The Doctor's Command Page 10

  Paul’s lips met hers in a slow kiss, which deepened as he pulled her close and her fingers made short work of the buttons of his shirt and the fly of his pants. She was hungry for his naked body, the hard lines of his muscular torso and the thick straining planes of his thighs. He helped her push his clothes off, and soon the length of his cock was pressed against her soft belly as they kissed and caressed one another with the eager touch of two lovers who cannot get enough of one another.

  His fingers found her pussy and began to massage her there, sliding between her slick lips and pushing in and out of her tightness with slow strokes that stoked her desire all the more.

  “Paul,” she moaned against his mouth. “I think…”

  “Tell me,” he urged, cupping her pussy completely, the heel of his palm pressing against the tight little bud of her clit as he kept his hand in motion against her sensitive mound.

  “I think I’m falling for you…”

  He pulled his hand away from her pussy and replaced the length of his fingers with the head of his cock, the broad, flared end sliding along her engorged lips slowly as he looked deep into her eyes.

  “I’m falling for you too, brat,” he said, his words coinciding with a slow thrust deep inside her wet pussy that made every part of her sigh with carnal relief. This was what she had needed so badly, to be joined with him, to feel him moving inside her with powerful motions, claiming her for his over and over with each and every thrust.

  She spread her legs around his waist and lifted herself to him as his mouth descended on the rock-hard nipples of her breasts, her body locked in an ecstatic arch as she took everything he had to give, every thrust, every grinding motion of his hips against her hungry clit and pussy.

  They made love many times that night and Chloe came on his cock several times before he did, shivering and moaning, the walls of her pussy milking him for his cum. He fucked her long and slow and hard, and even when he finally did spill his seed inside her, his hips continued the slow strokes as she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep, wrapped in the arms of the man she was beginning to love.

  Chapter Eight

  The bright dawn found Chloe still cuddled up with Paul, but the mood of the previous evening had dampened like the embers of the fire as he doused it thoroughly to ensure it would not start a bush fire once they had left. It wasn’t that there was a sudden shortage of affection between them, simply that the mission they were on had to take precedence yet again. They had to get moving. Paul said he had spotted some patrols hanging back in the distance, entirely aware of their location and potentially looking to close in on them.

  “We might have to take a tougher route today,” he said, holding binoculars to his eyes. “They’ve stayed well back so far, but they might be trying to lull us into thinking they won’t come for us directly.”

  Chloe had almost forgotten the purpose of the exercise, but Paul’s reminder jolted her back to the conditions of their arrangement. If they got caught, they’d have to start all over from the beginning, and with fewer supplies. She didn’t see how that was possible, but she sure didn’t want to find out.

  So they set off yet again, propelled by the desire to beat their foes. Chloe was starting to think that she had a shot at actually completing the course. The idea of having kept up with Paul and made it through filled her with pride as they set off once again.

  There was little conversation about their previous evening’s lovemaking as they moved on from the safe zone. Chloe was not sure how to bring it up. ‘How about that sex, huh?’ didn’t seem to quite cut it. Paul was so focused on the task at hand that she wondered if he was even thinking about it. He was practically all she could think about. His admission that he was falling for her too had ignited a spark of deeper curiosity in his motivations for doing the film.

  “You don’t seem like a fame whore,” she said as she tramped in Paul’s wake, feeling much like a duckling following its mother. “So why are you making this movie?”

  “Well, the producers came to me after they read a book Jodie wrote about her experiences out there. I said no, at first, but they talked me around. Maybe someone will see it and be moved to do something about the humanitarian crises that are still going on out there.”

  “So you’re not doing it to be famous?”

  “God, no.” Paul grunted with laughter.

  “You know you’re going to be famous though, right?”

  “I’m most certainly not.”

  “You’ll be contracted to promote the movie, and there will be paparazzi following you, and…”

  “I’ve got my ticket booked back to Senegal in four months’ time,” he said. “Maybe there will be a bit of hype in the meantime, but it won’t last.”

  “You’re going back?”

  “Mhm,” he nodded. “They need doctors out there.”

  “Oh.” Suddenly she felt like sobbing. It took a supreme effort to keep her emotions in check. Apparently everything he’d said about there being something real between them had been a lie. He had one foot out the door even now. In six months, she’d be another story. The movie star he’d banged in Hollywood.

  He didn’t seem to notice how quiet she’d gotten, and they covered several more miles with her eyes watering. She didn’t see the rock that gave way, but she felt it slide out from under her foot, twisting it under her painfully and taking her to the ground in a painful heap that resulted in grazes and bruises on her hands and knees.

  She let out a thin, muted wail, not wanting to make too much sound, but unable to suppress the discomfort entirely. Paul turned to see her sitting on the ground where she’d crumbled, and was kneeling by her side in an instant.

  “What happened?”

  “I twisted my ankle,” she said, her lower lip trembling as her eyes filled with the tears she hadn’t allowed herself to cry. “And then I fell over.”

  He made a small sympathetic sound. “Let’s look at it,” he said, running his hand down her bare calf. “Can you move it at all?”

  “I don’t know. It hurts.”

