Dr Stanton

by T L Swan

  I need to find my old, witty self, and I need to find her quick.

  We all sit together in a group in the hospital cafeteria. There are six interns and the two doctors. Amber is taking center stage with her quirky sense of humor, and everyone is hanging on her every word. Dr. Stanton, however, seems to have fixed his attention firmly on me. But, once again, that could be all in my head because I think I’m becoming delusional. Even though I have no idea what’s going through that head of his, I do know he’s attracted to me. But then, maybe he keeps looking at me because he is trying to work out whether it really was me he met in Vegas?

  Maybe.

  The sexual tension between us is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

  It’s undeniable and I know he feels it, too.

  All week, sparks have been flying between us.

  “Oh, give me yours,” Steven says as he Facebook friend requests everyone in the group.

  I glance around the table to see everyone busily adding each other. Shit, this is why I have two accounts.

  “I’m Ashley T.” I smile. I hardly use this account and only have work friends on it.

  They all friend request me and to be polite. I go around the table and add everyone,

  “Do you have a Facebook account, Dr. Stanton and Dr. Jameson?” Amber asks.

  God, she’s so forward. It’s bloody embarrassing.

  They both shake their heads and I smirk. As if they would want to be friends with a bunch of interns.

  Dr. Jameson is the first to stand. “I have an appointment. Once again, welcome to our team. We are so happy with everyone so far.”

  The group all smile.

  “Oh.” Amber replies. “We’re going out tomorrow night for drinks. Do you want to come with your wife?”

  Dr. Jameson smiles. “Thank you for the invitation, but no. We’re unable to make it. My wife is heavily pregnant with our fourth child.”

  “Oh.” The group gush.

  He smiles, and with a courteous nod, he leaves the cafeteria.

  “Are you going to come, Dr. Stanton?” Amber asks.

  “Please, call me Cameron.”

  “Oh.” She lets out a fake laugh. “Cameron is such a nice name,” she gushes and I feel myself cringe. Just shut up, stupid.

  “Who is going?” he asks as his eyes flicker to me.

  “We all are.”

  His eyes hold mine. “Sure. Why not?”

  Shit. Over my dead body is Amber getting her claws into him. This day is getting worse by the minute.

  What would I wear if I did go?

  “Tomorrow morning, Ashley, I’m going over to the children’s hospital. You will be coming with me,” Cameron suddenly tells me.

  “Oh.” I smile. That’s exciting. “Okay.”

  He sips his coffee, and as I watch him, I practically melt in my chair. “Do you want me to meet you there?” I ask nervously.

  “No, you can come in my car.” I bet I could. “If that’s alright?” he adds.

  “Of course.” I smile. “Shall I meet you here?”

  He nods. “Yes, I will pick you up by the front doors at 7am.”

  I smile hopefully. “Okay, great.” I glance at my watch. “I have to go.”

  Ambers face falls. “Where are you going? We don’t have to be back for another twenty minutes.”

  “Oh. Erm.” I pause, because I know I sound like a weirdo. “I just wanted to read to Gloria for a little bit.”

  The group all laugh and I feel silly. I glance over at Cameron and his eyes have that sexy glow in them again.

  “See you later.”

  It’s 10pm and I am in bed with a book that I just can’t get into. The room is dimly lit. Everyone is asleep. I’ve been tossing and turning, wondering if I’ve done the right thing by not ‘fessing up to having a child. I lied in my enrollment form for my job, and now it seems like I’m going to get caught. What is the punishment for this sort of thing? Is it really so bad if I don’t tell them for a week or two that I have a child? If I tell Cameron now he will just see me as someone’s mother. He will always see me as someone’s mother. I want him to get to know me for me first.

  I know he’s attracted to me. I can feel it. But I also know he’s not the type of guy to take on a woman with a kid.

  He hates kids. God, why did he say that? How can anyone hate kids?

  Maybe I could just leave it for a week before I tell him. A week won’t hurt in the grand scheme of things.

  Will it?

  I pick up my phone and scroll through Facebook as I think. I click onto the other account that I gave them today and scroll through a few of their pages. I smile when I look through Amber’s page. She is wearing hardly anything in any of her pictures.

  A message pops up and I click on it.

  Hello

  I frown and click on the name. Mechanic.

  I smirk as my heart rate picks up, and I quickly click on the profile picture—a picture of an Aston Martin. A white one, though. His is black.

  Is it him?

  Fuck.

  I message back.

  Hello

  I hold my breath as I wait for a reply. Oh my God. Is this him? I wait for a moment and message again.

  Do I know you?

  A message bounces back immediately.

  I don’t know. Do you?

  My eyes widen. Oh my God. It is him… isn’t it? I sit up in bed, suddenly wide-awake.

  A message comes in.

  I can’t stop thinking ab

  out you.

  My smile grows as my heart starts to somersault in my chest, and I stand and wave my arms around in the air in excitement. Oh my God, it’s him.

