by K A Moll
Clara beamed. “Thank you, Doctor.”
Keegan resolved to mention the young nurse’s outstanding work to Dr. Broderick as she rode down on the elevator. She was pleased to find Nicole sitting in a chair. “How’s my favorite patient?” she asked.
“Better by the hour,” Nicole answered. “And more than ready to get these tubes out. They’re irritating.”
“I’ll take the NG out tomorrow,” Keegan responded, checking her monitor, “but the IV stays in.” She listened to her heart and examined her incision. “Everything looks good,” she reported, holding her hand out to Willow. “Ready, sweetheart?”
“You bet I am,” Willow answered, telling Nicole that they’d see her in the morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Oh my,” Willow gasped, stepping into their suite. It was elegant, having an open living room, a bedroom with a king-size bed, a wet bar, a bathroom with a mosaic floor, a hot tub, and gold-plated fixtures.
Keegan slipped her arms around her from behind. “Nice, huh?”
“Mmm, better than nice,” Willow answered, locking herself into the embrace. “You wouldn’t expect a hospital with financial problems to have a suite like this.”
“VIP guests, surgeons they hope to recruit.”
“Nice perk. I’ve never stayed in anything this fancy, not even on my honeymoon.”
Keegan sucked in air; her muscles as tight as a bowstring.
Willow turned, putting her arms around her neck. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.
“I’m fine,” Keegan answered, her upper lip curled. “I’m not usually jealous, but for some reason that caught me off guard, got to me.”
Willow furrowed her brow, releasing it. “My honeymoon. You were jealous of Charlie?”
Keegan nodded, her eyes widening. “Irrational, I know. I mean, you’re thirty-nine, you’ve had a life—”
Willow’s lips parted, peering into her eyes. “Oh, Keegan—”
Keegan choked the dizzying current that raced through her. “But it makes me crazy,” she continued, her breath hot against Willow’s ear, “disintegrates my self-control, when I think about someone else touching you.” She held Willow’s cheeks, kissing her with tenderness. “Because, see, in my head, you’ve always been mine. And I have no right to feel that way. I know that, but I do.”
“I am yours; I realize now that my heart has always been yours.” She fingered through Keegan’s short crop of hair. “No one has ever had what you have, Keegs. I want you—in me, around me, on me—I want to be yours.”
Keegan kissed her, backing her toward the bed, desire blazing in her eyes.
Willow caught her breath, startled by her intensity.
“Sorry,” Keegan said, inhaling deeply, and throttling down.
“No need to be. It wasn’t anything you did. It was me; my fear.” Willow laid her cheek against her chest, listening to her heartbeat. “I panicked. I was afraid I wouldn’t know what to do, would do something wrong.”
“There’s no right or wrong,” Keegan responded, stroking her hair, and holding her. “What turns one woman on, might turn another off. And so, we talk, we talk all the way through, teach one another about what feels good.”
Willow released a breath. “Okay, so that sounds easy enough.”
“It is,” Keegan answered, smiling tenderly, and kissing her. “You’ve got this. Really, you do.” They ordered dinner from the cafeteria and watched a straight romantic comedy, snuggling throughout, and kissing during commercials.
“So, what if the movie we just watched was about a lesbian couple, what would be different?”
“Other than the obvious,” Keegan answered, “that it would be a story about two women as opposed to a man and a woman, not much. I read a study once that said lesbian couples had better communication. But I don’t know if that’s true.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Willow responded, her eyes widening. “You wouldn’t need to be in a boy-girl relationship long to figure out that communication isn’t a boy’s long suit. At least I wasn’t.”
Keegan sucked in air, switched off the TV, and laid the remote on the coffee table—needing what she hadn’t needed for almost an entire day—a drink. “I should check on my patients.”
Willow’s gaze softened. “I did it again. I’m sorry.”
Keegan stood. “Nothing to be sorry about,” she said, moving toward the door. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She took a deep breath, stepping to the hall, and let it go. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Tell Nikki hi for me.”
“I will.”
*
Keegan pushed the button, summoning the elevator. She waited for what she thought was a reasonable period of time, and then took the stairs. Probably broken down between floors. Like the building, the equipment had most likely not been properly maintained. She looked in on her patients, reviewed their charts, and checked their monitors, pleased that both were doing well, and ecstatic that both were asleep. The last thing she needed was a conversation—, especially with Nikki. As a shark, she’d smell blood in the water, know that she’d done something. And the last thing she needed was to be pressured to discuss her stupidity. As she made her way down the hall, an internal battle raged. All day, you went all day without even thinking about it. And over nothing, hearing what you already knew, that Willow has slept with guys, you’re prepared to blow your moment of sobriety. Really? Really, you’re gonna do that? She hit the plate with her palm, opening the main door, walked down the block, and stepped into a tavern.
“What’ll you have?” the woman with shapely legs and too much makeup asked.
“Pendleton, neat if you have it.”
“Sorry we don’t. How about Jack Daniels?”
“That works,” Keegan said, tempted to order another before going back. She paused outside her suite door, pulling herself together. When she stepped in, she found Willow in a nightshirt, propped up in bed.
