I shake my head. The sound of the ER’s constant static surrounds me. My heart beats heavily in my chest as I try to focus. This isn’t me. I’m order, I’m synchronized perfection. I check the tracking board one more time… nothing.
“Dr. Larkin, did you order that bag of potassium? It’s not in the patient’s chart?” The small nurse, who works only on Mondays, stares at me with curiosity.
I take a quick look at her badge. Melanie. “It should be.” It isn’t, I forgot to write the damn order. Bailey… her name shouldn’t cause such a physical reaction, shouldn’t cloud my thoughts like it has. “I’ll double check. But go ahead, hang the potassium. If it’s not in her chart, I’ll write it.” The nurse walks away, and I scrub my palm down my face.
I decide in that moment it’s done. Bailey is done. I can’t do this to myself. I don’t even know her. I have no clue who she is. Who cares if she has the fullest lips I’ve ever seen and all I want is to have them wrapped around my cock and on my lips. I want to taste everything she has to offer. Her sweet dimples appearing just for me. Those tight thighs spread open, her pussy wet and ready. The ache I felt just thinking about how it would feel to have my dick deep down her throat—her eyes watering and her moans… Damn, I’d take each one as mine. My pulse is pounding with just the thought of her. I clear my throat and rinse my brain of her memory. I recite my favorite line of the Hippocratic Oath in my head. When I became a doctor, I had it tattooed on my ribcage so I’d always remember.
“In purity and according to divine law will I carry out my life and my art… nil nocere” Do no harm.
Lusting after a patient isn’t part of the plan. It’s wrong on so many levels.
Walking back to the nurses station, I grab the chart I should’ve written the order in earlier. The efficient nurse’s handwriting is scrawled across the paper. I sign my name underneath the order and read it twice to make sure the dosage is correct. I check my watch. My shift ends in thirty minutes, and I debate leaving early.
Miles walks past me and laughs at something on his phone. “Hey, you care if I get started on my dictation so I can get out of here a bit early?” I ask. He shouldn’t care. I’m here late all the time for this asshole.
“Not at all.” He barely takes a second to look up from his phone as he answers me. His fingers type furiously on the screen.
As I place the chart in the rack, I glance around the room. A calm fills my lungs as I remember why I work as hard as I do. This is what I’ve always wanted. At the end of the day, I’m my own man, my own keeper… everything I have is mine. I heal. I control the outcome of certain destinies. I’m my own personal god.
“Dr. Larkin. A Ms. Evans is here to see you? She said you placed her stitches. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to just remove—”
“Bring her to room four.” I interrupt Jennifer before she has a chance to finish. My mouth goes dry, and everything I just thought of doing to Bailey goes through my head like a freight train.
“Do no harm.”
“Fine.” Her tone is curt.
Taking off my white coat, I hang it on the coat hook by my computer. I amble to the supply cabinet, my mind racing, my lungs pulling in air at record speed, as I try, without success, to calm the fuck down. I grab a suture removal kit, gauze, and some antibiotic ointment just in case it hasn’t healed. My filthy brain is churning out scenario after scenario as I walk with hurried steps to room four. Outside the door, I take three huge breaths. “Do no harm, Cole. Carry out your life, your art… I’m my own god,” I whisper these words four times before I knock on the door. One… two… three… Each time the flesh of my knuckle hits the door, my breathing eases.
“Ms. Evans?” My tone is professional… even.
“That’s me.” Her voice is full of warmth. I won’t let my eyes meet those gorgeous green gems. I lay the supplies on the metal work tray. I nod in her direction, not giving her eye contact.
“I’m just going to say this now…” I can hear her smile. My back, still facing her, stiffens. “I’m so embarrassed. I don’t usually drink that much… or fall for that matter, especially on sharp objects. Dancing in heels while intoxicated, should be illegal… ” She laughs a short nervous giggle, and I can’t help the smile on my face. Her rambling is fucking adorable. “…what I’m trying to say, sir, is that I’m quite responsible really, and—”
Sir…
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. You’re lucky… I’m not very judgmental, Bailey.” Her name falls easily from my mouth. My body, too eager to turn, does so of its own accord.
