Bad Boy, M.D.

by Virna DePaul

  Tell me how much you wish I was there with you right now.

  I do. I wish you were here to feel this, I typed.

  I could tease you, in and out all night long, Lana. My thumb rubbing over the head of my cock wouldn’t feel as good as rubbing it against your clit.

  He was going to be the death of me, and with only a few dirty words. Pushing my fingers in a little further, I began working myself in earnest, feeling how slick this unlikely encounter was making me. I used my other hand to tease out another message for him.

  I can feel your hard cock inside me.

  That’s right. Imagine me inside you, filling you up.

  Filling me up. YES. It was impossible, insane even, but I was getting close. That tingling, clenching sensation deep in my core was turning into a raging inferno. Was he stroking himself in time to mine? Did he want his fingers inside my pussy, closing his eyes to imagine it?

  That’s it gorgeous, work those fingers in and out, faster now, a little harder. Those tiny fingers couldn’t possibly fill you up like I would. You know it’s just a taste.

  My fingers flew in and out faster now, slicker than ever before. The heat was coiling tight, I was so ready. I needed a release. Needed to feel him deep inside me, rubbing his hard chest against my soft breasts, thrusting deep up into me with every move of his gorgeous hips.

  Oh my God.

  Yes, do it, Lana.

  I could see his beautiful body now, with those striking eyes, that unruly hair tumbling ever so slightly onto his face. It was too much and not enough, all at once.

  My insides clenched as my fingers worked over my most sensitive parts, stroking myself to an explosive, breath-stealing orgasm. My back arched as every muscle in my body tensed up at once, letting the warm, electric sensations roll through me. I collapsed back onto the covers in a state of incoherent bliss, resting my mind and body while I caught my breath. Remnants of my orgasm were still pulsing through my body as I heard the phone ding from my side where I had dropped it in the midst of ecstasy. I picked it up, eyes already half drooping in my newly relaxed state.

  I want to see you.

  Instantly, my fuzzy, post-orgasmic bliss brain got back into high gear. A little sexting with a random stranger was one thing, but a hook-up after this? Meeting with someone in person, after what he…I… had done? What had I been thinking? No, no way. Just no.

  I had a career, a reputation. What if someone found out? What if he was really some creep in his mom’s basement? What if he looked exactly as gorgeous as his avatar and he had an ego to match?

  My phone dinged again.

  How about tomorrow night?

  I paused, fingers hovering yet again. This wasn’t my game. I was older, more sensible, a big girl with big girl responsibilities, not some twenty-something who could play hook-up with random men for a bit of weekend fun. I had worked too damn hard to get where I was, crawled from the bottom up out of that hellhole, secured my place among the best of the best.

  With a decisive stroke I went to settings, and the damn thing asked me if I was really, really sure I wanted to delete all of my information, contacts, pictures and conversations, etc. Yeah, I was sure! I deleted it immediately, and the app icon quickly disappeared, along with HeartBreaker531.

  I had a moment of regret, but only a moment. Easy come, easy go.

  Plugging my phone into the charger, I settled into bed for the second time that night. As my head hit the pillow and the remnant intoxication of both alcohol and sexual release forced my eyelids closed, I summoned up a mental image of Sexy HeartBreaker Adonis’s picture in my head one more time. As I succumbed to sleep my last thoughts were muddled reassurance—he wasn’t really the first man in over a year to make me come…I did it myself with just a little help. He was no one I needed. No one I wanted. We had fun but now it was business as usual.

  Goodbye, Lana, woman-who-obviously-needed-some-so-was-willing-to-hook-up-with-a-hottie-even-if-it-was-only-through-a-dating-app.

  Hello, Dr. Lauren Decker, woman-who-got-that-out-of-her-system-and-is-now-ready-to-focus-on-her-career-and-never-let-a-man-screw-her-over-again.

  Chapter Two

  Lauren

  It was never a dull day in the ICU. Right when I arrived for my Monday shift, I could tell the day would be a hectic one.