“Hi,” Willow said, putting down her book, and laying her glasses on the nightstand.
“Hi,” Keegan answered, sitting on the edge of the bed, and kissing her.
Willow drew her eyebrows together. “You’ve been drinking.” It was more of an observation than an invitation to argue. She’s not angry. Don’t overreact.
“I took a walk, had one before I came back,” Keegan admitted, her mind racing. Don’t say it. Wait. “I have a problem, Willow. I’m sure as a social worker, you already know that.”
Willow’s head tilted. “You’re upset. Are you mad at me? Are you mad because of what I said?”
“No, of course, not.”
“Then, what? What is it? What’s going on?”
“Maybe I figured out that you deserve better,” Keegan answered, unable to stop words that she couldn’t take back. “Maybe I don’t think you should have to deal with a drunk. Maybe I don’t think you should have to put up with childish behavior.”
“You’re not a drunk,” Willow said softly. “And there’s nothing wrong with the way you behave.”
“Matter of opinion.”
“Where’s this coming from, Keegan?”
“I just thought you needed to know,” Keegan said, turning away. “So, you can make an informed decision. You know, before we go any further.”
Willow reached for her, touched her arm. “Aww, sweetie, you’ve got yourself worked up into a lather. Come here, honey, talk to me.”
Keegan shook her head, averting eye contact. “I need to take a shower,” she said, stepping into the bathroom, and closing the door.
*
Keegan stripped, dropped her clothes in a pile, set the water temperature as hot as it would go, put her head down, and with her palms pressed against the ceramic tile, stood under the unrelenting spray of hot needles. She didn’t hear her come in; didn’t see the door move on its track; didn’t expect arms to come around her, soft flesh to press against her back.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Willow murmured, reaching around
to turn down the water temperature, holding her. “I’m right here.”
Keegan closed her eyes, allowing herself to be held. She wasn’t sure how much time passed before she turned to face Willow, unable to keep her gaze from lowering to take in her body—her satin-smooth shoulders—the swell of her rose-tipped breasts—the rounded curve of her hips. “God, you’re beautiful.” She gathered her into her arms, buried her nose in her hair. “I’m sorry about what happened. I don’t know what got into me. But whatever it was, I promise, I won’t let it happen again.”
“That’s not a promise I want you to make,” Willow answered, pressing her cheek against her chest. “What I want is your word that if you feel that way again, you’ll talk to me.”
Keegan nodded, soaping her hands, and rubbing them over Willow’s body—her bottom, her breasts, her thighs. When she brushed her thumb across her nipples, rock-hard and sensitive, Willow gasped, raking her nails up Keegan’s back and massaging her shoulders.
“I’ve loved these for so long,” Willow murmured, her gaze becoming unfocused as she stroked the length of Keegan’s fingers. “The hands of a surgeon, strong and steady.” She peered into her eyes, her voice lowering. “Make love to me, Keegan.”
“God, I love you,” Keegan responded, wondering if she could ever get enough of this woman, and realizing that she couldn’t, not in a million tomorrows. She led her to the bedroom, easing her down onto the pillow-soft mattress, and lifting onto her elbow, kissing her as she drew locks of her hair through her fingers. “In all these years,” she murmured, “I’ve never stopped wanting you.”
“Then, take me,” Willow answered, her hand coming feverishly into her hair, pulling her down, their tongues gliding together. “Take what’s yours.” She parted her knees, mewing softly as Keegan moved into position, licking, and suckling.
“Oh, my sweet Keegs,” she moaned, fingers sliding inside her, deeply and slowly, “welcome home.”
Keegan caught her breath, passion blazing in her core. She pulled out, pushed in, and pulled out, pushing in as deeply as she could go. And when Willow gripped the sheets, squeezing silky fabric between her fingers, she took her to the edge and beyond with her mouth.
*
Keegan awoke with Willow’s head on her shoulder. “Good morning.”
“Mmm…good morning,” Willow responded, lifting her head, and trailing kisses from her lips downward. “I think I’m still turned on.”
Keegan smiled, putting her hands behind her head. “Yes, I think you are,” she answered, sucking in air and holding it when she latched onto a nipple. On any other day, with any other woman, she’d have put that to a stop—rolled her over, given her one last orgasm, and gotten up. She’d never been someone who could allow herself to lose control, to be vulnerable.
“Mmm, such a handsome, tasty, morsel,” Willow murmured, stroking her abdomen, and exploring her navel with her tongue. “I love you, Keegs.”
“And I love you,” Keegan panted, lifting her pelvis and nudging her down.
Willow took her to the brink with her tongue, then eased up. Rinse and repeat, over and over.
“God, woman, I don’t know what you were worried about, you’re a natural.” Keegan licked her lips, catching her breath. “But this is kinda new territory for me. I’m not sure how much more I can take.” She closed her eyes, her head dropping back onto the pillow. “Come on, baby, take it home.”
And with that, Willow pushed inside her.
Keegan gasped, her brain on overload, having someone go where no one had gone before.
Willow stilled, meeting her gaze softly—knowing. When she pushed in again, she was so gentle, so incredibly gentle—and yet unyielding—pushing her to let go.