“Not too judgmental? Is that so, Dr. Larkin?” She smiles as my eyes meet hers. They’re just as green as I remember. She’s wearing a low-cut tank top, her ample cleavage on full display. It takes everything in my power not to let my gaze linger there. Her hair falls over one shoulder in dark brown waves. My jaw clenches as I take in her spectacular tanned legs. They dangle over the exam table, and her skirt looks soft and sits just above her knees. I bite my cheek, suppressing my chuckle as I take in her overly worn converse.
“Please call me Cole.” I gulp as Bailey’s smile widens.
“Okay.” Her lips spread even wider and her dimples deepen. “So… I would’ve done this myself, but I didn’t have the equipment.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. It’s important to make sure it’s healed first. I’m going to take a look.”
She nods in agreement as I move toward her. She slowly lifts her skirt, and my heart is a sledgehammer again. She spreads her legs to give me a better view of the sutures, and I pray to whoever could possibly be listening that I can focus. I can tell right away that the wound has healed enough. “Looks really good.” I swallow as I turn to grab the equipment.
“I’m glad, they were starting to bug me. I still can’t believe this even happened,” she says as I turn and smile at her again. “Should I lay down or just—”
“No, stay just as you are.” The command in my tone makes her blush. Her chest begins to rise and fall as I roll my chair to the table. Sitting between those fucking tempting legs, I get to work. I need to hear her voice again. Her breathing is the only thing filling the small space between us, and the nervous energy sets my jaw on edge. Her skin is puckered with goose bumps, and I can smell her arousal. It’s making my mouth water as I work.
“Do you like being a doctor, Cole?”
Her question sounds timid. I pause and look up at her. Her smirk is small and she bites the inside of her cheek.
“I do.” I like how my name sounds in her voice. That blush I’m so desperate for is there, as I let the heat of my gaze linger longer than I should. Releasing her from my stare, I snip the last stitch and let my fingertips trace the newly healed skin. “Do you like—” I stop and laugh, realizing I don’t know what she does for a living.
Bailey’s smile wavers, and her eyes cast down. “I actually just got my RN. It’s funny, really…” She takes a deep breath and lets her eyes search my face—she seems nervous. “…I actually start my new job, here, on the Women and Newborn Unit in three days.” Her gaze locks on mine, pinning me in place as she speaks.
Holy shit… there’s no way in hell this can be happening.
I’ve been killing myself, obsessing over this chick, this patient, for a week… and now she’ll be here… in this hospital… working.
I don’t fuck patients or co-workers for that matter, but there’s something about Bailey. My physical reaction to her—the way her body gives me subtle hints that she wants me too—it’s driving me to the brink. I wet my lips in order to speak. “That’s quite an achievement, congratulations.”
“Thank you.” The quiet power she holds over me builds. “Do you generally remove stitches without gloves, or is that just for me?”
My pulse rushes through my body, filling me with heat as my hand rests on her thigh. I know I should move it. I know my thumb shouldn’t be moving in slow circles along her plush skin, but her lips part with a needy exhale, givin
g me permission. I don’t speak as I push the fabric of her skirt further up her thighs. Testing her. She bites the side of her plump as fuck bottom lip, and it’s all the permission I need. My dick strains against the zipper of my slacks as I stand.
Her breathing increases with mine, my hands now resting on either side of her bare thighs. Our eyes watch each other, holding the stare, feeling that fucking torturous pull. My fingers trail along her inner thighs, and my thumb dips just under the seam of her black lace panties. “Do you always wear these, or just for me?”
She gasps as my thumb passes over her clit. She’s soaking wet, and all I want to do is taste her—her mouth, her skin, this perfectly primed pussy. “Cole.” The plea is a whisper that hangs in the air between us causing it to spark and burn.
