slow. Wouldn’t want to overwhelm your perfect little ass by stretching it too much in one day.”
My body feels like it’s climbing again, tightening with a familiar heat that only he can extinguish, and I can’t stop myself from arching my hips.
His gaze lands on mine.
“That being said,” he grits out, tilting his hips to place his tip at my entrance. “I have no doubt that you can take it.”
He slams forward, filling me with the full length of his cock as he lets out a satisfied groan.
I can’t cry out, I can’t move my arms or legs. All I can do is lie there and take it, savoring the way he pushes my body like I’ve never experienced before. I feel overwhelmed in the very best way as he begins to hammer my body, taking what he needs.
His hand spreads out over my low belly, providing just the right amount of pressure to help me find my second release.
Weston moans as my orgasm sets him off, pumping one final time and holding himself deep within me. His hazel eyes shine with adoration and love, letting me know that he’s done—this isn’t a game anymore.
He gives me a playful wink. “Consider yourself hired, princess.”