S.O.S. (Doctor Drama Book 3)

by Amanda Faye

She's rocking her hips forward and backward, and my cock is rubbing not only against her walls but against the internal vibrator as well. With the toy inside of her, it makes the fit almost too tight. The sensations it sends through my body are exquisite.

  She starts to ground her pelvis against me, and I know it the desire to strengthen the vibrations against her nub. That's why I sat up against the headboard. To give myself something to leverage against so that I could support her. I'm a man of education. I did my research.

  The more I touch her, the more I want to feel. I find myself wishing I had half a dozen more hands. I want hands on her hips to help support her, palms on her back to touch and rub her, fingers on her breasts to caress and pinch. My mouth is licking and sucking everything within reach, and I know she'll have marks everywhere from her chest to her throat by the time I'm done with her tonight.

  "Fuuuuck Logan."

  The only time I hear her swear is when I'm driving her out of her mind, and it gives me an added boost to listen to the filth coming out of her mouth. Her voice is tight with strain, and I know she's close. I feel like I could go on like this all night long.

  "Ride me, baby. Use me how you want me."

  With my mouth latched onto my favorite breast, I reach a hand under her ass to spread her wide, and she lets out this high pitched keening noise that I've never heard from her before. Her whole body clenches around me as she loses herself on top, and my orgasm shoots from me, coaxed by the amazingness that is Emma Adams. I hold her in my arms and feel her trembling against me.

  When she collapses, panting in my ear, I dig my heels into the mattress and give a few more erratic thrusts, milking her until she starts begging me to stop. Though her body is limp, she still tries to squirm away from the vibrations, firing from the toy inside her. I hit the off button on the remote. Allowing her to slide off to the side, I gather her listless body close to mine and spread kisses everywhere I can reach.

  "Like it?"

  It's a ridiculous question. I've never seen Emma come as hard as she just did, but I could always use a little ego-stroking.

  "That may very well have been the best sex of my life. Holy shit. Thank you, Logan. I mean it. Thank You."

  She's still huffing slightly, and it looks like she's trying to roll over, but can't seem to control her body enough to do so yet. I'm a little weak myself, and she did all the work.

  To hear her admit it out loud, the woman who won't confess to more than tolerating me daily, that we've had the best sex if her life is a compliment indeed, and I kiss her, trying to show her that the pleasure was undoubtedly all mine.

  "Just give me ten minutes to catch my breath, and then I'll get out of your hair."

  "Stay. Stay here tonight." I didn't realize I was going to say it until I did, but I know I mean it with everything I have.

  "I'll make sure you're up in time to be home before Brandon has to get ready for school. But stay here."

  I know she's going to say no, and have my heart hardened for the word, but she blows my mind for a second time this evening.

  "Okay. Wake me up in the morning."

  And before I know what's happened, she's asleep in my arms.

  Chapter 30

  Logan

  I decided to jog to work today. It was beautiful this morning. The temperature is supposed to hit the forties. That's almost a heat wave compared to what we’ve been having. The air is clear and still, and I need to burn off some frustrations after waking up without Emma this morning.

  I have five weeks left. Five weeks to decide. What are my options? Option one. I ignore that my heart speeds up at the very thought of Emma Adams. I go on pretending it’s just a perfect booty call, and deny that I’m feeling things I never thought I’d feel again. Something I never wanted to feel again. Thoughts that have overtaken my every waking moment. A person I dream about.

  Okay, Logan, that’s not helping. Running is supposed to clear my mind. Not fill it with nonsense and poetry. Keeping my pace steady, I cross the street and make the turn onto the road that feeds into the hospital. My bookbag, the same one I’ve had since med school, is a comforting weight against my back. It’s barely daybreak. I don’t have to be at the hospital for another two hours. But when I reached for her this morning and felt that she’d already gone, I knew there’d be no going back to sleep.

  Option two. I tell Emma about all of the things I’m feeling. Not love. Of course, not love. I’ve only known her for seven weeks. Not love. But obsession? Most certainly. Infatuation. The fact that I adore her. That I crave her like an addict craves their next high. Sure, let's go with option number two. Then I can get a visit from the police as they are explaining the conditions of the restraining order. Besides, how is that fair to either of us? I’m leaving in just over a month.

