by B. B. Hamel
“Look at you,” he growls. “Delicious little thing.”
I feel his hardness against me as he teases my wet pussy. I’m extra wet now from my orgasm, practically dripping onto the floor. He presses against me hard, and I feel his tip tease as he pulls me over my shoulder and kisses me.
I kiss him back, hungry, heart hammering.
“You think I’d let you go that easily?” he murmurs in my ear. “Oh no, pet. I need to have you. I need to fuck your tight pussy and make you think about what you’ll be doing for the next two weeks. After tomorrow, my pet, you’re all mine. All of you. And I promise, I won’t go easy.”
I moan and kiss him again before he pushes me down and slides his cock deep between my legs.
I let out a gasp as he fills me. He’s so big, god, he’s huge, and I just can’t get used to that. The pain, the pleasure, it rocks through me as he fills me up.
But slowly he slides in and out and pulls me against him again. He kisses me over my shoulder, his cock buried inside me. I groan and roll my hips and take him deep. It feels so good, so freaking good I can barely breathe.
He fucks me faster then, spanks my ass, takes me. I gasp, grabbing onto the table, pushing back against him, feeling his shaft push deeper inside of me.
“That’s right,” he groans. “Go ahead. Ride my cock, girl. Go ahead, ride it.”
I push back and back, moving forward and back, sliding up and down him. He grabs my hips, spanks my ass, pulls my hair. His hands are firm and rough but he knows just where to touch me, just how hard to spank me. It drives me wild as I push against him over and over.
He grabs me again, turning me around this time. I gasp as he lifts me onto the table, spreading my legs wide.
“I want to see your face when I fuck you,” he whispers, biting my lip. “I want to see your face when you come on my huge cock.”
“Oh, god, yes, Westin,” I moan as he spreads my legs wide and slides himself inside me.
He fills me so easily. We move slow at first, his lips kissing mine, before he pushes me back onto my elbows and grabs my legs tight. He thrusts inside me, fucking me deep, rougher now, harder. I gasp, my breasts shaking under my shirt and bra. He fucks me and I can barely control myself. My fingers dig into the table as pleasure tears its way along my spine.
“Gorgeous fucking girl,” he groans. “You feel like heaven, you know that? Every inch of your tight little pussy is incredible. I can fill you up every day, every single fucking hour. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of your tight, wet, delicious little cunt.”
He fucks me faster, faster. I take him, gasping, moaning.
We’re moving as one now and there’s nothing else in the world. There’s only this point, this moment. We’re two bodies sweating and working and fucking and I can’t imagine anything without him in this moment. It’s bliss, it’s heaven, it’s so good I can barely stand it any longer.
And together, god, together, we move. We grind and fuck, and I’m so close I can’t do anything but whisper his name.
He whispers mine right back. We’re singing a chorus, fucking, bodies moving, pleasure mounting.
I come first. I come in gasping spurts of pleasure, but he’s not far behind. He comes inside me, filling me up, exploding himself deep into my tight pussy. He holds me tight as we keep moving, coming together, coming so hard I think the table might break.
But it doesn’t. When we’re finished. I lean against him, breathing heavily as he wraps his arms around me.
“That was probably a bad idea,” I whisper.
“Yeah? Because you couldn’t be quiet.”
I smile. “Pretty much.”
“Not that I can blame you. That was good.”
“Yeah. It really was.” I look up and kiss him gently.
“But you know we still have work to do, right?”
I groan. “Can’t you do it without me?”
“Maybe. But it’ll go faster if you help.”
“I know.”
We kiss one more time and linger there a little longer. I can tell he doesn’t want to stop holding me, but he has to sooner or later.
We get dressed side by side without speaking. When we’re done, we pull our gloves back on.
“Let’s do this,” he says simply.
I nod and follow him back into our operating room.
Together, side by side, we get back to work.
22
Bailey
The next morning, I’m so nervous I think I might puke.
“You can’t eat, Mom,” I say when she shambles into the kitchen and collapses onto a chair.
“Just some coffee,” she says, grimacing. “Please.”
I frown but make some coffee. “Just a little.”
She grumbles but doesn’t fight me.
After we finished cleaning the room, I went back to my mom’s house. She was already asleep and I didn’t want to wake her up, so I just passed out in my old childhood room.
I didn’t sleep long though. I was up before her, nervously pacing the kitchen.
“You look scared,” she says. “Why are you scared?”
“I’m not. I’m just nervous.”
“Huh. It’s like you’ve never assisted with an operation before.”
I roll my eyes. “Stop. It’ll be okay.”
“I know, honey. I’m not the nervous one.”
I sigh and sit down, forcing myself to stay calm. “Okay, so you’re all set, right? I mean, we went over all the prep yesterday before I left, so—”
“Honey.” She reaches out and takes my hand. “Listen to me. Whatever happens, it’s going to be okay. I love you so much for what you’ve done.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
I force myself not to cry. I’m not going to cry right now. It’s not the time for crying, damn it.
