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From: "Wine Maker" <wine_maker@eknifeshop.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Playing Doctor Chapter 7 (MF, Slow, Romantic Mystery)
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Date: Mon, 17 Jul 2006 06:10:01 -0400
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Author's note:

All,

The nominating period for the July, 2006 silver Clitorides is now open
till August 7th. I, of course, urge those that like my work to nominate
this story and will shamelessly use it as an example.  Please go to the
following site to nominate any story you like that was finished in July
of 2006.

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Clitorides/www/SCA_Current.htm#nom

or if the form fails, vote via email to: silver-clt@hotmail.com

with a subject of: Silver Clitorides Awards Nomination for July, 2006.

Please include the following information for your vote:

Wine Maker
Playing Doctor
http://storiesonline.net/story/48677

Or, if the form isn't working, send an email to:

silver-clt@hotmail.com

With a subject of:

Silver Clitorides Award Nomination for July, 2006

And include this in the body:

Wine Maker
Playing Doctor
http://storiesonline.net/story/48677

Thanks!

Wine

-----

Sandy Craig is a busy young woman. Her life is all about her work as a
reconstructive surgeon and medical partnership. She doesn't have time
for a personal life, much less love. Keven Braddock is a well-to-do
artist on the rise like the space shuttle. Women throw themselves at
him and life is his oyster, but something is missing. When they meet,
something in their lives change.

Now if only things would stop going wrong and getting in the way of
them finding happiness. This has a real plot and three dimensional
characters. It's more than just a wanker.

Read this story on several sites and vote on each for me. Voting for my
stories encourages me to write more. Remember to vote for each chapter
on Literotica and on the last chapter on Storiesonline.

http://storiesonline.net/auth/Wine_Maker

http://english.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=560253&page=submissions


Playing Doctor
(c) 2006 by Wine Maker

Chapter Seven: Tiger burning bright

We dried off and gathered our clothes in a euphoric cloud. I kept
sneaking peeks at Keven and I caught him eyeing me with a goofy grin on
more than one occasion.

Brazenly, I walked back to the house with my clothes in hand and a
towel across my shoulders. Keven was a gentleman and walked beside me,
rather than behind me. For the first time in my life, I was actually
disappointed that I wasn't being ogled. The conversation between us
was almost non-existent on a verbal level, but the body language was
speaking up loud and clear. We hadn't just crossed a barrier, we'd
pole-vaulted over it.

When we got to the house, I saved Keven from wondering where things
stood by selecting the guest room next to the master. "I'll take this
bedroom," I said, and I smiled at him and the slightly disappointed
expression my comment elicited. "Though I don't know how many nights
I'll sleep in it." That perked him up.

Keven pulled me into a gentle embrace and whispered in my ear. "I'm
happy we've moved to this level in our relationship, but..." He
seemed to be choosing his words with care. "I don't want you to
feel like you have to sleep in my bed. In fact, I don't want you
there unless you want to be there. I do hope, though that you do."

I looked into those dark eyes of his. I couldn't tell him how much
those words meant to me, so I opted to lessen the emotional level
before I was bawling my eyes out - or maybe me balling him till his
eyes fell out. "It's good you're not taking me for granted already," I
said with a mischievous smile. I touched his cheek briefly. "We'll talk
after we shower and change. You owe me dinner."

Closing the door behind me, I set my dirty clothes in a chair and
kicked off my shoes. Then I slipped into the large shower stall,
cranked the heated water up till steam was everywhere and groaned as my
body thanked me.


Half an hour later I was down in the kitchen, dressed in new jeans and
a teal blouse. With bare feet, I padded up behind Keven and gave him a
drive-by kiss before he knew I was even there.

"I'm thirsty," I announced. "What's to drink around this place?"

"Water, tea, beer and wine," he replied. "What do you want?"

"Tea, for now. Maybe a glass of wine with dinner." I opened the
refrigerator and found the tea on a lower shelf. "What's for dinner, oh
mighty hunter?"

"Chicken Alfredo," he said while taking in my posterior. I grinned at
him and poured us each a glass of tea. "What sparked that," he asked
when I handed it to him.

"You looked thirsty."

Keven laughed. "That's not what I meant. I was talking about the pier.
I thought you wanted to take things slow."