  Which gives me option number three. I could stay here. I mean, it’s possible. I’m a damn good surgeon. Even if Rileys couldn’t keep me after Noah comes back, I could open my own practice or work at another hospital. That would mean leaving my family back in New York. A three-month temp assignment is one thing, a permanent move across the country is a whole other ballgame.

  Not to mention most of the time, she barely pretends to tolerate me. Okay. I’ll be honest with myself. She likes me. Emma isn't the type of girl to sleep with people she doesn’t like. At least not regularly. But that doesn’t mean that she wants to. She’s made it perfectly clear that she was only interested in this for as long as I was in Colorado. That meant three months. No more, no less. How is it fair to her if I start changing the terms of our arrangement?

  Which leaves me with option number one, which is the right choice. I’m not in love with her, after all. It’s a crush — no need to make this harder for her than it’s already going to be.

  I come upon the hospital campus and have to resist the urge to jog past her parking spot. I know she’s not here yet. She told me last night it was her day to get the kids to school.

  As weird as it sounds, I miss carpool duty. I babysat on a fairly regular basis back home. I miss the craziness that children bring to your life. Maybe I can convince Emma to let me come over now that her son knows about me. I could use some chaos in my days.

  I have an hour and a half before I have to show my face. After a shower and a change into my henley and scrubs, I go search for a bed to crash in.

  *******

  She’s at the nurse's station, talking to some kid intern who barely looks old enough to shave. I can’t see her face from this direction, but I can see his just fine. If he looked any more doe-eyed, he’d be at her feet shaking his tail begging for her to rub his head. Unfortunately for him, and once again, I feel like both thanking and hitting her ex, she’s sworn never to date a resident.

  The urge to claim her here in front of everyone is overwhelming. I have to stop in my tracks and close my eyes to get the image from my mind. Wrapping my hands into her hair and devouring her mouth. Lifting her onto the counter and marking her neck for all to see. The desire for her shoots through my limbs. I resort to thinking about Liam in the showers of the locker room to force my growing erection into submission. Then we’re down, works every time.

  I resume my walk in her direction and feel a deep sense of loss that she’s not mine. Even if she’s softening on the whole other people knowing about our thing, it wouldn’t be fair to stake a claim on her when I’m not going to be here much longer. Not for the first time, the conflict over our situation comes to the forefront of my mind. A pain I never expected to feel.

  Still, just because I can’t fuck her mouth with intern boy looking on, doesn’t mean I can’t mess with her in other ways.

  I quickly whip my cell phone out of my pocket and pretend to give it my utmost attention while paying no attention to my immediate surroundings. Sending Emma a quick text that says sorry, I make my move. Just as she’s reaching for her phone, I run right into her, dropping my Samsung in surprise and wrapping my hands around her hips to protect her as we collide. If
my dick rubs across her ass while trying to keep us upright, well, that’s not my fault, I’m sure. It’s physics.

  I feel somewhat bad at the moment of impact. I ran into Emma harder than I meant to and sent her crashing into the counter. A painful sounding ‘whoomph” escapes her lips, and she snaps her head around to try to see who collided with her.

  “Oh, my goodness. Dr. Adams, I am so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing. Are you okay? Please tell me I didn’t hurt you. Do you need me to do anything for you?”

  I start feeling her up and down with the excuse of checking her for injuries. In reality, I’m simply enjoying the feel of my hands on her, even if there are several layers of clothing between us while I do it — waist, ribcage, arms. I wrap my hands around her throat and run my thumbs along her jawline, tipping her head at just the right angle to kiss her if I wanted. Her confusion at the sudden impact quickly turns to amused anger when she sees it’s me, then to exasperation as I continue to ‘check’ her for injuries.

  “You hit that counter pretty hard. How are your ribs? Do you want me to examine them for you?”

