An Appointment with Dr. Lane

Nick had insisted that he needed his top paralegal on this case, and when they got to the hotel reception desk, Aubrey was starting to understand why. Four high-profile clients were suing Le Blanc, New York's most exclusive luxury hotel, for discrimination. Le Blanc's paper trail was spotless, and if they were going to find anything to help them leverage their clients' claims, they needed to do some digging themselves. Not as lawyers, of course, but under the inconspicuous guise of Le Blanc's typical clientele.

And whether Nick liked to admit it or not, he needed to be classed-up a little bit if they were even going to make it through the front door.

Luckily, the doorman, dressed in sleek black with an intercom coiling out of one ear, appraised Aubrey in her tight-fitted dress with shaded eyes. He nodded and let them pass.

Nick whistled through his teeth. "Jesus. Look at this place."

The lobby opened upwards, all glass walls and high ceilings. A fountain spat a stream of water into the air, two glistening dolphins intertwined. Gold-flecked tile clipped under Aubrey's heels.

She squeezed Nick's arm and lowered her voice. "Don't look too starstruck, or I've got a feeling they're going to throw us out just like our clients."

"I've got a feeling they're going to throw us out if we breathe funny."

"Relax. Let me take the lead."

"Oh, you don't think I'm classy enough to handle it? I can be classy, Aubrey."

"Sure, Nick." She nudged him playfully. In spite of Nick's undeniable charm, there were still places he couldn't blend into as easily. Aubrey's upbringing had given her a leg up on him in this respect. "I'll take the lead."

Painting on a bright smile, Aubrey tugged Nick over to the reception desk. A man with gray-tinged hair pulled into a bun glanced up from tapping at a keyboard. "You must be Mr. and Mrs. Santiago." His voice was gravel-smooth.

Of course Nick had fabricated a cover for them, and of course he'd decided they would be a married couple--without asking for her input. It was probably the right move, but she was still pissed he hadn't given her any warning about it. She shot him a pointed look, which he ignored.

"Yep," Nick said, clearing his throat. "That's us." He tapped his fingers on the marble counter, looking absentmindedly at the large, blank-faced clock to the right of the reception desk.

Fine, she could play along. And if she played along so well that Nick regretted the whole endeavor, that was just an added benefit. "Yes!" She butted in, nudging Nick to the side. "I don't know if you know this, Mr.--" She glanced at his nameplate--"Rosen, but we're actually on our honeymoon."

Mr. Rosen frowned slightly, and Nick's grip tightened around Aubrey's arm. She jabbed him with her elbow, loosening his hold.

The receptionist tapped a few keys. "Funny, I didn't see anything in your reservation notes... But no matter. It would be our honor to upgrade you to our honeymoon suite."

"That just sounds wonderful," Aubrey crooned in her most sugary-sweet voice. "Doesn't it, honey?"

"Wonderful," Nick said, tight-lipped.

"Oh, and if you wouldn't mind," Aubrey said, leaning over the receptionist's counter and batting her eyelashes, "we'd like a bottle of your most expensive wine sent up to our suite."

"Of course, Mrs. Santiago. Welcome to Le Blanc."

-

Once the hotel room door clicked shut, Nick spun on her. "What the hell was that?"

"What, were you a little bit caught off guard, Nick? You could have at least told me we were married." It was a sore subject, and he knew it. He'd mentioned the idea of an engagement three weeks ago at dinner, and she'd ended the night early. It was a possibility that had always loomed ahead of them, but she wasn't ready to consider it just yet.

Nick pulled off his gray suit jacket and threw it onto the back of a chair in the dining area, where a glass table faced a wide balcony overlooking the glittering skyline below. "I thought that was sort of implied, Aubrey."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize my only purpose here was to be quiet and look pretty on your arm."

Nick groaned, rolling his neck. He reached for her hands, but Aubrey tugged them away and crossed her arms. "You know that's not why I asked you to come."

Aubrey's jaw twitched. She shook a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Oh, right. Because without me, they wouldn't even let you through the door."

"Is that what you think of me, or what your dad thinks of me?"

She seethed silently. He had no right to bring her father into this. He wasn't the one trying to dictate the terms of her life. Not this time, at least. Everyone had an opinion on what she should be doing with her future, and hers seemed to hold the least weight.

