Page 73 of Goalie Secrets

“Give me a little taste, Dr. Kapur,” he pleads. “I’ll be so good if you give me a little taste.”

The playfulness is back. I welcome it.

“I’ll give you a taste, but you can’t move. Not even your lips.”

I hear his labored gulp. Jeremy nods. I bring a nipple to his lips. He sticks out his tongue. I pull away abruptly.

“Tsk-tsk. You’re forgetting the rules. Someone needs to practice restraint, remember? Promise you’ll be good.”

“I promise. Fuck, I promise.”

I rub his shoulders while grazing my breasts against his slightly parted mouth. He moans when I let a nipple snag his lower lip. Jeremy is so aroused, he’s thrumming. I ease the tremor of his body by wrapping my arm around his waist and massaging his lower back. This just happens to bring my neck within inches of his nose. He takes deep, shaky breaths.

“I shouldn’t know how good my doctor’s skin tastes, should I? But I do. Ido,” Jeremy mumbles as if in a daze, but he keeps his tongue and mouth from making contact.

“You’re doing so well. Do you think my favorite patient should get a reward?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

I kneel. Jeremy opens his mouth in a silent scream while his hips jerk up. I unbuckle his belt and lower his zipper. There isn’t much time before people wonder what we’re doing with the door closed.

Without warning, I wrap my mouth around the head of his arousal. His thighs tremble and his breathing stutters while Itake him deeper. I look up to find Jeremy has a fist in his mouth. It’s the only way to stop himself from making noise.

He must have wiggled out of the tie but managed to keep his hands off me. It’s a gratifying sight to reduce a man so gorgeous and polished to this tortured mess. I take him with renewed speed and suction. My senses drown in the intoxicating mix of his showered skin and salty pre-cum. The effort to fill my mouth with his thickness stokes, rather than satisfies, my hunger.

“Stop, Vanya,” he hisses. “Someone’s knocking on your door.”

My sloppy noises must have drowned out the knock. Jeremy lifts me and plops me on my chair. He scrambles to the floor, protecting his hard, wet cock from my unintentional kick. His body crumples under my desk a millisecond before my office door opens.

“Hey, Vanya, your next appointment canceled. Since it’s the last one of the day, you can leave early for once,” Sabrina says cheerfully. “Wait, isn’t Jeremy in here? I saw him come in.”

“He left. We didn’t have much to talk about because he’s so stubborn about new treatments,” I say too quickly and add, “He doesn’t want to discuss anything that gets in the way of game time.”

I make sure he hears my ongoing complaint, loud and clear. Although we try to keep the clinic and the bedroom separate—current situation not withstanding—I’ll never stop reminding him of the importance of proactive care.

Hot hands squeeze my knees before cupping my calves and guiding them open. I resist. Jeremy’s grip moves up my thighs. With considerable effort, I try to look normal instead of like a woman hiding a man under her desk. A man whose hot tongue licks the inside of one of my knees and then the other. I clear my throat to cover up my moan because, holy shit, I’m wildly turned on.

If Sabrina notices anything, she doesn’t show it. “Speaking of new treatments, can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course, Let’s, um…” I meant to stand up, but Jeremy’s clenching fingers keep me in place. He pulls, bringing my groin to the edge of the seat. I’m a puppet controlled from beneath by a man determined to put his head between my legs.

Unfortunately, because the move brought me closer to the desk, Sabrina translates it as me leaning into our conversation. Without warning, Jeremy’s tongue presses against my now soaked underwear. The sensation makes me want to roll my eyes to heaven. To pray for his sensual mouth to stop kissing me there, or to continue? I have no idea anymore.

“I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but I had a spinal disk replacement last year. Because of my accident.”

Jeremy stops. Sabrina’s uncharacteristically gloomy tone gets my attention, too. My anxiety shifts from worrying about how to manage our insane situation to listening to the woman in front of me.

“I haven’t seen your file but yes, I heard about it. The way you regularly exercise in our gym, I figured your recovery is complete. Is it?”

“It is for regular movements. But…” She pauses and her nose twitches. One stray tear leaves the corner of her eye. She wipes it away and inhales shakily.

I don’t rush Sabrina. As she gathers her composure, I realize how rarely she shows the world this burden. She was a professional in an elite league. Her entire life changed in the blink of an eye. It breaks my heart to watch her struggle, especially since she always seems carefree. The fact that she’s showing me her vulnerability is an honor.

We’re quiet for a minute. Somehow, in that minute my fingers have found Jeremy’s hair. He hasn’t moved an inch except toaccept my strokes. I’m petting his head—pettingmy patient, god help me—like this is normal.

“I haven’t been back. I mean, I skate and play around with a local league once a week, but not in front of the net.”

I feel Jeremy’s cheek lean on my leg and continue to run my fingers through his hair.