Turning the Tide (Eastern Shore Swingers, #5) Read online

  Celibacy goes deeper than the flesh. ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

  Frustration drove him out of bed and into his car. Then it drove him right down the highway to Berlin and into his reserved space at the complex where his medical practice was located. Despite his best efforts, Luke had never been able to get any relief from the relentless erection that had plagued him since he was at the club the previous night.

  Connie had locked eyes with him and continued the other way with her sister; she didn’t even smile at him, though she clearly saw him. Luke was left wondering what she had been doing in that room. The thought made him ache even more than the scene that was still playing out in front of him did. It was at that point he decided to slip out of the club for the night. He’d had enough. He didn’t think his body could take any more. And if he was invited to play with Bry and Tam, he couldn’t imagine having an audience of that many people watching him make a fool out of himself during his first sexual escapade in a decade. He’d probably come before he even got his dick inside her.

  That’s what he’d been thinking about when he pulled in his garage and taken Alfie for an abbreviated evening walk so the poor dog could do his business before Luke crawled into bed to relieve his misery. He had shut his door so Alfie couldn’t interrupt, pulled back his comforter and slid between the cool, crisp sheets. His erection had waned during the walk with the dog, but as soon as he brought to mind the vision in the playroom at the club, it was back, strong and hard as ever.

  Only instead of Tam’s tear-streaked face, it was Connie’s. And it wasn’t tear-streaked. Her sultry blue gaze was missile-locked with his as he commanded her to service his cock. Just that thought alone tightened his balls as he stroked his fist up and down his shaft. He was trying to go slowly, savor the images as they painted themselves on his eyelids, so vivid and real that he could almost smell her desire, taste her need.

  Ten minutes later, he was still stroking, right on the edge of his climax but no matter where he let his mind wander, there was no relief. His shaft nearly felt raw from all the friction. He thought about trying to find some lube or something to act as a reasonable substitute, but he was so tired. He promised he’d try again in the morning.

  And so he did. He found some of Barbara’s lotion in her bathroom and coated his cock with it. He once again conjured up the visions he’d entertained the night before. It wasn’t long before his thighs were clenching and his toes were curling as he tight-roped along the edge of the cliff just waiting to fall off.

  But after several minutes, he realized it wasn’t going to happen.

  Though Alfie was rather transparent about his disappointment that he wasn’t invited to ride along, Luke knew he needed some time out of the house to get his head screwed back on straight. He’d gotten a text from Barbara that read: You didn’t even text me goodnight last night. You really don’t give a shit about me, do you?

  Between that and his aching balls, he was sure immersing himself in some reading at work would transport him to the exciting world of ears, noses and throats...far away from BDSM and swing clubs and nagging wives and nurses he couldn’t have no matter how much he wanted them. He was behind in his journal subscriptions, anyway. He would lock himself in his office and read the latest peer-reviewed studies in The American Journal of Otolaryngology, or if he was feeling particularly wild and crazy, maybe he’d crack open this season’s issue of the Journal of Cranio-Maxillofacial Surgery. Maybe after getting caught up, he’d grab a burger and even bring one home to Alfie.

  He opened his online subscription and pulled his laptop onto his thighs so he could lean back in his leather executive chair. He tried to sink his teeth into an article about Vitamin D deficiency and its relationship to chronic sinusitis, but he found his mind wandering. Then he saw an advertisement for the upcoming annual meeting for his professional association in New Orleans.

  New Orleans, he thought. He hadn’t been there in years. The conference wasn’t until September, but he decided to go ahead and take advantage of the early bird registration prices on the association’s website. He clicked away, proud of himself for not thinking about anything but work for a whole ten minutes. He entered his name, address, email, and his member number. Then he pulled his travel rewards credit card out of his wallet and entered the number.

  A pop-up alerted him that his card had been declined.

  “What?!” he uttered out loud when he saw it. He had the bill set to auto-pay and he hadn’t used it in months, so he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t able to make a $295 charge.

