Untouchable (Unexpected Love Book 1)

by Isabel Love

  “What’s so funny?” I smile down at her. Her face is pink from the chilly night, her eyes are bright, and she’s smiling. She looks so vibrant right now. “Don’t you like my kisses?”

  “I like your kisses very much, Max.”

  “Goodnight, Monica.”

  “Goodnight, Max.”

  With that, I pull back and open up her car door. Once she climbs inside, I close the door and step back, staying put until she pulls away from the street. Then I make my way back to my bike and just stare at it. She’s driving a car that probably cost more than I make in a year, and I’m driving a bicycle. I sigh, feeling a bit inadequate. On my next day off, I’m going to the car dealership to buy a car.

  But Thursday—Thursday I’m seeing Monica. Excitement courses through me as I pedal home, happy about the unexpected turn things took today. This morning we were still skirting around each other, trying to maintain professional boundaries.

  My dick twitches at the thought of getting very unprofessional with Dr. Monica Morgan.

  It’s my blowup doll.

  Monica

  Dr. Rosetti is working with me today, and I envy the easy way he jokes with the staff. I find myself trying to be serious and professional so they respect my decisions, but Tony, on the other hand, brings in donuts and plays jokes on everyone. Because of this, the staff members are always polite with me, but they love joking with Tony. I try not to let it bother me. My father always says it’s more important to be respected by the people that work on your team than to be liked, but I want them to like me too. Ugh. I feel like a teenager these days—horny and revved up because of Max, an uncool loner because of my leadership role and the impossible standards I place on myself.

  Right now, for example, Tony is in the break room, inflating a blowup doll—and not just any blowup doll, but one that has an erect penis. Julie is laughing her ass off while covering the door to make sure none of the patients can see what’s happening, and one of the residents was sent to go find some white lotion or soap that could pass for semen. Apparently, Tony has decided to prank Max today.

  Two months ago, I would have broken up this prank party. I mean, sending a resident to find something that can be mistaken for a bodily fluid is not exactly an educational task. I would have promptly told Tony to put the doll away and told everyone to get back to work.

  Today, however, I kind of want to join in.

  Tony is assigning duties. “Julie, what name do you think is better: Rod Stiffington or Mike Oxlong?”

  “I think Mike Oxlong this time,” Julie says with a giggle.

  “Perfect, can you write it on the patient board?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Devon, did you find any lotion or soap?” Tony asks the resident.

  “Yes, I found some soap in the storage room.”

  “Excellent. Now can you go get an exam bed with some sheets? Wheel it on in here.”

  “On it.” Devon is acting as if he will be graded on this assignment.

  Tony finishes blowing up the doll and chuckles to himself.

  “How exactly is this going to work?” I ask him.

  “I’m going to put the doll on the bed, cover it up with a sheet, and put the lotion around the tent. Then I’m going to play the sound of a guy masturbating from my phone and send Max in to check on the patient.”

  “You’re going to play pornographic audio from your phone?” Wow, that’s taking it a bit far.

  “Quietly, don’t worry. It’s totally dead right now,” he reminds me.

  I close my eyes and struggle not to tell him this is a bad idea. Don’t be a stick in the mud, Monica. “And the name Mike Oxlong won’t tip him off?” I ask doubtfully.

  “I can totally say it with a straight face.”

  “What do you want me to do?” I ask.

  Tony’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “You want in? I’m shocked.”

  “Why not?” I ask. “How about if I ask him to check on the patient? He’ll never expect it from me.”

  “Excellent.”

  Devon brings the exam bed to the break room then Tony loads up the doll and drapes the sheet over top. The doll’s erection tents the sheet and he pours soap over the crotch, making it look like the sheet is wet with ejaculate. Then he texts Kevin, asking him to keep Max out of the patient room area. Once we get the all clear, we wheel the bed into one of the empty rooms. Tony pulls out his cell and brings up a video of a man masturbating, and sounds of slick skin rubbing, moaning, and groaning fill the room, but not too loud. He tucks the phone under the pillow on the bed. I blush at the sounds and step out of the room, checking the hall. My heart is beating out of my chest at the thought of someone on the board of directors or a patient walking by right now.

