by Isabel Love
“And now you’re the director of the department? Doesn’t that take…years of experience to qualify for? You look so young.”
“I almost didn’t apply for the position because I never thought they would hire me so soon after my fellowship. I hadn’t even been staff for a year yet, but I’ve been dedicated to this hospital from the start of my career and I guess they liked my visions for the department.” She shrugs, downplaying her achievements.
“That’s amazing.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it,” she admits, biting her lip.
“You don’t like being the director?” I ask.
“It just…a really big job. Everyone is always challenging my decisions because I’m the youngest director the ER has ever had, not to mention the fact that I’m five foot nothing and all the other staff tower over me.” She sighs and looks exhausted all of a sudden.
“Well I’m impressed, and your parents must be so proud of you.” This does not cheer her up like I thought it would.
“What about you?” she deflects. “You seem older than most of the new grads from nursing school.”
“I had to work part-time while attending school, so it took me twice as long to finish. But, I finished, and that’s what counts.”
“You’re doing a really great job, Max. The department is lucky to have you.”
“Thank you.” Why am I disappointed she said the department is lucky to have me? I finish my water and check the time. “Should we head back?” She agrees and falls into step next to me. I feel the warmth of her arm as it brushes against mine and my fingers itch to slip into hers.
“Is your head okay?” I ask her.
“It’s fine, honestly,” she insists. “How about yours?”
“I don’t know.” I nudge her shoulder. “I might need a doctor to look me over,” I tease, giving her my most charming smile.
She casts a sideways look at me and smiles. “Dr. Rosetti is probably free.” She laughs at my fallen expression and the sound warms my insides. Making her laugh may have just become my favorite pastime.
Piece of cake.
Monica
“Dr. Morgan, I need your help in room three,” Max says into my ear. I follow him into the room to discover it’s empty.
I turn around to ask him what he needs and find him standing so close, the curtain drawn on the entrance to the room. As I meet his gaze, he reaches for my waist, pulling me flush against him. “I need you,” he says quietly before lowering his mouth to mine. The kiss is frenzied, both of us finally giving in to the pent-up sexual chemistry between us. His hands lower to my ass and he grabs me hard, his grip strong.
I melt into him, whimpering. His hands feel so good on me.
“Shhh, you need to be quiet.” He nods to the curtain separating us from the rest of the staff.
“Don’t stop, I’ll be quiet,” I beg.
“I need to taste you.”
Oh, God. He bends me over the exam table and pulls my scrub pants and underwear midway down my thighs. I spread my legs as far as my pants will allow and he pulls my cheeks apart. His frantic touch makes me yearn to feel his tongue on my skin, and my pussy is dripping wet with desire. He’s crouched down behind me, so close I can feel his breath on my sex, but he isn’t doing anything.
“Please.”
“You have the prettiest pussy.”
This makes me flush with embarrassment. No one has ever looked at me from this angle, let alone talked about my pussy.
Then I feel his tongue, wet and warm, giving me long swipes from my clit all the way up to my asshole. I clench, not used to anyone licking there.
“Stay still,” he commands. “Relax and let me make you feel good.”
I stop resisting and let him lick me. It does feel good. Dirty. Desperate. My hands find purchase on the end of the exam bed and I push myself back into his face, searching for more friction. He latches onto my clit, sucking and pulling. Fuck. I am a trembling, wanton mess of desire. Then I feel his fingers, one on my pussy, one on my asshole. Oh, God. He continues to work my clit with his tongue while his fingers rub my most intimate places.
“Yessss.” I moan, feeling my orgasm approach.
“Shhhh,” he reminds me again. At this point I don’t care who hears me; I’m desperate to come.
One more flick of his tongue against my clit and I do just that, my core clenching, eyes squeezing shut. Oh, God. I relax onto the bed, shudders continuing to escape me as he licks me down from my orgasm.
He stands behind me and I hear a rustle of clothing. Then I feel his cock between my ass cheeks, rubbing along my crease. The sound of his shaft moving through my wetness is audible, and all of a sudden, I’m no longer sated. I need his cock inside me.
He seems to read my mind because he pushes into me from behind, folding his upper body over me, covering me. I moan loudly as I get used to his size stretching me full. His hands find my hands, holding them down on the table, and his face rests next to mine.
“This is going to be fast,” he warns me.
“Please.” I only seem to be capable of begging.
Then he starts to move with hard, fast pumps, all the way in, then almost all the way out. His cock drags against all the sensitive areas in my pussy. It’s so wet from his tongue and my desire that he is slick, sliding in and out without trouble. The wet sounds of us fucking are so obscene, but they ratchet up my arousal. I push back into him, meeting his thrusts, loving the feel of him inside of me. His breath stutters next to my ear and I can tell he’s close. I want him to come, to feel him lose control.
Sensation overwhelms me and I feel another orgasm start to build.
“You like me fucking you?” he asks.
I nod frantically.
“You want me to come inside you?”
“Yes. Please.” He reaches a finger down in between my legs and begins to rub my clit as he pounds into me, and that’s all it takes to push me over the edge. I’m coming so hard, my sex clenches around his cock and I feel him start to pulse inside me.
