FREE ON KU
Only a good Doctor can be this bad…
Side effects of working with the world’s hottest doctor
Raised blood pressure
He’s my new boss.
He’s my Ex
He’s still the hottest doctor on the planet.
But he’s my Ex for a reason, a very good reason
Here I am gathering what’s let of my dignity
along with my tattered panties.
Resisting the good doctor’s charms is proving
to be tougher than raising a feisty five year old.
He’s so used to getting his way,
But when he threatens to take everything
The gloves come off,
He may wear the white coat
But I wear a single-mother frickin cape.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I scramble in the darkness, searching for the panties he ripped from my wanton and widespread legs not twenty minutes ago.
“You kiss your mother with that mouth.” I don’t have to look
up to see that fucking smug and sinfully sexy smile spread across his gorgeous lips. I can hear it in his deep and irritatingly ob- noxious tone. I wasn’t going to do this…again. I curse my slutty self. Not with him, not at work, and definitely not in the supply cupboard. But, in my defence, it’s been a really long time, and he is…well, he is Joel.
“Fuck off!” I growl as I find the discarded, tattered and now completely useless garment. Fantastic. I haul myself upright and brush the sex-creased wrinkles from my scrubs. My ‘fucked like animals’ hairstyle may take a little more to remedy.
“Ah, baby, don’t be like that.” His strong arm slides around the nip in my waist, and he pulls me against his solid frame. Really solid, damn…already? I suck back a whimper and pinch my eyes shut so I don’t have to see the telltale knowledge flashing in his hazel eyes. His dark brow is raised only slightly, but it’s not with confusion. He’s waiting to see if I’m good to go for round two. He knows exactly what he does to me, and because of that, I shouldn’t have fucking gone for round one. I promised myself I wouldn’t. I should know better…I do know better. I push out of his hold, and he gives a carefree shrug that pinches hard in my chest. Of course, this doesn’t matter to him. I didn’t matter enough back then; why the fuck would I matter now? I grit my teeth and flash my bright- est smile. It doesn’t reach my eyes, but it’s the best I have.
“Like what, Joel?” I keep my tone level, failing at indifference, but at least it’s not whiny.
“You could at least give me a genuine smile. I put some of my best work in there. I do believe you came three times to my one.” His teeth drag slowly over his bottom lip, and I have to force that whimper back down my throat.
“I wasn’t counting.” That’s a lie. God, why does he have to be so good at that? My old faithful vibrator is a very poor cousin in comparison, and that’s connected to the national grid for Christ’s sake.
“Don’t I deserve a little TLC?” he croons, and I snort, my tone thick with condescension.
“If I gave you TLC, Joel, you’d be leaving one of those cartoon outlines in the door from the high speed get away. Besides don’t you get enough fawning from your army of skanky interns?” I quip.
“I do…but it’s not the same; you’re special.” He tips his head, his soft smile almost convincing, almost.
“You’re so full of shit,” I snap, but it’s lost a little fire.
“You’re right. I couldn’t even keep a straight face.” He smirks and shrugs again.
“Riiight, okay then. This has been fun; now if you’ll excuse me?” I internally wince at the hit from his indifference, but what did I really expect? It’s been a roller coaster of crushingly cold distance interspersed with bouts of raging incendiary heat since he returned.
“Don’t beat yourself up, we both needed this. Just scratching an itch, baby.” He ruffles my hair, like it needed a little more mess added to it.
“It’s your itches that worry me, Joel.” I step over the used condom and at least take comfort that I do learn some lessons, even if I learn them the hard way.
“Needs have to be met, especially in our game. This is a ma- jor stress relief, baby,” he argues, and I have to stop myself from gaping.
“Glad to be of service.” I pinch my lips tight and offer a thin smile.
“As am I, but don’t be a bitch about it, Regan. You could have anyone of those guys out there that keep asking you out, but for whatever reason you just bottle it all up until you—”
“Fuck a complete prick.” I snap my interruption, not bothering to hide my harsh and accusatory tone,
“Don’t, you’ll make me blush.” He winks and shucks his coat back on over his broad shoulders.
“Oh my god,” I mouth more to myself.
I storm out of the cupboard, and am so thankful it’s the start of the night shift and the lights in the hallway have been dimmed. No one is around, and I can do my walk of shame undetected. I scurry as quickly as I can toward the staff toilets. My rubber shoes do not make my journey as stealthy as I hoped but I do get to the safety of the ladies without encountering a single soul. I’m such an idiot.
My shift was over. I was nearly home safe, but no.
I don’t try to be professional; I am professional, and I would never step over that line. I have too much to lose. But, like I said, it’s been a long time, and when Joel Lincoln Prescott III sets his sights on you, you’d have to be made of stone to resist. To be fair to me, I have resisted, and succumbed, and resisted and… Well, you get the idea.
He was appointed Head of Paediatrics last year, but I’ve known him a little longer. He came crashing through the ward doors like he crashed into my life seven years ago. Dirty blond hair, just dip- ping long enough at the front to cover his thick brow but not hide his mesmerising hazel and gold-flecked eyes. Six foot two, and under that crisp white shirt and doctor’s coat, he is built like fuck- ing Adonis. Unfortunately, he knows this, and there is not a hum- ble bone in his conceited, obnoxious, and utterly charming body.
Today was a particular torture reserved for only the most wicked of people. I must have been particularly bad in a previ- ous life to have to endure a litany of flirtatious comments, teasing touches, and incendiary glances that had me extremely thankful for my shapeless uniform, which mostly hid all the squeezing and squirming my lower body was enduring. I caved, and what’s worse, he knew I would, and I couldn’t hate myself anymore for it. Not even the mind-blowing orgasms he drew from my desperate body improved my opinion of me; however, I am grateful for one thing: he never tells; this is our secret.
I straighten myself and scrape my long glossy hair back into a neat and sensible bun. My lips are still a little swollen, and I indulge in dragging my tongue over them, savouring the taste of him, which lingers; it’s faint, but it’s there. My fingertips rest on my mouth, and I am surprised when I look at my reflection and see that I’m smiling. It feels strange and good at the same time, natural, and that surprises me too. There is really only one thing in my world that makes me smile like this, and it hasn’t been him for a very long time.
It’s her, my little miracle…Ruby. That thought alone has my smile spreading wider and brighter, eclipsing its Joel-induced predecessor. I check my watch. She’ll be tucked up now, if Bobbie managed to get her to sleep at all. Christmas Eve for a five-year- old is the stuff of nightmares for any babysitter, but I’m hoping she was successful. I have all her presents stuffed in the back seat of my car, wrapped and ready to place under our pathetic excuse of a tree. It was all I could afford, and Ruby thinks it’s the bollocks, so that’s all that matters. She didn’t use those exact words; fortunate- ly, she doesn’t have her mother’s potty mouth…yet.
I collect my coat, keys, and bag from the staff room and head home. My feet freeze at the top of the stairwell, as I see Joel’s mo- torcycle helmet disappear into the supply cupboard. I wish it was daytime because, with the daytime, the ward is loud and man- ic. Now, at this time, it’s so quiet, too quiet. There is no mistak- ing that light giggle and deep growl of Joel telling someone else ‘you’re special’ just as the door suctions shut. That brief sound is all I can hear ringing in my ears and making my damn nose tingle as I find my feet running down the stairwell.