by Robin Leaf
I emerge from the bedroom thirty minutes later. After two self-imposed orgasms in the shower, ones I had to stifle with a gag created from a washcloth in my mouth, and a call to Kelly, I feel marginally better than I did before going in. I don’t see Dugger at first; I know that he exchanged Friends for Supernatural, which is quietly playing on the TV. Wow. I forgot how great Sam’s hair looked in season eight.
I round the couch to find him asleep on his side, one hand curled under his head, the other tucked between his thighs. He’s kind of adorable, yeah, in a I-still-so-want-to-fuck-him way, but the faint snore through his slightly open mouth and the drool down his cheek might make it slightly less urgent.
I place a blanket over him, contemplating how horrible it would be to kiss his sweet forehead. I mean it is right there, begging to be smooched. I’ve never really ever tucked in an actual grown human before, but I know with the tiny ones, specifically my niece and nephew, kissing the forehead is protocol. Shouldn’t it be for the big ones, too?
Why not? After this one act of stupidity, I’ll be sure to strengthen my resolve.
I lean down, brushing my lips against the skin near his temple, not able to stop myself from inhaling his clean, manly goodness. I feel a jolt, but it creates a pleasant buzzing through my body. He sighs, and I fear he’s awakened because he felt it, too. Caught in the throes of my seemingly terrible decision, I’m frozen, waiting for the repercussions. When his breathing returns to normal, I let out my own sigh of relief.
The problem is my plan to continue my Friends-a-thon is thwarted by the sleeping giant on the only couch that provides a decent view of the TV. I’m forced to the bedroom, with a choice to either watch on my tiny screen, read on the same tiny screen, or find something else to do, like scroll through my neglected social media. It’s not like I’m much for the social aspect of social media. Mostly, I just repost other people’s memes and puppy videos.
Whatever. I’ll figure it out. I won’t disturb the sleeping beauty-beast, no matter how much I want to curl up next to him.
Ugh. Why does he have to be so… perfect?
Fourteen
Dugger
It seems like Ember’s been avoiding me all morning. I’m not sure why.
It was weird last night. She ran so hot and cold; I know she was very affected by me, then she turned on a dime, running so fast, she left skid marks on the floor. I also know if she kept staring at me like she did, I would have been seriously tested.
Well, I was already tested. I would have seriously failed the test.
Before she left to take a shower, she was a little awkward, like she was after I grabbed her hand, but this morning, she’s just downright weird. She’s silent, which is so unlike her.
Even in the car, she turns up that pop radio shit and quietly rode in. On the drive to the hospital, I’m tortured by the radio; is that’s her motive? Overplayed songs by a British pop star and Bieber singing in Spanish, which should be against the law. I guess I should be grateful there’s no Taylor… nope. Thought that too soon. Dammit. Thank God we’ve arrived.
She’s not necessarily being rude, unless I count the ten-minute torture-ride, just quiet, that is until we arrive at the hospital.
Once we get here, she insists, completely clinical and nurse-like, that I need to have the doctor listen to my lungs and check out the almost-gone rash on my stomach. I’m fortunate she was there to treat it so quickly last night. Of course, if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have needed to be treated, but that’s not her fault. She didn’t know about my allergy. Sure, the throat closing off and the rash were embarrassing, but what happened last night was better than the time I had to visit the hospital due to a full-on, almost-dying reaction to some wax-removing lotion Kaelyn gave me the day before Tater’s wedding. That sucked, and not just the almost-dying part. A hot wool tux and an allergic rash don’t mix at all. Of course, getting rejected by the girl I thought would be the love of my life right after sharing the best kiss I’ve ever experienced wasn’t exactly a picnic, either.
Now, I’m sitting in this little triage cubicle, where I’ve been waiting over an hour for Ember to return with the doctor, getting kind of peeved that they’re taking so long. I really just want to go see Mabel upstairs. My phone has very little signal, so using any apps or watching Netflix is out. I left my book at the hotel when I pulled it out last night to find the Benadryl, and there’s only so many times I can read the “How to Recognize a Kidney Stone” and “Know Your Patient Rights” posters. I’m irritated and bored, not a good mix.
