14 ~ Noah

We fuck again in the morning. A slow, languid, wakeup fuck that makes me want to stay in bed with Steffi for the entire day.

“I’m blown away by all these orgasms, Noah,” she says. “What do you think did it after so much failure?”

“Like I said, sometimes it’s just a matter of finding someone you’re compatible with. For most women, an emotional connection is important. Well, that, and reading your favorite smut like you were the other night when I texted.”

She giggles and rolls out of bed. “I have to meet Terra for a ride.”

“Come back, I haven’t finished with you,” I say, trying to grab her arm.

Instead, she picks up her kindle and tosses it to me. “Here you go. Console yourself with a dirty story.”

I drop my head back on the pillow and close my eyes. It must be all the sex that’s relaxed me because I sleep for another hour and when I wake, I’m alone in Steffi’s apartment. I roll over and the kindle digs into my ribs. I flick open the cover and reveal the story she’s currently reading.

Shit.

Hell.

Fuck!

It’s one of mine. Adventures of Naughty Nurse Natalie. I check her kindle. She has every story I’ve written. My heart’s thumping wildly and that’s nothing to do with the quality of the writing or the story. She doesn’t realize I’m Doctor O, I’m sure of that. I jump out of bed and pull on my pants from last night. There’s a note in the kitchen from Steffi, where she’s left out food for my breakfast.

I scrawl a message on the bottom of the note that I’ll catch up with her later, and I head upstairs to shower and change.

When I’m done, I log on to O-Zone. I’ve been neglecting it somewhat since I arrived in Queenstown but when the ’gasm-girls ask where I’ve been, I tell them I’ve been writing a new story. It’s true. I have one outlined and partially written. I work on it for the next hour but I’m deleting the fresh words as fast as I type them. I can’t help thinking that everything I write is inspired by Steffi. And this isn’t an erotic story. It’s a love story.

I slap the laptop closed. There’s a message on my phone from Cam, who wants to meet me for brunch. I’ve no idea how long Steffi will be out for so I tell Cam I’m on for brunch and send a message to Steffi to say I’ll meet her later.

Within the hour I’m sitting opposite Cam, surrounded by the ever-present view of the lake and mountains. I think it’s something I’ll never tire of looking at. When I lived at the hut with Dad I remember as a kid I’d get up in the morning, go outside to wash and that view would astonish me. It was the only constant in my life at that time. The only thing that didn’t let me down. Rain, mist, snow, sunshine, whatever weather cloaked the landscape, I loved it. And that view healed the bruises I wore after a drunken hiding from my father.

I can’t look at Cam without thinking about Steffi. I’m hiding things from my best friend, and I’m hiding things from Steffi, too.

“How are you settling in?” Cam asks.

“It’s good. I love this place. Work’s good. The pace is so different. I think a few of the patients are surprised to see me as their doctor.”

“I hear you did some good work filling in up at the hospital the other night.”

I laugh, shaking my head. The view might be great, but this is a small town and it seems there’s little you can get away with. “Just helping out. They were short-staffed. I have to say, they really need the MRI that’s going into the center. I had to send one patient to Invercargill and one to Dunedin. That’s nuts. Did you sort out the funding support from the Health Board?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

We carry on for a while discussing the medical center, then out of the blue Cam asks if there’s anything going on between Steffi and me.

“Hell, Cam, why would you even ask that?”

He shrugs as if it doesn’t really concern him. “Jodie—Neville’s wife—mentioned it, after you left. She raised it as a ‘snag’ with Steffi being the center manager and you coming on as head doctor.”

“Libby and Nicholas are married,” I say, reminding him of the relationship status of the other two doctors in his father’s practice. Immediately I realize that not only does that sound defensive, but it’s as good as an admission of guilt.

“Libby and Nicholas were married before we hired them. It’s a lot different to two key people in the business conducting an affair. I assured Jodie that any familiarity she thought she saw between you and Steffi was because you’re like brother and sister. Are you listening?” he asks.

“I’m listening,” I say, even though I can hardly hear what he’s saying over my grinding teeth.

“Thank you. I know you wouldn’t touch my little sister. I know she’s grown up while you were away, and she’s always idolized you. But I like to think that inside the bad boy is a man of honor.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Campbell. Listen to yourself. You sound like everyone else in this town. Enough of the bad-boy label, please, because it’s tired and old. Steffi is a grown woman, and I’m not that angry teenager. I’m thirty years old and I think I’ve proved myself as a fairly adept physician, so get off my back.” I keep my voice level, and I’m hoping I haven’t protested too much. Obviously I have because Cam holds up his hands.

“Whoa, okay? Everything’s good then, because Jodie and Neville are two votes you need from the board to put you in the top job. I have to report back to them and assure them we’re fine.”

“Steffi’s like a sister to me,” I say, hating the fucking lie because as this discussion goes on, I know she already means much, much more.

“I know. Look, I’m just reporting what the board’s saying. You might be an investor, but those guys last night hold the balance of power.”

“I understand.”

