There’s a pause of expectation in the air. I can feel it, but have no idea how to respond.

Shit.

Every visit is like this. Maybe I need a new doctor—a male one. This one is too damn sexy and probably ten years older than me. I rarely go for older women, but there’s something about her pearl necklace and those damn glasses I can’t resist. She unknowingly taunts me, as I fantasize not about the earpiece of her glasses in her mouth, but shoving my dick past those perfectly lined lips.

Dr. Fedorov or Irina, as she has asked me to call her, is undeniably attractive. She’s an unusual combination of professional and sexy, but gives off this dominating vibe. Irina asks me her questions, but my mind is obsessed with how many ways I can fuck her in this office.

“Emmett, did you hear what I said?”

I clear my throat trying to focus more on the present and will away my hard-on before she notices. “No, sorry.”

“I asked how are things now with Bree?”

Oh, God.

My latest fuckup.