The curtain opens, making me jump.
“Okay, sorry for the wait,” Ember says.
A younger girl trails behind her, smiling at me like she knows… something. She’s wearing long sleeves under her scrubs, obviously covering tattoos, of which a few are still slightly visible. I recognize Chapa’s work. He works out of a shop near Compton and is wicked good. It makes me wonder how this girl knows him.
“Jasmine and I had a meeting scheduled this morning,” Ember explains, “and, well, frankly, I got distracted and kind of forgot you were waiting. I didn’t expect us to take so long.”
I nod and force a small smile.
“So,” she continues, “I thought Jazz could get in some skills practice on you. Do you mind if she takes your vitals?”
What the hell? She makes me wait over an hour and then asks me to be her protégé’s crash test dummy?
The problem is when I look at the kid with her hopeful expression, I can’t refuse.
“Sure, Jasmine. You may do whatever you need to.”
She throws up her hands in victory and then claps once. “Your arm. I need to take your blood pressure and your temp.”
Jasmine places the thermometer under my tongue. After a few attempts over the sleeve of my long sleeve shirt, she asks if I can remove one arm from my shirt. I swear I hear Ember quietly mutter “fuck” from the other side of Jasmine, which makes Jazz laugh, but she coughs to cover it.
As she secures the cuff, the machine beeps, so she removes the thermometer. I nod to the sugar skull on her hand. “Chapa’s work?”
“Oh, yeah,” she says, smiling. “He’s my boyfriend. I let him practice on me a little.” She takes off the cuff, nodding to my shoulder. “That’s Tater’s work, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. My. Gahd. You don’t know how much Chapi idolizes that dude.” The machine beeps that it’s finished, so she rips off the cuff. “He spends so much time studying pictures of Tater’s tats.” She points to my chest. “I think I saw these taped to his workstation during my last session.”
I move to put my arm back in my sleeve. A look to Ember makes me notice how she tries to be discreet about watching me redress. It’s that lip bite that has me intrigued, and a little uncomfortable only because Jasmine is in the room. If she wasn’t…
I pause, then slowly lift my shirt a little to see what she’ll do. Those brownish-green eyes glance to mine right before her face flashes red. It makes me chuckle quietly and raise my eyebrow, knowing this time, there’s no mistake that her thoughts were definitely not PG. They might have even slid past the R rating right to XXX, which is where mine went last night, several times. She spins around and tries to look occupied by something at the small cabinet, trying to hide the deep breath she takes.
Why do I feel the need to fuck with her? Not sure, but…
“Did you ever get that tattoo in some place…” I drop my voice, “…hidden, Blue?”
“No,” she croaks, shaking her head before clearing her throat. She turns and plasters on a smile. “No, I didn’t.” Her eyes move toward her student before she turns back to the cabinet, opening the door and pulling something out. “Hey, Jasmine, have you ever practiced putting in a Foley on a real patient?”
“No, ma’am,” she says, looking at me and biting her lips together, “that’s the one thing I’ve never done.”
Ember clears her throat again and moves in front of Jasmine, han
ding over whatever she pulled out of the cabinet. “He said you can do whatever you need, so why not get in the practice?”
Jasmine, who is about the same height as Ember, bites the sides of her cheeks. I’m not sure if this Foley thing makes her nervous or what, but I can’t say I like this at all.
When Ember turns around with some sort of rubber tubing in her hands, that dislike turns into full on dread.
“Now, you need to test the balloon first,” she says, demonstrating by pushing the plunger on the end of a syringe, which inflates about an inch from the end of the tube. “After that test, you can apply the lube.”
Uh, did she just say lube? If she thinks that’s going anywhere near my ass…
“Once you have a firm grip on the penis with your non-dominant hand…”
Oh thank God, it’s not going up my… wait, did she say…
“… you can insert the tube slowly into the urethra.”
