“I’m going to make you cum harder than you ever have. I’m going to make you touch yourself on the memory of my hungry cock for years. I’m going to fantasize about your pussy dripping for me. Taking all of me in. Yielding to my size. Arching your ass up like a cat’s so I get in deeper. Oh, that’s it. Cum for me. Shiver more.” Pulling my head back by my hair, Caden pants, “Cum for me! Give me that sweet stuff.” I whimper as the burn slides past the edge, clit pounding, labia clenching his base. He slams a couple hard strokes and I turn into a puddle. He releases my clit, uses both hands to separate my ass cheeks. “Dirty Elizabeth.” His right thumb circles the outside of my anus and I cry out in surprise, pleasure ripping my orgasm into fresh outbursts. “Ooh, you like that, huh? Fuck, I’m gonna cum if I stay a second longer.”
“Don’t do it inside of me!”
He chuckles, “I know, I know. Don’t worry,” slowly pulling out and wincing with the sexiest look in his eyes.
I turn around and sure enough, there it is, the cock of the century. With his left hand Caden strokes his veiny length while staring at the damp and glistening hairs between my legs.
Iridescent liquid shoots out of his crimson mushroom-shaped tip. He sharply breathes in, grimacing and gorgeous. With one last exhale he gathers himself together and pulls tissues out of his coat pocket, handing half to me as he passes my coat.
I stare at the well-timed offering. “You had these for a patient?”
“Brought them for you.” At my appalled expression, Caden smirks, “In case you started to cry when I said that’s the last time we’ll fuck.”
Cocking an eyebrow I clean up with as much modesty as is possible under these conditions. “Then you should keep these for yourself.” I hand him the used tissues, righting my clothing and heading for the elevator. “Because you’ll need ‘em when you realize I meant that.”
“You go on ahead, Dr. Myers. Wouldn’t want anyone seeing us. I’ll take the stairs.”
As the mirrored doors whoosh closed, he winks at me. As soon as I’m alone, I start laughing, fix my hair, wipe my lips, pull it together. Somehow I must make that one-time-only vow stick.
CHAPTER 18
C ADEN
Hot damn.
Her instruction to meet was unusual, but I worried she was being generous, warning me in private to knock it off since she knows how much I’ve put into this residency.
I had the tissues for a patient.
One who turned them down.
Pocketed them without motive.
No way I thought we’d be fucking up here. Not in a million years.
“Hot damn,” I whisper aloud with reverence for the memory of her moan. She loves it filthy. Got off on the location, too. I know it did it for me. But hey, I’m a guy. Construction and demolition is appealing. Tearing things apart and building something bigger equals fun.
As I stroll down the staircase, a door on the third floor opens. Dr. Pivens is checking his cell and glances up at the echoing sound of my footsteps, then goes back to typing. “Oh, Dr. Cocker. Just the man I was planning to see at some point today.”
We stop in the air-conditioned chill. “What’s up?”
“You came from the Seventh Floor?” My eyebrows fly up. “Look at your shoes.”
Glancing to them I see the blanket of dust. “Look at that,” I casually smirk. “I was curious how the renovations are coming along.”
“I’ve been meaning to go up there. How’s it look?”
I point to my shoes. “Clean enough to eat off the floors.”
He chuckles, and puts his phone away. “Cilla, my patient with bone cancer—”
“Yeah, I know her.”
“She was asking about you. Would you poke your head in and say hi? She’s been down.”
“Of course. I’ll go now.”
“Heading to the break room for food. Join me after?”
“Just took a break.”
With a friendly clap of my shoulder he smirks, “Nice lipstick stains,” and continues down the staircase. “Another time then.”
I swipe my lips, staring at the pink tinge left behind as I make a beeline to the men’s room to wash my face and smooth tufts of hair from when she grabbed me in a fit of passion. Pulling out paper towels, I clean these telltale shoes, too. I’ll run down and change my scrubs.
Dr. Pivens is an introverted, scholastic type, above gossip. He’s written research papers on cancer preventatives and treatment which were published and circulated internationally among leading-edge hospitals. A good man, happily married, Pivens chose us because he likes the weather here. We’re lucky to have him.
And I’m lucky it was him I ran into.
All cleaned up I practically whistle my way to Cilla’s room. But that stops when I see her.
“Hey Cill.”
“Dr. Cocker!” Pulling herself up to sitting, she smiles. “I didn’t expect to see you today. I fell asleep.”
From the looks of her, she’s mostly sleeping. Fearing the worst, I pull out her chart and scan the radiation and chemo progress. It takes a great deal of self-control to keep my face light as I read that she isn’t responding. I slip the folder back into place. But meeting her eyes I can tell she knows I’m forcing this smile.
“It’s not good,” she gently says.
“You’ve gotta stay positive.”
She confesses, “I’m not afraid to die, Dr. Cocker.”
I cross my arms, dipping my chin, our gazes held. “Then you’re a brave girl.”
“I think we have many lives. And they’re all lessons to bring us back to what we really are.”
“What do you think that is?”
“I think it’s all just…love.”
Frowning, I admit, “I’m confused by what you mean.”
“We’re not supposed to be so afraid all the time.” She reaches for a glass of water, struggling to hold the cup steady because she’s so weak. I move to help but she lifts a bony hand to stop me and