"Look, Aubrey. I can't do this without you. You know more about the case than I do."

She scoffed. "Bullshit. You memorized those files inside and out."

He smiled apologetically. In spite of herself, Aubrey felt herself softening as he pulled her closer. It was hard for her to stay mad at him very long, with his boyish features and those devilish blue eyes, and his unkempt blond hair standing up in spikes. She reached out instinctively to flatten them against his scalp.

"Come on, Bri. You're telling me you don't want to enjoy this?"

He backed through the dining room and toward the two floor-to-ceiling doors that opened into the bedroom, revealing a lush, canopied king. He threw himself onto it, flopping on his back. She couldn't help but laugh at the way his tie flew up and landed over his face, which he blew out of the way.

"C'mere."

She climbed onto the soft mattress, settling over him. "I guess we're not going to be getting much sleep," she chucked, and Nick pulled her down into a kiss.

-

After warming up the bed, they had to make up for lost time. A cursory exploration of the lobby revealed nothing of interest, and neither did the second-floor conference rooms or ballroom--although they did manage to swipe a couple of drinks from catering. At the end of the hall on the third floor, they hit a wall. A wall, actually, with a door displaying the manager's name on a gold-embossed placard. "Daniel Brandt," it read.

"If we're going to find anything, it'll be in that office." Back in their room, Nick had case files spread out all over the bed. The sky had darkened outside their window, and the skyline was alight beneath.

"It's not like we can just bust in there and ask for a look around," Aubrey said, pacing. Nick was right. The hotel was clean on the surface, but anything that might explain the canceled reservations--a personal insult to its upscale clientele--was sealed away in records they couldn't reach.

"Right. That's why we're not going to ask." Silently, he pulled something from his pocket. It took Aubrey a moment to identify what he was holding.

"You didn't."

"If anyone asks, you don't know where I got it." He flicked the keycard onto the bed and pulled Aubrey in toward him.

"I'm not sure I like where this is going."

"Aubrey..." He leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Mrs. Santiago..."--ignoring her eye roll--"You trust me, don't you?"

"I have plenty of reasons not to."

"But...?"

"I'm not cleaning up your mess this time."

"Good. Then we won't make one."

-

The keycard worked like a charm, and the door swung open into a wide, darkened office with burgundy carpeting and a sleek black desk. Aubrey checked the hall a final time before pulling the door shut. They were clear for now, but who knew how long that would last?

She flicked on the orbicular desk lamp and ran her hands over its underside, searching for drawers and pockets, but found only smooth wood. Nick studied the minimalist artwork on the walls. He pulled one frame up, leaving a slightly brighter patch of wall beneath. He let out a long breath. "I can't believe this guy. It's like he doesn't spend any time in here."

"Maybe he doesn't." Something had caught Aubrey's eye--the outline of a doorframe along the far wall, almost flush with it. There was no handle, and no light underneath. Just a thin, barely-noticeable seam along the wallpaper. She crossed the office and ran her fingers along the seam, trying to get a grip underneath. Then she pushed her shoulder against it and heard a click.

Nick flanked her as she stepped into the dark-shrouded room. Bright fluorescent lights flickered on above them, revealing the interior. It was a small, file-filled room with a steel examination table at the center. The sight of it struck the air from Aubrey's lungs. Her throat tightened.

"I didn't know Daniel Brandt had a license to practice medicine," Nick said.

"He doesn't." The air in the room felt still and terse, and she was almost hesitant to break it.

"No?"

"Nick," she sighed, frustrated with his obliviousness. She was going to have to tell him, wasn't she? "Clearly you don't watch very much hardcore German porn."

"And you do?" Nick spun, then looked at the examination table with new eyes. "Woah. Wait, you're saying this is some kind of sex dungeon?"

"Yeah, Nick." Obviously.

"I'm still hung up on how you know about that."

"It's irrelevant to the case."

"But--"

"If it gets us what we need, what does it matter?" She snapped.

"We're coming back to this later."

"Mhm. Sure."

-

Later came and went while Nick and Aubrey dug through file folders. Nick had pulled up a rolling stool and leaned over a cabinet in the corner of the office, a hand buried in his messy hair. Most of the files seemed to be dumped into the room for storage: old leasing documents, contracts with catering companies, financial records their firm already had access to. Then Nick's eyes widened and he slapped a couple of papers onto the cabinet. He blinked. "They fucked us."