“Tomorrow we’re all going to one of the wineries for lunch before Jodie and Neville fly back to the US. Why don’t you come along with us? I’ve told Steffi she needs to be there. Simone’s been making noises about how young and inexperienced she is to be appointed as practice manager. Her position’s safe. Simone’s just being a bitch. But I want Steffi there to shut down Simone’s doubts.”

“I’d love to—”

“Liar.”

“Yeah, well, there’s that, but I do have a lot to catch up on.” I want to ask if Kennedy’s going to be there and if Cam could do Steffi a favor and stop trying to find her a boyfriend. Not that Kennedy could be considered boyfriend material. He hasn’t been young enough for years. Kennedy’s more in the sugar daddy category, and Steffi’s not that kind of woman.

But, she’s my kind of woman, and that’s all I care about.

When I get home I work further on the story I’m writing, even though I’m struggling to keep the romance out of it and make it the straight smut my readers are used to. Who knows, perhaps they’ll enjoy some romance?

I open up O-Zone, intent on asking them.

There’s a private message from Zer-O.

Hi Doctor O. I’m just popping in to say goodbye. That guy I met, Stroke Master — LOLs — well, we’re progressing in every aspect of our relationship. I wanted to thank you for your support, and encouragement, and the awesome filth you write. I’m signing off O-Zone for a while. Maybe forever. But I wanted you to know you provide an awesome service for women like me. You’ve given me the confidence to have mind-blowing orgasms. (Last night… I tell ya … the earth moved. Did you feel it in your part of the world?) So, rambling here. But I wanted to say thanks from the bottom of my heart (and other parts of my body), which is also kinda weird because you’re a stranger maybe-doctor-maybe-not who writes sexy stories. Keep up the good work. I bet there are lots of other women out there like me who you’re helping, even if you don’t know it. Kisses (platonic ones, on the cheek, cos, Stroke Master is my #1 and only), Zer-O-No-More.

Right.

I’m strangely sad Zer-O won’t be around anymore, but I’m so happy for her, and that she’s found her #1. When I started O-Zone it was simply intended as a safe place for reading fans to get together. It cut down on my work because I didn’t have to have the same discussions, and answer the same questions, over and over. It’s on my own platform which means we aren’t constrained by the rules and censorship of other social media platforms. Facebook shut down my first group. O-Zone actually freed up my time. I soon discovered the members created a camaraderie and took care of each other, and I wasn’t needed so much.

Zer-O was one of the first people to join up, and is the first person to officially leave. In some respects, it means O-Zone has matured. Unfortunately, her farewell message makes me rethink my decision to shut the whole thing down. It’s serving a useful purpose to a number of people, and I’d hate to cut that off.

At some stage I’m going to have to explain O-Zone to Steffi. I’m sure she’s open-minded enough to see beyond the blatant sexy talk that goes on there and understand the good that it does for a lot of these women, but I’m still concerned that it’s out of line with my position as a health provider. If the media got hold of it, they’d have a field day and my career would be over.

I hear movement in the apartment downstairs. I go through to the kitchen, where the floor is wooden, and tap on it.

Seconds later, I get three taps back. Steffi must have used the broom handle to reach her ceiling. I send her a quick text asking if she wants to come and test drive a vehicle with me. I’ve gone off the idea of an expensive new 4WD, favoring a classic Land Rover I saw on my way back from brunch with Cam. I’m about to take it for a drive.

She texts back a “yes” and tells me to meet her downstairs.

I’m down there in a flash, feeling like an over-eager teenager. Steffi’s wearing my favorite skinny jeans, boots, and a big bulky sweater. She could wear a sack and rubber boots and I’d still find her hot. I know what’s beneath the layers, and that’s good enough for me.

She looks up with the brightest smile.

“You’re looking happy,” I say.

“You mean this?” She draws a circle in the air around her face.

“Yeah, that. It’s a cat who got the cream kind of look,” I tease.

“It’s better than that, dah-ling,” she says in this fake sex siren voice. “This is the face of the cat who found the Stroke Master, and you know how much a pussy likes to be petted.”

While Steffi’s doubled over laughing, I swear my blood turns to ice.

Fuck!

I’m trying to laugh with her, but can’t raise anything resembling that. Stroke Master was how I referred to Zer-O’s new man in our chats. And, how Zer-O referred to him when she wrote her farewell message.

It can’t be. This has to be a coincidence.

Steffi recovers and gives me a questioning look. “What? You don’t like my sex-bomb persona?”

“I adore it,” I say, taking her in my arms. “But, Stroke Master? It makes me sound like some leather-clad guy in a bondage dungeon.”

“I just might find that sexy,” she says.

I do the only thing I can do under the circumstances. I kiss her hot, sexy mouth and work a hand up under her sweater and across her smooth skin. Cupping one breast, I lightly thumb a nipple until she groans in my mouth. I break the kiss, but she grabs the back of my head and pulls my mouth back to hers.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me,” she says against my lips, “but I’m horny again.”

“You’ll have to be patient. I’m due to test drive another car in a few minutes. Come with me.”

“We can christen it,” she teases.

“You’re insatiable. Grab a coat, this could be breezy.”

“You’re test driving a sports car?”

“Wait and see.”