  I think for a moment. What will I write? What will I write? Shit.

  I text back my reply.

  Why?

  I hit send and then scrunch up my face. Oh hell, that was lame. Why did I write that?

  He responds.

  Why is grass green?

  I smile, knowing this is a test.

  Grass produces a bright pigment called chlorophyll. Chlorophyll absorbs blue light and red light, but mostly reflects green light, which accounts for its color.

  Are you going to continue to answer my questions with rhetorical questions?

  I bite my bottom lip and wait for his reply.

  There she is.

  I smile broadly as my heart rate picks up.

  I type back.

  When you think of me, what do you think about?

  I wait and an answer bounces straight back.

  I want to know how you taste.

  My eyebrows rise. Holy fuck. That is a great answer. I respond.

  And?

  An answer comes back.

  I want your taste on my tongue.

  I frown as I feel my arousal start to rise.

  Holy fuck.

  Are you still tight?

  My eyes widen and I walk into my bathroom to stare at myself in the mirror. Is this really happening? I eventually go back into the bedroom and type a response with shaky fingers. I’m just going to give it to him straight. Oh man. I hope I’m talking to the right guy here?

  You have no idea.

  I haven’t had sex in two years.

  There’s no response straight away. Oh no. Why did I say that? Finally, after about five minutes, a message bounces back.

  You sure know how to drive a man insane.

  I’m so fucking hard right now.

  Holy crap. I’m about to have a heart attack here. I message him back.

  Where are you?

  What are you doing?

  A response bounces straight back.

  I’m naked, in bed.

  On my back with my legs spread.

  My hard cock in my hand.

  My eyes widen and I hear Owie call out from the other room. Ah, damn it!

  I quickly reply.

  Lucky hand!

  I put my phone down and quickly walk up the hall to Owie’s room to see he is tossing
and turning in bed. “Are you okay, baby?” I ask.

  “I feel sick.” He sighs.

  “You had too much ice cream.” I sit with him for a moment until he settles. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Go back to sleep now,” I whisper as I tuck him back in.

  He rolls over and closes his eyes, and I sprint back up the hall to my phone to read his latest message.

  Touch yourself.

  Oh hell. He wants a sexting orgasm. Fuck, so do I. I smile deviously as I message him back.

  I’ve been touching myself every night thinking about you.

  I want the real thing…

  A response bounces back immediately.

  Fucking hell!

  Get your ass over here now!

  9

  Oh god, I wish…

  I can’t.

  He answers.

  I’m coming to you.

  What’s your address?

  “Mom,” Owie calls from his bedroom. Oh, fucking hell.

  Perfect timing.

  I throw my phone down and run up the hall just in time to see Owen vomit all over his bed.

  “Oh, baby.”

  He starts to cry as he vomits again. I pick him up and carry him into the bathroom.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

  He cries.

  “It’s alright. It’s just a vomiting bug or something. You will be okay.” I take off his clothes and put him under the shower. He finally settles and now I’ve got to go clean the sheets.

  So much for my sexting session.

  Arousal level… instant zero.

  Cameron

  I sit at my desk as I roll the pen between my fingers. It’s 6am and I’m at the hospital early. No use me staying in bed. I can’t fucking sleep anyway.

  I jacked off three times last night and still I can’t stop thinking about her now.

  What’s it going to take to rid myself of this uncontrollable urge to have Ashley Tucker beneath me?

  Why did she disappear last night? I thought we were getting somewhere and then… gone.

  Maybe I’m reading this all wrong? Maybe it isn’t her? I stare into space for a while as I try to gain some perspective on the situation. I blow out a deep breath because there is no perspective.

  This is just fucked up.

  She’s my intern. I’m her boss and I have the uncontrollable urge to bend her over every hard surface in the hospital. I rub my eyes and shake my head. Jameson walks past the office and glances in, and then doubles back.

  “Hey, you’re in early?” He smiles.

  “Morning. I had some reports to get done.”

  “Do you want a coffee? I’m going down now.”

  “Yeah, that would be great. How’s Hanna?” I ask.

  “She’s good. Any day, I think. She’s due on Thursday.”

  I smirk. “Four kids, man.”

  “Fuck, don’t remind me. I feel old enough as it is.”

  He narrows his eyes and I get the feeling he has something to say, so I raise an eyebrow in question.

  “Can I ask you something… off the record?” he asks.

  I nod. “Of course.” He glances around and then shuts the office door.

  What’s this about?

  He takes a seat and hesitates for a moment “So… what’s the deal with Ashley Tucker?”

  I frown. Fuck. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  I shake my head and sit up, acting guilty while perching on my chair. “No, Ashley and I are strictly business.”

  His knowing eyes hold mine and my stomach drops with more guilt. He knows I’m lying though my teeth. “You do know our whole professional image depends on how you handle these interns.”

