Fake it Baby

by Tia Siren

  “Want some mango juice?” Mark asked.

  She nodded, and I exhaled, relieved for the save. As attractive as Brooke was, I was not going to go there.

  “First, I have to go to the bathroom, though,” Brooke said, heading to the back.

  “Thought there was gonna be no nurse involvement,” Mark said, raising his brows.

  I nodded firmly.

  “And I meant it.”

  “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see,” Mark said, with a knowing smile.

  I ignored him, clenching my fist under the table. Why wouldn’t Mark believe me? He knew my story, and that I wasn’t a ridiculous reckless playboy like he was.

  When Brooke came back, we were treated to a jig on the bright blue piano by Pablo’s wife.

  “Would you?” Brooke asked, glancing at the piano, then back at me.

  “Sure,” Mark said, before I could answer, rising and taking her hand.

  I watched them walk across the wooden floor towards the piano, and bit my pizza with a savagery that surprised me. I had meant what I’d told Mark about Brooke. It didn’t matter how much I liked her, any sort of relationship between us would be dangerous at best, disastrous at worse. But Mark clearly didn’t share my sentiments; look at him there with his arm around her—he clearly had no qualms about trying to incorporate Brooke into his already woman-packed life.

  The music was lively, a sort of Caribbean-sounding jig. Brooke and Mark danced gaily, grinning happily at each other. As Mark conveyed Brooke around, she threw me a joyful wave.

  I tried to tear my gaze away from them, but I couldn’t manage. Every shift of his hand position, as it went lower down her spine, put me on edge and had me gripping the table. What was going on with me?

  I gulped down the rest of my water. The problem was that I was just watching while Mark beckoned Brooke into his bed, as another one of his playmates for the week. The anonymous girls he screwed was one thing, his bed had a greater turnover rate than McDonalds. Figuratively speaking of course, since I doubted if any of them got anywhere near his actual bed. But this situation was different. Was I supposed to sit and watch while he seduced a colleague of mine, a kind and interesting girl who deserved so much better? Not to mention the employment problems that could result. Maybe it wasn’t my place to get involved with her, but it was at least my place to prevent her from the heartache that was practically guaranteed if she got involved with Mark.

  When they returned to the table, they were red-cheeked and out of breath. I smiled unconvincingly, and we continued eating our lunch without incident. Brooke enjoyed her mango juice, Jake and I split the bill, despite Brooke’s initial protests, and we all returned to the office. As the rest of the day progressed, we moved from consultations to surgery, my thoughts returning to Brooke more and more.

  I found it strange that she was so interesting to me. It wasn’t just that she was hot, with those big eyes set over that button nose and pouty lips. It was the expression she wore when she listened to you, the totally-entranced look that came into her eyes. As if she really heard you.

  It was a shame that she was my nurse, because I would’ve given anything to get to know her more. I still hadn’t decided what to do about the Mark situation, but felt like I needed to do something.

  Chapter 4

  Brooke

  “So, which one?” Karly asked.

  I ignored her hawk-eyed gaze. Her inquisitive blue eyes trying to see into my soul.

  “My first few days have been going great,” I said, “thanks for asking.”

  Karly took a sip of her cocktail.

  “Oh please, that’s written all over your face. Your perfect job with your perfect bosses—or, maybe too perfect.”

  I nodded, taking a sip of my margarita.

  “You may be right. We’re all working together seamlessly, like parts of the same machine. But they have been flirting with me, both of them. Jake gets this look in his eye when we talk, while Mark can barely do anything without brushing by me, against me somehow.”

  Karly twirled her straw in her drink.

  “You totally are going to fuck them—aren’t you!” she declared gleefully.

  Horrified, I shushed Karly. The bald bartender with big ears gave us a big smile to let me know that yes, he had heard Karly’s big mouthed proclamation.

  “Sorry,” Karly said, lowering her voice and leaning towards me, “Would you really though?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully, “But I do kinda want to.”

  I sighed. The words had come out by accident. I hadn’t meant to admit the fact to anyone, let alone myself. But now that I’d said it, I felt better.

