Page 11 of Playing the Field

Chapter Three

Anastasia

The frigid night air brushes against my clammy skin as I make my way to the parking deck of the hospital for the last time. It’s been three weeks since I received that life-changing call from the Tigers, and I’ve been counting down every second since. I turned in my notice the very next morning, with only a small amount of professional guilt for leaving the nursing staff another doctor short.

While there were some lows during my last few shifts, I also got to experience a few final rewarding moments. Like watching Mrs. Jenkins wheel her husband through those double glass sliding doors, both of them wearing matching smiles because he beat the odds and is going home.

I climb into my car and grip the steering wheel with both gloves hands, squeezing tightly as I let the emotions of the last week surge through me. It’s an odd mix of elation, guilt, excitement, and fear. I start my car, trying to dispel the jittery nerves as I head toward my apartment, hoping that Veronica is home.

I need my drinking buddy tonight.

Because tomorrow I head to the Tigers’ facility to meet with the team and sign the rest of my contract.

The drive through the city is quiet, and I don’t realize until after I’m parked that I never turned the radio on. I was too caught up in my thoughts to even notice. The silence is short-lived though, because as soon as I open the apartment door Veronica ambushes me.

“Happy last day!” She shouts and throws a streamer at me and holds up two glasses of white wine.

I bat the streamer away with a shriek and then take one of the glasses from her. “It was bittersweet,” I say quietly and sink down into the plush cushions of our sofa. “I’m nervous,” I admit after a few sips from my glass.

“It’s a big change,” she responds with a small nod toward the television, where a highlight reel is playing.

I watch the snippets flash across the screen, my leg bouncing rapidly. “What if they aren’t anything like I imagined? What if I hate the medicine? What if…” I let my voice trail off as the fear churns in my stomach.

What if I can’t handle it?

“Uh uh, none of that. We do not let doubt and self-pity live in this apartment and you know it!” Veronica finishes her glass and sets it on the table. “You need to get some of this nervous energy out. You’re too keyed up. What you need…” her voice trails off and I already know what she’s about to suggest.

I hold up my hand to stop her. “I don’t need to get laid,” I quip and set my empty glass down beside hers. “I don’t need another one-night stand. The last one was enough.”

“Was it though?” Vee asks doubtfully, her eyebrows quirked. “Because you haven’t had sex or even gone out with a man since you got back from your Cape Town adventure.”

The memories that I’ve been trying so hard to tamp down resurface with a vengeance. It was only one night. How could it leave such a lasting impression on me? Despite my efforts, I can’t forget the man I so boldly propositioned on my last night in South Africa.

Graham.

His lips as they pull up into that devilish smirk. The way his eyes smoldered in the dim light of the restaurant when I seated myself at his table. His fingers as they explored every part of me. Then there was his tongue…

“Earth to Ana!” Vee snaps her fingers at me and the thought abruptly stops. “You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?”

“It was hard to avoid because you brought him up!” I argue and hug a pillow to my chest, trying to recover from the shock of pain in my heart.

“Sorry,” she mutters and wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “But you’re the idiot who didn’t get his last name.”

She’s right, though. We agreed to maintain a level of mystery and only exchanged first names.

“I don’t need that in my life right now anyway,” I respond distantly, my mind already straying back to the memory of his lips on my skin. If only I could put my money where my mouth is. My stomach flutters and need floods through me so viscerally that I have to clench my thighs together. “I’m going to bed.”

“Goodnight, Ana,” she calls after me as I slink down the hall and close the door behind me.

I groan and drop face down onto my bed, a mixture of heartache and left loathing twisting my insides because I can’t shake the memories of that night in Cape Town. It’s been a few weeks since I last found myself in this position, but the need pulsing between my thighs is too strong to ignore. I have no choice but to surrender if I want to get any sleep tonight, so I grab the vibrating wand from my nightstand and shimmy out of my leggings.

My eyes squeeze shut as I imagine his fingers skimming along my skin, tracing a scorching path down my stomach and between my legs. I can almost hear his ragged panting and his deep baritone in my ear.

“Spread your legs for me, Doc, let me see how wet that needy cunt is for me.”

I turn it on and lightly press it against my throbbing clit. My legs jerk as my knees fall open and white hot desire engulfs me. The thought of him sitting at the edge of the bed watching me chase an orgasm makes my stomach quiver in the most delicious way. I trace the wand in slow circles along my clit, my hips jerking erratically.

“Look at how you squirm for me.”