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Scandalous Mistress: Double Take / Captivate Me / My Double Life
Scandalous Mistress: Double Take / Captivate Me / My Double Life

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Scandalous Mistress: Double Take / Captivate Me / My Double Life

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“Maybe not,” she said with a heavy sigh that wasn’t quite feigned. Remembering what he’d said, she asked, “What’s second?”

“Second...ten?” he said, half laughing, half groaning.

“Oh, come on. You’re young, you’re strong. Where’s all that hot Italian blood I’ve heard about?” she teased.

“At this particular moment,” he said as he leaned forward to nuzzle her neck, “it’s all in my cock. But there’s not much I can do about that, now, is there?”

“Sure there is,” she said, arching back so he could trace his tongue down to the hollow of her throat. His breath was warm against her skin, his lips soft and tender. “All you have to do is tell me what you want.”

He lifted his head and stared at her, his dark eyes gleaming in the shadowy room, lit only by a hint of moonlight spilling in the front window. His hair was tousled, his jaw shadowed, his expression hungry. Lindsey was certain she’d never seen a sexier sight in her life.

“Not ask you?” he said, catching her emphasis.

She stroked a muscular shoulder, scraping her nails lightly across that smooth skin. “I’m finding I take direction better than I thought I ever would.”

“What if I directed you to go get something out of your toy box for us to play with?”

Shivering, shocked by the excitement that rushed through her, she said, “Well, you’d have to give me a few minutes to dig it out of the closet.”

“Why don’t you do that?” he said, kissing her collarbone, his hand stroking her thigh. “Pick out your favorite.”

“I don’t have one. I was serious when I said I’ve never used any of them.”

He paused, his hand staying where it was, and lifted his head until they were face-to-face. “Yeah. About that...?”

She understood what he was asking. They’d avoided the topic for a week, she’d never come out and told him what she really did for a living, or why she had a vast collection of sexual aids. She owed him an explanation, especially after what had happened with the Kama Sutra found in the parking lot.

Steeling herself for his reaction, whatever it might be, she said, “In my real life, I’m a counselor.”

“Like, at a high school?”

That was probably a logical assumption for him to make, but she laughed lightly. “I mean, a psychological counselor. A therapist. I work—I mean, I hope I still work—at a health-and-wellness center in downtown Chicago.”

Mike sat up straight, the sheets falling onto his lap. She eyed that big, broad chest, with its light sprinkling of dark, wiry hair. He was so nice to look at. The man was amazingly handsome during the day, but he was made to wear night.

Right now, though, he’d been thoroughly distracted from all the things he did so well during the night. Gaping down at her, he asked, “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“Not an M.D., but yes, a psychologist.”

“What on earth are you doing working as a teacher?”

Lindsey sighed as she realized the mood had definitely been broken. It appeared they were going to have to talk instead of getting to the naughty things she wanted to do to him.

“I’m on a leave of absence,” she admitted. “But the timing was perfect because of Callie’s situation. I’ve tried hard not to let anybody find out who I am. I don’t think the therapist-moonlighting-as-teacher thing would go over very well here.”

“Definitely not.”

She caught her lip between her teeth, eyeing him apologetically. “That’s one reason I tried to avoid getting involved with you. If this all comes crashing down, and you get caught in the cross fire, you could lose your job, especially with that whole stupid incident with the book. I’d be devastated if you were fired because of me.”

“I won’t be.”

“I’m so very thankful that you got out of the Chicago P.D. before you got seriously hurt.”

Not saying anything, he lifted a hand and rubbed a scar on the base of his throat, as if by habit. She’d noticed it before—she’d kissed it a few hours ago.

Understanding, she murmured, “Is that a reminder of your last job?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Just my bad luck to run into a desperate gangbanger with a long knife, who was out to earn his stripes.”

An inch closer to his jugular, and he would have bled out. She didn’t have to be an M.D. to know that.

Lindsey had to close her eyes and swallow hard to give herself a moment to come to grips with that. He could so easily have been killed, could have, without a doubt, ceased to exist before she’d ever gotten the chance to know him. That realization stunned and horrified her, and again, she wondered if she’d made a mistake getting involved with him. Because, God forbid he ever had to return to that life, especially because of a stupid job!

Finally, she replied, “Actually, I think it’s your good luck that his knife wasn’t longer or his aim wasn’t better.”

“Forget about all that. It’s in the past,” he said. Then he went back to her explanation. “What’s this leave of absence about?”

“It’s about getting me out of the way because I’m a liability.”

“What?”

“My employers asked me to go. They are calling it a leave of absence, but the truth is, it’s more like probation. I have to keep my nose clean, stay out of the papers, not draw any unpleasant attention that would reflect badly on the center. Maybe then they’ll welcome me back.”

“Assholes,” he said, lying down again to draw her close.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, a little stunned at his reaction. There had been no, “What did you do?” No, “Why?” just an indictment of whoever had done something to hurt her.

Oh, this man was special in so many ways. So loyal and so trustworthy. Which was why she decided to trust him and just reveal everything.

