Left them to make out some more and went seeking someone of my own to kiss like he was kissing her. Took one home not long after he and I said goodbye. Figured if Lexi was lost in the wind, might as well have some fun.
Foolish to waste a party.
She’s perfect fantasy material as I stroke myself to fruition. The memory of how she looked riding me, I can imagine right now reflected in that mirror.
Full breasted, wide hipped, ready to go all night. I can just close my eyes and enjoy the thick pulsing that beats the base of my length. My hand slides up and down, veins throbbing so good, grip firmly pushing my silky skin over the sensitive head again and again as my pleasure intensifies.
For inspiration I look at the mirror again to remember what she looked like. But that girl has been replaced by Dr. Myers’ bobbing ponytail, her physician’s coat spread out and covering my torso.
Oh man, yes.
Didn’t plan for this.
Never done it before.
But the fantasy inspires my cock to full mass, blood pounding.
Let’s get her peeling off that coat along with her inhibitions.
“That’s right, Dr. Myers. I do stay in too long. But you like that, don’t you?” I chuckled, wincing at the sweet burning ache. As the pressure rises, I close my eyes, stroking faster with a firmer grip.
Squinting a peek at the ceiling mirror, I grunt at Janet, uninvited, Dr. Myers gone. My cock flops like my mom just walked in the room. Cussing under my breath, I grab the comforter, pull it up, flip on my side, and shut my eyes.
I’m so pissed off, it takes me a whole two minutes to fall asleep.
CHAPTER 3
ELIZABETH MYERS
“I ’ll have the mocha latte with a double shot of espresso and almond milk, please. Thank you.” Glancing to a text message, I don’t see at first that my barista is checking out my cleavage. He's early 20s, a little scrawny, definitely hipster, and not attractive to me in any way.
Finally catching him in the act, I cock an eyebrow. “Dude. My face is up here.”
He grins to his credit. A sense of humor takes a man’s attractiveness up several notches for me. Which of course gets me thinking of Caden Cocker. But then again everything has me thinking of that mischievous son of a bitch, usually for not good reasons.
Sighing, I step away and zip up my wallet, glancing down because my credit card got stuck in the zipper. “Get in there.”
“Dr. Myers!”
My head swings up and I smile at Janet who I seem to run into here nearly every day. We live in the same neighborhood, Midtown.
“Dr. Gilroy. Nice to see you. How is your day starting off?”
“You can call me Janet when we’re not in the hospital.”
“I know, you keep saying that,” I smile. “I prefer to keep things professional when we’re in this stage.”
She doesn’t have to ask which stage we’re in. And she’s smart enough to not explore that subject with me.
She plays it cool, this one.
We both glance over to see if our coffees are ready yet. She’s the lucky winner because the female barista with spiky hair and piercings sets down a cup, calling out, “Janet!”
Every day that girl acts like she’s never seen us before. Real customer service specialist right there.
Reaching for the gold, Dr. Gilroy mutters under her breath, “If only the coffee at the hospital was this good, right?”
Nodding, I stare at the espresso machine like that will make my mocha latte get deposited in my fist quicker.
I couldn’t sleep last night.
My mind was on Caden.
The glint of amusement that is constantly behind his expression, except maybe when I’m reproaching him for overstepping, has been popping into my thoughts often lately.
It’s unnerving.
Totally involuntary.
I’ve tried to stop.
But Caden has these amazing, almond-brown eyes that glitter like he’s got a secret. His temper, however, I could do without. Especially since it brings out my own. With everyone else I have complete control.
With him…it’s different.
When he was assigned to me just over two years ago, I was less than thrilled. Nobody could tell I felt that way, of course. I pride myself on my ability to hold my emotions at bay. I’ve always believed it’s a professional necessity.
Trauma surgeons must face and conquer challenges a fragile person couldn’t handle. Emotions have no place when you’re saving a life.
Except ambition, that is a must.
Not the drive to reach a higher status level, but the ambition to do whatever it takes to hold death back when it looms. If the grim reaper exists, I can proudly say I’ve ticked him off many times.
There have been some terrible things I have witnessed but I have also experienced extraordinarily beautiful moments. The countless times I’ve been the cause of those gorgeous breaths when a family cries from joy instead of pain, are enough to get me out of bed every morning heading in with a sense of purpose in my step.
That’s why I didn’t want to be bothered with a guy who looked like Caden Cocker, under my tutelage. From the moment I saw his good looks and cocky swagger, I pegged him as a pretty-boy jock type with a silver spoon up his ass. Someone who wouldn’t get down and dirty when chaos struck the ER, as it always does.
I expected him to be in heat. Send our nursing staff into a clusterfuck of drama. Spend all of his time trying to take off their scrubs while begging off doing real work for the hospital.
Ruefully I expected to constantly babysit his prima-donna ass. And I do have to babysit him, but for none of the slacking-off reasons I’d wrongfully predicted.
He didn’t meet my assumptions and instead exceeded my expectations, working too hard.
Human beings need sleep. Residents have a limit on the hours they can legally work, and he’s forever ignoring it. Frankly, I’ve never seen anyone as competitive, or as temperamental when he feels slighted.
It’s a problem, and