“Fuck,” I groan as my hands find purchase on her waist and pull her body flush with mine. Her legs wrap around me as our mouths crash and meld together. Bailey’s hands move eagerly up my chest until her arms are around my neck. Seven days of pent up fucking frustration is pouring into this kiss. She moans into my mouth as my tongue licks across the seam of her lips. She tastes like cinnamon, and I can’t find the will to stop. Her teeth drag across my bottom lip and I growl. I need more. She rolls her hips, seeking friction as she rubs her pussy against me. My hand cups her breast, kneading the flesh, and my thumb brushes against her nipple as I move my way up her body. Without hesitation, I pull the strap of her tank top down, savoring her skin, before finally letting my fingers fist in her hair as I claim her mouth again. Her sighs ignite me further, each sound pulling me farther away from that precious control I crave.
The overhead intercom blares as the operator calls a Code Cardiac Alert. The announcement bringing me back to reality, and I hurriedly push away from this decadent sin.
Her face is full-blown rosé; a small smirk lazily pulls across her face. “That was—”
“A mistake.” Everything I do, every bit of who I am is screaming at me, calling me a damn idiot. Dry humping a patient… a fucking co-worker on an exam table.
What the fuck, Cole?
“A mistake?” Her grin falls as she pushes the fabric of her skirt down and pulls the strap of her tank top back over her shoulder. “You’re an asshole.” Her eyes meet mine, the glassy green barely holding back her emotion. My stomach turns, but this is for the best. I can’t do shit like this, this isn’t okay.
“This… should not have happened. I apologize. I mean I—”
“Don’t even say it.” She grabs her bag in a rush and hops down from the table.
“Bailey, listen—”
“It’s Ms. Evans.” She turns on her heel and opens the exam room door, but pauses in the doorway. For a split second, I want to tell her to wait. I want to let her know I messed up, that I want her… that I need her, but I know it’s not right. Everything that happened was against every rule I’ve made for myself. No matter how good she felt or how much I wanted to be buried deep between those thighs, it’s wrong, and I can’t… shouldn’t crave this… her.
She walks away without another word. My chest fills with guilt, with shame.
What the fuck did I just do?
I walk through the door looking down the hall. She’s gone. I drop my head and take a deep breath. The war in my mind rages. My body wants me to seek her out, to finish what we started. My heart rattles heavy in my chest, and my cock is painfully hard. My brain, the one organ I should listen to, is telling me to walk away and to wake the fuck up. But then I feel her mouth on mine, I lick her cinnamon taste from my lips, and my mind loses its battle. Grabbing her chart from the door, I flip through the pages until I find the demographics sheet. Her address, her phone number, everything I need to get what I want is right here in front of me.
I place the chart on the counter and pull my phone from my pocket adding her number to my contacts. It takes me over an hour and a half to finish up the documentation I need to do before I can leave for the day. I try and race through my dictation of her suture removal, my last piece of work, only to keep stumbling as I remember the slick feel of her need on my thumb. Once I’m in my car, the music plays quietly from my stereo as I tap out a text. I hope I haven’t fucked this up beyond repair. Bailey Evans is too tempting, and my rationale is if I just have her once, I can take what I want and move on, I’ll be okay.
Me: Can we start over? Cole
The scorching heat of his hands lingers against my thighs as I drive back to my apartment. The way his brown eyes watched me, it was as if he thought I’d disappear before him. When he walked into that exam room, his tall, broad, impressively strong frame ate up the space like he owned it. He’s more than handsome. Drunk Bailey needs to get her memories straight. She cheated me out of serious man candy for a week. But, it doesn’t matter how gorgeous he is, or that his upper lip is just the right amount of full, or that he tasted like peppermint, or that his five o’clock shadow burned me in the best of ways… nope, not at all, because he’s a giant prick.
Never date a doctor. My father’s infidelities taught me that. Never ever date, make-out with, or enjoy making out with a doctor, let alone one you will be working in the same building with. That’s a whole lot of levels of crazy. At first, I thought I imagined it, but he had been flirting with me. When his bare fingertips touched my skin, I thought I was losing my mind, and the feeling of his skin on mine felt too incredible. Men always go for Trace; she’s the hot one. She’s the one who has seductive interludes in back alleys, not me. Dry humping strange men isn’t really my thing. Luckily, my drive home isn’t too long, and I can promptly get started on the bottle of wine I’m going to need in order to forget what it felt like to kiss Dr. Cole Larkin.