  Tony goes to sit at the nurse’s station and pages Max, the standard way to let a nurse know they have a patient if they aren’t within earshot.

  I clear my throat, square my shoulders, and put my game face on. Seated next to Tony, I pull up my last patient’s chart, scrolling through my notes to look busy.

  Max and Kevin stroll down the hall and stop in front of us. “What do we have?” Kevin asks us nonchalantly.

  “I’m not sure on the details. Max, can you triage for us?” I look at Max.

  “Of course, Dr. Morgan.”

  He heads over to the room and knocks on the wall next to the curtain. “Mr. Oxlong?” he reads from the patient board. “I’m Max, one of the nurses. Can I come in?” He pulls the curtain aside and sticks his head in. Then he shuts it quickly and steps back, looking over at us. We all divert our attention, trying hard not to look in his direction or laugh. Tony snorts quietly and I almost start laughing. Almost. Above the monitor, I can see Max lean his head toward the curtain and try to figure out if the “patient” is really masturbating. He looks back at us and scratches the back of his neck.

  “Mr. Oxlong? Mike?” Max knocks again. “Can I come in?” After he doesn’t get a response, he opens the curtain and peeks his head in the door. He shuts it quickly and comes back over to the counter, blowing out a breath.

  “What’s going on, Max?” I am so proud of my straight face.

  “Ummm…” He hesitates, looking at me and Tony.

  “What’s the matter?” Kevin asks.

  “I think he needs a minute,” Max says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Well,” he hedges, not wanting to say it. “I think…” He looks up at me, at a loss for words.

  “Is he hurt? Bleeding? I didn’t see him come in.” I should get an award for this performance.

  “No, no, nothing like that.” Max swallows, trying to be tactful.

  “Do you need me to go check on him?” I stand up.

  “No, Dr. Morgan, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Max steps in front of me to block my way to the door.

  “Max, I assure you, I’ve seen it all.” My voice is so professional, haughty even.

  “Well, I don’t doubt that, but this patient is masturbating in there,” he says under his breath.

  I widen my eyes, feigning surprise. “What? You’re sure?”

  He nods. “What do you want me to do? Give him a minute or tell him to stop?”

  I look to the room, then look back up to Max. We have completely fooled him, and he’s clearly nervous about not handling this the right way.

  “We can’t just leave him to finish masturbating in there. I think you should tell him to stop. This is inappropriate.” I cross my arms.

  “Okay. Here I go.” He heads back down to the room and stops in front of the room. “Mike, it’s me, Max, again,” he announces. “I’m coming in the room, okay sir?” Tony is starting to lose it—his shoulders shake and silent laughter wheezes out of him.

  Max pulls the curtain aside and steps in the room. We all stop pretending and stand right in front of the counter, waiting for Max’s reaction.

  “What the—?” Max exclaims.

  Then we all lose it. Tony’s laughter is
loud, Kevin is busting up, and I’m right there with them.

  Max pulls the curtain all the way open and starts laughing, too. “That was a good one. Mike Oxlong—how did I not realize?” He bends over laughing, clutching his knees.

  “Mr. Oxlong, I’m coming in sir!” Tony mimics Max’s professional voice and that triggers another round of laughter from all of us.

  “I have to say, Dr. Morgan’s involvement totally threw me off.” Max looks at me, wiping tears from his eyes. “I was told you are not usually in on the pranks around here.”

  “Oh, she usually isn’t,” Tony agrees, still chuckling.

  Max’s eyes sparkle at me with mirth and I’m dying to touch him, even just to lay my hand on his arm. My body buzzes with energy.

  “Well, I give her an A-plus,” Max says.

  “I must agree,” Kevin says.

  “Don’t give her all the credit,” Tony says. “It’s my blowup doll.”

  “Your porn, too,” I remind him. “Go shut that off.”

