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Illicit affairs

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“We can’t keep doing this.” Claire said, hearing the lock click to his office door; she had already started unbuttoning her shirt.

“I know.” He said.

“It’s wrong.”

“Really?” The corners of Melendez’s lips curled, involuntarily -- and he fought back hard as his cheeks swelled momentarily with the pressure -- but it was no use. A chuckle escaped his lips as his eyes danced around her frame amused at her steadfast conviction.

“Melendez, this isn’t funny.”

“Who’s joking, Claire?”

Claire let her guard down for a moment and looked alarmed before her face returned blank, taking a step backward. They had agreed that the other night was a one-time thing. A fluke, really. So what if she could feel her heart pounding in her ears now, her pulse racing? He was engaged for God’s sake.

He was engaged, and not to just anyone. Jessica Preston was brilliant and beautiful and downright formidable not to mention the Vice President of Risk Management. She carried herself like a lighthouse as if only by her could they all find their way to shore.

Claire couldn’t compete with that.

She couldn’t always be right, she didn’t know the way, and she certainly shouldn’t be guiding anyone anywhere. Right now, for instance, she was struggling to find her bearings. The hospital albeit constantly full and lively was also lonely and exhausting and the Chief of Surgery was standing before her, applying that familiar weight of pressure to her shoulders. Not pressure to be his right hand, but to be his other woman. To be sexy and resilient and powerful in the ways Jessica was not.

Claire would have liked to have been satiated with their platonic friendship and partnership. She would have been overjoyed being able to find pleasure in knowing she and Melendez were a team, even if she wanted more. She made her choice dating Jared, and he made his by proposing Jessica.

Fuck choices, she wanted a do-over. If she could, she would do it all over with him instead of every other civilian that came into their lives. Jessica be damned. But Jessica didn’t deserve that, aside from having the one thing Claire wanted.

Claire would have liked to walk away from him. To say that no, it wasn’t appropriate. It was dangerous and pretty unethical. But, she couldn’t even if she tried. Somehow, looking at Melendez, her ironclad principles disappeared, logic flew haphazardly out the window, and she would give in.

Did everything she had to do be so damn logical, anyways? For once, couldn’t she just do this because it was fun and exhilarating and because it felt so good?

“You’re engaged.” She breathed out, one last plea, but a little frustrated. “I’m not about to be a convenient booty call when you’re bored and away from your fiancée.”

Melendez chuckled, rolling his eyes. It could never be easy with her. Oh no, nothing with Claire Browne would ever be easy.

“My fiancée? Dr. Browne, I think we both know that Ms. Preston has nothing to do with this. With us.”

She scoffed as his declaration. Of course, it did.

She could feel his breath linger on her neck as he stepped closer into her orbit. She refused to let that distract her from this moment. “Dr. Melendez, you proposed to her. She is your fiancée.” She exclaimed, bringing his right hand up to view for emphasis.

“Jessica is great, Claire. She’s a great friend, but you and I both know this,” he gestures at the space between them, “was always going to happen. It wasn’t the right time, but do we ever get the timing right? Screw it, Claire, just say screw it and give in.”


“Neil. I think it’s safe to say you can call me Neil, Claire.”

Claire swallowed a lump in her throat. “Neil. This isn’t a good idea.”

Neil closed the space between them, just slightly, and the only thing she could smell was him. “Tell me you didn’t have a good time last night, and the night before and the night before that. Tell me it didn’t feel good, and I’ll never ask again. Can you remember how I felt inside of you? How my hands felt on your body?”

No matter how much she fought it, Claire felt a shiver go through her body even though his office felt like a furnace since she had walked in. She could disagree, but her eyes would give away how badly she was lying.

Not only was Neil her boss, but he was also now the Chief of Surgery. She knew this was wrong on so many levels, but whenever she opened her mouth to say it, the words never seemed to leave her lips. If she was being honest with herself, ever since the fundraising gala where his ass was the star of a well-fitted tuxedo, she wanted to drag him into a nearby supply closet. There was something so sexy about him and authority that she just couldn't resist.

When she didn’t respond, he took another step closer to her. Being with him was incredible. She couldn’t lie and say she had never thought about it. For fuck’s sake she’s been in love with him for years, and he knew. He touched her and the nerves in her body had come alive in ways she didn’t know they could.

