by Nicole Fox
Once I’d brought my lips all the way down to his balls, I let his cock slide out of my mouth, the skin of his prick glistening wet. I began to work more quickly, bobbing my head faster and faster on his cock, taking breaks every now and then to stroke him with my hand and give his head little licks, paying special attention to the ridge of his cock.
“Careful,” he said. “You keep sucking me like that and we’re not gonna have much of a test here.”
“Fair enough,” I said before taking the entire length of him into my mouth one last time.
Still bent over him, I began to stand up straight. But Bryce shook his head.
“I want you just like that,” he said, gesturing for me to bend back over.
“Wow, you’re really ready to exert yourself,” I said as he got up out of bed and put his feet on the floor.
“Just want to prove I’m not all talk,” he said, taking his place behind me.
“Happy to see you try,” I said, a smile forming on my lips.
“Hmm, that sounds like a challenge,” he said.
But before I had a chance to respond, he grabbed the waistband of my scrubs and pulled them down, panties and all, my bare ass now sticking out into the air.
“Didn’t get much of a look at this the other night,” he said, slapping his hand on my right cheek, the slight sting running up through my body, the hint of pain driving me wild.
“Yeah?” I said, my voice now breathy with arousal. “And what’s the verdict?”
He squeezed both of my cheeks hard, giving one another firm slap.
“Let’s just say I’m loving the view.”
With that, Bryce positioned his cock just at the opening of my sex, holding himself there for a moment that felt far, far too long. Then, with a slow movement of his hips, he entered me, filling me completely. I dropped my head onto the bed before me, the pleasure almost too much for me to bear.
After entering me slowly a few times, allowing me to accommodate his massive size, he began to pump harder, driving into me with full force, his hips slapping against my ass over and over. Moans and shrieks began to escape my lips.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed.
“That good, huh?” he said, continuing to pound me.
“No,” I said through my moans. “Can’t … make too much noise.”
But it was so hard. Bryce’s cock felt so good in me that I wanted to scream. Instead, I grabbed a nearby pillow and shoved it under my face, the soft fabric muffling my moans. Bryce pounded harder and harder, plunging into me in a way that I could hardly bear. My legs began to feel wobbly, and I did all I could to brace myself against his onslaught. My hands grabbed onto the bed sheets, and I pressed my face hard into the pillow, my breath hot against the fabric.
Bryce took hold of me by the hips bucking into me at a steady, full rhythm, filling me over and over. Now and again he would bring his hand down hard against my ass, the sharp crack ringing out. I’d never had a man dominate me like this before, and I couldn’t get enough. I felt like I was his to do with as he pleased, and against all my better instincts it drove me absolutely wild.
Soon I began to feel an orgasm building deep within me. I knew that it wouldn’t take much more of Bryce’s pounding for me to cum just as hard as I had the other night.
God, I thought, barely able to form the words in my mind, I’ve never met a man who could fuck like this before.
The impending orgasm grew and grew. I took in a sharp gasp of air, holding it in my lungs, the pleasure forcing my face into a tight, close-eyed wince.
Then, I came. Hard.
The orgasm broke loose, rushing through my body and causing my knees to buckle. I grabbed onto the bed for dear life as I came, doing all I could to not collapse onto the floor. But Bryce held me up, keeping me steady as he continued to pound me. His own orgasm followed soon after, and he unloaded himself deep into me, the feeling of him cumming inside of me giving my orgasm yet another push.
Soon, we were both done, and I collapsed to my knees, the hospital floor cool against my bare skin. We both took in long, full breaths as we recovered.
“So, what d’ya think, doc?” he asked, collapsing onto the bed next to me.
“That’s …” I said, still catching my breath, “… a clean bill of health, as far as I’m concerned.”
Chapter Eight
Bryce
“That was … something else,” said Anya, pulling up her pants and panties as she searched around the room for her shirt.
“Yeah,” I said, “not bad for a guy who just got hit by a car, huh?”
She turned and flashed me a sexy, sly smile that almost made me want to bend her over and do it all again.
“I see your high opinion of yourself is in just as good shape.”
I shrugged—she’d got me there.
“So,” I said, plopping back onto the bed, “when can I get the fuck out of here?”
Anya dropped her shirt on and thought about it.
“Well, I still need to talk to Jeff, er, the senior doctor on staff. He’ll make me sign out on you, and it shouldn’t be too much longer after that. Maybe an hour, depending on what kind of a mood he’s in.”
I grunted. An hour was better than overnight, but I still wanted out of this place now.
“That a problem?” Anya asked.