  “You naughty girl,” Karly said, in teasing tone, lightly hitting my arm with the back of her hand.

  I shrugged.

  “What am I saying? I probably won’t, that would be stupid. I mean they’re both crazy-hot and fun to be with, but geez, it would be too much of a risk.”

  “Personally, I don’t know how you can stand it,” Karly said, just before she gulped down the last of her drink, “Not having sex for seven months. I would die.”

  “Shhh. God, would you shut up?” I said again.

  “What?” she said, “It’s true. And say what you want, you probably could get away with seducing both of them, you know.”

  I took a sip of my drink, then chewed on the straw a bit, thoughtfully. “You really think so?”

  Karly nodded her head, her blonde ponytail bobbing its own agreement.

  “Remember ninth grade? Howlin Carter. No girl could even so much as talk to him, yet you somehow got to second base with him.”

  “Don’t remind me,” I said, shaking my head.

  While the beginning of our courtship had been fairy-tale sweet, with roses, compliments and gifts galore, the ending had been nightmarish. Middle-of-the-night prank calls, and telling the whole school I was a slut. Not to mention those pictures he sent around. Ugh. If anything, Howlin Carter was a cautionary tale for not getting involved in sticky situations.

  “Besides,” I continued, “they’ve been best friends for over ten years. I wouldn’t want to break them apart. And they probably wouldn’t go for it themselves.”

  “Mmm-hmm, whatever you say, Nurse Brooke,” Karly said, her sarcastic tone demonstrating her skepticism.

  Now it was my turn to punch her in the arm.

  “Oh, shut it.”

  “You know I’m right,” she replied, sweetly.

  “Whatever,” I said, rising from my seat.

  “Where you going?” she asked.

  I took her hand and pulled her off her seat.

  “We’re dancing—come on.”

  It took all of three seconds on the dance floor for the first man to approach. Tall, floppy-haired and morose-faced, he first tried me before moving on to Karly.

  Giggling, we laced our arms around each other. This was how we pretended to be utterly engrossed in dancing together, to the exclusion of everything else. This was how I planned to spend the rest of the night. Then he tapped my shoulder.

  I paused, and barely turned. In the dark, he was practically invisible with his deep charcoal skin and smoldering eyes. He looked at me with a sort of patient calm, as if he knew I was going to break away from Karly and dance with him. He was right.

  His hand was cold, and he didn’t react a bit when I accepted his hand. It was as if he’d already known it would happen. With his black dress shirt and black jeans, he reminded me of a panther, who—now that he had his prey secured—didn’t much mind what it did.

  His handhold was supple, yet firm. I needed another drink, but he had one for me already. One sip—that was it, then he guided me to the middle of the dance floor where the disco-light flickered. He was spinning me now, stopping me with his hand on my hip. Moving my hips in sync with his. Wrong, that was how it felt.

  Why? The panther was suave and skillful as he turned me and spun me; moved with me and for me. Our bodies were taken over by the same beat
, the same rhythm.

  Further off on the dancefloor I see Karly’s head-bobbing form, her bleached-blonde hair a flash of bright color.

  What was I doing?

  The panther knew. He was conveying us to a booth, comfy and noir. Just like him. Everything had blurred into a pleasant unnatural state. His arm around me, his hand on my face, moving it wherever he wanted.

  It was when our lips hit that I realized it. That I’d been drinking to forget, but right here, right now, only made it perfectly clear. This wasn’t a man I wanted to be kissing.

  No. I wanted to kiss the man with the curly dark hair and dark Bambi eyes. I wanted to kiss the man with the cocky smirk and sandy hair.

  Pulling away, I left the panther behind. Karly grinned when she saw me, and raised her brows in a silent question. I shook my head.

  “You okay?” she asked, her face worried now.

  Nodding, I replied, “I just think I should go.”

  Immediately, she took my arm and walked out of there with me. We took a cab home together, since Karly lived just around the corner from me.

  “I’m sorry for teasing you,” she said, as we stopped in front of my apartment.

  I mustered up a smile.

  “It’s fine.”

