Satisfaction Guaranteed(33)

Sloane: That is true. I can’t argue with you there.



Piper: And hey, we all have issues. I have my fair share of issues. Big thorny issues.



Sloane: True, your issues are bigger than my issues. sticks out tongue



Piper: You know it! Mine are a mile high. But at least I’ve been to the mile-high club. :)



Sloane: Show off.



Piper: Anyway, all I’m saying is have an open mind to what you want in your body, your mind, and your heart. Also, it may not have felt entirely right being intimate with the dickhead jerks you dated.



Sloane: And do you think I feel better being intimate with Malone?



Piper: I don’t think it’s any surprise he’s the one you’re playing “Midnight Train to O-ville” with.



Sloane: Perhaps he’ll be the one to get me to that destination.



Piper: You know where orgasms lead.



Sloane: To bliss?



Piper: That, but also intimacy. Watch out.



Sloane: I’ll consider myself warned. On that note, want to meet me at that sexy lingerie shop on the Upper East Side?



Piper: I thought you’d never ask.





26





Whoever said Sunday was a day of rest clearly never had a mission like mine.

There is no rest when you’re tasked with something so critical. The pleasure of a woman is at stake, for fuck’s sake.

I can’t watch sports. I can’t shoot hoops with Nick or Jason. I can barely even think about the jujitsu class on the schedule this evening.

I have research to do, and that’s all I should be doing.

Studying and gathering data.

If I head into tomorrow night cock blazing, ego blasting, thinking I can send her soaring with my big dick, then I might as well slap an F on Project Good Loving right now.

She doesn’t need a big dick—though I come equipped, thank you very much.

She doesn’t need machismo either.

What she needs, I suspect, is something else entirely.

I spend the afternoon in the modern-day equivalent of the research stacks—my iPad. I rappel into the woman’s cave for the day. Don’t try to find me. I’m in Cosmo. I’m deep diving to Refinery29. I’m hanging out in Bustle.

Hell, I even search for something I never thought I’d search for before: feminist porn. And there is some seriously hot fucking going on thanks to that search term. The best part? Everything is all about her.

Her needs. Her pleasure. Her path to O.

I watch. I take notes.

I study the hell out of what a woman who’s never visited the land of Oh God, There, Right There needs to reach that destination.

When I close the tablet and head to jujitsu that night, I somehow focus all my mental energy on how to make Sloane Elizabeth feel like a queen in bed, barely saying a word to Jason or Truly till we’re done.

When class is over, Jason claps me on the back. “Want to grab a bite?”

I shake my head. “Nope. I have work to do.”

“Sunday night veterinarian work?”

“Work of another kind,” I answer. “Go hang out with Truly if you want company.”

My sister stares daggers at me. “Thanks for making me a consolation prize.”

Jason winks at her. “Don’t be sad, Truly. You’re a lovely consolation.”

“Gee, thanks.”

I’m off, leaving Truly and Jason staring after me as I speed-walk out of there like I’ve just received marching orders.

Which sounds about right.





*



The next day at the clinic, I am all business. I treat my patients like the pro that I am. I address staff issues like a boss. I consult with Doug like it’s my job, because it is.

I am firing on eighty-eight cylinders today. The prospect of seeing Sloane tonight is an injection of pure adrenaline, pushing me through the hours.

Seeing her throughout the day also contributes to the get-shit-done-like-a-badass attitude, since my motivation is right in front of me.

Around midday, a client brings in the friendliest cat I’ve ever treated, who’s ornery as a bull today. He has a hell of a reason for being pissed. He can’t piss. I set to work on the black cat named Quinn right away, getting a catheter going for the blockage. A little later, I find Sloane visiting the feline, cooing at him through the metal bars of his kennel. “You’re going to feel better real soon. I promise. Dr. Goodman is the pussycat whisperer,” she says softly.

“Why, thank you.”

She startles then smiles, perhaps a little embarrassed. “I didn’t think anyone was back here.”

“I figured as much. Also, that was adorable.”

“And true, I suspect. On all counts.”

“Thanks for visiting Quinn. He likes company.”

She reaches in and scratches his chin, and he rubs against her. “I’m always happy to make the rounds.” She tilts her head. “By the way, I wanted to ask you about a dog.”

She tells me about a min-pin with a skin condition that she wants to bring into her rescue, showing me a picture of the pup as we leave the kennel section. “That was taken by the shelter I want to spring him from. But I want to make sure I'm not biting off more than I can chew. Can you help him without it becoming too onerous?”