by Kylie Kent
He’s right, I have ignored their calls and texts all morning. Not wanting to explain myself, I just grunt out, “last I checked I’m a grown ass twenty-eight-year-old man, and I sure as hell don’t have no fucking curfew. I’ll see both you fuckers after I’ve had some damn sleep.” Without looking back I make my way to my room before locking my door behind me.
I strip off and climb into bed, I almost moan at the thought of getting a few hours sleep and close my eyes. After laying there for fifteen minutes with thoughts of Alyssa stuck in my head, I realise that sleep is the last thing on the mind of my cock. I reach into the bedside table and pull out a tub of lube. Squeezing some onto my hand, I reach down and give my cock a tight slow pull, just this simple touch sends shivers down my spine.
With thoughts of Alyssa I pull a few more times, thinking of her on her knees, those blue eyes looking up at me as she slowly takes my cock all the way into her mouth, right to the back of her throat, sucking as she shallows her cheeks on her way back up my cock. At this I moan out loud, with a few more tugs and her name on my lips I come hard, all over the fucking place.
Shaking my head at the thought of how quickly I just came to the thought of Alyssa, like I’m fucking fifteen-years-old again. I get up and have a quick shower before climbing back into bed and crashing.
Looking at my watch I see it’s nine thirty, I’ve been sitting here stuck in my office with Dean and Bray since seven o’clock. Let’s just say the fact that the muffin crumbs in the McLaren were all over the passenger side did not escape Bray’s notice. For at least thirty minutes I had to listen to both him and Dean give me shit about letting some chick, as they called her, eat in my car. I let it slide and refused to give them any more ammunition against me.
Now we’re going over tonight’s plans. We have a new up-and-coming band called Cyrus coming in to play live for the first time tonight. I’ve given them a thirty-minute time slot. On a Saturday night, one of the busiest nights at my club, that’s a fucking generous amount of time.
Dean and Bray are arguing over how many bouncers we will need to surround the stage to prevent chaos tonight, when a knock at the door stops their arguing. “Come in,” I call out.
Caitlyn, my PR manager, struts in and looks me up and down before pasting a smile across her fake ass lips. “Zac, it will be a great night, we’ve had a lot of positive feedback from the Cyrus promotions. We’re expecting a packed house by ten thirty tonight.” She looks at me expectantly.
Does she expect a fucking gold sticker for doing her job? Ignoring her, I turn to Dean. “Have you briefed the security team on the band? I don’t want any issues tonight. If we have a full house by ten-thirty, security needs to be on point. I want the boys at the door double checking ID’s, we had a group of three underage girls make it through last Saturday night. That shit does not happen again.”
Dean stands up ready to head out. “Sure thing boss, they’ve all been briefed, no one makes it close to the band.”
Before he makes it to the door, I stop him. “I have an errand to run; I’m leaving at 10:30, should be about an hour give or take. I want you to double check everything, Bray will help,” I provide pointing at Bray.
All three look at me like I’ve lost my head, probably because I have. I’ve never left the club to run any errands on a busy Saturday night before. Caitlyn walks over to me running her hand down my arm as she tries to purr.
“I’ve set the band up with a table on the VIP floor before and after the show.” Looking down at her hand on my arm, I back away from her reach. It has always irked me whenever she tries to touch me, but tonight it just feels wrong.
I shake the feeling off before I dismiss her to get her out of my fucking office. “That’s great, I want you out there to greet and meet, mingle for a bit, make sure they’re comfortable but not too bloody comfortable. They’re here to do a job not have a free party.” I walk over to the door holding it open for her. Looking pointedly at her, I clear my throat.
She eventually gets the hint before attempting to recover. “Sure thing boss, I’ll see you out on the floor later,” she says as she passes through the open door, I don’t reply before shutting it right behind her.
Bray and Dean are both still standing there with shocked expressions stuck on their faces. “What?” I demand, looking from one to the other.
Bray responds first. “What the fuck kind of errand you got to run on a Saturday night bro?” He raises his eyebrows in question.
