Chapter Five
Quinton
“He what?” I gaped at Lucia.
“He yelled at Sheila.”
I blinked. “Whatever for?”
“She was on her phone. On a break, I might add.”
“Jackass.”
“Yeah. It gets worse.”
I braced myself. “Yeah?”
“Her daughter didn’t get off the school bus, and Sheila was frantically trying to find out what happened.”
Sheila’s daughter was all of five years old, and this was her first year in school.
“Tell me they found her.”
“Yeah. She got on the wrong bus. Both drivers have been reprimanded. But Sheila could barely finish her shift. If we hadn’t been down so many nurses, I think Marlena would’ve just sent her home.”
“I could’ve covered.”
Lucia arched an eyebrow.
“Okay, probably not.” I’d been up to my eyeballs in dialysis patients on the ward. As much as I wanted to, I simply couldn’t be in two places at once. “How’s she doing?”
“Heading home and incredibly grateful everything worked out.” Lucia pulled on her winter coat. “And you?”
“I’m thinking I have someone to give a piece of my mind to.”
She arched an eyebrow. “That wouldn’t be a new cardiothoracic surgeon, would it?”
I shrugged.
“Quinton.” No missing the warning tone. “You might be beloved in this hospital—but he’s a surgeon. One might be difficult to replace, but the other is damn near impossible. You know admin will side with him over you—even if he was in the wrong.”
Pursing my lips, I considered my options. “I can’t stay silent.”
“You also can’t afford to lose your job.”
“Marlena won’t let them fire me.”
“You want to bet your paycheck on that? You want to live on your mother’s pension check if she finally retires?” Lucia wound a scarf around her neck. “Because you know you won’t get a letter of recommendation. You’ll be blacklisted.”
I wanted to say she was exaggerating—but she wasn’t wrong. “I’ll take all that under advisement.”
“You do that.” She stared at the toque in her hand. “Nope. I’m too vain and I don’t want my hair fucked up. Goodnight.” With that, she headed out.
I hesitated—for a nanosecond—before heading off to Dr. Attitude-Adjustment-Needed. Surprisingly, I found his door open. I knocked, entered, and shut it behind me.
He rose from his desk. His hair was a little disheveled. He had his glasses pushed into that hair and he pulled them on, blinked, then met my gaze. “Oh.”
“Oh? That’s all you can say? Oh?” I glared.
He cocked his head. “You look quite angry.”
“Fucking right I’m angry.”
He blinked. “Oh.” He winced. “Still inarticulate. I’m kind of busy—preparing for a complicated surgery—”
“Did you know Sheila has three children?”
“Uh—” He removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes, then put them back on. “Who is Sheila?”
“Oh my God. You yelled at the woman and you don’t even know her name?”
He frowned. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I know her name. I’m busy with—”
“You can fucking make time for me.”
Again, he blinked. “Are you here formally? Are you part of the union or administration or…?”
I pursed my lips. Well, I couldn’t bluff my way out of this one. “I’m here as a concerned coworker.”
“Did she ask you to come?” Another frown.
“No.”
“Ah.” He scratched his stubbled jaw. “And does she know you’re here?”
“No.”
“Do you think she’d appreciate you barging in here on her behalf? Like Sir Galahad?”
This time, I blinked. “Huh?”
“The pure and gallant knight from King Arthur’s court.” He flapped his hand in front of his face as if swatting away a fly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “So you’re here to defend her actions, but without her knowledge.”
I frowned. “She doesn’t need defending.”
“And yet you’re here.”
“Did you report her?”
His eyes widened. He held my gaze. “I did not.”
“But you wanted to.”
“What I did or did not want was irrelevant. Needless to say, if I see such behavior again, I won’t be so lenient.”
“Lenient? You dressed her down in front of colleagues.”
“She deserved it. She was inattentive. She was reckless—”
“Her daughter got on the wrong school bus and was missing. Sheila’s a single mom with three young children.
Her husband died last year from a heart attack.
Just twenty-nine. Undiagnosed cardiomyopathy.
So not only was she dealing with his sudden death, but she was panicked about her children. ” I put my hands on my hips.
“Oh.” He frowned again.
“So maybe you should determine if there’s something wrong before you berate someone. And, for the record, she was on a legitimate break. She didn’t want to leave the floor because they were short-staffed, but she needed to ensure her daughter was going to be okay.”
“And is she? Going to be okay?”
“Hopefully. I don’t know how traumatized the girl was. Some kids bounce back from shit like that and some have lingering effects. Say a prayer that she bounces back, because Sheila doesn’t need any more shit going on in her life right now.”
“Or ever, it sounds like.”
“Right?” I glared. “Maybe take the time to, I don’t know, consider your actions?”
He pursed his lips. “Patients die when nurses make mistakes.” He removed his glasses, put them on his desk, and rubbed his eyes again.
“Patients die when doctors make mistakes. Seems to me that’s a two-way street. Unless, of course, you never make a mistake.”
Dr. Leopold Rodgers appeared thunderstruck. With his wide eyes and open mouth, he also looked like a landed fish. “I…I don’t make mistakes.”
I couldn’t have heard him correctly. “Everyone makes mistakes. You’re human. You’re not infallible. I mean, maybe nobody’s died, which is awesome, but everyone makes mistakes.”