  I bite my bottom lip to stop myself saying something I’ll regret.

  “The board is watching. Fuck around with the nurses all you want Cameron, but don’t touch the interns.”

  I nod once, annoyed that I’m being pulled in line for the first time ever.

  He stands and smiles. “I knew you would agree with me on this.”

  Half an hour later, I’m at the entrance of the hospital, watching her standing out on the curb as she waits for me.

  Her thick, honey blonde hair hangs around her shoulders and she’s wearing a black dress with heels with stockings. My eyes scan her body and I feel myself harden. She’s on her phone while she waits for me to pick her up.

  She’s breathtaking.

  Whenever I see her, I have this overwhelming urge to wrap her in my arms.

  What is this connection?

  Why can’t I stop thinking about her for even a minute?

  I need to get a fucking handle on it right now.

  Ashley

  I wait nervously on the curb of the hospital for my ride to the children’s hospital. I glance down at myself in my black dress. I’m as nervous as hell. It was two hours before I got Owen settled last night, and when I finally got back to my sexter, he wasn’t online—obviously pissed, thinking I had ditched him.

  God, what a mess. My life is like a bad sitcom.

  “The car is this way,” a voice mumbles from behind me.

  Huh?

  I turn to see Cameron walking past me with his briefcase in his hand. What the hell? I follow him through the parking lot, but he doesn’t say a word. My heart hammers in my chest. His car beeps as he opens it and we climb into the low luxury seats.

  “Hello.” I smile nervously.

  He checks the mirrors as I watch him. Isn’t he going to say anything to me at all?

  “Hello,” he replies emotionlessly as he pulls out into the traffic.

  He has his playboy sunglasses on and a dark charcoal suit with a crisp, light blue shirt and tie. His dark hair is messy perfection, and his day old growth is darkening his square jaw.

  This man is the epitome of gorgeous. The way he smells. The way he looks. His mind. His beautiful, filthy mind.

  I watch him.

  His eyes stay glued to the road in front.

  “Thanks for picking me up.”

  He continues to drive and I turn to watch the road in front of us with my mind in overdrive. Was that even him messaging me last night?

  What if it wasn’t?

  “Did you have a nice night?” I ask nervously.

  He glances over at me. “I did.” He raises a brow and I can tell he’s pissed off.

  It was him!

  “Did you?” he asks.

  I clasp my hands so tight in my lap. “It started out well, but my Internet dropped out and it didn’t come back on until this morning,” I lie.

  His eyes meet mine and he lifts his chin defiantly, as if not believing it for a minute.

  I wonder did he go out last night after we spoke. For all I know he could have been at the Escape Lounge fucking some model all night.

  Stop it!

  His phone rings, connecting through the Bluetooth of the car. “Hello, Cameron Stanton,” he answers.

  “Hello, Dr. Stanton. This is Pauline from Pediatric records at the children’s hospital.”

  “Hello, Pauline.”

  “Sorry to bother you, sir. We have a small problem.”

  He exhales. “What’s that?”

  “We have a new staff member and, unfortunately, when she was scanning the reports into the patient files, the latest report you did for Sasha Mills is not in there, and we’re unable to locate the original one.”

  He rolls his eyes. “That’s fine. I will call in and resend it over to you.”

  “Thank you. I just knew you wouldn’t be happy if it wasn’t here when you arrive.”

  “Thank you for your call.” He hangs up.

  He drives for a minute more and then turns abruptly. “We just have to make a quick detour.”

  “Okay.”

  He flies down the road and we sit in silence. I’m not sure what to say and he is clearly ignoring me. Finally, he pulls into a swanky suburb and pushes a code into a gated community secur
ity gate. The doors swing open and I frown. “Are we going to your office?” I ask.

  “My office in my house.”

  My eyes widen. He lives here? We turn a few corners down a long road, and he pulls into a large driveway with huge gates. He pushes another security code in and the gates swing open to reveal the most horrifying thing I think I have ever seen.

  He’s rich.

  This house is a mansion—like, an over the top mansion. He pulls up in the circular driveway. “Can you come in for just a minute?”

  I nod, distracted by the luxury I’m surrounded by. “Is this your house?” I whisper.

  “Yes,” he answers as he climbs out of the car and opens the front door with his fingerprint in some space-age key system. I get out of the car and slowly walk up the front steps as my eyes stare up at the high ceilings.

  “I won’t be a minute,” he calls out from a room up the hall. “Actually, can you put the coffee machine on and I will make us one?”

  “Okay,” I whisper as I look around. I don’t even know where the kitchen is.

  “Kitchen is toward the back wing,” he calls, as if reading my mind.

  “Okay.” I walk down a grand hallway to find the kitchen and my jaw nearly hits the floor. Beautiful and spotless—not a dirty cup or dish in sight. I look around as I feel my dread start to creep in. This is the most beautiful house I have ever been in, and the cleanest.