“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I’m picking Alyssa up from work and giving her a lift home.”
They both physically gasp before pissing themselves laughing. Once they’ve recovered Dean inquires, “what kinda job does this chick have that she’s working till eleven o’clock at night? Don’t tell me you fell in love with a stripper, man.”
I know he’s joking, but that doesn’t prevent the pissed off feeling boiling up inside me. “Firstly, I say pointing at him, her name is Alyssa … Alyssa.” I repeat her name for emphasis, sometimes these dicks can be daft. “She is not just some chick, she has a name, next time fucking use it. Second, she’s a goddamn nurse. You know a professional, smart, and uses her brains not her banging body to make a buck. And third, I sure as fuck have not fallen in love with anyone.” I almost gag at the word love, I’ve never been in love, and don’t think I ever want to be. Fuck that, I’ve seen that shit and it never ends well for folk like me.
Bray looks at me shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Ok, bro, whatever you say, but just answer me this one thing,” he pauses thinking he can add dramatic suspense. I wait him out, not giving him the response he’s seeking, he eventually asks anyway, “why are you picking up Alyssa and driving her home?” He adds a lot of emphasis to her name and I can’t help but smile when I hear it.
I pick up my wallet and keys from my desk, pocketing them before turning back around and making my way to the door. Just before I open the door I reply, “because if I don’t pick her up, she will catch a bloody train home, and I don’t want her catching a fucking train at eleven o’clock at night.” I hold the door open for them to follow me out and lock the door behind me.
Just as I’m thinking they’re both going to drop the topic and get on with their jobs, Dean smirks at me and says, “and why do you think it is you don’t want some girl, sorry, Alyssa, you don’t want Alyssa, catching a train at eleven o’clock at night?” he questions as he notices the pissed off look I’m sending his way.
Shaking my head, I don’t answer him as I walk away yelling at both of them, “I’ll be back, try not to burn the place down while I’m gone, will ya?”
With that I make my way out the back to the car park. I want to make sure I have enough time to pick Alyssa up something to eat, I have a feeling she hasn’t eaten much if anything since that muffin this morning.
Chapter Five
Alyssa
I audibly sigh as I take a seat at the nurses’ station, I feel like I’ve been on my feet for ten hours straight, probably because I have been. Saturday shifts are always the busiest in our ER; it seems everyone saves their injuries and illnesses for Saturdays. Today the ER has been packed with a range of cases, easy and boring cases, but busy all the same.
I’ve seen at least twenty kids ranging from babies to seven-year-old’s with a series of really superficial boo-boos with mothers who don’t seem to know how to work a Band Aid. It seems I studied for four years to apply ointment and band aids to kids’ boo-boos while ensuring their mothers that their child does not have a broken bone and does not require stitching.
In a way, I guess it’s sweet and nice to know that there are mothers out there who care a lot about their child’s wellbeing. But a child having a scraped knee, bruised arm, or small scratches from falling over does not mean you need to rush your child to emergency because their life is in danger or their bones are broken. Yeah, they should go to their regular doctor and stop running down to the hospital’s e
mergency room.
On top of the kids with boo-boos, there were five kids who came in with actual broken bones. Those I liked, not because their bones were broken, but because the parents were usually thankful once their child was doped up enough to stop crying out in pain. These cases were straightforward. Keep the patient comfortable until the doctor can see them. Send them for x-ray’s, send them to the orthopaedist to get a cast put on, send them home. See simple. Boring, but still simple.
Finally, having five minutes to sit down, my mind drifts to Zac. Hot, sexy, all male Zac; otherwise known as Mr GQ, well in my head that is. What I wouldn’t do to get him on a bed. I mentally curse myself for where I’ve let my thoughts go. It will never happen I tell myself, men like Zac do not go for girls like me, your everyday girl-next-door type of girl.
I’ve never had a man take such good care of me, no one has ever walked around the car to open the door for me before. Not that I could figure out how to open the contraption he calls a car, anyway. I think about the way he leaned over to put my seatbelt on for me, the way he stopped to buy me breakfast. Men like Zac did not exist in the real world. There has to be a flaw, no man can be that perfect. As hard as I try to identify any flaws in Zac, I’m coming up blank, there is nothing, literally nothing, I would want to change about him.