“Just rather get going now,” I said. “These sterile lights are making me crazy; it’s like being stuck in a Wal-Mart; I don’t know how you do it.”
“Well, a steady paycheck helps,” she said.
Then an inquisitive look crossed her face.
“Speaking of which, I don’t even know what you do for work. I’m guessing ‘professional fighter’ isn’t it.”
“Hey,” I said. “I fought off three knife-wielding murders; my ass-kicking skills are pretty damn solid.”
“Not your ‘avoiding car’ skills, however,” she said with a smirk.
“Low blow,” I said, tossing one of the shitty little pillows at her.
“Okay, well, let me get started on buttering up the good doctor.”
Then she held up a stern finger, as though she were a middle school teacher scolding me.
“And I’m serious—I don’t want you coming back here whining and complaining if something happens to you. Keeping you overnight isn’t just policy; it’s for your own good.”
“I get it, I get it,” I said, becoming annoying with the mommy routine.
Then, just as she turned to leave, the phone in the room rang. Anya’s eyes narrowed in confusion, and she walked over to answer it.
“Expecting a call?” I asked.
“I could ask you the same thing,” she said, picking up the phone.
“Hey, Katie,” she said. “No … visitors? I … don’t think so … wait … what?”
Then she held the phone out from her face and looked at it with curiosity.
“You expecting anyone?” she asked. “The nurse upfront just told me that a couple of guys are here looking for you.”
“What?” I shouted.
This wasn’t good. The only ones who’d be coming here for me would be Spider’s men to finish the job.
“Yeah, then the line went dead.”
The stomping of heavy boots sounded through the door, and they were getting louder by the second. Anya held up a finger to me before opening the door a crack.
“Hey, you can’t be in here!” shouted some pudgy, balding doctor in the hallway.
But before whoever he was talking responded, I could see the flash of a fist flying through the air, connecting with the doctor’s face and sending him flying backward and out of sight.
“Shut the door!” I shouted.
Anya complied, slamming the door shut and locking it.
“Who the hell are those guys?” Anya said, bracing her back against the door.
A boom sounded as a fist slammed into the door.
“Oh, Bryce-y,” said a gruff voice in a sing-song tone. “Come on out; we just wan
t to drop off a get-well-soon card.”
Fuck! I thought.
“They’re the guys who put me in here,” I said.
“What?” shrieked Anya.
I didn’t respond, instead scanning the room for a way out. I jumped out of bed and pulled the window behind me open, the cool, early evening air rushing into the room.
“You. Window. Now,” I said, pointing to the parking lot. “This is my shit to deal with.”
Another bang sounded against the door.
“Last chance, Bryce,” said the voice through the door. “Open up now, or we kick this fucking thing down. And you won’t like what’ll happen if we have to go through all that trouble.”
“Get out!” I shouted at Anya, who was still braced against the door. “Now!”
Her face was wracked with fear, and she didn’t seem able to move.
“All right,” said the man through the door. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you.”
Then, before either Anya or I could act, a deafening bang sounded out, and the door burst open. Anya was knocked forward by the impact and sent sprawling out onto the floor in front of her. My blood began to boil at the sight of her knocked to the ground, but before I could think about this reaction for too long, the pair of men stepped through the now-open door and into the room.
“There’s our boy,” said the man on the right, a tall, fat man in all black with a head like a thumb.
“Nice of you to wait here for us,” said the other man, another bald guy, this one with darker skin and a long, curved scar up the side of his neck.
“Beating up a guy while he’s laid up in the hospital,” I said, standing my ground and readying myself for a fight. “Pretty low, even for a couple of shithead thugs like you two.”
“Big words for someone who’s about to get put in the morgue,” said Thumb-Head.
“Yeah,” said Scar-Neck, “you did some damage to our bud, so this is just as much for fun as it is for business.”
I was confused by this, but upon hearing the words and thinking about them briefly, I then remembered another moment from last night. During the fight, I’d managed to wrest a knife from one of the men. I remembered grabbing the knife, and with a powerful hammer punch, driving the thing handle-side-down into the nose of one of the men. It wasn’t a killing blow, but more than enough to smash his nose into a pulp.
“Oh, yeah,” said. “Now I remember. Went down like a dropped sack of shit.”
The two men exchanged glares as they moved towards me, each with a knife drawn.
“You know just what to say to make sure this as painful as possible, huh?” said Thumb-Head.
But before the two could close the distance too much, a flash of red cut through the air, followed by a loud metal clang. Thumb-head dropped to the ground, revealing Anya standing behind him, a fire extinguisher in her hands and a look of shock on her face.
