Pressure (Valley Hospital Series Book 1)

by Bryant, Lillian

  “Fuck yes, Bailey.” Her moans, the familiar pulse of her body around my dick… she’s almost there. “Making you come, feeling your climax… your body, it’s giving itself over to me.” Her legs begin to shake as her orgasm builds. Each thrust I get closer to that end, that overwhelming destruction only she coaxes out of me. “Each time you come for me… it’s the only time I feel in control with you.”

  Bailey brings her mouth to mine and grinds her hips, urging my release. I let go; my loud groan erupts from my throat before I can suppress it. My jaw is tense as my body shudders inside her. My teeth drag across her bottom lip before I lick my tongue along the seam of her mouth. Our lips move lazily together, while my hands brace the back of her head, and my fingers tangle in her hair. I rock inside her one last time, and her entire body quakes.

  “Trauma one, level one trauma.” The operator’s voice over the intercom brings me back down to reality in a vicious pull.

  “Shit, you need to go.” I ease her legs down and separate from her, pulling my shit together faster than I thought possible. Her dress is still disheveled as she quickly combs through the knots in her hair with her fingers. Her cheeks are pink and her chin is red from my stubble. “I have to work. I’m the doc on the trauma team tonight. This is life and death shit, Bailey.” I didn’t mean for it to sound as rude as it did, but, it’s too late, she’s looking at me with hurt filled eyes.

  She nods. “I know… I’ll still see you later tonight?” Her worried tone is killing me. It’s not like her.

  “I’m sorry, okay? I need to work. I’ll come by right after, though.” I lean down and give her a brief kiss. I don’t have time for pleasantries, but I know my abrupt departure is messing with her. “Tonight, Bailey, I promise.” I place another peck on her cheek trying to reassure her.

  “Okay.” Her smile is small, but I’ll take it as a victory.

  “You know the way out.” I turn and leave trying to put away all thoughts of her. I’m an asshole leaving her like this, but I have no idea what’s waiting for me in the ambulance bay. I need to get my head back in the game.

  “Clear,” I call out before I place the paddles on the fifty-five-year-old male’s chest. Another motor vehicle accident.

  By the time I got to trauma room one, they were already working on him. The paramedic rattled off vitals, giving me a full report, and for some reason I wasn’t able to focus. Bailey showing up here at work… it has me shaken. This is my one place, the one place I hold all control, the one place she hadn’t yet tainted… until tonight. From the moment I stepped into this room, my focus faltered. I couldn’t remember an everyday fucking procedure. My dick was still buried nine inches deep, and my head was still filled with her scent and the taste of cinnamon. At one point, the House Supervisor asked me for orders, and I stood there like a goddamn idiot. And now… now this fucker was dying, and it’s my fault.

  “Clear,” I call again, and the room fills with the steady beep. The heart monitor showing a rhythm, I exhale a thankful breath.

  The nurse that’s bagging him, giving him precious oxygen, looks at me and narrows her eyes. “What’s the plan?”

  I can’t look at her. Instead, I speak to the nurse charting all that we’ve done. “Page Dr. Miles.”

  “I’m right here.” He’s incredulous. “Go take a breather, man.”

  It feels as if the entire room is staring at me. This isn’t me. I don’t fuck up. My choice to lose control with her tonight almost killed someone. I shake my head and drop the paddles onto the AED machine. As I pull the curtain back and enter the noisy main pod of the ER, I feel, for the first time ever, like a failure. I know this is all my fault, and I can’t help but blame her, too. We’d met and I stupidly took the bait. We fucking burned right through each other, and she consumed every rational thought I had.

  She’d once said this isn’t normal.

  She was right.

  It isn’t, and it needs to end.

  My unhealthy obsession with her—my need to own each breath, each thought, each piece of her—it’s sick, and I can’t handle it. I want my life back. I want to make my thoughts my own again. She can’t reside here anymore.

  The rest of my shift dragged on, but now I’m finally finishing the last bit of dictation I need to complete in order to go home.

  “Dr. Larkin, I need to see you in my office before you go.” The Chief of Medicine clears his throat as I look up from my computer.

  “Dr. Boggs.” I nod. “I’m actually just finished, let me grab my things and I’ll follow you there.” I attempt a smile even though the lump in my throat is growing. He looks pissed. His lips in a firm line, he watches as I grab my bag.