I wonder what he got up to today, I wonder who he’s with. No Lyssa, stop it, I scold myself. No good will come of daydreaming of the never going to happen Zac.
Trying to clear my mind, I take a deep breath and take stock of my surroundings. The smell of antiseptic and sanitizer assaults my nose, the sound of machines beeping, kids crying, synchronised sounds of coughing, the elevator doors opening and closing, feet shuffling. I can see the rows of beds separated by blue curtains, colleagues putting on and taking off gloves as they enter and leave each patients section. Yep, I’m at work. No time to dwell on hot AF Zac.
Needing a distraction, I pull my phone to check for any missed calls or messages, it’s the first time I’ve looked at it all day. I open my text message thread from Sarah, she’s sent me five messages today.
Sarah: I can’t believe you’re stuck in the hospital. The sun is out and the water is awesome today.
She attached a photo of the beach. It looks inviting, however, keeping my job and eating is more appealing at the moment. Scrolling down, I read the next text.
Sarah: It’s hot out here today, and I don’t mean the temperature, although I may need some urgent medical attention as I’m about to suffer from heat stroke. You can suffer heat struck from being surrounded by hot, hot and I mean fire hot men, right?
This one makes me laugh out loud a little, picking my head up I see that no one is paying me any attention. I scroll through the few photos she attached of the scenery; topless men of all colours and sizes. The only thought comes to mind when I see these men is, they don’t hold a candle to Zac.
I really need to get my mind off this guy, I mean I can’t even enjoy the pictures of topless hot guys at the beach. I should be able to appreciate that view, even if I am living through Sarah. Giving up on trying to see anything else in the photos, I scroll to her next message.
Sarah: As hot as the view is here, the view in our living room this morning was ten times better.
She adds a winky face emoji. I could have gone without the reminder of just how unattainable Mr GQ was. Choosing not to dwell on that message I go to her last message sent, sent about thirty minutes ago.
Sarah: I won’t be home tonight, I’m picking up some cucumber.
Picking up a cucumber is Sarah’s not-so-subtle code that she’s getting laid tonight. Having the townhouse to myself doesn’t seem so bad, I could use the quiet. I won’t make it home until at least midnight anyway, and that’s if the trains are running on time. I send Sarah a quick text back, I should get back to the charts I was doing.
Lyssa: Enjoy, be safe and save the deets for brunch tomorrow.
Knowing I probably won’t hear from her until I see her at our regular Sunday brunch meet with Holly and Reilly, I put my phone away and look back at the charts I have to get done before I can leave in an hour.
I’m halfway through the pile of charts with forty minutes left of my shift when I see a cup landing on the desk in front of me. Dr. Mark Allen leans on the counter smiling at me. “Thought you could use a pick me up, skinny cap right?”
Nope not right, but how many times can you correct someone. “How did you know? Thank you doctor, I appreciate it.” Picking the cup up I take a huge gulp. It may not be a vanilla latte, but coffee is coffee.
“You know you can call me Mark, right? You don’t have to call me doctor all the time.” Dr. Allen winks at me.
I can’t find it in myself to even contemplate putting up with his flirting today. Dr. Allen is known as a serial dater around the ER, always looking for a new nurse to sink his teeth into. Well, this nurse is not on the menu, well not on Dr. Allen’s menu. Zac’s menu however, that’s a menu I could handle being on.
I smile up at Dr. Allen and do my best to get us back into the professional tertiary. “I think I’d prefer to stick with doctor, we are in a workplace after all. Thanks for the coffee but I really need to get these charts done.” I point at the pile of folders in front of me.
His smile drops before he says, “sure thing Alyssa, see you around.” He turns and walks away, hopefully getting the clue that this nurse is most certainly off his menu.
After finishing my charts, I shower quickly before changing out of my scrubs. It’s almost eleven fifteen as I make my way out of the building. Just as I’m about to walk out the door, Dr. Allen catches up to me placing a hand on arm.