"Well, that's not exactly right," I said, taking a seat at the table.
"I was feeling like things were rushing along, beyond my control. So, I
decided to give in to temptation, take something I wanted anyway, and
take control at the same time. Are you complaining?"

He held out a hand in denial. "No complaints here. I was surprised, but
I guess that's what you wanted. Making love to you was a life-altering
experience."

"We were both hungry for each other and that took the edge off our
lust. Now that we aren't spending so much time wondering how good it
will be, we can take our time to do this right. For example," I said
putting some heat into my smile, "I hope tonight is slow and romantic.
Not that I mind fast and furious, but it's been a long time for me and
I want it all."

"I think we can manage that." He started draining the noodles. "Was it
the same for you - the hunger?"

I nodded. "I don't know what it is, but I feel like I've known you all
my life, and it's like an empty place is filled when you're around." I
laughed at his grin. "Not that empty place, Stud. Not everything is
sex, sex, sex. I mean emotionally."

That didn't dim his grin at all. He poured the sauce over the chicken
and noodles and set my plate in front of me. "I know, but all men are
pigs; even emotionally everything is sex, sex, sex." He exchanged the
grin for a gentle smile. "Honestly, I feel the same way. From the
moment I saw you, I not only wanted your body but I wanted your heart."

Again I felt the emotion for this man well up inside of me. Again, I
couldn't meet it head on. "You know the path to a woman's heart," I
said instead, taking a scrumptious bite of the tender chicken. "Right
through her stomach. This is wonderful!" One of my pesky inner voices
chided me for my cowardice, pointing out I would have to face the
emotions at some point.

Keven laughed and shook his head. "I thought that was a man's line. And
as a doctor, you know the shortest path to a woman's heart is through
her rib cage."

"True," I admitted, "except that I mean the emotional heart, not the
physical one. And I'm being facetious anyway. The food is wonderful,
but the emotional connection is much, much better." Maybe it was time
to face it now, I thought. I looked out the window to gather my
thoughts and froze with my fork partway to my mouth. The sun was just
setting behind the curve of the central mountain peak and the ice was
lit up with red. At that moment, I knew I was in love. Admittedly, I
was in love with his house and not Keven, not yet, but it was a start.

"It's unbeatable," he said after the sun had set, plunging the valley
into a kind of twilight; hours before dark back home. "I sometimes live
out here almost full-time. Though I can't anymore."

Forcing my eyes away from the spectacle outside, I looked at him
questioningly. "Why not?"

"Because my girlfriend, my emotional touchstone, is a very successful
doctor who can't live this far away from her patients, and besides, she
makes the beauty of this place pale in comparison anyway."

That unexpected comment slid through any of my remaining reservations
like a scalpel. With a happy cry, I jumped up and kissed him soundly.
He, of course, was caught completely off-guard. Men. They never saw it
coming, although Keven saw my few tears. His expression went from
bewildered to thoughtful, but he had the presence of mind, at least, to
hug and kiss me back.

When I sat back down and dug back into my food, I kept sending him
glances that would tell a perceptive man that he had cleared the last
hurdle. Maybe Keven would interpret them correctly, maybe not, but he
had become my boyfriend in my heart as well as in my brain with that
one sentence.

I still didn't have time in my career for a relationship, but tough
shit. I was having one anyway, and the doctor would just have to make
room. I was so happy that even all the other troubles were sliding out
of my mind. I couldn't do anything about them anyway.

We finished our dinner, chatting about inconsequential things. I
insisted on doing the dishes and he didn't argue. When the kitchen was
ship-shape, I tracked him down in the living room. "What would you like
to do now?"

Keven smiled lazily. "I should think that would be perfectly obvious."
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. "After an afternoon of wild,
unexpected sex there can only be one suitable follow-up."

I smiled knowingly and he nodded. "That's right, I want to start
painting you."

I swatted him in mock outrage. "Painting?!? You don't want to throw me
over your shoulder and carry me off like a caveman would take his
woman?"

He grinned undeterred. "I can't do both?"

"Funny man," I laughed. "Okay, what do you want to paint that you can
actually display somewhere?"