  The lovesick intern tries to make a grab for her. I turn us around so that I am in between the two of them. It’s all I can do to stop from laughing at the forlorn expression I caught on his face. The motion makes her step on my phone, and I cringe. Man, I hope this foolishness didn’t break it.

  She wants to be mad at me. I see her trying to coax it to the front with every fiber of her being. But my adorableness wins out.

  “I’m fine. I’m sure it was an accident. No harm, no foul. Just, next time, watch where you’re going. We’re here to heal people at this hospital, not break their legs.”

  Feigning shock and horror, I drop into a squat at her front and start running my hands up and down her legs.

  “Did I hurt your legs too? Gosh, I’m such a clutz. I shouldn’t be allowed to operate. Let’s go to an exam room and check you out. Real quick.”

  When I reach the apex of her thighs, I rub my fingers quick and rough against her clit. I give up the fight against my shit-eating grin when she lets out a squeal and slaps my hands away. The sound sends all of my remaining blood straight to my dick.

  In an attempt to rescue her composure, she takes a few steps back and puts her hair into its tail. Her body does this whole little shutter thing as if it’s trying to settle into her skin again, and she momentarily trembles from head to toes.

  Fuuuck, it only makes me want her more. If I look closely, I think I can see the beginnings of a hickey I left under her jawline. Thinking about a naked Liam isn’t going to do it for me this time. The only thing that’ll put out this fire is putting myself in her.

  Since I’m already on the ground, I scoop my phone and stand up straight. I make sure to close some of the space Emma's put between us.

  The sparkle's in her eyes, and she gives her hair a tug over her shoulder. A sure tell sign that she wants me. Her skin is flushed and glowing, and it reminds me of what she looks like when I’m starting to have my way with her.

  Screw it. I don’t care if the whole campus knows — the entire universe should know how I want her. I’m going in. “I—“

  “Dr. Adams. If you’re feeling okay, our nine o’clock is ready in pre-op. If we’re late, it will mess with your entire schedule today.”

  Fucking baby intern cockblocker. He did that on purpose. I know he did. Emma shakes herself as if coming out if a trance and turns to face her shadow.

  “Of course, Dr. Michaels. I’m fine; thank you. Despite his best efforts, Dr— I’m sorry, I always forget your name.”

  When she turns to me again, her face is smug and naughty. She wants to play, huh? Oh man, she is going to pay for that. Forgets my name? She didn’t forget it when we were making love a few hours ago before she ditched me for the cold Denver air. Still, I started this game, so I have to play it to its conclusion.

  I reach my hand between us as if to shake her hand, and when she places hers in mine, I bring it to my lips, making sure to swipe my tongue across the back before she can yank it away again.

  “Taylor. Dr. Logan Taylor. Plastics. Sorry, again love. I truly don’t know what happened. If you need a check-up, legs more sore than usual at the end of the day, let me know. I’d be happy to give you an exam.”

  Emma licks her lips and rolls her eyes, exasperation coating her every feature. But I know her body inside and out by this point. She may be able to keep up the mask for the peanut gallery, but I can read the signs. Her breathing has gone shallow, and she’s clenching her knees together, probably because her pussy is dripping for me. Our eyes are locked, and I have to use the cover of my lab coat to hide my rock hard dick again.

  “Dr. Adams, pre-op is waiting for us.”

  And there he is, president of the block brigade throwing salt into my open wounds.

  “Yes, Logan. I mean, Dr.Taylor. The Peterson baby is awake as well. The parents are asking for you and probably hoping to sing your praises once more, not that your ego needs another boost. That’s what happens when you spend your days changing the lives of babies and children. But, you’ll get an up-close and personal view during your plastics rotation Dr. Michaels.”

  My favorite Barbie saddles up next to me and drapes her arm through mine. She bats her eyes at me like the sexpot I’m sure is hiding behind her no-nonsense, schoolmarm persona. I’m quickly losing the fight against the smile, trying to escape my face.

  Barbie faces the baby intern when she speaks again.

  “In the meantime, why don’t you head to pre-op and introduce yourself to the patient. I need to speak with Dr. Adams for a moment.”