“I work for an extremely conservative practice. Very old school and stodgy. Unfortunately, the media got ahold of some excerpts of my dissertation on female orgasms and made a big joke out of it, putting my name, and the center’s, through the tabloid wringer.”

He shook his head, as if clearing it to understand. “Women’s... Wait, what kind of counselor are you?”

Too late to retreat now.

“I’m a sex therapist. I specialize in female sexual disorders.”

He shot up again. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he jumped out of the bed, standing naked beside it, gaping down at her. His brows shot up as his eyes rounded. His mouth fell open, snapped shut then opened again, as if he didn’t know what to say. Finally he managed, “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not.”

He was clearly having a hard time wrapping his mind around it. “You teach people how to have sex?”

“Not exactly. It’s more about helping patients—primarily women—understand their bodies and figure out why they make the choices they do when it comes to their sex lives. That’s why I have all the toys, by the way.”

He nodded slowly. “Like pharmacies giving out free drugs to doctors so they’ll prescribe the drugs to their patients.”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, glad he’d understood so quickly. “I have definitely recommended vibrators to some of my non-orgasmic patients.”

He swiped a hand through his hair, shaking his head, still a little shell-shocked. She supposed it was a bit much to take in, since he’d viewed her as the small-town teacher she’d been portraying.

“Mike, are you all right?”

She knew what his problem was. It was the same problem all the men she slept with had when they found out what she did. They were intimidated, thinking they were having sex with an “expert,” wondering if they were being judged or evaluated. She understood, which was why, in the past, she rarely told her lovers what she did for a living. Considering her relationships rarely lasted long, and never got to the point of true intimacy, it had never been a problem keeping that detail secret.

Mike, though, had already barreled through those defenses, just as he’d warned her he would. Revealing her profession hadn’t been just about making him understand about the toys. She also wanted him to know her—really know her—the way few people did.

When he didn’t answer, she said, “Are we all right?”

She wasn’t sure what “we” meant yet, but she realized she would not be satisfied with just one night with the man. The timing and location were beyond bad; nothing had changed in that regard. The only thing that had changed was that they both now knew how worth the effort a hot, secret affair would be.

“We’re fine,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at her. He reached out and brushed her hair back off her cheek, the caress tender and gentle. “But I’m glad you didn’t tell me that before. Having sex with a sex therapist? Talk about something to give a guy performance anxiety!”

She purred. “Baby if that’s your standard performance, you have nothing to be anxious about. Ever.”

A pleased, self-satisfied grin tugged at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. That was worthy of a standing ovation. I will be demanding an encore.”

He ran his fingers over her belly, gliding them up to caress the under-curve of a breast. “How many curtain calls?”

Growing breathless as his fingers danced across her skin, she murmured, “I believe the number we discussed was ten.”

“After a trip to the pharmacy.” He sighed. “Tomorrow.”

“Or maybe your place tonight? I assume the one you bought came with brothers and sisters in the box?”

He nodded. “But I live right downtown in an apartment over one of the antique stores.”

Oh. Talk about a lack of privacy.

“So I guess we’re just going to have to find something else to do right now,” he said as he traced a line up to her nipple and stroked it with his fingertip.

She gasped, loving the connection. But Mike had already done a lot for her tonight, and she was definitely ahead of him on the orgasm-meter.

A few hours ago, she’d been consumed by the idea of tasting him—of taking him into her mouth and sucking him into incoherence. Now seemed the perfect time to do exactly that. “Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

His expression said he didn’t understand.

“About what you want me to do?” She caressed his stomach, lowering her fingers to tangle them into the thatch of hair at the base of his sex. Encircling him with her hand, she stroked, up and down, and leaned forward to scrape her tongue across the seam of his lips, silently letting him know where else she’d like to lick him.

She heard his breaths quicken as he caught her meaning. “I’m not sure that’s something any man should ever tell a woman to do.”

She kissed her way down his rough jaw, still stroking him, occasionally dropping her hand lower to fondle the tight, vulnerable sacs below his erection.

“Okay, so you won’t order me. So do you want to tell me what you’d like me to do?” She squeezed him tighter, rubbing her thumb across the tip of his cock, where a bit of moisture dripped. Lifting her hand to her mouth, she licked it off, her eyes never leaving his.

“Yeah. I’ll tell you.”

She smiled, triumphant, sure of what he would say.

“I’d like for you to sit on my face.”

Her turn to gasp. That was not what she’d expected him to say. “But I want to...”

“You can absolutely suck my cock. At the same time.” His tone was as wicked as his expression. “I’m a multitasker.”

“Mmm,” she moaned, understanding what he wanted. Her whole body went warm and weak, moisture flooding her sex as she pictured it. She’d talked about this position with her patients, had taught it, even, but she’d never actually done it. This was the kind of intimacy long-term lovers engaged in, and her relationships usually didn’t last that long. Leave it to Mike to blow all those expectations away and suggest something so deliciously wicked on their very first night together.

Reaching for her jaw, he angled her face toward his and caught her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss. His tongue thrust deeply against hers, exploring her as if he hadn’t just kissed her to within an inch of her life a few hours ago.