  “Yes, oh lord director, as you wish.” He bows exaggeratedly and heads into the room to turn off his cell. We all go in to clean up and get rid of the evidence.

  It feels good to be a part of this. Max catches my eye and gives me the best smile. My insides clench at the thought of our date tonight. Six o’clock can’t come soon enough.

  Max

  The ER buzzes with laughter for the rest of my shift. I have a feeling I’m not going to live down ‘Mike Oxlong’ for a while. It was pretty hilarious. Kevin warned me about practical jokes, but I was on the lookout for Dr. Rosetti, not Monica. Ever since I started here, I’ve noticed how the staff seem to think of Monica as rigid, ultra-professional, and so serious. Having met her the way I did, I know there is more to her than that. That sexy, carefree goddess at the club is hiding under this stiff exterior.

  Now that she was a part of the practical joke, everyone looks at her in a new light. They’re actually including her in jokes instead of clamming up when she walks by. She looks different, too—happier, lighter somehow.

  I just want to pull her into the closet and kiss her senseless. My hands itch to touch her. One more hour and then we will be done with work and I get her to myself tonight. I pull out my phone to text her.

  Me: We’re still on for tonight, right?

  Monica: Yes, what are we doing?

  On short notice, I couldn’t plan anything too fancy, and though I want to respect her wishes and go slow, I also want my hands on her. On my way to work yesterday, I found a place two blocks away that gives dance lessons, and I figured that would be the most socially acceptable way to touch her in public. Plus, we met at a club, and I loved watching her body move. There is no way she can dance like that and not enjoy dancing. I’m hoping she likes this idea.

  Me: Did you bring a change of clothes or do you need to go home?

  Monica: I have clothes with me.

  Me: Excellent. I’ll meet you at your office at 6:15.

  Monica: Okay. Won’t you tell me what we’re doing?

  Me: First, I’m going to feed you.

  Monica: So far so good. And second?

  Me: It’s a surprise.

  Monica: Can you give me a hint?

  Me: It involves me touching you, and you touching me.

  This is technically true. I pocket my phone and see her at a computer station across the way. She looks up at me and blushes. Yep, she is totally thinking about touching me.

  Kevin approaches me, smiling. “Rosetti got you good. Consider yourself an official member of the ER.”

  A laugh escapes me. “I wasn’t official before?”

  “Nah. It takes humiliation to become part of this gang.” We laugh. “I’m still impressed by Dr. Morgan, though. I’ve worked in this ER a long time and this is the first time she has joined in on a practical joke instead of breaking it up. You must be special.”

  “Or maybe she’s been a practical jokester all along and is finally comfortable enough in her role to join in on the fun. It has to be tough to be such a young director.” I can’t help trying to defend her and deflect Kevin’s thoughts away from me being special to Monica.

  “You’re right. I never really thought of it that way. It was nice to see that side of her today.”

  “I must agree,” I say honestly. “What needs to be done before the end of our shift?” There’s no way I want to be late tonight.

  The end of a shift is always a bit chaotic as the next shift of nurses starts 30 minutes before we leave so we can give report. After stopping by to see each of my patients one last time and reviewing all of them with the next nurse, I go to the locker room to get my things. The hospital provides the scrubs and launders them for us so I freshen up, get changed, and drop the dirty scrubs in one of the hampers.

  On my way to Monica’s office, I take a deep breath. I’m not nervous, just extremely excited. My watch reads 6:10, so I slow my pace. Her office is a bit farther away from the ER than I would expect, but she is the director, and it’s a nice size. As I approach, I hear a male voice inside. Feeling strangely possessive, I speed up the pace, no longer caring if I’m early.

  “You look lovely tonight, Monica,” the man says. He has a thick Indian accent.

  “Thank you, Dr. Patel,” Monica says.

  “Do you have a date tonight?”

  She hesitates. “Uhh, I’m going out with a friend. What are you up to tonight?”

  “I was going to see if I could interest you in joining me for dinner.” Oh, hell no. I need to get in there.

  I knock loudly on the door.

