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“Finish getting dressed and meet me at the nurse’s station,” I tell her and release her from my hold.
I slip quickly into the men’s locker room, grab my scrubs, and retreat to the privacy of a bathroom stall where I can stroke away at my engorged manhood. I need to relieve this tension and restore the blood flow to my brain before I see my patients. I don’t know why she has this intense effect on me, but in just twenty-four hours, she’s become all that I can think about. I close my eyes and think about kissing her warm, plump lips and a wet, sticky release explodes on my hand and drips onto the floor.
Mission accomplished, I set out for the nurse’s station to collect my patient records and my sweet Skylar. As I approach, I pick up on the conversation taking place behind the desk.
“I guess when you’re the director’s daughter, you get your pick of doctors to intern with,” one nurse says.
“I’d be interested in seeing her transcripts. I bet she didn’t earn this spot,” the other replies.
They both laugh and snicker like a pair of high school girls, but they stop abruptly when I step around the corner. I shoot them a menacing glare and hold my hand out. The larger woman clears her throat and hands me my patient files. I continue to glare at them until I see Skylar coming toward me. This is my last chance to speak up before she overhears me so I lean in close and say, “The next person who runs their mouth about my intern will be looking for another job.”
I spin around and greet Skylar just as she approaches.
“Shall we make our rounds?” I ask her.
“Of course, Dr. Statton,” she drops her eyes and her cheeks redden again.
4
DAY ONE
SKYLAR
I’m a bundle of nerves in the operating room, but I respond quickly to Scott’s commands and don’t make any mistakes. Even the nurses who shot me smug, judgmental looks when I arrived seem impressed with my performance. When we finish for the day and the pressure is off, I find myself both mentally and physically exhausted. But still, I rush to change and get to the floor, hoping to see Scott before he leaves for the day.
I try to look casual as I step out into the hall and stare at the men’s locker room door, hoping that it will burst open and Scott will appear. A cluster of doctors and nurses walk by and I pull out my phone and pretend that I’m using it so I don’t look so suspicious. After what happened in the locker room this morning, he wouldn’t just leave me hanging, would he? Then again, he was in the OR all day too. Maybe he’s exhausted too and went home to get some rest. I’ve all but given up and start my ascent down the hall to the elevators when I hear the page.
“Dr. Presley to Dr. Statton’s office.”
I’m practically giddy and pick up the pace, sprinting to his office. I don’t know what he wants but I can’t wait to see him. I skid to a stop outside his door and try to catch my breath before tapping on it.
“Come in,” his voice comes from the other side of the door.
The dimly lit office is a stark contrast to the fluorescent glare of the hallway, and I stagger forward as my eyes adjust. Scott is leaning against his desk, gripping it with his hands and causing his arms to flex. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt, and I’m struck by his pulsating muscles and the previously covered portion of his black tribal tattoo.
“Come over here, little girl. I want to talk to you,” his husky voice beckons.
My heart is beating so hard between my ears that I can barely hear him. I walk straight to him and stand so close that I can feel the heat of his breath on my shaking body.
“You were great today. Your instincts are spot on and you take direction better than anyone else in the department,” he tells me and I beam with pride.
“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”
“I was thinking, if you’re that good with taking direction in the operating room, are you also that good at taking direction in other situations?”
“Like, what kind of situations?”
“Like if I told you to come closer so that I can touch you.”
“Are you telling me that?” I tease.
“Get over here,” he points to the floor in front of his feet and I inch closer.
He lifts his arms and places them on my shoulders, then slides them down my arms and grabs me around the waist.
“Kiss me,” he demands and I lean in, pressing my lips against his. He forces my mouth open with his tongue and squeezes my hips as he explores the inside of my mouth.
I put my arms around his neck and he moves his hands to my breasts, squeezing and stroking them through my blouse. It feels good but I’d rather have his hands on my bare skin.