  One of the ICU nurses, Cassidy, looked up in relief when I stepped into the nurses’ station. She jerked her frizzy head at me. Although young, Cassidy had quickly made a name for herself at Graton’s Gift Hospital as a hard worker who spoke her mind when necessary.

  “Mr. Hart is an absolute terror,” she whispered to me about her latest patient, annoyance flashing in her eyes. “All night he complained about everything. Nothing I did was right.”

  “He’s in pain,” I explained unnecessarily, as Cassidy was a veteran nurse at this point. She knew why patients were often snippy or downright mean. I probably said it more for myself than her, as a reminder why we did what we did. “You’re an easy target. If he becomes a problem, though, let me know.”

  “If he calls me to his bedside to adjust his pillows one more time, I’m giving him to you,” she said with a wry smile. “I just did his vitals. He’s healing fast enough to go up to the third floor.”

  “I’ll approve that once I check on him,” I said.

  “Good.” Cassidy scribbled something down on a medical chart. She looked up suddenly. “By the way, Marcus is looking for you. He came in here ten minutes ago to see if you were back.”

  Marcus Pierre was Chief of Surgery, though not for long. He was retiring on his fiftieth birthday to travel the world with his wife and the interviews for his position would soon commence.

  Lucky bastard, I thought, then immediately frowned.

  No, that wasn’t right. Marcus wasn’t lucky. He was a fool, that’s what he was. Throwing away the prestigious position of Chief of Surgery in one of the best teaching hospitals in Denver…to what? Climb the Eiffel Tower? Sunbathe on a beach in Hawaii? See the Northern Lights?

  Focus on new things, new people, new experiences, that didn’t involve life and death, and operating rooms for once?

  Actually, it didn’t sound half bad. After all, despite considering myself ambitious, I didn’t want Marcus’s job. And I’d certainly enjoyed my week in the Dominican Republic, in spite of my failure to hook up with anyone. At times, swayed by the tropical breeze and down time, I’d even fantasized about not returning to Graton’s Gift Hospital and my fulfilling yet demanding job. Instead, I’d imagined how nice it would be to take a much longer break, to experience other parts of life for a while. To see to my needs for a change, instead of my patients’.

  I snorted. Well, I’d certainly taken care of my needs when I’d returned, even if it had been only for a night. Boy, I’d taken care of those needs hard. And of course that had me thinking of him and his filthy sex talk which had made me come so hard. And how many times in the past two days I’ve been tempted to find him again on that damn app and request a repeat.

  But no. No way, HeartBreaker531.

  Not here. Not now. Not ever.

  You were a fluke. An anomaly. Contacting you would be stupid—the way the occasional restlessness I’d been feeling, and the idea of being someone other than Dr. Lauren Decker for a change, were stupid.

  I loved my job and I was damn good at it. I didn’t need more. Certainly not a man.

  Even one as hot as HeartBreaker531.

  I cleared my throat. “Did Marcus say why he wanted to see me?”

  “No.” Cassidy shrugged her shoulders. “Sorry.”

  As my boss, Marcus was definitely not someone I wanted to ignore. But I also had patients to attend to, so he’d understand if I found him later.

  I slipped on my white coat and entered Fred Hart’s room. Though in his sixties, Mr. Hart looked twenty years older. A longtime smoker, he’d already had three heart attacks and suffered from emphysema, among other ailments. His biggest complaint, however, was that he was no long
er allowed to eat his favorite bacon cheeseburger regularly.

  “There you are,” Fred grumbled the second I walked into his room. “Those damn nurses don’t know what the hell they’re doing. Where do you find these girls? They poke and prod a man until he’s got no blood left in his body.”

  “Please don’t abuse my nurses,” I said, my tone seemingly light, but my expression anything but. “They’re just doing their jobs.”

  His face stretched into a grimace. “I just wanted a damn cigarette last night.”

  “You had a heart attack last night, Mr. Hart,” I said, as calmly as possible. “We aren’t going to let you have a cigarette. I can’t stop you from smoking at home, but the hospital is definitely off limits. I wouldn’t advise it anywhere, considering you need an oxygen tank to breathe.”