  “Come in,” Monica says quickly. I walk inside and find an older Indian man standing in front of Monica’s desk. She stands quickly and smiles at the sight of me. This makes me feel better, and I smile in return.

  “Max, meet Dr. Patel. Dr. Patel, this is Max Spencer.”

  “Hi, Dr. Patel, nice to meet you.” I give him a firm handshake. Kind brown eyes meet mine, and he smiles widely back at me. It is difficult not to notice the large nose taking up a considerable portion of real estate on his face and the sour body odor that wafts my way as he moves his arm up and down while shaking my hand.

  “Ahh, Max, is it? I’m so glad to see Monica is going out tonight. I keep telling her those frozen dinners are not good for her. I hope you are taking her someplace nice.”

  “I will make sure she gets a proper dinner,” I tell him. This seems safe enough, but I know Monica doesn’t want anyone at work to think we’re dating, so I’m torn between making my intentions known and downplaying my interest. I look to Monica for guidance.

  She collects her purse and stands. “Are you ready, Max?” she asks me.

  “Yes, should we go?” I’m still nervous to say the wrong thing in front of Dr. Patel, and the sooner we get out of here, the better.

  “Have a nice night, Dr. Patel. See you next week.”

  “Good night, Monica and Max.” Dr. Patel waves us off. “You young people need to go have some fun and stop working so much.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir.” I nod to him on our way out of the office and we walk side by side down the long corridor.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” I tell Monica.

  “I’m glad you did. Poor Dr. Patel asks me out on a regular basis. He means well, and he is the kindest person, but…it’s just not there.”

  “He seems really nice, though.”

  “That’s the thing, he’s so kind. When I was a student here, I worked with him during one of my clinical rotations. He was such a huge help to me and really believed in me. I’m not sure I’d be where I am now without his encouragement and support.”

  “It’s good to have people like him in your corner.”

  “Yes, it is.” She turns and smiles at me. “Enough about Dr. Patel. Where are you taking me?”

  I welcome the subject change. “There’s this Mexican restaurant I have been meaning to try since I moved. Every time I pass it, the food smell
s so good. Do you like Mexican food?”

  “Do you mean Que Pasa?” she asks.

  “Yes, have you been there?” I hope I haven’t picked a dump.

  “I love that place! It’s one of my favorite places to eat around here.”

  “Well, great.” I smile. We reach the doors to exit the hospital and she turns toward the parking garage. “How about if we walk? It’s only five minutes from here and it’s such a nice night,” I suggest. Evenings in July are perfect for walking outside—there’s that, and the fact that I don’t have a car. The places I chose for tonight are within walking distance; I don’t want to admit to her that I don’t have a car if I can get away with it.

  “Sure. Finding a parking spot would probably take longer than it would for us to walk there anyway,” she agrees. We walk in comfortable silence for a minute. Then I hear her start to chuckle.

  I look over at her and she starts laughing out loud. “What?” I reach up to wipe my mouth, then nose. “Do I have something on my face?”

  “Just thinking about Mike Oxlong.” She covers her mouth with her hand to try to stifle her giggles.

  “You’re pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?” I ask.

  “I kind of am,” she admits.

  “I’m kind of proud of you, too.”

  So.

  Monica

  The aroma of delicious food surrounds us before we actually get to Que Pasa, and my stomach growls loudly.

  “It smells so good, I can’t wait to try one of everything,” Max comments as we walk up to the door.

  Luna greets us at the hostess stand. “Hola, Monica!”

  “Hi, Luna.”

  “I see you brought a friend with you tonight. Will you guys be joining us for dinner?” she asks me. I look at Max.

  “Yes, we have a reservation for two under Max Spencer,” he tells her.

  “Perfecto. Come right this way to your table.” She grabs two menus and leads us to the dining room. The restaurant is divided into two main sections: a large bar with loud music and a handful of high-top tables surrounding it, and a dining room with quieter Latin music playing in the background. She brings us two glasses of water and bowls of chips with salsa then leaves us to look over the menu.