  We walk without words to his office. He holds out his hand for me to enter, and when the door shuts behind me, I know I’m in deep.

  “Have a seat, Dr. Larkin.” He sits behind his desk and eyes me. “Want to tell me what happened today? Dr. Miles seems to think you have your head up your ass these days. Said you couldn’t run a simple MVA.”

  Miles is a cocksucker. My jaw pulses and my molars clench.

  “What’s going on with you? You’re one of my best physicians. Miles said your girlfriend was here, that you took her back to the on-call room? Come on, Cole. You’re not some damn rookie! Sexual relations on the clock alone is cause for dismissal, but apparently how you handled yourself on a simple motor vehicle accident—”

  “It wasn’t simple,” I interrupt. “The guy was bleeding internally. I was trying to get him stable enough for the OR.” Even though I’m attempting to defend my actions, I know I fucked up tonight. That patient should have been stabilized and in the OR sooner.

  “Look. You’ve never messed up before. Your file, it’s impeccable.” He straightens his tie and clears his throat. “You’re suspended for a week. Figure out your life, and please, keep your dick in your pants at work. What you do on your own time, it’s not my business. But sex, in the on-call room, this isn’t a fucking TV show, Cole. Have some self-control.”

  His words ring in my head. Control is all I’ve ever known, and she’s taken that from me. This suspension… I’m lucky; I could’ve been fired. “Yes, sir. It’ll never happen again.”

  “Otherwise, you can find another ER to work in.” His eyes drop to the paperwork on his desk. “See you in a week, doctor.”

  His dismissal stings. This man is my boss, and I’d let him down, let my patient down… he almost died. “Do No Harm” The quote runs through my brain as I walk to my car.

  Self-control… the words guide my hand as I drive to Bailey’s apartment. I can see now how I’ve let her take over. There isn’t a rational explanation for why I’d allow something like this to happen. She’s more than I was ever prepared for, I won’t lie to myself. Bailey brought out that inner animal I’d pushed back for so long. But, our time together… it’s run its course, and tonight was the proverbial last straw.

  The guilt starts to eat me alive as I pull in front of her apartment. Breaking things off, it isn’t what I want, but it’s the only way I can live. It doesn’t matter how happy she makes me, or how I will deal when she’s no longer lingering on my lips, or how my place will feel empty without her. I’ve let her in too deep, and now I have to let her go. I knock on her door, and it opens with a swift breeze.

  Her smile breaks my heart. “Hey.” She steps out of the way inviting me in. Part of me wants to end it fast, here, in the doorway. But, I’m not that selfish.

  The door shuts with a click. “Bailey.” Her smile falls as she turns and takes in my serious expression. “I can’t stay. This-this thing between you and me, it’s too… I just came by, because I thought you deserved—”

  “Why are you doing this?” Her cheeks pale as the realization of what I’m about to do hits her.

  “I’m ten years older than you. My life isn’t this crazy whirlwind.” I swallow, and the crease between her eyebrows deepens. She crosses her arms over her chest in a protective stance. “I don’t… I
mean, I shouldn’t have ever—”

  “Fucked me.” The acidic tone sets my teeth on edge. “You thought you’d just use me for a few months? You selfish asshole! You’ve probably got someone else, don’t you? You doctors are all alike.”

  “No, no that’s not it. Tonight someone almost died. And it’s our fault! I could have lost my job, everything I’ve fucking worked for my whole goddamn life.”

  She gasps and a tear falls from her eye. “W-what?” She stutters as her lips begin to quiver. I want to still them with mine, but I can’t. “The trauma?”

  I nod.

  “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come to your work, but that doesn’t mean—”

  “I’m fucking suspended for a week, Bailey. A goddamn week.” My tone is harsh, and her tears start to fall harder. I want to tell her that I’m just being crazy, that I need her in every capacity. But that rapid beat of my heart is a reminder of what she does to me, and as my mind clears, I can see straight again, so I make my choice.

  “This isn’t what I want in my life right now. You make me feel…you make me feel—”

  “Just fucking spit it out, Cole.”

  “You make me feel, and I can’t afford that. I deal with life and death every day. I can’t afford the heat you’ve poured into my veins. When you’re around, when you’re not, it controls me. You make it hard to think, breathe, sleep, eat. It’s not right.”

