At the pinnacle of her career, orthopedic surgeon Ava King conquers the lucrative medical field of London.
A wild and intimate night with competitive Formula One driver James Ellis ends with Ava being stood up. The rejection leads her straight into...
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I'm surprised at how well Gabriel is doing tonight. He doesn't bat an eyelid when I playfully flirt, and grind up against poor Charlie Ellis, he laughs when Gianna and I do our best impression at Beyoncé's booty shake and Nicki's twirk, and he looked impressed as fuck when I sang my little song.
Which makes me feel all the more guilty for what didn't happen when I was alone with James. I can't describe it, my brain goes into complete fuzz mode when James is around, and when he looks at me with those ocean baby blues, I turn into a hopeless heap of unicorn dust.
Gosh, I sound like a teenager.
And that's why I can't embrace whatever the fuck this is between us. James out and out said he'd hurt me, that he'd fuck it up eventually.
There's no bigger red flag than that.
I know Gabriel isn't everyone's ideal cup of tea, but he's got a big heart and brain... and hands and feet. You know what they say about men with big feet... they have large... socks.
He's mysterious and alluring, and I'm always on my toes around him, whether I'm trying to impress him with my work or the chip I get on my shoulder whenever I make him come. There's an edge, a danger to him, that simply pulls me in at high tide.
Gabriel pulls me in towards his body, wrapping his arms around my waist, whispering sweet nothings about what he plans on doing to me later. Did I mention he's good on his feet too??
"I can't wait to get you out of this dress, baby." He grinds up against me, giving me butterfly kisses down my neck. I'm surprised he's into the PDA. "If it weren't for all these people I'd have been fucking your brains out."
And as if by telepathy, the DJ starts playing some older R&B songs, Kelis's Lets get it on in public phasing in.
I turn to face him, with a naughty glint in my eye. "I may or may not have danced on a bar counter to this song once. Or twice."
Gabriel smirks naughtily, "What?"
"Uh huh." What would he do if I drop down to my knees? Taking Kelis's cue, I drop onto my haunches and slowly wind up his body, seductively brushing over his package.
Gabriel never, and I mean never blushes. But he's blushing alright.
"So you were a naughty girl back in your day?" He challenges.
"Naughty, maybe. Fun, definitely."
"Hmm if I had know you back then, I'd have definitely made sure your bum paid the price for dancing on tables."
Gabriel is fond of spanking, too.
But believe it or not he doesn't consider himself a dom.
Why not?
•••••••••••••••
"I don't know, baby." Gabriel got awkward when I brought up his sexual antics after a wild romp, and called him a dom. "When I started going for therapy, I thought the same thing. I like dominating my partners. And I like being rough. But I don't like restraints. That's sort of been the problem." He shifted uncomfortably. "Most dom-sub relationships work well because of boundaries. And generally, my Type A personality would love the thought of rules, boundaries, structure. But I don't like any of it when it comes to sex. That's why my therapist doesn't think it's pure dominant behaviour. I like having it my way."