  He grunted. “You women are all the same, not letting a man have a few simple pleasures. How’s that living, I ask you? It ain’t living. It’s being too afraid for living.”

  Some patients came in on the worst night of their lives, usually involving a brush with death. Some listened to what we told them to do. Others, like Mr. Hart, were too old and far-gone to even care.

  “I’m not afraid of living,” I said to him. “I’m more concerned that you won’t continue to live much longer.” I slipped his vital chart onto the front of his bed. “You’re going to be moved up to the third floor today. Hopefully in a few days you will be discharged, as long as you follow the rules.”

  “Good. I want out of here.”

  “You’ll be released as soon as you’re healed,” I said. “Try not to drive the nurses crazy on the third floor. They’re here to help you.”

  I left Mr. Hart to grumble to himself. I slid the door closed before turning to find Marcus waiting for me in the hallway. I bit back a sigh of impatience.

  I liked Marcus – he was fair and let me do my work without much interference. But I had patients to attend to today; I didn’t have time for administrative nonsense. Sometimes I wondered if we went to medical school more to contend with overly complicated hospital rules and regulations than learning how to perform surgery on people’s hearts.

  “I don’t have a lot of time,” I said. I continued walking, and he followed. “What’s up? Cassidy said you were looking for me.”

  “We’re all busy, Decker. Ryan Castle is arriving tomorrow. Or did you forget?” He gave me a sideways glance.

  As if I could, given the way the hospital had been preparing to roll out the red carpet for him. Ryan Castle was a senior resident at New York Metro. He was also the son of medical royalty. His parents had been surgeons at the top of their fields, neurology and anesthesiology specifically, were filthy rich, and would likely be quite amenable to donating some of their money to Graton if given a good enough reason.

  I hadn’t met their son, but I knew he was being wooed to replace Helen Lewis, one of two of Graton’s chief residents who’d married and moved to Australia. As soon as he’d gotten wind of Castle’s desire to move back to Denver, Jacob Randall, Graton’s Hospital Administrator, had been vying for Castle hard, and apparently he’d made progress, because Castle had indicated he was inclined to accept Graton’s offer, with his visit this month being the final hurdle to overcome. Ryan had asked to shadow an attending surgeon for a month to make sure he and the hospital would be a good fit before formally accepting a position.

  In other words, he was going to decide if Graton’s cardiology department, staff, policies, facilities, etc, met his standards. All while having weekends off, of course.

  Spoiled brat.

  For most doctors, getting a residency at Graton’s Gift Hospital would be like striking the mother lode. How was it that Castle was already being treated like a god before he even earned a paycheck?

  Doctors, myself included, had big egos, but in my experience, male doctors invariably believed their penises gave them more knowledge and skill than their female counterparts. One who could get a top-notch chief resident position at the snap of his fingers?

  Thankfully he wasn’t going to be my resident.

  Which made me wonder why Marcus had brought him up.

  “I haven’t forgotten Dr. Castle is visiting us for the month, Marcus.” He was more than visiting. He would in effect be an acting resident, running clinics, and observing and even participating in surgeries. Again, something virtually unheard of, but that’s how much the hospital wanted Castle, or to be more precise, how much it wanted his family’s influence and potential money. “But why is it we’re talking about said visit?” I asked, tucking my chilled hands into my coat pockets.

  Marcus cleared his throat and scratched his temple, which immediately made me narrow my eyes.

  “Well, you see, Lauren… I know we talked about him shadowing Darvin, but now that Darvin’s wife is on bed rest about to deliver, he’s not taking as many shifts and may be out of commission for a while. You’re going to be Castle’s attending for the month…and if he agrees to take the residency position, you’ll be teamed up permanently.”

  Dread curdled in my stomach. I’d been around enough cocky young males to know how to deal with them, but something—some self-protective instinct—didn’t want to have to deal with this one. I opened my mouth to argue with Marcus. What about Valle? Or Lee or Hanson? But staring at my boss, I knew he wouldn’t change his mind and arguing with him would simply make me look weak.