“No. I don’t.”
The arrogance. The absolute arrogance. Because even the most skilled practitioners made errors. No one was perfect.
No one.
“Right. Whatever. I have to go.” I turned and headed toward the door. I had it partly open when Leo—reaching over me—slammed it shut. Well, okay then. Obviously I pushed his buttons. I turned to face him. “Seriously?”
His vivid-green eyes were open wide, and his nostrils flared.
“Oh God. If you think you’re going to scare—”
He grabbed my cheeks as he lowered his head.
Our lips crashed.
He pushed me up against the door.
For a fleeting moment I wondered if I should knee him in the nuts for not getting my consent. Fuck it. You know you want him. So, instead, I grasped his hair and tugged him closer.
His cock rubbed against mine as he shoved me against the unyielding wood. Even through denim and khaki, our shafts pressed together.
Leo pulled back to stare into my eyes. “Want you. Fucking need you.”
I canted my hips so our cocks pushed together. “How?”
He blinked—clearly he hadn’t expected this response. “Uh—”
Taking that as consent, I unbuckled his belt, undid his button, lowered his zipper, and slid my hand under his waistband so I could grasp his cock.
He gasped.
I squeezed.
After a moment, he thrust up into my grasp.
I ran my thumb across his slit to gather a drop of precum. Not nearly enough for lube. Should I spit in my hand? Grab the sachet from my wallet?
He moaned and thrust harder.
Fuck it. A little chafing never hurt anyone.
Much.
I tugged experimentally, adding a slight twist.
He moaned again and tucked his face against my neck.
I moved my head to the side to give him better access.
Fucker better not give me a hickie. I could sweet talk my way out of a lot of things—especially with coworkers. With Mama? Nothing made its way past her. I picked up the pace of my tugs.
His breathing hitched. “Jesus, Quinton.”
Oh yeah, he was enjoying himself. I set a punishing rhythm as I willed him to come.
He needs this. Hell, I need this. Probably as much as him.
Because this was me taking control in the same way I had in the hotel room.
He might’ve done the fucking, but I was an incredibly bossy bottom who demanded satisfaction and wasn’t afraid to ask for whatever I wanted.
He jerked as his pace faltered.
I redoubled my efforts. “You’re fucking coming, Leo. Do you understand this? You don’t have a choice.” Again, I swiped my thumb over his sensitive slit.
He came.
Spectacularly.
As he spurted cum all over my hand, he rubbed his cheek against my neck.
I’m going to have beard burn for certain.
Oh well. I had a scarf and, just as importantly, I knew how to duck out of the hospital unobserved.
“Jesus.” Leo’s harsh breath against my neck tickled.
“Nope. Just Quinton Li.” I wiped my hand on the inside of his boxer briefs. How he escaped here without detection wasn’t my problem.
“You…?” He pulled back to meet my gaze with unfocused eyes.
“What about me?” I blinked up at him—hating he was taller than me.
“You haven’t come.”
I laughed. “You noticed. I don’t give a shit about that. My coat’s long enough to cover my boner. It’ll be gone halfway home.”
“Or…”
I cocked an eyebrow.
Slowly, with evident deliberateness, he sank to his knees.
Jesus fucking Christ. Is he…?
Yep. He was. He unbuttoned my jeans, lowered my zipper, then yanked down my briefs and jeans.
Cold air hit my cock, but my erection didn’t wane. Nope. If anything, under his scrutiny, I got harder.
He licked a drop of precum at the tip.
I jerked my hips.
His grin widened. He swirled his tongue around my crown, then sucked me into his mouth.
Warm wetness enveloped me, and I damn nearly came on the spot.
Hold out. For just a bit. Because he’s going to make it so fucking good for you.
He’d done this before but, more importantly, he didn’t do anything by half measures.
I might not know everything I wanted to about Leo Rodgers—but I knew this.
He continued to pull me farther and farther into his mouth.
I resisted the urge to thrust. Making the good surgeon gag just didn’t feel like the right move at this moment.
He tongued my slit and then raked his teeth gently along my length.
“Coming is a distinct possibility.” I said the words through gritted teeth. Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t fucking come—
He deep throated me.
I came.
Spectacularly.
Hard. So hard, I banged my head against the door when I arched my neck back.
Waves of pleasure crashed over me—again and again and again.
I soared far above the earth and circled the mountains outside town. I looked down to see forests of green. Then, back in the office of the most arrogant surgeon I’d ever met, I gazed down into his deep-green eyes.
He continued to suck and, eventually, pulled off me with a pop. Then he kissed my deflated cock, licked his lips, and rose.
Before I could react, he had me plastered against the door again with his tongue thrust into my mouth.
I could taste myself. So carnal. So fucking hot.
Finally, he pulled back. His eyes appeared unfocused. Because he’s not wearing his glasses? I didn’t know him well enough to begin to guess now nearsighted he was. Or maybe they were reading glasses.
He grabbed his crotch. “Good thing I have an extra pair of pants.”
I cocked my head.
“Patient threw up on me once, and I learned just to keep extra clothes in my office. I also have scrubs, of course—”
“I should get going.” I yanked my underwear and jeans up—tucking my very spent cock into them. I zipped up, gave him one quick kiss, and was gone.
Only when I was on the highway back to Mission City did I realize we hadn’t settled anything.