"What?"

"Look at these." He fanned out the files. "Contracts, between Daniel Brandt and... Jesus, like twenty women."

"Let me see those." Aubrey sidled up to him, leaning over his shoulder. She skimmed a few lines and had to suppress a laugh. Some of the stipulations on the contracts were quite lurid, and undeniably binding--one made mention of nipple clamps. "Well, I guess we know what our clients wanted to keep secret."

"You don't get how serious this is, do you? They lied to us."

"They didn't lie, they just didn't disclose them."

"Come on, Aubrey. Who's side are you on, anyway?" His voice was taut with stress and lack of sleep.

"The clients'. Like you should be too." Aubrey crossed her arms, and sat back against the examination table. The metal was cool against her body, even through her skirt.

"This is going to blow everything. They'll never admit to signing these."

"They won't have to, now that we have evidence."

"Evidence that's inadmissible. 'Sorry, your honor. I just happened to stumble into the defendant's secret sex chamber and uncovered a mountain of incriminating documents.'"

Aubrey sighed. "What now?"

"If we can prove that the contracts were signed under duress, then--"

"What if they weren't?"

"What are you saying?"

"Is it so far-fetched to believe that these women entered into contractual agreements because they wanted to?"

"Why would anyone want to?"

"Well..." Aubrey ran her hand over the cold steel. "I can sort of see the appeal."

"You--what now?"

She shrugged. "Think about it. They sign a contract dictating exactly how they want to be treated, how far they're willing to go. After that, they hand over their autonomy to 'Doctor' Brandt. These women are CEOs, top sales associates... Lawyers. When you're so in control in your everyday life, maybe you'd want to give that up for a little while."

"These are long-term contracts."

"Meaning they keep coming back."

"Yeah, well." Nick folded his hands in his lap, shuffling on the stool. "I can understand that feeling."

An idea clicked into place in Aubrey's mind like a pair of steel handcuffs. How would Nick look when he lost control, she wondered? Not when he gave it up voluntarily, but had it taken from him. She pictured his cheeks flushed, his eyes a cloudy, blissful blue, his breath coming in desperate pants.

"What are you looking at me like that for?"

"What?" She blinked the image away. "I'm not looking at you like anything." She tugged at her collar, trying to release some of the suddenly-sweltering heat underneath.

"No, you were definitely giving me this look."

Of course she couldn't get anything past him.

"So what? Tell me."

Aubrey slid down from the exam table and approached him, navigating around file stacks. She picked up the end of Nick's tie and worked her way up until her eyes met his. "Nick, I was thinking... You know what makes you a good lawyer?"

"What?" He asked cautiously, like he was anticipating a trap.

"You care about your clients. You try to understand how they feel, get into their heads."

"I don't know what you're suggesting."

"I think you do. And I know that you of all people need to take a load off." She ran a hand up his arm and shoulder, resting at the crook of his neck.

He scoffed. "Yeah, I mean, that's what this whole thing is. Sweet little vacation at a luxury hotel, room service, spending time with you..." He leaned in to kiss her, and she hesitated a moment before pulling away.

"And it's still work. This," she glanced at the steel exam table, "isn't."

"About that hardcore German porn you were talking about..."

"Don't worry, I can be gentle."

She nudged him backward until his thighs bumped against the table.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he said, narrowing his eyes.

Someone might catch them, yes. But somehow that made the idea all the more exhilarating, and now Aubrey wasn't sure she could let it go.

"And you shouldn't be talking." She pressed a finger to the center of Nick's chest until he sank down onto the exam table. It would be nice, she thought, to see Nick Reed a little less certain of himself. A little stripped down, a little less high and mighty.

"What do you think, Nick? Because I think you're overdue for a checkup."

"Are you saying you want to play doctor, Aubrey?"

She nodded, eagerly searching the face she'd gotten so good at reading. Right now, it mystified her; a titillating desire mixed with a reserve Nick didn't usually have when it came to this kind of thing. It was a little bit more adventurous than their usual routine, though.

He hesitated a moment, then cleared his throat. "Uh, well then... How do we start?"

"Hmm..." She tugged at her necklace, rolling the smooth metal over in her hand. "Why don't you start by undressing?"