“Oh, fuck no!” I shout, jumping off the exam table. “I’ll be damned if you’re going to insert anything into my –”
“Is there a problem in here?” some guy in a white coat says, entering the cubicle.
“No, Dr. Sellers,” Ember says smoothly, smiling, as she hands off the tubing to Jasmine and quickly stepping up to the doctor. “Douglass was just expressing how he doesn’t want my student to retake his vitals. If you’ll just listen to his lungs and take a look at his contact dermatitis.”
He stares at her for a second, not glaring this time, but he does press his lips together to stop whatever he wants to say. When he turns to me and puts his stethoscope in his ears, I recognize him.
He’s the dick doctor who was so rude to her right after her divorce.
He doesn’t look at my face when he instructs me to take deep breaths. Ember and Jasmine move about behind him to hide their shenanigans. It’s obvious to me now they were fucking with me. Touché, ladies. I’d laugh if I still wasn’t a little pissed.
Once he’s finished listening to my back, I lift my shirt so he can see the barely-visible rash. Ember glances at my exposed skin before looking up at my face, and I stare intently at her, holding her eyes with mine for a second. She looks away first.
“Your friend is fine, Nurse.” He rolls his eyes, turns, and walks out of the cubicle. Fucker doesn’t even use her name this time, wrong or otherwise. What a dick.
When he’s out of earshot, Jasmine spit laughs, which turns into a fit of giggles, and Ember follows.
I grunt. “Yeah, nice one, girls.”
That only makes them laugh harder.
Hearing Ember’s laugh kind of thaws the irritation I feel at the moment. Not all of it, but some.
“I thought you said you were bad at lying, Nurse Zills,” I say, trying to hide my smile.
She high fives Jasmine before she shrugs one shoulder. “Guess I’m getting better.”
I stand, placing my hands on my hips. “Can I go check on Mabel now?”
“Oh, shit,” she says, sobering. “I should have let you do that first.” She absently lays her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, Douglass.”
It’s not the same jolt I felt yesterday when I grabbed her hand, but there’s definitely a tingle. Her eyes soften as she lowers her head, still looking up at me. Again, I’m struck by the need to kiss her, except this time, I want to lift her against the wall and push my hardening cock into her core, slam my mouth against hers, and show her tongue all the passion she’s never experienced. I want her panting, desperate, needy… moaning. I want to make her come multiple times, on my tongue, from my fingers, and around my cock, until she forgets how to speak. Then, I want to do it all again. Repeatedly.
I want her to be mine.
God damn. This girl is dangerous.
~ ~ ~
“Oh, good, Dugger, you’re here,” Mabel calls from her bed.
Damn, not even twenty-four hours here, and she’s got the room decorated. I’m sure she’s charmed the nurses into willingly doing her minion-ly duties.
“Can you go over there and adjust the TV? There’s a glare on it from the lights.”
See? I’m her willing minion, too.
After a few adjustment attempts in which she is satisfied, I walk to the side of her bed.
“Did Ember get ya?” she asks, smiling.
“You know about it, huh?”
She grins. “Who do you think gave her the idea?”
“You told her to demonstrate how to insert Foley into a pee hole in front of me?”
Mabel giggles. “Oh, goodness, she didn’t even want to do anything, but hers was way better than what I suggested.” She folds her hands over her stomach, laughing.
“Did you tell her to use her nursing student?”
“No, I told her to scare you with the threat of a prostate exam. You know they have to do those with a finger up your bum, right?” She giggles. “But I would guess for a man, a Foley catheter would be just as intimidating.”
“Yeah, that thing was… unnerving.” Pointing my finger at her, I add, “Shame on you, lady.”
“Well, I thought you were going to tell her about me knowing she wasn’t your girlfriend, and when she came in here this morning and started to awkwardly ramble on about how you kept her up late from all the sex you had last night, she almost burst into flames. I had to come clean before she tried to come up with descriptions, although I’m not sure why I stopped her before then. That might have been entertaining.” She chuckles once more. “Boy, she was pissed at you.”