  She threw a lithe arm around my shoulder into a hug.

  “I mean it, though. I know it’s a stressful situation.”

  “It’s fine,” I assured her, “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”

  As I stumbled out of the cab and up to my apartment, I wished I could convince myself of that.

  Inside my apartment, it didn’t take me long to get out of my clothes and into bed. There I closed my eyes and immediately thought of them. The ‘hot docs’. Each of them taking one of my hands, leading me into the office, slamming the door behind them. My hand slipped under my PJ bottoms, towards the place that was already wet. Mmm, no harm in enjoying a bit of fantasy. Not when it felt so good.

  Because by now the doctors had started on my clothes. Unbuttoning my blouse, unzipping my pants with a frantic pace that still wasn’t fast enough for the pounding of my pussy. They paused, eyes glittering, to savor my form, only partially clothed in bra and panties now. Then Jake undid the clasp and swept off my bra, while Mark yanked down my panties. Oh fuck, I was so wet already.

  They paced around me for a minute, eyeing me up and down as if they were still in doctor mode.

  “Yes, looks like it,” Jake said, stopping before me.

  “There’s nothing we can do to improve you,” Mark admitted, pausing beside him.

  “That leaves only one thing,” Jake continued, his gaze completely focused on my breasts.

  Mark lunged ahead, taking me by the throat and growling his answer, “To fuck you.”

  Next thing I knew, Jake’s mouth was latched onto my tit, while Mark had his pants pulled down to showcase his impressive erection. Jake sucked deeply, drawing back to lap at my nipple with his wet flat tongue. Mark’s slick black boxers were off now, too. But instead of letting me get a good look at his dick, he dipped his head sucked my other tit into his mouth. They licked, nibbled and sucked moans out of me, as their mouths skillfully pleasured my breasts.

  They both paused at the same time. Still face to face at my boobs, they looked up at me with their hot and sexy eyes.

  They spoke in unison, “Which one?”

  Jake rose and undid his pants, showing off shiny silver boxers and a bulging dick.

  Mark picked me up, and shoved the paperwork off the desk before he plopped me onto the cool wooden surface.

  He parted my legs with a greedy smile. His gaze met mine, and now his eyes were sea-green and he was advancing. Jake’s lips met mine just as Mark slid his cock into my hot wet pussy.

  “Oh fuck,” I groaned.

  Jake’s tongue slipped through the seam of my lips, twirling around mine. Our tongues tangled as Mark’s cock, slowly and painstakingly, slipped out and into me again. Slow and deep, was how Mark was fucking me. A perfectly tortuous match to the slow and teasing pace of Jake’s kisses.

  Pleasure coursed from my mouth and my pussy as the two men moved, somehow in sync. Tongue twirling, dick sliding, teasing me long and slow. I was already at the edge.

  When they paused, a low groan escaped me.

  “Which one?” Mark asked, as he slid out of me.

  “Which one?” Jake repeated as he slid into me.

  Now the men had switched roles. It was Jake jamming his hard rod in between my slick legs, while Mark’s mouth danced up and down my neck. He kissed and nibbled me to ecstasy, while Jake’s dick had my whole body trembling with what was to come. Faster and faster his dick plowed me, my slower and deeper Mark’s lips and teeth continued their assault. Yet all of it, was still in some sort of rhythm. Jake got one breast and Mark got the other. Oh fuck, it felt incredibly good. Too good. Already I was howling, while grunts and moans were spilling out of their mouths.

  In and out, more and more. Bites and kisses, deeper and harder, faster now until they were shaking, or maybe that was me. Jake’s hands had found my backside, and were fondling and feeling the flesh. My whole body was a thrum of building pleasure—my pussy, my ass, my nipples, my neck—everywhere and back again. No longer was I on the edge—I was over it. More and more, and—oh, fuck yes—more. Jake slapped my ass just as he slammed into me hard. I came just as they did, all three of us in one howling, wet, throbbing explosion.

  My whole body exploded with light, joy and pleasure like never before, and I could hear them say it once again, in unison, “Which one?”

