“Hi, Mom,” Julian said as Bridget opened the door to her former office at the clinic.

Crap, she’d hoped he wouldn’t be there. Now she would have to come up with a lie for why she needed her coat.

She grabbed it off the hook. “I’m taking my coat to put it in the laundry. Do you need yours laundered as well?”

“I can do it myself.”

“Right. So I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Had she imagined it, or had he sounded amused?

Nah, there was no way he could’ve guessed what she needed the coat for.

Where could she change, though?

The classroom she and Victor used for an office didn’t have a bathroom, and changing in the room while he watched would spoil half the fun.

A stethoscope would make the pretend game even better.

Glancing one way and then the other, she ducked into the back entrance of the clinic, through the waiting room and into the operating room, and from there into the supply room. There should be a stethoscope in one of the cabinets.

Bingo. She’d remembered correctly.

Quickly, she took her clothes off and put the coat over her nude body. Unfortunately, it was a shapeless one she normally just threw over her regular clothing. It was far from sexy.

If she could only find a belt to cinch it with.

Looking around, she spotted a roll of dressing. It would have to do. With quick hands, she unrolled it, cut off a long piece and looped it twice around her waist. Next, she shoved her clothes into a plastic bag. Unfortunately, she could only find the ones used to dispose of operating room trash, which were clear. If she encountered anyone out in the hallway, there would be no way to hide what she had in there.

Worst case scenario, she could claim to have spilled something over her clothing, which would explain why she was wearing her doctor’s coat with a belt made from dressing and why her clothes were in a plastic bag.

Opening the door to the corridor, she peeked out and looked both ways before sprinting the sixty feet or so separating the clinic’s back door and the office where Victor was waiting for her.

She smiled at the post-it note with his neat handwriting affixed to the door. He’d also covered the small square window at the top.

A moment before bursting in, she remembered the stethoscope, pulled it out of her coat pocket, and hung it around her neck.

“The doctor is here,” she announced upon entering.

A bare-chested Victor was sitting on the table with a big grin on his handsome face. His shirt was affixed with tape to the interior side of the door’s window.

“Hello, doctor.”

She sauntered up to him. “What seems to be the problem, sir?”

“I’m afraid it’s an acute case of horniness.”

“Well, then, there is only one remedy I can recommend.” She walked in between his spread legs and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Kiss me.”

He grabbed her hips and pulled her against his erection, then kissed her, stroking her mouth with his own, then sucking on her lower lip.

She slipped her tongue into his mouth, tasting the bitter coffee.

As he took over the kiss, his palm moved to the back of her head, and his other one closed over her hip. Holding her to him, he plundered her mouth with his tongue.

She moaned, needing so much more than that. Bare underneath her coat, her nipples tightened, aching for his touch.

Still kissing her, his hand left her hip, skimming her waist and moving over to find her breast. He tweaked her hard nipple, then leaned down and closed his mouth around it through the fabric.

She shivered, the suction sending pulses of desire down to her center. After doing the same to her other nipple, he slid off the table and lifted her up, then put her down in the exact spot he’d vacated.

The table retained his body heat, transmitting it to her through the thin fabric of her coat.

Bridget slid her hands over his chest and his tight pectorals, then further down to unclasp his belt and lower the zipper. The slacks hit the floor, the belt buckle clunking against the concrete. She cupped his sex over his cotton briefs, the fabric stretched tight over the hard ridge, then rubbed her thumb over the plump head that had pushed past the waistband.

Victor threw his head back and groaned, his whole body shuddering at the contact.

She tugged the briefs down his muscular thighs, freeing his shaft and closing her palm around its girth.

Leaning into her, he planted one hand on the table and let his head fall on her shoulder.

She licked his neck, tasting the saltiness as her palm moved up and down his erection.

“Fuck.” He put a hand over hers to still her. “That’s enough.”

Reluctantly, she let him take her hand off his erection and place it on the table beside her.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, freeing the top two buttons of her coat.

His lips burned a path from her neck toward her breast.

“Oh, yes!” she cried out when his mouth formed a seal around her nipple. He suckled it hard until it throbbed, and then nibbled a little before repeating on her other side.

Keeping her hands on the table, she let her head drop back, surrendering to Victor’s lips and his tongue and his fingers. Her body was turning liquid under his touch, her core tightening with need.

He cupped her ass cheeks, pulled her up against his hard body, and then twisted her around, pushing with his hand on the small of her back until she was bent over the table, her cheek on the wooden surface.

Cool air hit her behind as he flipped the coat up, exposing her.

She sucked in a breath, her core clenching in anticipation.

“You’re so ready for me,” he said as he pushed two fingers inside her wetness.

“I need you.”

He cupped her sex, pressing his thumb to her clit. “Do you want me to make you come first?” he whispered in her ear.

“No, I want you inside me right now.”

She was too turned on for prolonged foreplay, her empty sheath aching with the need to be filled, and not by his fingers.

As he withdrew his digits, the hand on the small of her back moved up to cup her neck, and he pushed inside her with one hard thrust, then stilled, letting her adjust to the penetration.

Fates, it was good.

On a moan, she pushed back, her ass hitting the coarse hairs of his groin.

Victor started moving, long hard strokes that pushed her against the table. She didn’t mind that the edge was biting into her belly, or that her sensitive nipples were being dragged back and forth on the wood surface. All she cared about was the sensation of being deliciously filled by her man.

Soon, he was pounding into her fast and hard, his harsh breaths fanning over her shoulder, his sweat slickened front sticking to her back through the fabric of her coat.

Circling his arm around her middle, he rubbed two fingers over her clit. “Come for me, Bridget.” His blunt teeth closed over the soft flesh where her neck met her shoulder, and he bit down, not hard enough to pierce skin, but hard enough to leave marks.

With a keening moan, the climax exploded over her just as his shaft swelled inside her.

Through the orgasmic haze, a tendril of a thought floated through her mind—a prayer to the Fates for Victor’s seed to find fertile ground.