Unfriending the Dr by Piper Sullivan
Persy
~ Three Months Ago
“It feels so good to get out of these shoes!”
As soon as the door to my red and white farmhouse opened, I stepped inside and kicked off the strappy silver stilettos I’d worn for the ball—the Night of a Thousand Heroes Ball, sponsored by my technical employer, Jackson Ridge Medical Center. It was the first time I’d gotten really dressed up in a long while, and tonight, I’d gone all out.
My best friend Ryan Branson shook his head as he stepped inside behind me. “I don’t know why you wear those torture devices, Persephone.”
Yep, that’s me. A doctor in the twenty-first century with the name of an ancient Greek goddess. My mother wasn’t just a hippie, but a lover of Greek and Roman mythology, hence the name. Everyone except Ryan called me Persy. “Because look at them, Ry. Look at them, and tell me they aren’t magnificent.”
He shrugged. “They’re just shoes. But if I tell you how sexy they are, will you model them around the living room for me?”
I shivered at his words and quickly shook off that reaction. This was Ryan—my best friend since forever. “After you twirled me around the dance floor all night like a rag doll? No way. But if you agree they’re magnificent, I’ll wear them to get us something to drink.” I was in desperate need of liquid pain relief, after wearing a plastic smile all night and teetering around on those incredible heels.
Ryan held up a hand and shook his head. “Since I’m wearing sensible shoes, I’ll get the drinks. You,” he pointed to the sofa, “rest your feet.”
I flashed a grateful smile. “Thanks, Ry.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the best. I know.” He waved a hand and strolled to the kitchen in his familiar, loose-legged gait.
“You really are,” I called out, because he was the best. Ryan had been there for me through pretty much everything, including a string of failed relationships and single motherhood.
Ryan returned with a bottle of chilled tequila and two double shot glasses. “Are you buttering me up for something, or is this tipsy, I-love-everyone Persephone?”
I shrugged and leaned back on the sofa, feeling good. Relaxed. Happy that I got to spend an evening in a new dress with my best friend. “Probably the latter, but it’s the truth, Ryan. You are the best. The absolute best.”
Something flared in his blue eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came, intriguing me. A smile flashed across his handsome face as he handed me a full glass of tequila. “To being the absolute best.”
“I’ll drink to that.” The tequila, an expensive birthday gift from my friend and hospital administrator, Suzie Wright, slid down my throat with an icy burn. Moments later, the warmth spread throughout my body. “I’ll have to make a note to thank Suzie again for the tequila.”
Ryan smacked his lips. “It’s damn good. Best I ever had.”
“I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”
His lips spread into a fake smile that I didn’t quite understand, but my mind was just fuzzy enough to write it off for later.
“What girls? No one is lining up to date a man with grease under his nails who spends his days under the hood of an old car.”
I snorted in disbelief. “That’s bull, Ry, and you damn well know it.” I took him in again, this time with a critical, if tipsy, eye. He wasn’t just good looking. No, with curly blond hair that he only cut about twice a year and clear sapphire-blue eyes, he was gorgeous. Add in plump pink lips, a dimple in his right cheek, and the lean muscles that covered every inch of his usually coverall-covered body, and he was hot. “You run your own business, you’re hot as hell, and you are the sweetest man in the whole world. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”
“Aw, shucks,” he said sarcastically and sent a sexy wink my way. “You’re gonna make me blush.”
I rolled my eyes at his put-on accent. “You already are blushing.” I pointed at the telltale pink creeping up from his loosened bowtie and coloring his neck and cheeks.
“Am not,” he insisted and stuck out his tongue at me before he handed me another shot.
“We need limes,” I said abruptly and stood. My kitchen was spacious but still cluttered, with a giant butcher block table in the center and marble counters around the perimeter of two walls with a mosaic backsplash I’d let my son Titus pick out last year. The kitchen was the hub of my home, like most homes, even though I wasn’t much of a cook.
“Limes won’t magically appear on the table just because you want them to, Persephone.” Ryan’s voice sounded right behind me, and I turned to face him with a startled gasp. “Who else would be here?” He gave an amused shake of his head.
“I don’t know,” I growled and smacked his midsection. “Why in the hell do you need so many muscles to work on cars? It’s not like you lift them by hand.”
He let out a loud bark of laughter and shook his head. “Cranky?”
“No, annoyed.” Why did he have to be so good looking, and why was I noticing all of a sudden when I hadn’t thought about how hot he was since junior year in high school when he’d turned into a man seemingly overnight.
“Why?” Ryan gripped my shoulders with a soft smile that showed off that dimple that shouldn’t work with his rugged features, but it did. It really did. Dammit.
“Because.” There was no smart way to answer that question that wouldn’t open a can of worms. Big, fat, flammable worms that would tear our friendship—hell, our world—to bits. “Just because, okay?”
“That’s not an answer.”
He was right. What was wrong with me tonight? “Limes. I came in here for limes.”
“Right here.” He held up the bag of limes with a knowing smile. “Grab a knife.”
“You’re bossy.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” It was the honest-to-goodness truth. “I kind of like it.”
Heat flared in Ryan’s eyes, the same heat that I felt rushing through my veins, making my blood boil in the most delicious way. I didn’t know who moved first, him or me, but somewhere in the three feet of space that kept us apart, we came together. Arms wrapped tightly around each other, eyes connected in a fiery gaze, we kissed. He might have kissed me, or I might have kissed him first—I couldn’t be sure, because the moment our lips touched, it was like a fire had been set in my belly, lit with all kinds of accelerants. Like a love pyromaniac had set this all up.