Keegan moved with her, opened for her. “God, I love you.”
“Mmm, and I love you,” Willow answered, stroking her length with each thrust, riding with her as she bucked and groaned, and closing her eyes as spasms rocked her, body and soul.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Are you ready?” Keegan asked, slipping on a pair of surgical gloves. The procedure was one that a nurse would typically do, but this was Nikki, and she wanted to do it.
“More than ready.”
“Okay, so remember, the calories you’ve been receiving through here still need to be consumed.”
“I’m sure if I slack off, you’ll ride hard.”
“Count on it.”
“So, is this gonna hurt?”
“It shouldn’t. Although you may experience a moment of discomfort.”
“Let’s do it.”
“Take a deep breath and hold it,” Keegan directed, kinking the NG tube, pulling gently and swiftly, and disposing of the items appropriately.
“And, while you’re at it, how about you take care of this?” Nicole asked, holding her arm in the air, her IV trailing.
“No can do,” Keegan responded. “That one needs to stay in until discharge, maybe a bit longer.” She washed her hands, asking Willow if she minded sitting tight while she ran up to check on her other patient.
“Not at all,” she answered, kissing her. “Take your time.”
*
“So, how are you?” Nicole asked. “You seem okay, but—”
Willow’s eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what she was talking about.
“Last night? Correct me if I’m wrong, but it was your first time sleeping with a woman, wasn’t it?”
Willow’s eyes widened. “You knew.”
“Of course, I knew. You’ve always been a terrible liar. Keegan is too, for that matter.”
“Why didn’t you call us on it? You never let things slide.”
“Because there was no reason to. That, and you obviously wanted me to believe you’d had sex. Oh, and more importantly, I felt like crap.”
“So, what makes you so sure we did it last night?”
“Because I have eyes, girl. Good grief, if you’re not kissing, you’re touching one another’s butt.” She shook her head, smiling. “Oh, good God, and now, you’re blushing.” Her tone softened. “Seriously, how are you?”
“I’m fine. We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”
“I’d say better than fine,” Nicole responded, her eyes narrowing, “except there’s something not quite right. You seem happy, and yet, not.”
Willow released a breath. “She’s a brilliant surgeon, Nikki, a woman who has more money than she knows what to do with. I live in the slums, save coins to buy Ripple his cat food. How do you see this working out in the long run?”
“I’d say that depends on how much you love her, how much she loves you.”
Willow shook her head, staring off at nothing. “Sometimes, love isn’t enough.”
“Is that right, Chicken Little? It’s not like you to look for the sky to fall.”
“I’m not looking for it,” Willow responded, her lower lip quivering, “I’m just trying to stay grounded, trying to be prepared in case it does.”
“Preparing for the day that Keegan decides that because you’re poor, you’re not good enough for her?”
Willow bit her lip, nodding.
“Good God, do you even know her? I haven’t slept with her, and even I know she’s not like that.”
“When I’m rational,” Willow said softly, “I know that too. You really like her, don’t you?”
“I do. She’s a good person.”
Willow sipped coffee.
Nicole sipped apple juice.
Willow broke the silence. “I’m worried about telling my parents and grandma.”
“Because you think they’ll give you a rough time?”
“Because I don’t know if they will.”
“Just lead with the rich surgeon part; you’ll be fine.”
“You really think my family’s that shallow?”
“Maybe not your grandma.”
“Should I come back?” Keegan asked, recognizing the tone of a serious conversation.
“No, of course not,
” Willow responded, reaching for her. “We were just talking about my family. I’ll bring you up to speed over lunch. How was your patient?”
“Much improved. Ready to be handed off to Dr. Broderick.”
“And, the train, do we know when it’s due to arrive?”
“Ten-ten tomorrow morning,” Keegan answered, slipping a strand of her hair through her fingers. “Hyrum offered to drive us to the station.”
“That’s nice,” Willow said, smiling softly. “He’s a nice man. I must admit I’m going to miss these people, this town.”
*
Hyrum rolled over wet gravel, coming to a stop as rain peppered his windshield.
“Thanks for everything,” Keegan said, turning in her seat, “the privileges, the VIP treatment, the ride to the station, all of it.” She met his gaze with a warm handshake.
“And, thank you for helping out,” he answered. “You’re a fine surgeon, calm and steady.”
Keegan swallowed, praying her mojo would still be with her upon her return to NYC General. “You’re too kind,” she responded.
Willow smiled, taking Hyrum’s hand. “Thank you so much for your hospitality,” she said, “and of course for your care of Nikki. I enjoyed being here, getting to know so many wonderful people.”
“You’ll have to come back for a visit,” he said.
“I’d like that,” Willow answered, raising her umbrella, and walking toward the train.
“Welcome aboard,” the conductor greeted, standing by as Keegan helped Nicole up the steps. “We’re so happy that everything turned out good.”
“As are we,” Keegan answered. “Same rooms, I assume?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the conductor responded, collecting the trio’s bags, and following their slow progression to their cabin.
Keegan placed a generous tip in his hand, stepping in. “Bed or chair?” she asked, one hand around Nicole’s back, and the other holding her hand.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Nicole responded, “but bed.”