Their mouths still joined, he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. Lindsey rubbed against him, loving the feel of that powerful heat between her legs, but wanting it now in her mouth.

When the kiss ended, she didn’t wait for him to make the next move. She turned around, maybe a little unsure, but also very aroused, exploring his hard, muscular body as she went. Mike took hold of her hips, pulling her back until she knelt, her knees on either side of his face.

“God, this is gorgeous,” he muttered before bringing her to his mouth and licking deep.

It was, as before, incredible. He used his tongue and lips to build an inferno inside her, and she was determined to make him just as fiery.

She lay down on top of him, taking his cock into her hand, marveling at its size and silky texture. The first brush of her lips on its tip caused him to flinch, and she smiled, glad she made him as crazy as he was making her. Flicking her tongue out, she tasted him, wetting him, then covered the engorged tip and sucked him into her mouth.

He groaned against her thigh, an unintelligible expression of lust, heat and satisfaction. Knowing he was savoring everything she did, she took more of him, and still more. Every stroke of her tongue was matched by one of his, and she honestly couldn’t say which was more delightful. The intensity overwhelmed her, but she never wanted it to stop.

The whole thing was so incredibly intimate—so erotic—that it was only a few minutes before a climax started rising in her. Not wanting to go there alone, she tightened her grip on the base of his shaft. She stroked him harder while her mouth worked him into a frenzy. He was groaning his pleasure against her sex as he licked and sucked her clit, bringing her ever closer to nirvana.

Finally, when she knew she couldn’t hold out another moment, she felt his body tense and jerk.

“Lindsey, you don’t have to...”

He was giving her the opportunity to pull away. Fat chance.

Sucking him as deeply as she could, she felt the slick fluid gush into her throat, salty, musky and hot. The carnality of it, combined with the incredible things he was doing to her with his mouth, pushed her right over the top, too.

Afterward, spent and satisfied, she kissed his flaccid penis, licking away the last of his juices, and turned around. She collapsed onto his chest, and Mike immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him for a slow, sultry kiss.

When it ended, she rested her head on his shoulder. Their breathing slowed, their heartbeats normalized—she could feel his against her chest.

Reality returned, and with it, sanity.

What had they done? Somehow she had to reestablish her boundaries, create some distance. They both had too much at stake not to.

Clearly not experiencing the same doubts, Mike rubbed a lazy hand down her back. “I’ve got to say, Lindsey, if that was number two, I just can’t wait to find out what three through ten are like.”

8

“TELL ME ABOUT this Thinkgasm thing.”

Sitting across from Lindsey at the empty coffee shop at six-thirty one weekday morning, Mike had waited until he was sure the owner was in the kitchen, out of earshot, before asking his question.

That was a good thing, because his lover almost hacked up a lung coughing over the mouthful of coffee she’d just sipped. He leaned across the table and patted her on the back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you choke.”

She got control of herself and quickly scanned the shop. “Are you crazy?”

“There’s nobody else here.” There probably would be in another fifteen or twenty minutes, when the other teachers and high school students started drifting in for their morning charge-ups. But for now they were entirely alone.

Lindsey had been working very hard to get her classes up to speed for their end-of-the-year exams. She’d told him that during the first two weeks of Callie’s surprise maternity leave, the inexperienced sub had done nothing but show movies with vaguely scientific themes—like Jurassic Park. So Lindsey always went in to the school superearly to get on top of the day’s work. She might not be a teacher by vocation, but she was dedicated and very serious about her temporary job. Just something else to admire about her.

Usually, she got her coffee to go. Mike knew that, which was why he’d made his own stop here as soon as he’d gotten off his overnight shift. He’d been waiting for her when she walked in, his smile a challenge, his offer to sit down and have coffee with him an invitation she couldn’t refuse. Risky, but since the place was deserted, she had agreed.

“Now, Thinkgasms?”

“You’ve been searching me on Google.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t?”

She ran the tip of her index finger along the rim of her mug. “Actually, I’m surprised it took you this long. It’s been ten whole days since you found out who I really am.”

Ten days. Was that all? Seemed as if he’d known her—been her lover—far longer than that. She’d become so much a part of his life, he had trouble remembering how he’d spent his spare time on the island before her arrival.

“You do a good job distracting me.” He smiled over his cup, letting her see the warm appreciation in his stare. Damn, he wanted her. They’d only been able to grab an hour together yesterday, between the end of her workday and the start of his work night. That hadn’t nearly been enough, and he was jonesing for her touch the way a junkie did for drugs.

“So, inventor of the Thinkgasm, tell me all about it.”

“Can you put that in the form of a question?”

He raised a brow.

“I guess you didn’t watch the Jeopardy! clip.”

“You were a game-show question? That’s some serious fame there, babe.”

“Yeah, uh, my bosses didn’t appreciate that kind of fame.”

“They’re idiots.”

“They especially didn’t appreciate the Today show coverage.”

“Dicks.”

“Well, to be honest, I wasn’t crazy about that one, either. They made my work into a big joke—some female guest was trying to Thinkgasm herself on the show. Har, har, let’s make fun of women’s sexuality and go all When Harry Met Sally diner-orgasm-scene on live television.”

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