Okay, I cry a little bit. Mom smiles and wipes my tears away.
We spend the afternoon together. We don’t do much. We just sit around the house, talking, trying to keep our nerves under control. We watch game shows on TV and make fun of the contestants, but mostly we just talk to each other.
“You know, when you were a little girl, you were obsessed with dump trucks.”
“Really? Isn’t that a boy thing?”
“That’s what I said, but you didn’t care. You were obsessed. You just kept talking about how much could fit into one, all the different sizes, all that stuff. I don’t even know where you were learning it.”
“Preschool, probably.”
“Sweetie, you were like two.”
I laugh at that. “Okay, that’s weird.”
“I know. But anyway, I always knew, even back then, that you could do anything you wanted to do. You know that? You could do absolutely anything.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I mean it. I know my health has been holding you back but maybe, after this surgery, you can finally move on.”
I bite my lip. “Mom, are you doing this for me?”
She smiles and shakes her head then winces. “Oh, god, no. I’m doing it for myself. But also for you, a little bit at least. Is that so bad? I’m your mother, after all.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“Okay, stop. We’ve gotta stop being so sappy. I’m not dying, right?”
“Right. You’re getting better.”
“That’s right. Maybe we should plan what we’ll do after this is all over?”
“Sounds good to me.”
I don’t tell her about Westin’s offer, but that doesn’t matter. We talk about the future for the first time in a long time.
Mom wants to travel. She wants to go back to work for a little while. She wants to dance. She wants to go to the grocery store all on her own, pick out her own food. She wants to cook. She wants to take a bath.
She wants to be a person again.
It feels good, just talking. The hours slip past, slowly but surely, and soon enough it’s time.
Westin shows up around nine at ni
ght. He knocks softly and lets himself in.
“Hello, ladies,” he says, smiling.
“Well, there’s my gallant doctor. Come to drive me to the hospital?”
“That’s right.”
“What service. And they say the healthcare industry is broken.”
“Oh, it’s broken, all right. But I’m trying to fix it from the inside.”
He comes over and helps Mom to her feet. I carry her bag, which doesn’t have much in it, and together we head out into the car. We get her settled with only a little difficulty then Westin starts heading out.
“So, when this is over, we’re taking you right home,” he says. “Normally you’d stay in the hospital a few nights at least so we can monitor you, but that’s not an option in our case.”
“On account of the illegal operation, got it,” Mom says.
Westin laughs. “Right. So instead, I’m taking a few days off and I’m going to stay over with you. That’s still the plan, right?”
“If you can handle it,” I say, smiling a little, trying to make myself feel less nervous.
He grins in the rearview mirror. “Oh, I think I’ll survive. Okay, so, I take some time off, I watch over you for a few days, make sure things went well. Then… then you’re done. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds like a dream, doctor,” Mom says softly.
I squeeze her hand and Westin just smiles.
We get to the hospital a little while later. Westin finds the wheelchair he had stashed in the parking garage and together we get Mom into it. We wheel her into the hospital and head right to the makeshift operating room.
I get Mom into her gown while Westin preps the room. He puts everything in place, checking it all ten times over. He’s meticulous and serious as he gets things into their place.
When Mom’s dressed, we help her onto the gurney. It’s only then that I realize we’re missing something. I join Westin over near the suction machine as he adjusts the light.
“The anesthesia,” I say softly, so Mom can’t hear.
“She’ll come.”
“She?”
“Nany. She’ll show.”
I shake my head. “We’re relying on her?”
“We’re relying on the fact that she wants money more than anything right now so she can fuel her habit. That’s all.”
I frown but I just nod. I’m trusting him now. I’m in his hands.
He sighs. “Okay, Myra,” he says, turning to Mom. “We’re going to go scrub in. You hang tight, okay?”
“Okay.” She gives us a tight smile.
Westin nods at me. We step out into the hall and he leaves a little brick in front of the door to hold it open. We head into a bathroom two doors down where he props the door open again.
He has everything set up. We get into gowns, fresh and clean. He helps me dress and gets me set up, and then we scrub our hands with industrial cleaner.
“It’s intense,” I frown at the stuff as it bubbles on my hands.
“I know, but it works. Come on, like this.” He shows me the correct technique for scrubbing and together we get clean.
It takes a few minutes. We don’t rush it. We do it in quiet, dressed in our gowns.
“When this is over,” he says to me, not looking, “I promise I’ll take care of you both. Okay? Do you trust me?”
I nod and bite my lip. “I trust you.”
“Good.”
We finish scrubbing. We dry off then head back to the operating room.
As we approach, we both slow and come to a stop.
The door is shut.
“Shit,” he says softly.
“You propped it, right? Like we planned?”
“I did,” he confirms.
“Then… someone came and shut it by accident? Maybe my mom got up and…?” I trail off.
His eyes are tight. “Maybe Nany brought the anesthesia.”