  She steps toward me, and I take a step back. “But it is. How can it not be? It’s not wrong to feel… it’s not wrong to want… it’s not wrong to love.” Her voice cracks on the last word.

  “I don’t love you, Bailey.” The truth is, I don’t know what I’m feeling. She makes everything chaotic, and I can’t tell if I want to fuck her or marry her. Even though she’s everything I need. What I need will ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for.

  “Then leave.” Her fingertips wipe the tears from under her eyes. I don’t move. In that second, I almost change my mind. Her heart is breaking in front of me, my hand the hammer, but this is what needs to happen.

  She’s poison.

  “Fucking leave!” She screams and the sound of her broken voice about does me in. Her chest is heaving, and her eyes are spilling over with tears. “Just leave.” She whispers in a plea and her gaze drops to the floor. I do as she asks, and once I’m in the hallway, nothing but a solid wall separating her from me… I linger. Remembering this… remembering how I broke this girl.

  I let this memory bleed into my retinas so I’ll never let this happen again.

  The morning sun is just poking above the top of the mountains as I walk out of the hospital doors after my shift. Last night was one of the worst nights I’ve worked at Valley. I had three mothers hemorrhage and a baby that tanked and ended up in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. All my patients survived, thank God, but I’m just so tired I can’t even care about anything right now. I’m numb. It’s how I’ve been since Cole left. I avoid everything about him; every place we ever went together is off my radar. It’s been a month and I’m still feeling cut open, and every time I see the fine, thin scar on my inner thigh, I cry. I fucking cry because no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop myself from thinking about him, caring about him, wanting him.

  It’s like he never existed, like those perfect few months were just a fantasy that I made up in my head. Trace and Becca have pretty much given up on me. I never really leave my apartment because something inevitably reminds me of him, and then my chest gets tight and my throat starts to hurt from holding back the tears that I know shouldn’t still be falling. I’ve picked up extra shifts to try to keep my mind off him. But when I leave, I have to walk past the ER, and I pray to the God of love-sick women that I never run into him. I’m pretty sure they’d have to call a Code Blue on me. Okay, that’s a bit dramatic, but really it’s been hard. I’m pretty sure my wine supply is at an all-time low, and my Blu-Ray player is starting to hate Mr. Darcy.

  The sliding electronic doors of the ER open, and I hide behind a tree. I’m being stupid, it’s probably just a patient, but then I hear it… and I freeze. Cole’s voice echoes in the ambulance bay and makes my stomach churn. The copper taste in my mouth starts to build as I watch him smile down at a very blonde, very curvy, and drop dead gorgeous woman in scrubs. He places his hand on the small of her back, and my eyes start to fill with tears.

  Shit, Bailey cut it out.

  I close my eyes for a moment and regret it. I can feel his hands on me. I can see his face as he loses control. I open my eyes, and to my relief and dismay he’s gone… gone with her.

  “Motherfucker,” I say out loud in a rushed whisper. One month… and he’s already got a new unsuspecting victim. My breathing becomes rapid, and I can feel the heat in my chest. I want to scream. I want to slap myself for ever thinking that I’d been falling for him. Bailey Evans was smarter than that. For all I know, he might have been with that tart of a nurse the whole time. Calling her a tart makes me feel worse, because, in all reality, I’d been a tart with him too.

  Three nurses walk by me laughing and joking. I haven’t really made any friends here at Valley. Nothing is truly keeping me here. Maybe I’ll look for a new job. I pull the strap of my bag over my shoulder and head to my car. There’s no sign of Cole or the blonde, and I assume they’ve left together. I try not to think about him fucking her… but I’m unsuccessful. The image is now burned in my brain, and I’m starting to feel really nauseous. Before I make it to my car, my battle to keep down my feelings and the S’mores Pop Tart I ate an hour ago is lost. The retching sound seems too loud as I puke into the shrubs just a few feet from my car.

  “You okay, miss?” A deep voice makes me jump. I spit the acrid taste from my mouth.

  I look up at the tall man. He’s incredibly broad and wearing the standard navy blue EMT uniform. I’m struck by the fact he’s got a half sleeve of tattoos, not to mention, he’s the kind of attractive that would make even the most confident girl meek. Strong jaw, tanned skin, each feature drawn in an appealing angle.