  That was when I woke up. Swearing, I withdrew my wet sticky hand. Falling asleep while touching myself, seriously? The dream got even crazier, once I slept.

  One thing was for sure, clearly evident in both my wakeful fantasy and my dream. I still didn’t know which one I wanted more.

  Chapter 5

  Mark

  Look at that ass. Come on, concentrate, Mark.

  I took a breath and returned my gaze to the operating table in front of me. A woman’s chest opened up wasn’t exactly a nice view, but we had an operation to do. While breast augmentations aren’t the most complex surgery, they aren’t so easy that you can do them without looking and paying attention, either.

  So no more side glances at Brooke and her scrubs, remembering the tight heather grey pencil skirt she’d changed out of for the surgery. Nope.

  “Pass the implant, please,” I told Brooke.

  Seconds later she was by my side, her sterile gloves handing me the silicone gel mound.

  “Me too,” Jake said, from beside me.

  I tried to keep my attention on placing the implant properly, while Brooke handed Jake the matching implant.

  “Thanks,” he said, “Hey, you look great today. I really liked that skirt.”

  My gaze shot up to see Brooke’s face flushing a pleased red while Jake smiled at her.

  I cleared my throat, and he glanced away, then back with an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry, duty calls.”

  As he returned his attention to the implant he was placing, I called to Brooke, “Hey, nice skirt. Wonder if they make pencil skirt scrubs.”

  She giggled, while Jake rolled his eyes.

  “Okay, lothario, how about we concentrate on the surgery here.”

  “Speak for yourself, Mr. Skirt Connoisseur,” I jeered back, although I returned my gaze to the implant before me.

  An hour or so later, Jake and I exchanged a victorious smile.

  As usual, we high-fived, although Jake couldn’t meet my eye as usual. Instead, his gaze went to Brooke. She was wheeling the newly-implanted woman out into the recovery area of the hospital.

  “Lunch?” I asked, and he nodded.

  “Pablo’s?”

  He shook his head.

  “Let’s try something nicer for a change.”

  Inwardly, I smirked, but said nothing. No need to wonder what caused this sudden change of lunch taste.

&n
bsp; A little while later, we’d all finished up and gotten changed, and the three of us met up in the hospital lobby.

  “As tempting as hospital cafeteria food is, Mark and I were thinking of going for something a bit nicer,” Jake said, his eager gaze going to Brooke, “What do you say?”

  “That sounds great to me,” Brooke said, with a grin.

  “Marble Table is just a block away. You have to try their oysters,” Jake said.

  Brooke made a face.

  “I don’t know about oysters, but I have heard good things about that place, so I’m game.”

  As we left the building and made our way down the crowded street, I was abnormally silent. My mind was too busy churning over the happenings of the morning to make any sort of meaningful contribution to the discussion.

  Chunks of conversation replayed in my head, flashes of images: Brooke’s face flushed with laughter as she found the latest addition to our surgery survival kit—a Brooke-labelled rubber duck with pretty eyelashes; Brooke poking me in the side after I’d poked her; Brooke laughing too hard at a joke Jake had made.

  “Great, it’s the old Marlin Street boys.”

  Jake’s annoyed voice snapped me to attention.

  “Shit. Lunchtime on a Thursday?” I asked.

  I followed his gaze to a pack of young men with lifted phones, smart-looking spectacles and clean-shaven, innocuous-looking face. Innocuous unless you knew better, of course.

  “That them?” Brooke asked in an undertone, indicating the pack as they passed by.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “They don’t look that bad.”

  Jake laughed darkly.

  “Yeah, famous last words. They’re the reason Mark and I usually avoid this street. Those guys are literally piranhas—they’ll tear you apart if there’s a good story in it.”

  “But don’t you worry about that,” I said, draping my arm around Brooke in a protective gesture. “Stick with us and you’ll be safe.”

  Jake rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah, sure. More like stay away from us and you’ll be safe. How many times have we been in there this past year?”

  “I dunno,” I said, “Maybe four or five. Anyways, that was only because I was dating that C-list actress for a few weeks, Calista Something.”