“Name,” I demanded.
“Crow.” The racecar driver grinned at me.
“Real name?”
“His name is Christopher Trent,” the church girl, MK, answered in his stead.
I addressed further questions about his identification to her. Once I got the age and details of the patient, I moved onto the important stuff. “Tell me what happened?”
“Car crash.”
It wasn’t the blond that answered. The voice rumbled on a low vibration that arrowed straight to my clit. The vibration was deep enough that it nearly finished the job that Dr. West hadn’t been able to complete. I looked up, and then up some more, into a tall drink of whiskey.
His skin was like lava; the kind that oozes out of a molten chocolate cake. His lips were plump as though he’d been kissing someone very recently. His eyes were hard and intelligent.
“An accident?” I parroted.
Mr. Lava Cake exhaled quietly. “No.”
His words were steady, but there was guilt rimmed at the edges of his eyes. My pencil stopped moving as I focused on him. I had the urge to heal that wound.
“You think they ran him into the wall on purpose?” MK’s voice went shrill.
“Eagle.” The blond patient glared at his dark-skinned friend. It was a warning.
The other man, Eagle, held Mr. Trent’s glare, but Eagle didn’t say anything further.
“Mr. Trent, tell me what happened?” I addressed the blond, but my attention was focused on his friend.
“Please call me Crow,” said the blond. “I didn’t lose control.” He tried to sit up, but when he did he winced in pain.
“Lie back,” I ordered. “Stay still. You might have a concussion.”
“He hit the guard wall really hard,” said MK. Her voice was tinged with tears. “And then there was nothing but flames.”
“I’m fine, I promise,” said Crow.
But I could tell by the way he favored one side of his body that he wasn’t. His friend, Eagle, must’ve seen the same.
“I need to know where it hurts,” I said.
“I’m fine,” said Crow. “I walked away from it. It was a bad wreck. But I got up and walked away. It’s just some scrapes and bruises.”
“How fast were you going?” I ignored his macho excuses and began examining him.
“Hundred and twenty,” he grinned. “Had it for sure. Smoked them all. Until that idiot lost control of his stick.”
“It’s safe to say you have a concussion,” I said peering into his eyes. “But there may be more going on. We need to wait for the doctor to examine you.”
“You’re not the doctor?” asked Eagle.
I looked over at him. “No, I’m a nurse. Nurse Cleo.”
Even while his friend was in pain, Eagle was checking me out. I had the urge to preen, to lean over and show him how round my ass was. But I was a professional.
Dr. West came up to us. “I hear there was a racing accident.” He grinned with eyes bright like a middle schooler arriving just in time to the schoolyard to watch a brawl.
“Mr. Trent was traveling at an excessive speed and hit a wall.” I offered him the chart, but he ignored me.
“How fast?” West asked as he began his own exam.
I grit my teeth. I didn’t know if West was intentionally trying to piss me off to get a punishment later, or ignorantly pissing me off to get a punishment later.
“I’m fine,” Crow repeated. “It’s probably just a concussion, like the nurse said.”
“But I notice that you’re favoring one side and your breathing is labored,” I said. “That could mean you have some trauma to your back.”
MK trembled and squeaked. Crow glared at me like he’d done with his friend. Like his friend, it had no effect on me.
“Back injuries are common in car accidents.” I turned and addressed West. “So to be safe we should order some x-rays for his back, right Dr. West.”
West made some notations on the chart. Then he turned to me without looking at me. “Nurse Cleo, it looks like we’re good here. Why don’t you get these pain prescriptions worked up for my patient?”
I raised an eyebrow at his tone. Standing next to me, I noted that Eagle did the same.
So, this was purposeful pissation. I had the urge to rattle the cage I had on his cock. Instead, I tried to communicate the world of hurt he would be in when I got him alone.
“Of course, Dr. West,” I said as sweet as the asinine in me would muster. “Should I also add an MRI and X-ray for his neck?”
West smiled that fake smile; that condescending smile he gave to patients when he used big medical words. “Do you see that on the chart, Cleo?”
Visions of nipple clamps and ball weights danced in my head.
“Put it on the chart.”
West and I both turned to the patient’s friend. Eagle’s eyes were impassive, but his tone had been implacable.
“I don’t see anything that indicates back trauma,” said West. “It’s probably a waste of money. I don’t want you gentlemen to come too far out-of-pocket.”
“Don’t worry about my pocket,” said Eagle. “Worry about my brother. Add the test.”
Dr. West bristled at the command in that deep voice. His eyes lost focus for a second. Eagle plucked the chart out of my hand and handed it to West.
West shrugged as he took the clipboard. “It’s your money.” He made the notation, handed the chart to me, and walked away.
I turned back to the group. “Listen,” I addressed Crow. “Do not get off this gurney. Lay back and relax.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Crow grinned.
I knew I needed to keep my eye on this one. He was trouble.
“He needs to rest.” I addressed this to Eagle. “Don’t let him move too much. He might feel fine but there could be something else under the surface. Maybe I’m wrong, but I’d rather be sure.”