“Kiss me, Claire.”

She stood, unwavering, but her heart was thumping so loud she wasn’t sure she heard him right. Her mouth went dry, but she cleared her throat, attempting to cover up how much he affected her.

“You first.” She challenged him.

Neil obliged, advancing. With his arms around her waist, he kissed her. She moaned immediately upon feeling his tongue on hers. She pressed herself against him, her lower half ablaze.

“What do you want, Claire?” Neil mumbled into her skin between kisses.

His lips trailed down her neck. “Tell me what you want.”

When he found the nape of her neck, all Claire could bring herself to do was gasp, caught desperately in the whirlwind of her own pleasure. Neil brought a hand to her hair, nearly getting his engagement ring caught in her hair. He stopped for just a moment, sliding it off and setting it on the desk.

“I want to make you feel good, Claire. Tell me how.”

Claire grabbed his wrist, guiding it under her skirt blindly. Neil gripped her thigh, falling to his knees. Her skirt left nothing for the imagination, and he had noticed it all day. Of course, she could wear anything and he’d still want to do this.

He moved in, placing kisses along her thigh. She threw her head back, one hand clutching at the side of his desk underneath her. Neil’s warm breath on her skin worked magic, taunting her into submission.

“Neil!” She cried as his mouth moved upward. She nearly bit her lip off because she didn’t realize how much she wanted his touch.

He arrived at her core, moving his mouth over the most sensitive parts of her. His tongue ran a long, slow strip along her skin, and Claire gasped under his lips.

He stopped abruptly, his own unique form of torture. Claire shook her head wordlessly, hardly able to control herself.

“What’s the problem, Dr. Browne?” Melendez taunted in a whisper.

“Neil!” Claire choked out in a hiss.

He chuckled before dipping his head back between her thighs. His tongue explored her lips for just a second, causing a soft moan to escape Claire’s mouth. The pitch of her voice rose as he made his way up to her clit. He probed it experimentally.

“Oh-oh-oh my god! I’m-Neil!” She stuttered, unable to finish her sentence.

He began to suck, gently and with purpose.

“I’m going to-!” She was unraveling at an embarrassingly fast pace.

She came undone, unraveling into Neil’s arm’s as he stood up. He left her lace-trimmed underwear around her ankles, letting her collapse onto him.

“Was it worth it, Claire?” He asked quietly. She nodded.

She pulled him back up, rushing down the button of his shirt, flicking them open and reaching for his trousers. His belt was already unbuckled, so it was quick work to reach down into his briefs. She let his trousers fall, tugging his briefs and they parted just long enough to strip.

“Please” she begged, “I want you.”

He complied, slipping one finger in just deep enough to make her moan because it wasn’t enough. His mouth dropped to her left breast, his tongue darting out to sweep torturous circles around her stiff nipple. Her hands card through his short hair, her nails scraping his scalp. Claire’s head dropped back, breathy gasps seeming to spur him on. She felt the heat of his erection burning her thigh and she had never been more frustrated.

She grabbed his wrist, looking him in the eyes. “I want you, Neil.”

She was growing impatient, so she grabbed his cock, feeling the smooth skin beneath her palm and she smiled at the way his features twisted into a look of utter desperation, at the way her name slipped through his teeth, his breath stuttering and gasping this time.

He pressed himself into her, her sigh mingling with his as they bask in the heat of them combined, her hands on his ass -- it’s just as muscular as it looked, she thought -- keeping them still for a moment before he shifted inside of her, and she’s filled to the brim with him, and he began to move. They went slow at first, his lips silenced her moans of “please” and “yes” and “Neil” as she matched his pace.

Claire was drowning in him, and all she knew was the way his lips parted as they rock, parting and coming together. With one last push inside of her, her nails gliding across his back, he gasped her name, and a warmth filled her lower belly as she rode him out, reaching her climax with a strangled, muffled shout of his name, the end of a mantra.

They didn’t separate immediately. Instead, they waited for the heat between them to dissipate and his cock went soft inside of her, and they are locked together, lips trailing individual, nonsensical patterns across sweating flesh and Claire felt Neil sigh against her.

“Maybe we should try a bed next time.”