“What the hell?” demanded Scar-Neck.
I knew an opportunity when I saw it. I rushed towards Anya, who was now frozen in fear. I grabbed the extinguisher from her and, with a swift strike, slammed it first into the stomach of Scar-Neck, then into his face. Like Thumb-Head, he went down hard.
“What … who …” said Anya, her voice weak.
She was clearly in shock.
“Talk later,” I said, grabbing her hand. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Chapter Nine
Anya
Standing over the body of the thug that I’d hit with the fire extinguisher, I could barely believe what I’d done.
“Is he dead?” I asked, looking down at the bulky pile of man on the floor, his mouth slacked open and spreading the flesh of his jowls out.
“You’re the doctor; you tell me,” said Bryce as he stuck his head out of the door and checked to see if it was clear.
I wanted to cry. I couldn’t believe that I’d done something like that to another living person. Bryce must’ve noticed that I was a wreck. He came towards me, squatted down, and put two fingers on the neck of the man, searching through the fat for a pulse.
“He’s fine. He’s just out,” said Bryce.
Then he turned his attention to me, placing his large hands on my shoulders.
“Listen, we have to leave. Now. I know this is fucked up, but we’re both in danger now.”
I nodded my head, my eyes wet with tears. I knew he was right.
“Your … clothes are in the closet,” I said, pointing to the cheap standing closet on the other side of the room.
Bryce looked down at his gown, then over at the closet, as though debating whether or not he had time to change.
“Fuck,” he said, running over to the closet and grabbing his jeans, boots, and a plain white T-shirt with the hospital logo on the upper right chest.
“We had to throw your shirt away … too much blood,” I said, my voice weak.
Bryce pulled his pants and boots on before tossing off the hospital gown. He looked over the shirt for a moment, as though wondering if it was his style. He pulled it inside out and slipped it on, the fabric tight against the hard lines of his torso. The logo was hidden, and it now looked like a regular white shirt. He rolled up the sleeves, exposing his tattooed biceps, and shot me another look.
“Okay, now, for real, we have to go.”
Right as he finished speaking, a pair of cars pulled into the parking lot just outside of the window. Out of them poured a handful of big, tough men who looked like the two that we’d just taken out.
“Fuck!” shouted Bryce. “They’re not screwing around.”
“How’re we going to get out of here?” I asked.
“You tell me,” said Bryce. “Think—are there any back entrances that we could use?”
I wracked my brain thinking of any possibilities.
“Yeah,” I said. “There’s the maintenance exit. But we still have to go through the main hall in the ER.”
“Shit,” said Bryce, his eyes on the men now making their way to the front doors.
Then, the whine of police sirens sounded in the distance. They grew louder and louder by the second, and soon a pair of police cars sped into the parking lot, parking at odd angles across the spaces, a pair of policemen clambering out of each one.
Bryce watched the proceedings with eager eyes.
“I never thought I’d be happy to see the cops,” he said, watching the officers rush towards the entrance.
“Police?” I asked, taking a place next to him at the window. “Then we can just wait for them, right?”
“No way,” said Bryce. “If these guys are the types I think they are, they’ll have no problems taking out anyone who gets in their way, even cops. We can’t risk waiting here hoping for the best. But we’ve got a distraction to take advantage of.”
He ran to the door and peeked out.
“Looks clear,” he said. “Let’s go. Now.”
I nodded and ran to his side. We both looked down the hall, spotting the figures of the men emerging from around the corner.
“Stop right there!” shouted the stern voice of one of the officers.
We watched as the men turned their attention to the out-of-sight cops. They all let out a yell and rushed towards the officers.
“Now, now!” shouted Bryce.
He burst into a run and I stayed as close as I could, catching up to his long strides. Spotting Jeff still sprawled out onto the ground, I kneeled down to make sure he was okay.
“Jeff?” I demanded, slapping his soft cheeks with the back of my hand.
“Huh? What?” he said, coming to somewhat. “People here … I called the cops …” he said.
“We need to get him out of danger,” I said.
“No time!” shouted Bryce.
“Please!” I responded, protesting.
Bryce shook his head and ran over to me. Slipping his arms under Jeff’s armpits, he pulled him out of the hallway and into the breakroom across from the room Bryce had been in. With a heave, he pulled him onto the couch.
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“Who …” mumbled Jeff.
I looked him over one last time; Jeff had taken a hard hit, but he’d be fine.
“Where’s the exit?” Bryce asked, his tone impatient.
“Down where the men are,” I said, pointing. “But we take a right instead of a left.”