I grab my bag and fish my keys from the inner depths. I inwardly cringe as I have a flashback of me shamelessly grinding my hips against his. Oh hell, Bailey. I shake my head as I turn the key in the door. The smell of autumn hits me, and I smile. The apple pie scented candle I have sitting on the electric candle warmer fills my apartment with what a home should smell like. I place my bag and keys on the sideboard table and slip off my gray chucks. My place finally feels like a home should.
I don’t have much. I have my stereo, my bed, my coffee colored oversized sofa, my small flat screen television, my half-moon dinette, and my bookshelf. I have three floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with all my favorites. It’s sort of obnoxious compared to the rest of my decorations, but I don’t care… reading is life. I grab the remote to my stereo from the breakfast bar and turn it on. Lana Del Ray plays quietly, and I let out a long sigh. I shouldn’t be this despondent over some guy I just met. But that kiss… his mouth demanded mine. His large hands practically wrapped around my entire waist. I’d never felt so desired, so utterly taken. I close my eyes and try to remember that slight smell of cologne. His aftershave still remains on my skin, my lips. I bring my hand to my mouth; the sting of his scruff is still there.
“Why did he have to say it was a mistake?” I speak aloud to no one. Talking to myself like a freak. A giggle bubbles from my lips, but then my eyes start to fill with tears and, for some stupid reason, I’m crying. I’m standing in the middle of my apartment, listening to sad music, crying like a spinster cat lady. No way.
I wipe at my tears and switch the playlist to something more upbeat and crank up the volume. I lay the remote on the counter and decide on a shower. That’s exactly what I will do. I’ll wash myself clean of Dr. Larkin, and after that, I’d do what I do best. Dinner, Austen, and red wine. Fuck it.
Cleaning up a dinner for one doesn’t take very long, and now the events of the day are starting to set in. Maybe he was right? I’m just starting at Valley, the last thing I need is a complicated affair with a doctor. Who knows? He could be married, have a girlfriend… the asshat probably has a wife and three kids. I didn’t notice a ring, but that never stopped my dad. I clear the lump from my throat. My dad’s infidelities always seemed to dictate my romantic life. I never trusted a guy for more than a few d
ates. The minute things started to get serious I bowed out respectfully. I never wanted to be like my mom. Cold and bitter. It’s better to cut your losses before you get hurt. It sucks to be only twenty-three with this kind of attitude, but I’ve never really been interested in boyfriends for most my life. I didn’t need anyone but me.
I place the last dish on the drying rack and dry my hands. My phone nearly vibrates off the counter, and I drop the towel in order to catch it.
Opening the lock screen, my chest tightens.
Unknown: Can we start over? Cole
The smart girl, the girl who had a 3.8 GPA, says hell no. No… no… no. But, didn’t I get my own place, start my own life so I could live it, and have an adventure? Saying “yes” didn’t mean I couldn’t say “no” eventually… like always.
Me: Maybe.
His response is immediate, and I smile.
Cole: I can work with maybe.
I type back quickly before I lose my nerve.
Me: I bet you can. ;)
A winky face, Bailey? Quit trying so hard.
Cole: Can I take you to dinner?
Me: Are you married? Girlfriend?
Cole: No… Why? Are you?
Me: I might have already had a hot dinner date.
I smirk and chew nervously at my bottom lip, waiting for his response.
Cole: That’s too bad.
Me: Why’s that?
His next response is fast and makes my cheeks burn all the way up to my ear lobes.
Cole: I’m sure he didn’t get you as wet as I did today.
Cole: Let me take you for a drink?
I look over at my almost empty bottle of wine. I’m standing here in Valley University boxers and my old Utah Jazz T-shirt.
Me: Not tonight.
Cole: Too late.
Too late? Is he asking if it’s too late, or telling me it’s now or never? Shit. I don’t know how to respond. Just as I’m about to type a text, a loud knock on my door almost makes me drop my phone. My stomach flips and my heart goes full speed ahead as I walk to the front door. It could just be Trace; she drops by all the time. But I have a feeling… that when I open this door, tall, dark, and tempting will be standing there.
Pressure (Valley Hospital Series Book 1) Page 2