His lips were even softer than they looked, his tongue strong and capable and demanding. His hands rested low on my waist, just where the back scoop of my dress ended so his fingertips brushed my bare skin. The kiss was hotter than it should have been, considering we were lifelong friends who knew each other’s darkest secrets. There was a lifetime of farts, bad dates and other embarrassing moments between us.
But this kiss, it was as hot as a midnight kiss between two strangers. Strangers who had been dancing around each other for many nights, many weeks. I sucked in a breath at the overwhelming sensation running through me and Ryan pressed his body against mine, letting me feel the long, hard ridge of his arousal between us.
I pulled back quickly, fingertips reluctantly leaving his hard body to brush against my lips. “Ryan, what are we doing?”
“Kissing. It really has been a long time.” His voice was full of wonder and his fingers brushed against his lips, too, making me wonder if they tingled the way mine did. “That was… wow.”
“Right?” I didn’t want to agree, but I had to. It was exactly what a kiss was meant to be—a precursor to fun, erotic things to come. “It was amazing, but it can’t happen again. It shouldn’t have happened.”
He shrugged. “Agree to disagree.”
“Limes.” I stared at Ryan, my eyes pleading, begging him to drop this subject. To forget that kiss ever happened.
Eventually, the tension fled his broad shoulders, and he nodded. “I’ve got limes. You grab the knife.”
I nodded absently and turned to grab the small ceramic knife I let Titus use to give him a feeling of independence. When I made my way back to the living room, Ryan had just finished off a shot. “Drinking without me?”
“You want me to forget that kiss, that’s what I’m doing.” He poured another, shaking his head the whole time.
“It was a great kiss,” I conceded and handed him the knife. “But you mean the world to me, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”
“You won’t. Not ever, so don’t even fucking think it.” His words were fierce and sincere.
“You don’t know that. Remember my long and illustrious relationship history? Love and me, we’re a disaster.”
“You’re beautiful and you know it.”
I shook my head. “I’m not beautiful, and even if I was, it’s not helping me find a decent man, is it? Nope.” I dropped down beside him on the sofa and picked up my glass before I reached for a lime wedge. It was cold and juicy as I bit into it, the tart liquid the perfect chaser for the tequila. “Beauty is irrelevant, Ryan. It’s easy to catch a man’s attention. Any man.”
“But you’re not just beautiful, Persephone. You’re smart and funny and kind. Any man in his right mind would catch you, keep you, and never let you go.” The words came out on a growl that hit me right smack between the legs and I let out a sharp gasp.
“Ryan...”
“Persephone,” he growled again and wrapped an arm around my waist, yanked me onto his lap, and slammed his mouth against mine again before I could protest, not that I wanted to. What woman could resist being in the strong arms of a sexy man, a sweet man, a kind and giving man?
This kiss was just as hot as the first, but it was slower, a low burn of fire that started at my toes, working its way up by degrees until I was on fire. Everywhere.
Ryan’s hands were everywhere, too, his mouth fixed to mine, still growling as I let my hands explore his wide shoulders and his taut waist—and when my hands slid under his tuxedo shirt, he pulled me closer and deepened the kiss. My hips began to move, back and forth, up and down the hard length of him.
“Ryan.” I pulled back with a moan and stared at the dark heat swimming in his blue eyes, suddenly unsure of what I wanted to say. So I said nothing, and this time I attacked his mouth.
Things moved quickly. Somehow, his nimble fingers had found the hidden zipper of my dress and tugged on it so slowly I shivered in his arms. He let out a low chuckle as if he knew exactly what he was doing.
“So fucking beautiful.”
I felt beautiful when he said it, but too much more talking and I might lose my nerve. I kissed him again, kissed him for so long that I had to pull back to finally gasp in a breath. I was breathing in short and choppy pants, and I blinked at the sight of Ryan shirtless, golden muscles on full display.
“Did I do that?”
He nodded and with a flick of his wrist, the halter top of my dress fell open, revealing my breasts to Ryan. His mouth was on me instantly and I forgot that he was my best friend. Hell, I forgot my name as his tongue curled around a nipple while one of his hands massaged and kneaded my other breast.
My head fell back on a moan and I ground against him, lost to the moment. The night was hazy from too much champagne and tequila, but I knew exactly what I was doing and with whom; I wanted this more than I realized. Ryan’s mouth kissed my breasts, my collarbone, and every other inch of exposed skin until I trembled with need in his arms. “Ryan. Please.”
And that was all it took for my best friend and me to cross the line. Deep down, I felt fear and apprehension take root, but when he flipped me on my back and slid inside, right there on my living room sofa, all I could feel was pleasure. Deep and intense pleasure that made my body vibrate with need. With anticipation.
He was long and thick, impressively so, and I was lost in the blue depths that refused to look away from me. I felt caught in his grip, in the waves of pleasure that crashed over me for several long moments. Even after Ryan froze and shuddered and spilled into me, I still fell apart for what felt like forever.
It was amazing.
Incredible.
Unbelievable.
I fell asleep in his arms, naked on the sofa with a smile on my face. “That was fantastic,” I muttered as I drifted off to sleep.
Too bad it can’t happen again.