God yes.
I wake suddenly from my erotic dream, slick with sweat. My heart is beating frantically and my clit is throbbing in time with my pulse. That dream felt so real, I can almost still feel Max inside me. The clock reads 2:57 AM and I groan; it’s too early to wake up. I try to slow my breaths but my body is too revved up. I need to come.
I shift in bed, throwing off the comforter. The cool air feels good and my nipples pebble. I lift my nightgown up and pinch and pull at them, imagining Max’s fingers there. His touch would be firm and sure. This feels good, but my clit needs real relief. I drag my underwear down and kick them aside. Spreading my legs wide, I touch myself. Yes. I remember Max’s tongue on my pussy in my dream and I begin to rub, collecting the wetness pooling at my entrance and spreading it up and over my clit. Mmmm.
I close my eyes and imagine Max looking up at me from between my legs, his intense blue eyes holding my gaze as his tongue devours me. I shift my hand down, push two fingers inside, and keep my thumb on my clit, rubbing and pumping. My hips start to buck up, a response I can’t even control. I pinch my nipple with my other hand as I finger myself. Yesss. My orgasm takes over and I’m coming, pussy spasming around my fingers, back arching off the bed. Fuck. I lay there panting, spent.
When I’m able to move again, I go to the bathroom, wash my hands, and splash some cold water on my face. The mirror shows me my reflection. My face is flushed, my pupils dilated. My hair is messy from sleep, and my nipples are poking through the thin fabric of my nightgown.
I look…sexy.
“Who are you?” I ask myself.
I can’t remember the last time I had such a vivid sex dream or masturbated, but being around Max lately has awoken my body. I feel like I’m in a constant state of arousal, and it’s becoming difficult to stay away from him. You are his boss, I remind myself. But not his direct boss. I sigh. Wh
at does that matter? There’s no loophole that would make it appropriate for me to date a nurse on my floor. Do I even want to date him? Or just have sex with him? Both are off limits and may cost me my job.
The bed is cool when I lay back down. I sigh and close my eyes, hoping to get a couple more hours of sleep. I have to go to work and see Max again. I have to act like I didn’t have a dream about him fucking my brains out then masturbate to thoughts of said dream.
Piece of cake.
Max
Our “fresh start” talk went a long way to dispel awkwardness between Monica and me. She’s been less jumpy and generally treating me just like she treats all the other nurses, but something is different today. I feel her gaze on me. She looks at me like she’s hungry, and it’s making me hungry, too. My skin feels too tight, my clothes too constrictive.
I steer my thoughts away from Monica so I can pay attention to Kevin. “Can you repeat that?”
“We have to do quality checks on the supplies in this cabinet weekly to make sure nothing is expired.” He points to the cabinet above the counter. “Can you take down all the supplies and review the date they were opened? I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.” I reach up and start pulling everything off the shelf, systematically finding the item, reviewing the date marked on each container, and initialing the corresponding line on the checklist. I hear Monica’s voice just on the other side of the counter and my body becomes…aware of her proximity. The urge to get closer is hard to ignore, but I need to finish what I’m doing. I reach way up, straining to get the last bottle all the way in the back of the cabinet. The cool air tickles my lower belly as my shirt rides up, exposing my skin, and then I feel it. I feel her gaze on me, and it makes me hot.
Once I reach the bottle, I set it on the counter and see her across from me, her eyes lingering on my stomach. She notices I’ve stopped moving, meets my eyes, and her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink. I smile slowly, enjoying the fact that she is checking me out.
“Hey Dr. Morgan,” I chirp. “How’s your day going?”
She swallows. “It’s okay. How are you, Max?”
“I’m good. Feeling a bit hungry, though,” I tell her, meaningfully.
She rubs her stomach, not catching my double entendre. “I’m starving, too. I never seem to be able to stop for lunch.”
“You need to take time to feed yourself,” I say seriously.
“I know, but tell that to the patients. We seem to be on a never-ending loop today.” She blows her hair out of her face.
“I’m done here. Need any help?” I offer.
“No, that’s okay. Thank you, though.”
“Well, just let me know if you need me.” I wink and can’t resist the urge to step into her personal space and inhale as I walk behind her to go find Kevin. I hear her breath stutter as I move close.
I go on my lunch break, scarf down a sandwich, and buy an extra one. Monica’s office is on the way back from the cafeteria to the ER, so I stop by on my way. Her door is ajar and I knock softly, peeking through the crack. She’s on the phone but motions me in, so I hold up the sandwich and place it on her desk. She looks up, surprised, but the voice on the other end of the line steals her attention. I give her a wink and leave, not wanting to interrupt her phone call.
Monica
It’s a slow Tuesday afternoon in the ER, so I’m catching up on my charts. Max is behind me at the nurse’s station, an area with computers and monitors for all of the patient rooms where the nurses sit to chart and keep an eye on things. He’s working with Julie tonight and they have been talking about relationships. How do I know this? I’ve been eavesdropping, of course. My body is just…tuned into where he is and my ears just…pick up what he’s saying. His voice is smooth and deep.