  He pulled up the online account for the credit card and began to scroll through the charges.

  They didn’t make any sense at all.

  There were eleven cash advances, each for $500.

  What the fuck? he wondered. No one else had a card but him. The damn card info must have been stolen online or something. He picked up his office phone and began to call the 1-800 number for the credit card company when he heard a door shut down the hall.

  I locked the door, he assured himself as the blood in his veins instantly froze. He put the phone back down on the receiver and perked his ears. Even though he was met with silence, the hairs on his arms were standing on end. Something didn’t feel right. This day kept getting weirder and weirder.

  He lifted himself from his executive chair and started for his door. He heard a commotion in the supply room next to his office and froze again. He reached back to grab his cell phone off his desk and pre-dialed 9-1-1 on it before slowing twisting the knob on his office door. His heart pounding, he held the phone to his side as he made his way next door.

  The supply room door was open. He was sure it had been closed when he’d arrived. It was a large room with tall metal shelves that almost reached the ceiling and each one was piled with equipment, plus medical, office, and janitorial supplies. They probably had a year’s worth of toilet paper on one of the metal racks. He heard the squeak of a shoe against the laminate wood floor and clutched his phone tighter. He just wanted to get a look at the intruder so he could rush out of the office as fast as he could to call the police. Now he was really regretting his decision not to bring Alfie with him. He might be a big softie, but he could muster up a menacing bark when he wanted to.

  “Luke?”

  He heard the soft voice before he saw her face.

  It was Connie.

  His heart was beating so fast at this point, it nearly exploded right out of his chest. He was surprised he wasn’t flat on the floor needing Connie to resuscitate him. Then he wished he were in that exact position.

  He was finally able to force a sound out of his throat, which was suddenly so dry he felt like he was trekking through the desert. Meanwhile, a little smile was twisting Connie’s lips. She wasn’t at all shocked to see him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Beverly gave me a key. I wanted to come in and familiarize myself with some things while no one was around. You know, try to get my bearings before I’m turned loose on my own next week.” She flashed an innocent grin. “Sorry, I knew someone was here because of the car parked in the doctor’s reserved space, but I didn’t know if it was you or Jim, and I didn’t want to interrupt you—or scare you by just popping up.”

  “What was the noise earlier?” He noticed his lungs were still visibly moving his chest with each breath.

  “I couldn’t get the door open. It was stuck. Sorry about that!”

  He tried to suppress a smile but found himself unable to do so. Oh, and his erection had made a glorious comeback as well. Great. “It’s okay. I was just trying to catch up on my reading this week. It’s, uh—”

  “It’s been busy,” she finished the sentence for him.

  She was dressed casually in jeans and a lightweight hooded sweatshirt. There was nothing sexy or alluring about her outfit, yet he wanted her all the same. She looked so beautiful with her blonde hair gently wisping around her chin. Why oh why did she have to be so off lim
its?

  “But not too busy for you to go back to the club last night,” she pointed out.

  He was shocked by her boldness. Maybe it was one of many reasons he was drawn to her. She spoke her mind without hesitation. Maybe that’s what happens when you get to be fifty-nine, he theorized. You get tired of taking shit from anyone. He wished he could get to that point in his own life. Eleven more years to go.

  His eyes swept up and down her body. He still had a hard time believing she was fifty-nine. Women of that age weren’t supposed to be so...sexy. At least that’s the message he’d heard loud and clear his entire life.

  “No response for that?” she pushed, crossing her arms in front of her chest just like he’d seen her sister do the night before when he was trying to explain his situation. That gesture must run in the family.

  He wanted to fist her hair and pull her over his knee, land a hard spank on her plush rear to see if that would wipe that snarky smirk off her face.

  Holy shit, where did that come from?

  “I thought I’d try again.” He was able to make his reply sound confident, even though he felt anything but at the moment. “You know, fall off the horse and get right back on.”