Eagle nodded. Our eyes connected. An understanding passed between us without words. I had a fleeting vision. What would that tall form look like on his knees? Would he come up to my belly button or the underside of my breasts? Would those dark eyes twinkle up at me as I buried his face between my thighs?
The corner of Eagle’s mouth ticked up as though he’d read my mind. One eyebrow quirked up as though to say, try it and see. I walked passed him refusing to pick up the gauntlet he’d thrown down. I may fuck around with doctors, but I drew the line at patients and patients’ sexy friends. I had ethics; not many, but some.
Chapter Three
After getting his x-rays and a few other tests done, I left Crow resting comfortably in his room with his eagle-eyed brother and his sweet, little girlfriend surrounding him. I walked down the halls to the nursing station.
Along the way, there were a few interns who leered at me. I stared back at them openly challenging them. I had no problem with my reputation at the hospital. West wasn’t the first surgeon I’d bagged. Not by a long shot. And he wouldn’t be the last.
Not a single one of the green interns interested me. I could break each and every one of them in a night. By morning, they’d be begging me to strap on a cock and shove it wherever I pleased. And, by the reddening of their baby cheeks, each of them knew it. Wanted it without knowing that it was a sexual option for them. But the glimpse at the forbidden made them gulp down that lump of sinful desire. It didn’t take long for their eyes to drop along with their lascivious glances.
Yeah, thought so.
In the waiting room, I saw a number of other stragglers from the races. But one group stood out from the bunch. There were two guys there. One was big, like Hulk big. He was tall and dark and very handsome. The other was built like a gymnast; strong upper body and slim, muscular lower body.
Two women hung on the men. The foursome stood in a tight huddle with everyone’s hands or shoulders brushing or embracing each one in turn. Unlike the other girls in the waiting room, these two women weren’t scantily dressed. Also unlike the other girls who w
ere draped haphazardly on the unengaged men hanging around, the Hulk and gymnast had their hands securely wrapped around the two girls.
It was clear that the foursome were two couples. But it looked like they were more. I knew the body language of lovers, and they were all very familiar with each other.
Swingers, maybe? The 70’s fad was making a comeback with the Millennial generation. But instead of the term “swingers” the new breed of twenty-somethings called themselves Polys. I had no delusions about monogamy myself, but I was territorial with the things I considered mine.
The big guy caught my gaze. He took a few steps towards me. I actually considered taking a step back as his massive body blocked my path and my view. His voice was deep and gravelly like a bear who’d stolen a man’s voice. “We’re Crow’s brothers.”
He pointed between himself and the gymnast, who upon closer examination I saw was Asian to the Hulk’s decidedly Spanish, or maybe Latino, features. Brothers, he’d said? Definitely polyamorous.
“How’s he doing?” asked Latin Hulk.
“He’s resting comfortably right now,” I assured him. “We’re running some tests to be sure we know everything that’s going on. We have to wait for the results to come back and then we’ll know more.”
“When can we see him?” This came from the blonde girl sandwiched between the two males. She looked as though she belonged in a church choir, and not the Southern Baptist kind of an urban community. No, she looked like she would sing hymns in a northern, Protestant church.
It was apparent the brothers of this racing crew had a type. The blonde church girl and the prim and proper brunette, MK, back in Crow’s room. But the black woman, with a dangerously-short skirt and fuck-me heels that I had to get my own pair of, didn’t quite fit the pattern. Still, she looked entirely comfortable and in place wrapped in the Asian man’s arms.
“It’ll take another sixty minutes for his tests to come back,” I said. “You can go back there to his room. Just try not to get him excited. I need him to rest.”
The group headed off. Arms around each other. They looked like a family. I stared after them, crossing my own arms over my chest. I felt a tug at my heart and scratched my chest. My eyes tightened as they turned a corner and went out of my line of sight. I turned away and made my way to the reception area where the other nurses were gathered.
“Cleo, can you sign Judith’s card?” asked Midge, an older woman with gray streaked hair. Like most nurses present, Midge had been here for years. She’d gone to nursing school before I was born and had weathered Sacred Heart Hospital when it was a one-story charity hospital run by the church. The hospital had since gone public and taken in any soul regardless of what service they might need, be it contraceptive, sterilization, or abortion.
“I feel like I’m always signing these things,” I said, taking the pen from Midge.
Judith, the previous Head Nurse, was retiring. She’d been at the post less than two years. The Head Nurse before that had only lasted nine months. Some were promoted, others moved to bigger hospitals with larger paychecks, and some left on maternity leave and never came back.
“I hope you’re applying this time,” said Midge. “You would be a shoe-in. You basically run this place anyway.”
I shrugged instead of answering. But I knew she was right. Everyone knew she was right. After three years at the hospital, I had finally put my shoe in the ring for the promotion. But I had no intention of making it public yet.
I liked my current job. I didn’t care to have any more responsibility than I already had. Being an ER nurse came with its own set of stressors. But my situation at home was getting more and more dire. I needed the money that came with the promotion, and this was the best way I knew to get it.
Still, administration was not my thing. I was a people person. I got off on bossing people around. And I could juggle a number of balls in the air at once. But I liked the freedom of checking out every once in a while. And I definitely didn’t feel comfortable with people depending on me; which was ironic since I literally had lives in my hands on a daily basis. But those lives were in and out within a week or so. This would be permanent.