  “I assume things are already in motion?” I asked.

  “They are.”

  “Well thanks for consulting me ahead of time.” I was going to fall into line, but I’d do it letting Marcus know I wasn’t happy about it.

  Marcus had the good grace to wince, but just barely. “Fair enough. Sorry about the short notice, but we want Castle to take this position. He’ll be here tomorrow at 8:00 AM. Make him feel welcome. Show him why being chief resident at Graton is the only way to go. Got that, Decker?” He flashed a brief smile before leaving the ICU.

  “Got it,” I said, even as I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin. Apparently it was on me to convince Dr. Castle that Graton was good enough for him. I didn’t think so. He could shadow me this month, but I wasn’t going to woo him. He was going to have to prove to me he belonged here just like every doctor had before him. “Don’t worry about it, Lauren,” I told myself. “You can handle this. You can handle him.”

  Just like you handled HeartBreaker531.

  Do what you need to do then dust him off.

  Easy peasy.

  Chapter Three

  Ryan

  She was gorgeous. I noticed it as soon as she got on the elevator with me. She was dressed in nurse’s scrubs, breathless and in an obvious hurry as she slipped in just as the doors were closing. We both reached for the row of buttons at the same time. She blushed, smiling and stammering, “Um, three please.”

  “Great,” I said. “I’m going to four.”

  I pushed both buttons, then stood back and discreetly looked at her. Golden blonde hair, full lips, large tits—I could tell even under her blue scrubs—and long, graceful legs. Mid-twenties, maybe. She snuck a peek back at me, rocking slightly on her sneakers.

  “Visiting someone?” she asked.

  “Dr. Marcus Pierre,” I answered. I’d never had a problem talking to women, and my voice sounded warm and confident. “Chief of Surgery. I start my residency today. Of sorts. Ryan Castle.”

  “I’m Amy Meadows.” She smiled again. “I’m in the neuro-ward.”

  “Nice. I’ll be in the cardiac ICU.”

  “Of sorts?”

  “Here for a month. Maybe longer.”

  The elevator slowly rumbled up past the second floor. She peeked back at me again, this time much more direct.

  “Maybe I’ll see you in the cafeteria. Although, the, um, food is terrible.”

  I laughed. “Yeah. I’ll try to avoid the food. Not you, though.” The elevator came to a stop on the third floor. Amy turned to me, cocking her head toward the opening doors.r />
  “Too bad you’re not getting off here,” she said.

  I was just at the ocean. Too bad I didn’t see you there. Would’ve been a game changer.

  All of a sudden, I could barely focus on the pretty blonde nurse in front of me and instead my brain and body were hyper-focused on the memory of the hot as fuck woman who I’d sexted on a dating app. Right before she ghosted on me.

  When I managed to say, “Wish I was getting off here, too” however, I knew I hadn’t given myself away. Flirting was second nature to me. No matter how shit-tired or grumpy I was, I could always flirt with a woman without letting her know my true mood.

  Amy winked at me, then slowly walked off the elevator. Just before the doors started to close, she turned back and waved charmingly. I grinned, and then the doors closed.

  Briefly, I considered heading to the cafeteria at lunch on the chance she showed up there, waiting for me. Probably not a good idea. Chances were there were going to be plenty of gorgeous women—nurses, doctors, techs, administrators—at Graton’s Gift and I wasn’t planning on starting something with any of them.

  After my breakup with Callie, who’d also been a resident at New York Metro, the last thing I needed was to get involved with anyone at this hospital. Our breakup hadn’t been particularly messy, I’d thought—until she started going Fatal Attraction on me at work. I’d been determined to stick it out. After all, I loved the hustle of New York. The days and nights were never boring. There was always something different that happened. I loved it, every single second of it.

  Then I’d heard about my mom’s cancer diagnosis. My poor mother, who’d already been reeling from the sudden betrayal of my father, who’d up and left her after thirty years of marriage to hook up with his secretary. Yeah, real original there, Dad.

  In the end, it hadn’t been that difficult to leave New York behind.