"That's it, baby," he continues, his tone almost soothing, despite the filth spilling from his lips. "Take my cock. Take all of it."
Baby.
My belly flutters, my heart soaring like a fool even though I know it's a runaway utterance. A thoughtless spi...
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I walk around the store, pacing as I continue to wait for Trixie to finish up and pay and hoping that my legs will relieve my mind of some of its own incessant pacing, but it doesn't. In fact, it actually makes it worse.
I can't stop thinking about that contract. I've tried countless times to wrap my head around the situation. There's no way he could have really been serious about it...but then again, he hasn't done or said anything since I last saw him to make me think he isn't.
...including but not limited to fellatio, cunnilingus, analingus...
An unusually violent shiver rushes down my spine and back up again as I remember the words it contained; words that have now been etched into my mind.
Soon, my legs go on overdrive so that my pacing practically becomes jogging.
I can't believe that the mere memory of this unbelievable man and his outrageous proposition is making me fucking jog inside a costume store.
Ugh! I just can't deal with this right now. I really need a distraction, and it's obvious I won't find one in here.
I look over to the checkout counter to find Trixie still waiting to pay, standing impatiently behind a woman who seems hell bent on buying the entire store.
Christ, it's always that one annoying person who hogs the line and slows things down for everyone else, and always seemingly on the worst days, too.
I try to pacify my frustration by pacing some more, but my eyes soon land on one of the nearby shelves, and I see something that immediately makes my legs stop moving.
A stethoscope.
My mind immediately jumps back to Frost's office, the images of our very first encounter running through my head on autoplay. It's pretty strange, but I remember every detail of that stethoscope; from its impressive length and expensive appearance, to the way it was casually draped around his neck, looking proud and confident, almost as if it was an extension of him.
I didn't realize I had paid so much attention to it in just the few moments I'd spent face to face—or skin to skin, I suppose—with it, especially considering I had a really hard time thinking or even breathing during said moments.
My attention goes back to the stethoscope in front of me. Unlike Doctor Frost's, this one is small and looks obviously fake, made of cheap translucent plastic instead of rubber and galvanized metal; a mere shell of the black and silver one that had been grazing my skin weeks ago. It also looks isolated and out of place. I'm betting someone probably removed it from a doctor costume package and carelessly displaced it, because it's surrounded by a bunch of weird-looking pumpkin buckets and cheap candy.
I approach it with an unnatural sense of curiosity, even as the other half of my brain screams for me to just turn and leave, warning me that all I'm doing is giving the man it reminds me of more attention than he deserves.
I eventually reach for it, my hands slow and tentative, as if they're about to touch something really hot. I don't know why, but my heart picks up speed, thumping and pumping audibly in my chest as my hand closes in on the stethoscope. As soon as I touch it, time seems to stretch and compress around me simultaneously, blurring past and present, and the memory of my first encounter with Frost comes rushing back to me, incredibly vivid as if it just happened in the last few seconds instead of weeks ago.
I remember all of it with remarkable clarity;
The jolting sensation of cold metal against my skin.
The woody, masculine scent of his cologne filling my nose.
The immense power and control in his warm, strong fingers as they dug slightly into my belly.
The unmistakable feel of a hardened cock against my knee; a stark, almost ironic contrast to the soft fabric of the scrubs that concealed it.
The answering throbbing in my pussy, hot blood pulsing rapidly in my core and heat emanating from between my thighs.
The feel of firm, delicious muscles lining his broad shoulders pushing back against my fingertips, their strength obvious even when hidden beneath his crisp, white lab coat.
His really dark, almost blue-black hair, framing his handsome face incredibly well, enhancing his already ridiculous bone structure, and a direct, extreme contrast to those piercing, damning, icy blue eyes; eyes that always seem to reach so deep inside me, stripping me down to the bone, to the point where my very soul feels impossibly naked whenever I'm around him.
Three sessions...
...a business arrangement...
...your countdown begins...now...
"All set!" Trixie's jovial voice comes through abruptly, shattering all thoughts going through my head in the blink of an eye and making me come close to jumping out of my skin.
Her expression turns quizzical. "What the hell? You look like you've just seen a ghost," she says, her eyes searching mine, almost as if she's trying to analyze my reaction.
"You just surprised me is all," I offer, holding my hand to my chest as if the action will convince my heart to slow down.
She looks in the direction I had been. "You find something you like over there?" she asks, pointing toward the shelf.
I shrug, feigning nonchalance. "Not really."
She turns to face me, arching her brow suspiciously. "You've been staring at those for a while now, Roni. I watched you from the check-out counter and you seemed pretty focused on this section. You sure you didn't finally change your mind about getting something? Although, I have to say," she adds with a chuckle, scanning the costumes, "I wouldn't recommend dressing up as Indiana Jones or Dracula. Maybe their wives, though."
I shake my head. "No, I was just killing time," I lie. I take one last look at the lone stethoscope before turning to her with a nod. "Let's go."
***
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