  “Give it a minute,” he said, “just breathe.”

  She scowled at the stupid suggestion. What was she going to do, not breathe?

  “You’re holding your breath,” he said gently. “It’s a response to pain, but it doesn’t help. Breathe and let’s see if you can move this, even a little.”

  She managed to twitch her ankle slightly, braced against the pain she anticipated. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be. It wasn’t good either, but it wasn’t agonizing.

  “Okay, so it’s not broken, at least, not badly,” he said, gently unlacing her boot. “I’m going to take this off, and strap your ankle up.”

  He proceeded to do just that, working on her ankle with reassuring efficiency. Chloe was more upset by his comments about returning to Africa than the pain in her leg, but the injury gave her the excuse to shed the tears she had been holding back. She cried quietly as he wrapped long white bandages around her foot and lower calf, strapping and supporting the ankle so that it felt much better.

  “I’m calling this in,” he said, looking at her with real concern. “We’ll get you lifted out of here.”

  “No.” She shook her head and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “I don’t want to. I want to finish this.”

  “You’re hurt, Chloe. I have to call it in, and you’re obviously in a lot of pain…”

  “Would you have called it in if Jodie had sprained her ankle?” she interrupted him abruptly.

  “Well, I couldn’t have…”

  “Then you’re not calling it in for me either,” she said, suddenly filled with steely determination. Yeah, she was hurt a bit, but to hell with running from this mission. Nobody expected her to last the duration of the challenge. If this was meant to teach her a lesson about needing to be tougher, well, maybe she’d teach them a lesson about being tough instead.

  “Can you put weight on it?”

  She pushed up fr
om the ground, two hands and one good foot, then gingerly tested her ankle. It wasn’t pleasant to put the pressure of her body on it, but it was possible. As much as the bandaged joint complained, she knew she could use it.

  “It’s fine,” she said with a smile that was just a little too bright. “I was being silly. It was just a little twist.”

  “You need a crutch to keep some weight off it,” he said with a small sigh that indicated the victory of her will. “Sit back down and I’ll sort you something out.”

  She sat silently as he took his knife and went to work on a nearby branch, cutting it down to the right size and even fashioning a flat plane across the top of it so she could put it under her arm. She would have been very impressed with his craftsmanship if she weren’t so mad at him.

  “You’re doing this against doctor’s orders,” he said as she hauled herself up with her new crutch. “But I understand why you want to do it. Let me know if it gets too much. I’ll send up a flare and we’ll catch an airlift.”

  “It’s so easy for you, isn’t it,” she said, failing to hide the bitterness in her tone. “Just get in a plane and fly away.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her. “Did you hit your head on the way down? It’s a helicopter…”

  “I didn’t hit my head,” she said grumpily. “Let’s go. I know you’ve got other places to be.”

  “No. Wait,” he said, holding his hand up. “You’re in a weird mood.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes. And I don’t think it’s because of your ankle. Something’s distracting you. What is it?”

  “Nothing.” She cast her gaze down and to the side, at a rock that was sitting on top of another rock.

  “Chloe, don’t think that a sore ankle is going to stop you getting a sore ass too. Talk to me. Now.”

  “Fuck, settle down,” she snapped back in response to his growled inquiry. “I don’t have to tell you every thought that goes through my head.”

  “No, but you do have to tell me what’s distracting you so badly you injured yourself.”

  “Nothing!”

  “It’s not nothing,” he insisted. “I’m not playing these games, little girl. Answer me. Now.”

  What was she supposed to say? She was crying because some guy she barely knew and had slept with twice was going away? Was she supposed to tell him that the thought of him leaving made her feel like part of her stomach was missing and there was just a big hole that she knew she’d sink into? No. It was way too embarrassing to say anything like that. But he was waiting for a response, and she had to say something.

  “Fuck you.”

  His head snapped up, almost as if she’d hit him. And then it came down, his chin close to his neck, his brows drawing down over those piercing green eyes.

  “You have three seconds to tell me why you just said that, or you’ll get your mouth washed out right here where there ain’t any water. I’ll march you to the next river with a bar of soap in your mouth, girl.”

  He wasn’t playing. He seemed bigger and angrier and meaner than before, and Chloe kind of liked it. It gave her something to fight against. Something to be angry at.

  “Just try!”

  He took a deep breath and shook his head at her. “I can’t work out what’s going on with you. One minute you’re sweet as pie, the next you’re mad as a rattlesnake.” As he spoke, he set down his pack and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was going to make good on his promise to put soap in her mouth. He reached for his toiletry bag and pulled it out, looking her dead in the eye. “Last chance, Chloe. You’re already going to do the next three miles on a crutch. You want to do it foaming at the mouth too?”

  “I don’t care.” Fuck. The words were reckless, and a total lie. She did care. She just couldn’t bring herself to admit what it was she cared about.

  No zip had ever sounded as loud as the one on that damn toiletry bag. Paul reached for the little bar of soap, took it out, and dropped the bag back into his pack. She glared at him as he advanced upon her, holding it in his left hand. Ordinarily, she might have tried to run away, but her leg wasn’t going to allow for that. So she stood her ground, as if a glare might stop him in his tracks.