We walk to the door and he peers in through the window. I hear him let out a soft grunt and the look on his face is pure devastation.
My heart starts racing. He grabs the door handle.
“Westin,” I say. “You have to scrub in again now. That’s not clean.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t speak. His face looks terrified, pure white, drawn and angry and afraid, all at once.
I follow him into the room, my heart hammering.
Mom is still in her gurney. But standing beside her are two people: Nany, looking at the floor and refusing to meet my gaze, and a woman I don’t recognize.
“Grace,” Westin says.
The woman named Grace looks up just as the name clicks into place for me.
Grace. The hospital administrator.
Oh, god.
My heart leaps into my throat.
This is the worst-case scenario. This is the worst possible outcome.
Nany sold us out to the hospital admin.
Now we’re going to prison. Our lives are over and my mother will be in pain for the rest of her life.
Oh, god.
I stumble backward. I almost want to run, but I could never leave my mother.
The only thing keeping me from crying are the words Westin just spoke. I’ll take care of you.
I trust him. God, I really do.
He did so much for us, tried so hard.
And now it’s all going to be ruined. He’ll never practice again, he’ll probably go to jail, and my mother will stay a broken wreck.
“Hello, Westin,” Grace says. She smiles. “This nice woman here was explaining that you were going to perform surgery on her.”
Mom gives us a sad look. Clearly, she had no other choice.
“That’s right,” Westin says.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Grace’s tone is light but there’s real anger in her eyes.
“This woman needs this surgery. I saw her files. I knew you’d never let me do it, and so I took matters into my own hands. This is entirely on me. These other people didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Grace rolls her eyes. “Right. The girl that’s clearly been scrubbed in right next to you had nothing to do with it. Hello, by the way, I’m Grace Cooper, hospital administrator.”
“Bailey,” I mutter.
“That’s my daughter,” Mom says. “She’s just trying to help me. You have to understand, I’m in so much pain, and they’re just trying to help.”
“I know,” Grace says softly. “I understand, Ms. Phillips. I really do.” She turns and walks back over to me and Westin, her eyes cold. “In the hallway. Now.”
I glance at Westin but he gives nothing way. We follow her into the hall, leaving my mother alone with Nany.
Anger flares up in me.
Nany ruined this. We knew she might but god damn her, she really did it. She took my mother’s chance at a pain-free life away and threw us to the dogs.
“How’d you find out?” Westin asks.
“Janitor caught Nany trying to bring an anesthesia machine down here,” she says. “She didn’t want to rat you out but I told her she had no other choice.”
“I see,” Westin says. “So she got caught.”
“Apparently.” Grace shakes her head. “Westin, what the hell are you doing? You’re a smart man, you have to realize how insane this whole thing is, right?”
He nods. “I know.”
“You didn’t really think this would work? That surgery is tough under normal circumstances, not to mention the chance of infection is insanely high.”
“We cleaned that room,” I quickly say. “Top to bottom. That room was perfect until you came in.”
She glances at me and rolls her eyes. “And some random girl was going to assist you? Come on, Westin. This is just irresponsible and downright dangerous. You should feel ashamed of yourself.”
His face is tight. I can see anger there now, anger instead of fear.
“If you weren’t such a coward, I never would’ve done this.” He steps close to Grace and I feel a little shock
of surprise. She steps back, looking at the anger in his features.
“Westin,” she warns.
“No, listen to me. That woman is in constant pain and I can help her. But you wouldn’t let me operate because you’re so afraid of having to deal with a lawsuit. Do you know how insane that is? Do you know how horrible? How do you sleep at night? Maybe this plan is crazy, but at least we’re trying to help someone.”
She glares at him right back. “I try to help, but I live in the real world. I can’t bankrupt the hospital just to save a few people. I have more than just a few patients.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
They stare at each other. I can feel the anger between them, palpable and intense.
“Please,” I say softly. “Grace. My mother needs this surgery. She really does. We wouldn’t sue, I mean, look at what we’re doing here. She just needs the surgery.”
Grace glances at me. “I get it, I do. I’m so sorry you feel like you had to do this and you let this… this man led you astray. But this is not the way to fix your mother.”
“Then let us do it for real,” I say suddenly. “Let us go upstairs into a proper room. She’s prepped, he made sure of it. We’re ready to go.”
Grace laughs. “No. Absolutely not.”
“We’d never sue. Even if she died in there, I wouldn’t sue.”
“No. I’m sorry, but no. You two already did enough damage. You’re going to be lucky if you don’t both end up arrested.”
“Imagine the news story if that happened,” Westin says softly. He smiles a little bit, but there’s a malicious bite behind his eyes. “How would that look, Grace? Your hospital doing illegal operations in the basement? I bet nobody would come here after reading about that.”
I don’t mention the fact that they’ve had an addict nurse working directly with patients this whole time. If she pushes back, I can always go there. I don’t know why I’m still protecting Nany, and when this is all over, I’m going to make sure she gets some help… and never works with a patient again.