I clenched my fingers around the pen before letting it go. I brought that shaky hand to my forehead and felt a thin sheen of sweat. I took a deep breath and the feeling passed. I had to do this. It wasn’t just about me any longer.
“Any messages?” I asked Midge. My voice was hushed as I asked.
She looked through the pile of sticky notes and shook her head.
I sighed with relief. It had been a rough week at home. No calls from home today didn’t mean anything. I should probably check in. I reached for my cell phone but a loud snap jerked my head up to attention.
“Nurse.”
The thing about nurses is we’re not jumpy individuals. We don’t startle easy from loud noises or fluids leaking out of various human orifices or missing body parts. We lift our heads, assess the situation, and then we get to work.
So when one of the new surgeons came to the nursing station, arms waving, face red, voice barking, we lifted our heads calmly.
He spoke with authority. But one look at his fresh white coat, clean scrubs, and pristine loafers didn’t sway a single nurse. Not a single one of our scuffed shoes, or faded scrubs jumped at his command.
“I need a nurse,” he demanded.
A few eyes found his. Eyebrows raised or eyes rolled. No patient was in danger of dying, we would know. We’d know it way before he did.
The baby doctor looked around the group like an indignant toddler whose mother gave him Cheerios instead of Fruity O’s. I had a sudden urge to break him. I wanted to see what he’d be like when he whimpered and crawled when I wouldn’t play with his little wee wee.
“I’ll take care of it for you.”
The voice didn’t surprise any of the nurses. No one even bothered to turn to look at its owner.
Nurse Charity Clarke sauntered up to him in her size-too-small scrubs that gave a view to her cleavage.
“It’s nice to know that some people around here are willing to do their jobs.” The baby doctor waved his arm in front of Charity to precede him. Then he stared at the ass she suggestively wiggled as she walked in front of him.
“She gives all of us a bad name,” said Midge.
“No,” said another nurse. “That’s Cleo. Her sleeping around with them like a cliché is what gives nurses a bad name.”
I didn’t take offense. Especially when it was said with a giggle. “Where else am I going to find a quality lay? I earned my reputation, and I’m not easy. Just ask Dr. Winkler or Dr. James or Dr. West.”
The cackling and giggling that always accompanied my antics came to a dead stop, like the needle of a record player shoved to the side. All the nurses turned away, looking down at paperwork.
I felt the prickles art the nape of my neck. I knew West was standing right behind me. I plastered on a smile and turned around.
Sure enough, West stood behind me, glaring. “You’re needed.”
The command in his voice sent a thrill through me. I had no idea where his anger came from, but it enticed me to follow and see where it led. Hopefully, it would lead down to my sorely neglected clit.
“Yes, Dr. West.”
I followed him, excited to free his cock from its cage and ride it. I was surprised he was ready for another round so soon. I followed him down the hall, but he didn’t go into our normal restroom, or supply closet, or back stairwell. Instead, he went into my supervisor’s office.
That fucking, weak pussy. He held the door open for me. I glared at him as I walked past.
Chapter Four
“Come on in, you two,” said the hospital’s Nursing Director, Wanda Steele. “Take a seat.”
Wanda was at the same time a tolerant tyrant as she was a laid back micromanager. She’d back up any nurse who had a dispute brought against them by a patient or doctor. But behind closed doors, she’d read you the riot
act if you crossed a line that was important to her.
Today, she looked weary around the edges of her eyes. Her usually perfect makeup needed another application. And her wig was slightly askew.
For anyone else, this might be a typical end-of-the-day weariness, but I knew Wanda too well. She was never weary. Unless she was coming down with something. I put a hand on the seat farthest from my boss, but I didn’t sit.
“What’s this about?” I asked standing my ground.
“Dr. West has filed a complaint about you,” said Wanda, a sigh evident in her voice. “He says you countermanded him in front of a patient.”
“Can he speak for himself?” I stared West down. He did not meet my eyes. “I made a suggestion based on the information I gained from the patient intake. Are you mad at me for having my patient’s best interest in mind? Or are you mad because a patient’s family member got in your face?”
Just the thought of that tall, dark and sexy mass of yumminess making West grovel got me wet. I hadn’t played a good game of cuckold in a long time. Eagle would be the perfect candidate for such an adventure. And West would make a great pawn to shove around the board.
“You act inappropriately around me. Sexually,” West said. His lips pinched together like a baby with a soiled diaper.
“Do you really want to have a conversation about our sex life here?”
West flustered. He flung his arms out in my direction and turned to Wanda. “You see what I mean about how she’s been sexually harassing me?”
“How am I sexually harassing the man I’m dating?”
West turned red. His fists balled. And I kid you not; he stomped his foot. “We are not. I’ve never taken you out.”
“Out is not a part of my definition of dating. I’m not interested in watching you eat or hearing your opinion on a movie. We’re fucking. That doesn’t require going out anywhere.” I cocked my head and reexamined him. “Unless there’s some exhibitionist tendencies you haven’t told me about?”
Slippery When Wet Page 2