  “Is that what happened with us?” Only one side of her lips curled up as she studied him, her blue eyes meeting his dark ones. “Am I the horse in this metaphor?”

  He wanted to reach out, grab her shirttails and pull her to his body. He wanted to push her up against the wall and devour her lips, her neck, her breasts. “Do you want to be?”

  DO YOU WANT TO BE? a voice inside his head was screaming. Where the hell did that come from?

  Now both sides of her mouth were getting in on the smiling action. She seemed pleased by his response, intrigued even. “Casey told me about your conversation last night before I got there.”

  A bolt of panic shot through him. “She did?”

  “Yep.” She uncrossed her arms and stepped toward him. “I have to say...I’m curious...”

  “Curious about?”

  “Curious about why you and your wife don’t...you know...” She lifted her chin as though that would finish the sentence for her.

  “It’s a long story, like I told your sister. I am not sure you’d think any more highly of me after I told you.”

  “Why don’t you try me?” she dared him. She bit her bottom lip and trained her gaze on him.

  He considered her challenging stare, trying to find that professional side of him that kept his personal life completely separate from his work. Why did she seem to make that side of him fly out the window? He wouldn’t divorce his wife for fear of ruining his career, but all Connie would have to do is make the first move, and he’d put everything in jeopardy to feel his lips on hers again. Why was she making this so damn hard?

  Literally

  and

  figuratively.

  “Not here,” he said. “You really want to know? I’ll tell you, but not here. Not in my workplace. And your workplace.”

  She had a triumphant look on her face just from his concession. “My place?”

  His eyes nearly bugged out of his face. She was inviting him over? That didn’t bode well for his ability to maintain a professional stance.

  “Well, we can’t go to your house, I assume,” she elaborated. “And how good of an idea is it for us to be seen in public together?”

  “I have the house to myself this weekend, but, yeah, you’re right...” He paused there, waiting to see if she was really going to invite him over.

  “Alright. I just moved into my apartment, and it’s tiny and a bit cluttered at the moment, but it’s quiet, and we can talk.” The way she said it made it seem like this was happening as friends. Like she understood he needed someone to talk to.

  He couldn’t actually hope for anything more than that. Just being able to tell his story to someone other than Cap, who really hadn’t even heard the whole thing, sounded like getting a one-on-one session with Dr. Phil or something. He smiled. “Are you sure?”

  She glanced up at him, that innocent look returning to her eyes. “I’m going to be honest with you, Luke...”

  He fixed his gaze on her and waited to see what this honesty entailed while his heart rate picked up speed. It felt like a helicopter in his chest about to lift off and fly away.

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we kissed last week.” She let the words fall, exploding like invisible fireworks in the air above them, somewhere near the supply room’s ceiling. They were no less magical than if they’d been real, and he was too stunned to speak.

  She cleared her throat and smiled again as if she enjoyed rendering him speechless. Then her smile faded as a sharpness returned to her voice. “I was pretty pissed off when I found out you’re married. But I know Cap invited you to the club, and my sister has known Cap for a really long time and thinks the world of him. Cap wouldn’t have invited you if he didn’t think you should be there. And I have to admit, I really want to know why he feels that way.”

  “Okay,” was all he could manage.

  “Not to say it will change my mind about anything,” she warned him. “But if we have to work together, we need to come to some sort of understanding. And I need to be able to put that kiss behind me—or I’ll be forced to find another job.”

  “I hope you don’t have to do that.” He really did hope that. And not just because he wanted to fuck her brains out. He was pretty sure that feeling wasn’t going to go away no matter how their conversation today ended up.

  “Well, let’s just see how it goes, shall we?”

  Connie's apartment was much the way she described it: small and cluttered with unpacked boxes. But it was surprisingly close to his house on the north side of Ocean City, not far from Fenwick Island and the Delaware state line. Everything was bland and ivory-colored: the walls, her furnishings. It lacked the color he saw in her. He wondered if she was going to be happy there.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked as they made their way toward the living room. She paused at the tiny kitchen with a granite bar that divided it from the living area.