  Oh God, could this night get any worse?

  “I’m fine. No need to worry about little ole me… just barfing in a shrub in front of a handsome firefighter.” Did I just say that? His chuckle confirms it, and now I officially want to die. Why God? Why couldn’t I have been born with a filter?

  “I can’t believe I just said that.” I notice he’s holding my bag in his hand. I must have dropped it when I lost my lunch. The smile on his face is boy-next-door; the deep dimple in his cheek makes me smile. His eyes are a pale blue, and as they scan down my body and back up again, I start to feel insecure. He shakes his head and laughs.

  “You gonna make it? You’re right outside the ER, you know?” He hands me my bag and smirks at his own sarcastic banter.

  I grab my badge and hold it up so he can read it. “Bailey Evans, RN, Women and Newborn.”

  His smile widens. “Nice to meet you, Bailey Evans, RN. I’m Brent Taylor, EMT SLC North.” He presses his lips together fighting a smile, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “I’d prefer it if the next time we have a little run in, I’m not puking my guts out.” I turn to leave, but he calls out to me.

  “Wait…” he runs his hand through his hair, “I mean, you gonna be okay?”

  It hits me then. It’s like a cold splash of water to my face. “I hope so, Brent Taylor, EMT.” My smile is small as I turn and start to walk away.

  “You got a boyfriend?” he asks, and my heart begins to beat heavy in my chest, my lips tremble, and my eyes fill with fluid. The acid in my stomach burns. I’m grateful my back is to him.

  “No…” my voice wavers, and I try with everything I have not to cry, “I don’t.”

  I feel the weight of his large, warm palm on my shoulder. “Seriously, you okay?” He turns me around easily. His brows furrow as he takes in the tears that are now falling down my cheeks. He probably thinks I’m a nutjob.

  “Just a bad day. You know how it can be?”
I’m able to pull on my fake smile long enough to appease him.

  He nods.

  “Thanks for your concern, but see that shitty, white, old VW Rabbit?” I point to my car that’s just two parking stalls down from where we’re standing. “That’s me. So I’m good, almost there.”

  He drops his hand from my shoulder. “Drive safely. I hope to see you around. Maybe… go have a drink or something sometime?” His smile is cute, but I’m not ready for cute smirks and strong hands.

  “Timing… it’s a bitch, Brent Taylor. Thank you, though, I’m flattered.” As I turn to walk to my car, I wave over my shoulder, my eyes fixed in front of me.

  “See ya around, Bailey Evans… I hope.” His laughter is light as I walk away.

  Once I’m in the front seat of my car, I let it all out. I’m crying like a freak, but it’s cathartic. I’m angry. I’m angry that Cole gets to go home with someone, and I’m sitting here, turning down Mr. Hot EMT guy and sobbing in my old beat up car, for what? I hate him. I hate that he made me weak. I hate that he ruined me for any other men. There’s no way they’ll ever make me feel like Cole did. I just know it. I start my car and attempt to catch my breath. I suck in a deep gulp of air, rest my head on the steering wheel, and let the music that’s softly pouring from my speakers calm me down. Each breath begins to get easier to take, and the panic attack fades. I wipe the tears from under my eyes.

  I’m not my mother. I’ve screwed up. I let lust rule my choices. I let a stupid addiction, the feel of him, wash over and claim me in its riptide. Swallowing the hurt down is a bitter pill as I look at myself in the rear-view mirror. My puffy eyes, my tear stained cheeks. Done. Be done, Bailey. I close my eyes and focus on the image of his hand touching her back. Anger, I can use it. I’d rather be angry than the weak mess I’ve allowed myself to become.

  The whole drive to my apartment is about ten minutes. I’m exhausted physically and mentally, so when my phone buzzes as I step out of my car, I almost don’t even look at it. Trace is notorious for sending me early morning boob shots of her running her skinny ass on the treadmill. Honestly, if it weren’t for her, I’d be in smelly, hairy, spinster mode for at least another two months. The smell of my apartment is a welcome scent. The door shuts behind me, and I pull my phone from my pocket. I’m fully prepared to tell Trace to stop being such an overachiever, but when I open my lock screen and see Cole’s number, the pulse in my veins runs a jagged rhythm.