Stepping back, he took his chin in his hand and considered me
thoughtfully. "I think a nude of you rising out of the water, climbing
the ladder on the pier with the water running off your body."

I shivered at the memory of that ladder and immediately felt myself
moistening. "Okay. How do we do this? It's a bit dark to go down to the
lake."

"Here's a little painting secret. I can start with the centerpiece,
you, and then add in the background at a later time." He gestured to
the stairs. "Let's go up and paint a red-haired goddess. Then we'll see
what happens next. Actually, you head on up and I'll be right there
after I change into my painting togs."

"You have special painting clothes?" I asked. "Are they as weird as
some golfing outfits? Do they come with a goofy hat?"

Keven laughed and shooed me up the stairs. "You'll find out in good
time. Why don't you get yourself comfortable, and I'll just be a
minute?"

Right then, my cell phone rang in my purse on the table. I fished it
out and looked at the number. It wasn't one I recognized.

"Hello?"

"Miss Craig? This is Detective Williams. I have some good news for
you," he said. My heart started thudding in my chest. "We picked up the
man that was harassing the two of you."

"You've got him already? That's wonderful!" I gushed. "Thank God! So,
it's safe to come back?"

"He isn't talking, and he seems to be working alone so I think it is
safe enough for you to come back," he confirmed.

I looked over at Keven and he was frowning and shaking his head. "Hang
on, Detective. What, Keven?"

He adroitly snatched my phone from my hand and held it up to his face.
"Detective?" he asked smoothly. "Keven Braddock here. Just to be safe,
I think we should stay here a few more days, possibly a week longer.
Don't you think that would be prudent?" He waggled his eyebrows at me
and I rolled my eyes. "I'm glad you agree. If there's any other
breaking news, please give us a call. Thank you."

He hung up the phone and tossed it back to me with a grin. "Safety
first. Oh, crap," he said, snapping his fingers. "I forgot."

He pulled me into the living room and pointed above the fireplace.
There was a display of horns and a shotgun. "That's loaded and ready to
fire. If something were to need shooting, just pull it down, press the
button beside the trigger in and then it becomes a 'point and click
interface.' Point it at whatever needs shooting and interface." He
grinned at me.

"I don't like guns," I said with a theatrical shudder. "If something
needs shooting, you can take care of it. Wait, you mean like snakes?
Are there snakes out here?"

He nodded. "Yes, but they won't trouble us. I was more concerned with
the human kind of snake."

"Thank God we don't have to worry about that," I said with relief. "And
about staying out here, I don't know about a week. Maybe a couple of
days."

"We'll talk about that tomorrow. Just be happy that it's over. Now
let's go do some painting," he said with a note of assurance in his
voice. It would be interesting to see who got their way on how long we
stayed out here.

I showed him my dimples and headed up the stairs and into the studio.
The massive windows showed the land outside in a deepening twilight
that was turning into night. The quarter moon lit the ground in an
ethereal, silver light. The lake shimmered like something from a fairy
tale. It was so romantic.

Undressing slowly, I folded my clothes and set them on a handy chair.
The warm air of the studio relaxed me, but I still felt vulnerable with
all my clothes off.

Keven came in carrying a covered canvas that he put on a stand by the
door. He looked like he hadn't changed yet.

"I thought you were going to get into your painting gear." I fought the
urge to drape my arms across my breasts. I shouldn't feel so
self-conscious after we'd made love, but it felt really odd to be
totally naked while he was fully dressed.

"I fibbed," he said with a grin. "I actually went down to your car to
get something."

"What?" I asked, stepping next to him.

"A present for you." He pulled the cover off with a flourish.

My breath froze in my throat and my hands flew to my mouth. The racing
children! He had saved it! Then it hit me. He said it was a present for
me.

With a squeal, I crushed him in my arms, jumping up and down like a
mad-woman. "You planned this all along? Ohmigod! I love you! Thank you!
Thank you!" Then I froze. "Waitaminute! It's worth thousands of
dollars! I can't accept a gift like that!"

He kissed my forehead softly. "Of course you can. From the moment you
said you wanted it, it was yours. I can't deny you anything." Then he
looked deeply into my eyes. "Do you?"

"Do I what?" I asked, comfortable in his arms.

"Love me. I realized that I loved you that first night, you know."