“How old are you, anyway?” I hear Julie ask. Good question.
“I’m 25,” he answers. Seven years younger than me—way too young for me. I start typing again, reprimanding myself for even caring what the age difference between us is.
“Is this your first nursing job, or did you work somewhere else as a new grad?” Julie asks him.
“No, this is my first nursing job. I just graduated and passed my boards a couple months ago. I had to work part-time and go to school part-time, so it took me longer to graduate than most.” I breathe out a sigh of relief that he gave the same answer to Julie as he did to me. Honesty is important.
“That’s impressive,” Julie compliments. “Do you have a girlfriend?” My ears perk at this inquiry and I can’t help but want to hear the answer. I don’t think he has a girlfriend, but I stop typing so I can hear better.
“No. With work and school, I didn’t really have the time for a relationship,” he replies.
“And now that you’re working full time and done with school, are you looking for a girlfriend?” Julie probes. Another good question, Julie. I must compliment her on her pretty earrings later.
“I think the best things happen when you aren’t looking for them,” he says. I like that answer.
“Well, I have a friend who is single and I’d love to set you up with her.” Bad Julie! No compliments for you! I start to cough and choke on nothing. Damn, I am so obvious.
“You okay, Dr. Morgan?” Max asks.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m just going to go get some water.” I stand up and head to the break room. Once inside, I lean back against the door and sigh. The thought of Julie setting Max up with her friend shouldn’t bother me. He isn’t mine, but I can’t deny that I wish he were.
Ever since our “fresh start” last week, we have been talking more—about work topics, of course, completely professional.
Even so, my body has gone haywire. I’m charged and restless…and horny. Any time he’s around, I sneak glances at his body, and his wink at me the other day tells me I’m not being as discreet as I should. He totally knows I’m attracted to him.
Not only am I attracted to how he looks, I also love how he acts, especially with patients. He is confident and calm, despite his lack of experience. Even when chaos erupts, he remains levelheaded and makes the patient feel safe. His height, strength, and masculinity go a long way to take charge and calm everyone down, an important quality in an emergency room.
The more I get to know him, the more I’m attracted to him, and there is nothing I can do about it.
As I pour a cup of water, the door to the break room opens and Max walks in. He comes over to the cooler and stands next to me. “You okay?” he asks me again.
I smile at him. “Yes, Max. I’m fine.” I take a sip of water and set it down on the table.
“I’m not going to go out with her, you know,” he tells me.
“With who?” I give him my most innocent look.
“Julie’s friend. I know you were listening.”
I blush, busted. “What gave me away?”
“You stopped typing whenever I was talking, not to mention you were on the same patient’s chart for at least 20 minutes. I know it doesn’t take you that long to chart your notes on one patient.”
“How do you know that? Maybe it was a long note, or maybe I charted on five patients.”
“Because I watch you too, you know,” he says quietly, his blue eyes looking straight into mine. This is a dangerous turn in the conversation, but I want to know more.
“You do?” I whisper, searching his face. I’m desperate to know that my attraction to him is not one-sided.
“I do. Patient charting takes you five minutes per patient, tops. You get the cutest wrinkle in your forehead when you’re reviewing test results, and you bite your lower lip when you’re thinking.”
“I do not.” The mention of this makes me bite said lip.
“You do.” He reaches over and touches it. I have this crazy urge to bite his finger, but miraculously, I don’t. My breath stutters and I’m so aware of how close he is standing to me. My lip tingles where he touched it and I lick my lips; he notices and stares at my mouth. My h
eartbeat is speeding up and I step closer to him. His eyes blaze and he clenches his jaw, studying me.
“Dr. Morgan.” It’s a warning and a plea.
“Monica,” I correct.
“Monica.” He swallows. “Do you ever think about it?”
I know exactly what he’s talking about—the way he touched me that night, how good it felt. “We shouldn’t talk about this.” My voice is too breathy to be convincing.
“Do you feel it?” He steps closer to me, his chest rapidly rising and falling with each breath. “Tell me you feel it too.”
“We shouldn't,” I protest weakly.
“That isn’t what I asked you.” He’s so close to me now, I can feel his breath on my face. “Do you feel what I feel?”
“What do you feel?”
“Like my body comes to life when you walk into the room.” My mouth goes dry at his admission. “Monica? Do you feel it too?”
“Yes.” I nod, reluctantly. He lays his hand on the back of my neck, his fingers underneath my ponytail, and his thumb strokes the side of my throat, by my pulse. My eyes close at his touch and I’m on the verge of begging him to touch me more.
“I know I promised you I wouldn’t kiss you again…”
“You did.”
“I need you to let me break that promise, and I need you to not fire me if I do, because…I really want to kiss you right now.”
There it is. I need to tell him we can’t, that it’s inappropriate for us to do this for so many reasons—we work together, I’m the director of the department, I’m older than him, and we are currently on the clock. He’ll back away if I tell him to; I know he will. But he may never try to get this close to me again if I turn him down, and that thought leaves me feeling cold.