I hang my head smiling. Okay, I definitely deserve the Foley joke. At least I learned some valuable information, like what the hell a Foley is and why I hope I’ll never need one.
“See,” she adds, patting my hand with her bony fingers. “You get it. Now admit it. I couldn’t have picked a better woman for you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t –”
“Don’t tell me you don’t need a woman, Douglass Van Cleef. If anyone deserves to be loved, it’s you. You have so much love to give, and it’s about time you get some in return from your own family.”
“I have a family in the form of my friends.”
“Dugger, they’re great, as extended family,” she gently scolds, “but they’re not completely yours. They won’t put you first above all others. You need to have someone who loves you the way you deserve. You should be someone’s priority. You deserve that passion and that fire, boy, to be lit up from the inside when she touches you.” She sees my eyes widen, and she smiles, pointing her finger at me. “That’s already happened with her, hasn’t it?” I nod before I can stop myself. “God, why can’t you see it? You need to be insanely happy for the rest of your days with someone who will give as good as she gets, and this girl can and will.”
“I’m not good enough for her,” I blurt, looking down at my hands.
Her hand smacks the top of my head. It doesn’t hurt, but I rub the spot anyway, chuckling without humor.
“What the hell was that for, Mabel?”
“For being a dumbass.”
“A what?”
“You heard me, Dumbass. I was worried that girl wasn’t good enough for you, not the other way around. But when she brought that young girl up here to have me talk to her about staying in the nursing profession, I knew she was perfect for you.”
“She brought Jasmine up here?”
“Yes. Some asshole told her that she shouldn’t be a nurse because she would intimidate patients with all her tattoos and rough exterior. Ember knew I’d talk some sense into that girl, and I think I did, but I noticed how much she cared for the girl, how she was willing to use whatever resource she had to get this young’un to see that the doctor was just a dick, and she has more to offer the world other than his opinion.”
My ears perk at the word “doctor.”
“Did they say this doctor’s name?”
She puts her finger to her chin, tapping, thinking. “Dr. Tellers? Or Fellas? I don’t know, something like that. They said it several
times, so you’d think I’d remember.”
Dr. Sellers. That dick. Come to think of it, I’m betting he might be a bigger dick than originally thought. I’ve got some research to do.
I stand, patting Mabel’s hand.
“I will be back later, darlin’. I need to go look into something.”
I turn to exit the room, and she giggles.
“That’s right. Go get her, Boy.”
~ ~ ~
I find Ember at the desk instructing Jasmine on how to enter something into the computer.
“When you’re finished, can I speak to you in the break room, Blue?”
She nods distractedly. “Yeah, give us a minute.”
I walk toward the break room, flashing the memory of yesterday through my head of our electric moment. Maybe Mabel is on to something. I do really like this girl, a lot, and she does get my dick stirring like not many have before. I need to know more about her though, like does she feel the same way about me, or am I just reading into things because I’m wishing it to be true?
I run into a big guy in white scrubs. “Sorry, man,” he says with a smile, walking past me like he’s in a hurry. It was the guy from yesterday that took Mabel upstairs. In fact, I’ve seen him a lot in the past few days, always with a smile on his face, which is nice around here.
Rounding the corner to the break room, I lean against the table and wait. Seconds later, she walks in.
“What can I do for you?” she says, very businesslike and rehearsed. Way different than the usual awkwardness I’m used to from her. I need to change that. I step closer to her. I can see that she really wants to step back, which confuses me, but she holds her ground, smiling despite her nerves.
“We never discussed your stalker last night, and I have an idea who it might be.”
Her smile drops as her eyes widen, and for a split second, she looks terrified.
“W-w-who do you think it is?”
I grab her wrist and gently pull her further into the room. She looks at my hand, which wraps around her tiny wrist easily, and back up to me with her widened eyes, but this time, there’s no trace of the former fear I saw a second ago. Is that… lust?
