The Doctor + Four

Meal over. Time to go.

She didn’t want him to. Especially not when he’d just turned stiff and remote again. He deserved a happier ending to the evening.

“In my book, you’re a hero,” she told Barry. “Sorry I forgot to mention that earlier.”

“Glad we both lived to tell the tale.” In the sink, he filled the pans with water. “These should soak.”

“Thanks.”

Watchfulness, ruefulness, resignation—she read those emotions on his face as he removed the apron and picked up his jacket. He’d earned so much more, and suddenly she yearned to share the sense of trust and closeness he inspired. Even if it only lasted for one night.

“Don’t go.” Her words stilled his movements.

“Be careful what you ask for.” He waited. I’ll follow your lead.

Sonya rose. “For once in our lives, let’s do what we want. No strings and no regrets.” In case that wasn’t clear enough, she added, “Make love to me.”

“You don’t have to ask twice,” he answered, and drew Sonya into the powerful, hungry embrace she’d been longing for all evening.

Chapter Four

Barry’s experiences with women had been limited. Brief encounters after his release from prison as he’d traveled from one short-term job to another, then two affairs guaranteed from the start to lead nowhere.

He’d never learned how to tantalize and seduce. But Sonya apparently wasn’t in the mood for subtlety. When Barry caught her to him, her wildness thrilled him. Her tongue probed his mouth and her breasts thrust forward, the tips hardening.

Her intensity had drawn him from the moment they’d met, and during the course of the evening the attraction had deepened. Beyond her sensuous dark beauty, even beyond her compassion and determination, the unexpected quirks and the walled-off pain fascinated him.

At a level that was new to him, he simply needed her. But right now her physical delights drove anything else from his mind.

He couldn’t stop exploring the curve of her hip and the inward flare of her waist. And those liquid eyes! Barry stroked the tangled hair off her temples and savored the honesty in her gaze.

On tiptoe, she brushed another kiss across his mouth. Then she went to work on his shirt, undoing the buttons and smoothing her palm across his chest. The throbbing from his bruised ribs paled before the fire she stirred inside.

Some women might have fussed over the injury. Sonya merely slanted him a sympathetic smile before sliding both hands beneath his waistband.

Blissful agony swelled his groin. “Good grief, woman, do you realize what that does to me?”

“I’m hoping to find out.”

Barry raised her knit top to reveal the lacy curves of a bra. Grateful for front snaps, he opened it and bent to savor her breasts. She arched against the table for support.

He raised his head. “Let’s find a more comfortable place.”

“We might make it to the bedroom, if we’re lucky.” Catching his hand, she pulled him into the front room.

They barely made it to the first carpeted step. She simply folded and Barry eased on top, lips seeking hers, both tugging at each other’s clothing. The hardest part was removing her jeans at the ankles, where a stubborn pair of jogging shoes formed a roadblock.

From the slick, sweaty glow of their entwined legs to the flick of tongue on teeth, sensations brought Barry to the point of abandon. Enough of his brain still functioned for him to ask, “Are you on the pill?”

“No. Sorry.”

He fished for his wallet and extracted a condom he carried just in case. Sonya helped unroll it, teasing his erection until he nearly lost control. When she seized his hips and guided him inside, Barry closed his eyes and opened himself to a whole new world.

Glaciers split apart. Beneath his heated thrusts, green shoots broke through the ice as he and Sonya connected.

“It’s like flying,” she whispered.

Barry wished he were a poet so he could tell her how much this meant. “Off the rim of the earth,” was the best he could do.

She rode him from atop, skin exuding a hint of flowers. Joy spread into his marrow as the stairwell filled with her cries.

Their ardor spent, they pretzeled against the steps. As normal sensation returned, Barry discovered a cramp in one leg and a hard ridge digging into his spine.

“Where’s that bed?” he asked. “Or were you just putting me on?”

“I kind of like it here.” She kissed his shoulder. “After tonight, this place will hold some of my fondest memories.”

“What’s the medical term for a crick in one’s back?” he persisted.

“Musculoligamentous strain.”

When he laughed, a twinge shot through his ribs. Instinctively, Barry gave a jerk, and only quick action kept Sonya from skidding down to the floor.

He caught her arm. “Definitely time to stretch out.”

“I’m afraid so.” Ignoring the scattering of garments, she led him up. Splendid shape, Barry noted as he observed her derriere, and hoped he’d have occasion to make love to her again at leisure.

A queen-size bed awaited in a room exploding with vivid hues. Although the sky through the window remained blue-black, Barry imagined he could detect the dawn of a new day.

Perhaps he should postpone his flight to give them another few hours together, he reflected as they slid beneath the covers. They had a lot to talk about.

He couldn’t seem to keep his lids open, though. Utterly at peace for the first time in years, Barry curved around Sonya and fell asleep.

EVEN AFTER SHE OPENED HER LIDS, she wasn’t certain she’d been dreaming. It had seemed so real: the scream of metal, then searing pain. As she lay helpless on the pavement, Duke had loomed above, knife in hand. Two traumas merged into one terrifying scene.

Emerging from the nightmare, Sonya didn’t recognize her surroundings. Only gradually did she begin to make sense of the familiar outlines of her bedroom, eerie in the moon glow through the window.

A noise from the hallway alarmed her. Struggling to move, Sonya made the horrifying discovery that her muscles had locked in place.

Her brain recognized that she must be suffering a form of sleep paralysis, which had happened a few times before. In minutes, it would vanish.

She heard the whisper of footsteps across the carpet. Dear Lord, let this be a dream. But it didn’t feel like one.

Abruptly, a male shape reared above her. Battling the paralysis, Sonya groped for the bedside phone. The receiver clattered off its base and fell.

The bed dipped as the man sat. “Sonya?”

She thought she’d heard that voice before. “Who…?” Couldn’t finish.