Page 8 of Bound to the EMT

CHAPTER 4

BRANSON

A heavy sigh flits through my lips. “I can’t send my partner away without looking at you first, but I’ll see what I can do with the rest. Don’t you dare move from this room,” I growl, infusing just a hint of Alpha command into my tone. “And don’t sit anywhere. I want you on the bed lying face down with your pants and underwear down. Understood?”

Without waiting for an answer, I pad down the stairs to a sea of waiting people. They all look up at me expectantly, as if I have all the answers. I still don’t, and I hate that I won’t be able to get them until they leave.

“From what I can tell, she seems fine. She won’t let me fully examine her while everyone is out there in front of her house. She’s far too freaked out about getting her name in the press in a bad way. I need you to go back and give us space so I can get more than a frantic sentence out of her. Please. For me. For her. Just… please.”

“But Ace,” one of the police officers warns. “This is not protocol.”

“She’s not in an emergency state that I can tell. More like it’s embarrassing for her. She panicked and called EMS. But there’s no active threat.”

“Ace-”

“I know. Protocol. I’ll be sure to have a detailed report that’s for your eyes only. She’s an Astencourt. Anything that looks bad on them might very well look bad on us. The last thing you need is for one of these rich yuppies to call the commissioner. Trust me. I know.”

“And, you’re sure?”

“Let’s put it this way: you’ve all done your jobs. There’s no fire. There are no hidden threats waiting for your arrest. So now, let me do my job. I can’t do that while she’s freaking out about you being here.”

“If anything goes sideways...”

“I’m taking full blame. And you have a room full of witnesses. Now, if you please.”

As they filter out, I rest my head against the glass. What the hell is wrong with me? A pair of watery green eyes and I’m willing to put my job on the line? I can only hope things aren’t as bad as she fears, and I can take care of her on my own.

Jackson stands next to me, rocking back and forth. “You too,” I growl. “Get the ambulance away from the gate.”

“Wait. You can’t be serious.”

I turn to him and level a glare. “Deadly. If I need you, I’ll call you. Go drive around the block or something.”

“But what if another call comes in?”

“You’re currently on a call. Out.”

Nine years with this company down the drain. I just know it. And even if I do write the report, it’s not going to save me. As much as they don’t want to admit it, the rich get preferential treatment. That’s just how it is. Hopefully little miss Astencourt can get me another job if this goes south.

Shaking my head, I make my way back up the stairs to the omega in question. Pretty eyes and thick thighs. Normally things like this don’t affect my job, but there’s just something about her vulnerability that calls to me in a very primal way. Hell, it’s probably because she smells like sin wrapped in a seductive wrapper.

She’s untouchable. A mother fucking Astencourt. I didn’t even know the Astencourt’s had a daughter, but then, why would I? It’s not like I go to the cotillions or whatever the hell they’re calling it nowadays. Running a hand over the back of my neck, I stride back into the room.

Instead of being on the bed like I ordered, she stands at the window, watching the outside. “This isn’t the bed,” I growl, my cock lurching forward as she spins around, her eyes wide like a lost little foal.

She shouldn’t cause these dark urges to thrum through my skull. She shouldn’t make me want to damn the consequences and throw away everything I’ve worked hard for, so I can drag her down to the ground and explore every inch of her body.

There’s such an innocence there, a precious little rich girl bubble begging to be popped. Only, I’m not the one to do it. I know girls like her. Worse, I know parents like hers. Someone like me doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell with a little princess like her.

“I- I just.”

“You just what? We had an agreement. I send them away, and you’ll be waiting for me on the bed.”

“I had to be sure.”

A heavy sigh flits through my lips as I cross my arms and stare this little omega down. “You seem less stressed.”

In fact, instead of the heavy, acrid stench of terror flooding the room, I can pick up on bits and pieces of her scent. Mother fucking brownies straight out of the mother fucking oven. Damn, does she have to smell so delicious? Shoving my growing fascination to the side, I motion for her to get onto the bed.