  Barbie is almost twice my age, certainly old enough to be my mother, and at this moment, I want to put her on the counter and kiss her. Throughout her little speech, baby intern’s face contorts until it looks like he’s sucking on a lemon. Emma is having such a hard time holding her giggles; she’s got her hand over her mouth.

  As for me? I can’t help it if my ever impressive chest puffs out a little more after that. I mean, did you hear her? Changing the lives of our youngest generation!

  “I am pretty awesome, aren’t I?”

  Faster than lightning Barbie’s hand shoots out and smacks me upside the head.

  “Ow!”

  Okay, I deserve that.

  Still, she didn’t have to put so much oomph into it when she hit me. Is this the sort of abuse I get for being the favorite?

  As intern boy sulks in the direction of the pre-op ward, Emma loses the battle to contain her laughter and ends up bent over with one hand on her knees and one hand wiping her face.

  Since my preening is ruined by Barbs corporal punishment, I try to pick up where I left off, putting the moves on my girl. This time, she shuts me down herself.

  “Dr.Taylor.” Is it just me, or is it fucking sexy the way the heat laced her voice when she said my name? The long and elegant finger she sticks into my chest brings forth all sorts of images of other places she could shove her fingers. I’m getting ready to say so when my self-preservation instincts at last kick in. Looking at her, she may be slightly angry.

  She stabs me with her finger, and I find myself giving up the few spaces between me and the counter. When I’m effectively pinned, she hisses, “Payback is a bitch Dr.Taylor.”

  I’m not sure if the shivers that run through me are from fear or from being turned on. Maybe both.

  Without further ado, she gives one more hard shove with her finger, then stalks off in the direction her intern went.

  I let loose the breath I was holding, and I’m a little ashamed it comes out in an audible whooshing noise. I’m not some fresh faced newbie with his first crush after all. The ire of a woman, an incredibly gorgeous intoxicating woman, shouldn’t be enough to rattle my cage.

  Shaking out the jeebies, I turn my attention to Barbie, who's still standing there watching me with a humorous expression on her face.

  “Wow, Logan. That was �
�“

  “Impressive? Debonair? Charming? Adorable?”

  “Painful. Very, very painful. I thought you were supposed to be this smooth and elegant playboy? Makes the boys and girls alike swoon in your very presence. Yet you let one inexperienced intern throw you off your game so completely that you run your girl over in the hallway. I mean, wow.”

  I’m sure the stupefied stuttering I’m doing right now isn’t helping my cause any. In a move I’m almost painfully aware mimics, Emma, just a few minutes earlier, I snap the hair tie off of my wrist and yank my hair back into a knot.

  “I— But— I. What do you mean off my game? I hardly even noticed the annoying little cockblocker. I thought that was very smooth! I accomplished precisely what I wanted to. Also, she’s not my girl.”

  “Mmmm hmmm.”

  Barbie’s look of quiet disbelief makes me need to squirm again.

  “If your goal was to embarrass yourself while feeling my sister up in the middle of the hospital, then, oh yeah, you succeeded alright.”

  I close my eyes and pray for patience. If Darcy saw the whole thing, there’s a good chance Emma will never speak to me again. Whatever made me think this was a good idea? Barbie starts to laugh, and then the sound fades away. When I open my eyes again braced for battle with Darcy, I’m standing alone at the nurse's station — left to wallow in my failure. With a glance to gauge how many others witnessed my humiliation, I gather what dignity I have left and head out to take care of my patients.

  *******

  My payback comes less than twenty minutes later. I’m with my resident when my text alert for Emma goes off. He’s droning on about our next surgery. It’s more for his benefit than mine. I can do the procedure lefthanded and backward if I needed to. I don’t bother to excuse myself, he’s just a resident, and I reach into my pocket and swipe across the front of my phone.

  The choking sound that forces itself from my throat stops all conversation in the room. Ignoring the confused and concerned glances coming my way, I put my device flat to my chest then throw out a quick “excuse me,” as I hightail it out of the screening room. When I’m safe in a bathroom stall, I release the death grip I’ve got on my phone and angle it in front of my face. I’m surprised I didn’t bend the metal I was holding it so tight.