“Do you need a ride home?” He looks hopeful.
I keep walking making my way out the exit as I say, “umm, no it’s okay thanks, I’ve got a ride.”
I lie, I’m planning on catching the train but I’m not about to tell him that. Attempting to change the topic I thank him again for the coffee and then look around searching for a way to get away from him without being outright rude.
That’s when I spot him, Mr GQ, leaning up against a black Range Rover. Wearing a suit, a freaking suit, dark blue with a white button-up shirt, no tie. The first few buttons on his shirt are undone, giving me just a glimpse of his chest. How is it he always looks this good? It shouldn’t be legal for men to walk around looking like this. I mean, this is how accidents are caused, women stunned by the beauty and all that. It’s just plain dangerous. Dangerously beautiful is what he is.
His eyes zone in onto the spot of my arm, where Dr. Allen still seems to have his hand. He looks up at my face before staring straight at Dr. Allen. GQ does not look happy. I’m stuck, literally stuck in place, stunned. He’s here, I know he said he would be back to pick me up, but why on earth would he do that? Not for one second did I entertain the idea that he would actually be here when I finished work.
Zac must realise that I’m in a state of shock. He pushes off the car and stalks towards us, stopping in front of me, removing my gym bag off my shoulder and hiking it up onto his own. He holds his hand out and smirks at me. “Sunshine, your chariot awaits.” He’s waiting for me to slide my hand into his; I smile taking the offering, momentarily shocked by the electric heat that comes with the contact. When I meet his eyes, I can see he felt it too.
It’s clear he doesn’t care to be introduced to Dr. Allen, he is totally ignoring the doctor’s presence. I introduce them anyway, because I’m polite like that. “Zac, thanks for coming. This is Dr. Allen. Dr. Allen, Zac.” I wave my free arm between the two making quick of the introduction.
Dr. Allen looks between our joined hands, and asks, “Zac, how do you know Alyssa?”
Before Zac can answer, I respond, “were friends.”
Looking up at Zac I can tell he doesn’t look like he likes my response, looking me up and down before giving his own, “good friends.” Zac then turns to me. “Are you ready to get out of here? The night is young sunshine,” he hint
s, raising his eyebrows suggestively. I laugh a little and nod my head. Zac leads me towards his car as I glance over my shoulder and give a brief goodbye to Dr. Allen; I do have to work with him.
Zac opens my door for me again, he either thinks I don’t know how to open my own doors or he’s the last true gentlemen on this place called Earth. Once I’m sitting in the seat, I expect him to close my door, he shocks me once again when he pulls the seat belt over me and buckles me in.
Smirking, he says, “need to make sure you’re securely in place.” I’m assaulted with his mix of woodsy citrus scent that seems to be unique to him alone, his scent travels through my nose and straight to my core. I’m still wondering if it’s normal to be so turned on from the way someone smells when Zac jumps into the driver’s side.
He reaches over the back of my seat, pulling out a take-away bag from my favourite Thai restaurant. He looks at me a moment then placing the bag on my lap says, “I figured you probably haven’t eaten properly today so I picked you up something. It’s chicken pad Thai, there’s a fork in the bag, you can eat while we drive.”
I’m stunned speechless and left wondering if maybe he has some weird food fetish. “That’s twice today you’ve brought me food. I don’t know if you have some kind of weird food fetish or not, but right now I’m starving so I don’t really care.” Taking the take-away container out and pulling the lid off, I inhale the smell of the Thai dish.
“Thank you, this is my favourite Thai food,” I add before digging in, not even caring if I’m making a mess of myself.
“I know it is,” he smirks at me.
“Wait, how do you know this is my favourite? You don’t even know me.” I turn to look at him, secretly praying that he’s not some secret, crazy, murdery-stalker I didn’t know I had.
He laughs at my obvious distress. “Relax, I swear I’m not a stalker. I sent Sarah a message before I picked you up and asked her what you would eat. She told me the restaurant and meal to order, so really all credit should be pointed at her.”