Had I said that? I ran my mind back over the last few moments and
realized I had said it, in a moment of unguarded enthusiasm. Did I mean
it like that?

"I suppose that I do mean it, though I don't know how deeply it's going
to go yet." I looked deep into his eyes and kissed him. "And I don't
know that I won't fall so head over heels for you that my life will
never be the same, either. I guess we'll figure that out as we go."

"I like that idea. Maybe we should put off painting for tonight," he
whispered, sending a thrill up my spine.

I was about to nod my agreement when a flash of light outside diverted
my attention. There was something moving out there with a white light.

Keven turned with me toward the lake. "What in the..."

It looked like a car driving down to the lake, but that wasn't
possible. We were all alone out here. No, it was a car. "Someone's out
here," I said quietly. "Who could it be? And I didn't think the path
was wide enough for a car."

"It's not," Keven said, the tension in his voice as sudden as the
arrival of the car. "See how it's coming in from the left? There aren't
any trees over there, so it's a straight shot to the lake. That's how
the workers that put in the pier went down."

As we spoke the car careened down the hill. It was obvious that it was
accelerating way too fast to be safe. It was hard to see clearly, but
it looked almost uncontrolled. Squinting, I tried to see what the shape
of the car was, because it looked familiar. Right as it hit the pier
and splashed into the water I realized what was so familiar about it.

"That's my car!" I screamed. I started for the door, trying to figure
out what was going on, but Keven grabbed me by the arm.

"No, stay here." His eyes, so warm and loving were cold and hard now.
"Someone did that, and they may be in the house. I'm going to get the
shotgun. Stay here."

My heart was in my throat and I felt frozen where I stood. I had to do
something. I couldn't just stand here and let Keven go get himself
killed. Forcing my feet, I started out the door and into the upstairs
hall. It was so open, how could anyone expect to sneak up on us? As if
on cue, the lights went out, plunging the house into darkness. Great.
Shut up, Sandy. Stop giving the bad guys ideas.

With one hand on the wall, I found the stairs without falling to my
death. I was about to start downstairs when I heard a crash that
sounded like someone had dropped a silverware drawer and lots of metal
bouncing around.

I froze, waiting to hear something else. Anything else. Silence. Like a
tomb. Jesus, Sandy! Shut up!

Taking a deep breath, I descended to the bottom of the steps and turned
toward the kitchen. The light of the moon filled the room with shadow
and dim light. Small glittering things were scattered all over the
floor and the shotgun lay beside the glass door leading out to the
patio. Just outside the door on the patio itself was a sprawled figure.

"Keven!" I screamed, running to his side, almost falling on scattered
silverware. A fork jabbed me painfully in the foot but I ignored it. I
grabbed his head and turned him over onto his back. His hair was matted
in hot blood.

I was ready to freak out completely when I forced myself to take a deep
breath. Panic wasn't the answer. Time to be like Danny; just put it
aside and deal with the crisis. I could panic later if I wanted to.
Bending over, I put my ear to his lips and heard him breathing. He was
alive, thank God!

"Isn't that just so fucking sweet?" a cold, female voice asked from
outside. I felt like I was back at the lake with cold water suddenly
splattering my naked torso. Then the smell hit me. Gasoline.

I grabbed the shotgun and brought it to my shoulder, backing up till
the railing touched my ass. Karen stepped out of dark shadow and hefted
what looked like a half-full whiskey bottle.

With a nasty laugh, she upended it and poured it all over Keven. "You
should never have taken what was mine, bitch," she continued in that
cold, totally insane voice. "You'll both burn in hell tonight." She
stepped back from Keven and pulled a cloth from her pocket, stuffing it
into the half-full bottle.

"Don't move," I told her, trying to hold the gun pointed at her even
though my trembling arms made it swing almost in a figure eight.

Karen laughed again. "Even if you knew how to use that thing, which you
obviously don't, you won't shoot me. What is it that doctors swear? Do
no harm?" Digging into her pocket again, she pulled out a lighter.
"Time for you and Kevy-Boy to die."

I closed my eyes and jerked the trigger. Nothing happened. My eyes
popped open and I stared at the damned thing. It was broke! I held it
out and stared at it.

With a flick of her thumb, Karen lit the cloth on fire.