  “Oh, sure, whatever is fine.” He smiled at her a little stiffly, then willed himself to relax. He was just about as effective at getting his body to relax as he was at talking his dick into chilling out earlier in the day.

  “Hard cider?” She raised an eyebrow at him, waiting to gauge his reaction, then smiled when he nodded. He heard the clunk of the refrigerator door open before she reappeared in the living area a few moments later.

  He had taken a seat on her beige loveseat, leaving it open-ended as to whether or not she wanted to sit beside him or across the room in the overstuffed chair with a matching ottoman. To his dismay, she chose the chair. He reiterated to his blue balls that he’d been friend-zoned. At least it’s a step above boss zone, he consoled himself.

  “How are you liking Maryland so far?” he asked as he popped the lid off the cider. He took a swig as her lips pursed.

  “I’m from Maryland originally,” she reminded him.

  “Right, sorry.” He remembered from their conversation the first night at The Factory.

  “We’re here to talk about you, anyway.” She’d already finished half of her cider before setting the bottle on the glass-topped table beside her. “So, spill it. Why are you cheating on your wife?”

  Once again, he was so taken aback by her brazen question that if he hadn’t swallowed his last sip of cider, he’d probably have sprayed it all over her carpet and loveseat. “First off, I haven’t cheated on her...” He pulled his leg up so he could rest his ankle on his knee. “Not yet.”

  “Except our dance and kiss.”

  “Well, yes. But I haven’t had sex with anyone.” He didn’t mean to sound defensive, but it came out that way.

  “Not for ten years,” Connie said, giving him a smug smile. “I guess that means you qualify for sainthood, right?”

  He was surprised her tone was so
sarcastic, judgmental. He didn’t realize she was going to make him feel like he was two feet tall. Why did I even come over here? he wondered. If I wanted to be yelled at, I could just hang out with my wife.

  The perturbed look twisting her features faded as she watched his face fall. “I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know if Casey told you, but my husband—now ex-husband—cheated on me. That’s why we got divorced. He was a smarmy two-faced politician—a real slimeball—and he didn’t have the excuse that we weren’t having sex. So I’m sorry for projecting that onto you. I’ll try to listen with an open mind, okay?”

  He nodded. It made him angry that she had gone through such an ordeal, that a man had betrayed her trust. Especially a man she demonstrably loved and supported. Being a politician’s wife was probably no easy feat. And he already knew they had children together. He wondered how old they had been when the divorce happened. He had never wanted his children to suffer through their parents’ divorce.

  He cleared his throat, settled into the loveseat, and placed his arm on the wide armrest as if to brace himself for a wild ride. “So, it started about ten years ago when Barbara began to have some nerve issues. We thought she had a pinched nerve in her back, sciatica or something. She was in pain, and they ran all sorts of tests. But the pain sort of came and went, and we couldn’t nail down anything—we only ruled stuff out. Since that time she’s seen neurologists, gynecologists, urologists, pain management doctors, endocrinologists, infectious disease specialists, oncologists—basically anyone who deals with issues below the neck. Obviously stuff not in my wheelhouse.” He let out a little amused chuckle.

  She had taken a few more sips of her cider while he spoke, but when he laughed, she returned the bottle to the coaster beside her. “So...is there a diagnosis?”

  His chest rose and fell with a few breaths before he opened his mouth to answer. “Not anything definitive. We’ve ruled out MS, ALS, Parkinson’s, Huntington’s, cancer...” He shifted his gaze from off in the distance back to Connie. “She’s a bit of a medical mystery, to tell you the truth. And, being a doctor myself, it’s been beyond frustrating that I can’t do anything for her. I mean, despite our relationship having gone to pot, I don’t like to see her in pain.”