  It didn’t.

  He grabbed her hand and held the soap up to her lips. “Open.”

  Chloe clamped her mouth shut hard and rolled her eyes at him. As if she’d help him put soap in her mouth. Did he think she was an idiot?

  “Open up, brat.”

  “Nuh-uh.” She could make that noise without any need to open her mouth.

  “You are in for such a thrashing once I get to assess that ankle properly,” he promised her. “I am going to take my belt to that butt of yours…”

  The threats weren’t going to work on her. Chloe parted her lips to tell him that and he thrust the soap in over her teeth and tongue. It was only for a second before she spat it out, but it was long enough for the bitter taste to stick to her tongue and inner cheeks and get stuck on the ridges of her teeth.

  “Asshole!” She swore at him through the bitter taste. “You… dick!”

  “What the hell has gotten into you?”

  She could hear the frustration in his voice, and a part of her, a small part that was able to observe everything with a dispassionate distance, saw how silly she looked with a soapy mouth and a sore ankle, yelling at a man who was more confused than he was angry. He really didn’t know what was wrong.

  “You’re fucking leaving!” She threw the words at him. “After this movie! You said there was something between us, but that was bullshit, because you’re leaving!”

  He stared at her. “That’s why you’re angry!?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I’m angry,” she growled. “Give me some goddamn water.”

  “Ask nicely and maybe I’ll give you some.”

  “Ugh!” Chloe rolled her eyes, but that didn’t do anything. “Fine,” she said through gritted, soapy teeth. “Can I have some water, please?”

  Paul handed her a water bottle and stood over her as she tried her best to wash her mouth out. Unfortunately, the water only made things worse. The little scraps of soap stuck in her teeth got wet and dissolved into the water, filling her mouth with a soapy soft foam.

  “Did it ever occur to you that you could come with me?”

  She stared at him, a few bubbles of soap rolling down her chin.

  “Uh…”

  “I’ll take that as a no,” he said sternly.

  “I can’t go with you,” she said, confused. “I can’t go to Africa…”

  “Why not? You don’t like your life as it is now,” he pointed out. “You’re on the verge of throwing it all away. Why not get some basic medical training and come with me. Make yourself useful. Having someone famous out there would help the cause a lot. It’s not like you can’t come back to do movies.”

  It was sort of a nice idea, but… she shook her head. “Chase says I have to work as consistently as I can for the next five years. He says I won’t be worth anything after that.”

  “Chase is a leech,” Paul said bluntly. “He’s a man who makes his living off other people’s talent.”

  “He took care of me when nobody else did.”

  “He took care of himself,” Paul said. “The same way a pimp does.”

  “Are you calling me a hooker?” Chloe asked the question with cold fury in her voice. “Is that what you think of me? I’m some stupid whore being used?”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “It’s what you implied,” she said. “If Chase is a pimp, what does that make me?”

  “I didn’t say he was a pimp, I said his methods are the same. You’re about to go back over my knee if you’re not careful.”

  Chloe spurted another stream of water between her lips and rinsed her mouth out yet again, spitting the water in Paul’s general direction. Some of it landed on his dusty boots.

  “Oops,” she grinned unrepentantly. “Sorry.”


  “When I get you to the next safe zone, and I’m sure that ankle of yours is okay, you are going to get it, girl.” He growled the words in a sexy baritone that made something deep inside of her resonate. His words were probably supposed to make her contrite, but they had the opposite effect. She took another big swig of water and spat it in much the same direction.

  “Damn,” she said. “It’s like I’ve just got no control over where this stuff goes.”

  She hoped she could get under his skin, but instead of being annoyed, Paul just smiled at her. “Remember this, Chloe,” he said. “Later on, I want you to recall exactly why you’re being disciplined. Let’s go.”

  “Fine,” she said, hiding her disappointment at not getting more of a reaction. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  They set off again, albeit at a much reduced pace. Chloe found it really hard going with a sore ankle and a crutch, though she was far too proud to ask for help. Paul let her hobble along for about two minutes before he stopped, bent slightly in front of her, then scooped her up off the ground and tossed her over his shoulder.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” Chloe wriggled about, pushing against his shoulders so she could lift her head a little. Being carried like a sack of potatoes with her ass in the air and her head facing the ground was far from dignified.

  “We don’t have time for you to limp to the next camp,” Paul said. “I’d call the chopper in to get you to the next camp, but after that display, I think you and I need a little alone time first. There’s a few things we need to sort out.”

  Chloe had the distinct feeling that the ‘few things’ that were going to be sorted out definitely involved her butt being spanked somehow. “You don’t need to carry me,” she said, squirming more. “You’ll get tired out!”

  “I’ve carried more weight than you in active combat,” Paul laughed. “We have to carry full grown wounded men. A walk in the hills with a spoiled little brat like you is no big deal.”

  His arm was locked tight around her thighs, making escape from her predicament pretty much impossible. Chloe was stuck there with her butt presented to the sky, something Paul took advantage of on more than one occasion, landing a casual slap to her cheeks.