His eyes widened. She could see the wheels turning: Oh shit, she's really serious about this. Damn right she was. It was about time he learned just how serious she could be.

She took a step back so that he could push himself off the table. Arms crossed, she watched him slowly unbutton his white work shirt and untuck it from his belt, letting it fall open along his torso.

"Let me help you with that." Really, she was the one who couldn't help herself. She slipped her hands under the shirt, the soft edges of his body warming her hands. She freed the shirt from his shoulders until it sagged down his arms and dropped onto the floor. She lingered there, soaking in his skin.

Then she glanced down at his belt. "Those too."

He raised his eyebrows. "You want me to..."

"How do you think I'm going to examine you with your clothes on, silly?"

She watched hungrily as he undid his belt--something she'd seen him do a hundred times, but the action now felt deliberately slow, like he was making her watch him open a present instead of letting her tear off the wrapping herself. He dropped his slacks to his knees and stepped out of them, leaving him naked except for his checkered boxers.

"Up here." She patted the table, indicating for Nick to hoist himself up.

Now she could really look at him, really take her time mulling him over. He was beautiful like this. The light fuzz covering his pink skin, his soft belly, the hints of muscle leading below the waistband of his boxers. And, of course, the tent there that Nick was trying casually to hide, his fingers knitted together over his crotch.

She wanted to pay him back for all the times he'd left her hot and flustered in the copier room, all the nights she'd felt completely powerless, wondering if he felt the same way about her. Every fucking time he'd broken things off with her without an explanation. She understood now, but she wasn't quite ready to forgive him.

Nick jumped when she ran a hand up his thigh. "Do you usually get aroused at doctor's appointments?"

He laughed nervously. "Not unless the doctor's as hot as you."

"Oh, Nick. That's not a very professional way to address me," she teased.

"How should I address you, then?"

Aubrey brushed a dark strand of hair back over her shoulder. If she'd chosen another path, maybe been born into a different family, med school might actually have suited her. "You can call me Dr. Lane."

"Ooh, I like the sound of that, Doctor Lane," Nick said, reaching for her arm, which she slid out of his grasp.

"Ah ah," she wagged a finger at him. "Did I say you could touch me?"

His eyes flickered with a frightened intensity.

Aubrey worked her way down to where Nick was covering his obvious boner. "Are you embarrassed about something, Nicholas?"

His face twitched at the use of his full name, usually reserved for his grandmother, high school principals, and presumably his doctors, and Aubrey relished the opportunity to taunt him with it.

Nick's Adam's apple bobbed under his whiskered chin. In a softer moment she would have kissed him there, but this willful avoidance of touch was making her skin tingle with excitement. It took her back to the early days of their relationship when they'd had to be so careful in the office that no one caught them brushing up against each other, even for a moment.

Aubrey stroked the backs of his hands where they were folded in his lap. Slowly, they softened and released, and she pulled them apart. "From now on, I want you to keep your hands at your sides."

He set them flat on the table on either side of his thighs, leaving his straining cock visible under his boxers. "Yes, Doctor Lane."

She was struck by his eyes, now pure blue sincerity, with a feverish spite boiling just underneath. It was her turn to stop, to bite down on her lip and feel the weight of whatever it was they were doing. What had started as a playful joke now felt like something much more serious.

A shiver ran through her, and Nick's eyebrows perked up just slightly as she shook it off. Before he could ask if she was okay, Aubrey spun on her heel and started to dig through the manager's many cabinets. "Let me just find what I need..."

Knowing better than to interrupt, Nick kept his mouth shut while she worked. Bending to open one of the lower drawers, she felt his eyes on her, no doubt admiring how her ass looked in her pencil skirt. She smiled to herself, thinking of all the times Nick must have snuck glances at her in the office before they started dating.

In the third drawer down, she hit the jackpot. There were some pretty conventional medical supplies: a stethoscope, a reflex mallet, a box of nitrile gloves--she would definitely be using those, and looked forward to the expression on Nick's face as she snapped them on. But there were also other instruments she recognized from some less-than-enjoyable routine exams: metal speculums of various shapes and sizes. She shuddered slightly. The thought of using them on someone else, that was an interesting idea. Nick certainly didn't know how it felt to be pried open like that for a doctor to poke and prod. She brushed her fingers over the cold metal.