The safety! I'd forgotten the safety! Searching with my finger, I found
a button in front of the trigger and pushed it in with a sharp "click."
I forced the heavy gun back up to my shoulder and pointed it at Karen.
"Drop it! I'll shoot!"

With a sneer, she drew the bottle over her head to throw it at Keven
and I felt the calm inevitability of certainty. I jerked the trigger
and the shotgun went off.

Everything happened so fast. It was just a jumble of images and pain.
The gun kicked me in my shoulder like a sledgehammer wielded by John
Henry. Incredible pain exploded where it hit me and I stumbled back.

I had a momentary vision of a burning, screaming torch where Karen had
been standing, and that calm voice in the back of my mind told me I
must've hit the bottle. The next half moment, my ass hit the rail and I
flipped backwards off the patio.

In barely a moment I screamed and then I hit the ground. Or maybe it
would be more accurate to say the ground hit me. Hard. Even harder than
the shotgun. I heard a sickening snap as I landed on my left arm. Then
I really started screaming.

I wanted to throw up. I wanted to pass out. I wanted to do anything but
get up, but I didn't have a choice. I staggered to my feet, sparing my
left arm a look as cold adrenaline pumped into my bloodstream. Broken
forearm, that calm voice told me. It needed to be splinted, I was
advised.

Swallowing hard, I stumbled around the patio until I came to the
stairs. The screaming had stopped and now the horrible stench of burnt
meat filled my nostrils. Burnt pork, I thought almost laughing wildly.
"Bitch, the other white meat!" the voice in my head shouted. I was
going into shock and I didn't have time for this.

When I was able to pull myself up the stairs with my right hand, I
found things pretty much as I'd left them. Keven was still on the patio
by the door and bitch was spread out like a burning starfish on the
patio. I staggered well clear of her and idly wondered if those cheap
implants of hers would burn.

I stepped over Keven and fell down hard when a piece of silverware slid
under my foot. The pain almost made me pass out and I confess I
screamed like a little girl, cradling my left arm. I didn't want to get
up. The gasoline was making my skin burn, something had scratched the
hell out of my back when I fell off the patio and my arm hurt like a
stone-cold bitch. Too bad I didn't have the luxury of just giving up.

Forcing myself to my feet, I slid my bare feet on the floor, kicking
silverware all over the place with every step, I made may way to the
counter and found the fire extinguisher by the sink. Stumbling back
outside, I stepped over the now twitching and groaning Keven and tried
to figure out how to pull the stupid pin with one hand.

Grabbing the pin in my teeth, I pulled it out and spat. Then I squeezed
the handle and put the smoldering bitch out. There was nothing left but
a charred corpse. Without warning, my stomach revolted and I barely
made it to the rail before I vomited. The extinguisher fell to the
patio with a metal "thunk."

"Sandy?" Keven said weakly, struggling to his hands and knees. "Sandy!"

I staggered over and knelt beside him. "I was thinking this was the
best getaway ever, but I take it all back. You're going to have to do
much better than this if you want to keep getting lucky." The energy
was deserting me and it was so hard to move.

He pulled himself up and then pulled me up with him, taking in the
scene on the patio quietly. "I can't wait to find out what I missed."

I hissed when he touched my broken arm and he yanked his hand back.
"It's broken, and your ex is dead. Help me to the sink and call for
help."

Becoming ever more steady on his feet, Keven helped me inside, grabbed
my cell phone out of my purse and called 911. When he was done, he
helped me wash the gasoline off and sat me down in a kitchen chair. I
sat in the dark until he got the lights back on and came back. He had a
robe that I could cover myself with and I managed to get it on and sit
back down without falling over.

Keven's head was bloody and he looked like someone had hit him with a
silverware drawer. I'm sure we made quite the pair. He pulled out a
chair and sat heavily beside me. "I don't suppose I can have a
do-over?" he asked.

"Nope," I said with a scratchy laugh. "We don't do those. But I will
let you take me on a cruise when my arm heals."

"I suppose that's the least I can do for getting you into this mess,"
he agreed with a smile. He kissed my good hand softly. "I love you,
Sandy."

"Damned right. I love you." I said.

We'd be just fine after all.

The End

-- 
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