Chapter 2
Garrett
September
“Don’t even pretend you didn’t want this,” I warn Rory as she trembles through an orgasm aftershock.
“We all want things that are bad for us,” she pants back. And then, maybe because she’s still shaking, she adds, “Or things that are too good.”
Since she didn’t text me again after our first hookup, it couldn’t have been that good. Not until she was ovulating again.
I know how to count. I can picture the mini pills she takes to keep her periods manageable—and I try not to think about the fact that she wants us to use condoms now, too, even though her nightly pill was always enough in the past.
It’s none of my business what she does with anyone else. I’ll focus on the fact they aren’t who she turns to at her horniest time of the month.
This time, I made sure to get her off with my mouth before I yanked her down my body and shoved my cock in her tight, wet heat.
We also managed to stay on the couch, but that’s where the civility ended.
“I think I scratched you,” Rory mumbles into my neck.
“You offering to do first aid?”
Her lips move against my skin, but she doesn’t reply. Just exhales as she pats my shoulder, then climbs off my lap.
Yeah, it’s time for me to go. I’ve been here for an hour, and I can feel the walls closing in.
In the months leading to our breakup, I started to notice that we could spend about ninety minutes together before tension would boil over. After a decade of never fighting, an hour and a half fuse was suffocating.
Now it’s an irritatingly short window to cram as much hot, desperate sex into as I can manage, so she’ll hopefully slide into my messages again.
She picks her panties up from the floor and hops into them. Then she crosses her arms over her bare tits and glares at me. “Do you have plans tomorrow morning?”
My whole body tightens up. I’m not sure I heard her correctly. “You want to get breakfast?”
She snorts as if that’s ridiculous. “I want you to meet me at the hospital after morning rounds so I can suck your cock again.”
Ah. Just sex. “Sure, I’m free. Whenever you want.”
She frowns. “This shouldn’t become a routine for us.”
“Because orgasms are terrible.”
“Because we broke up.”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.” But there’s a huge difference between shouldn’t and won’t. After two incredibly hot hookups, and her already wanting a repeat in the morning, I’m pretty confident that I’ll be getting another text from Rory before too long.
Whether that’s healthy, though…. That’s another question.
She’s clearly thinking the same thoughts. “I’m just saying, we need to fully get it out of our systems. Completely. So there’s no more….”
I raise my eyebrows. “No more what?”
“Never mind.” Right on schedule, Rory shuts down, like spending time with me is exhausting. And maybe it is. Maybe I asked too much of her when we were together.
Lesson learned.
If she just wants a hookup, that’s all I’ll be for her.
Of course I make myself available the next morning. She’s waiting outside the hospital when I pull up, and after hopping in, she directs me to a parking lot not far from the hospital.
“I got you a breakfast sandwich,” I say as I pull away from the curb. “And coffee.”
“That wasn’t necessary.”
She grabs it, though, doesn’t she? “Better than a vending machine.”
“No commentary required.”
“Name one hot meal you’ve had this week.”
“We’re not doing this.”
“Doing what? Talking about basic self-care?” I hold up my hand, cutting off her protest. “Fine. The only help I’m allowed to offer is orgasmic. Got it.”
“Garrett—”
I pull into the thankfully empty parking lot. We might not even have ninety minutes this morning, so I better make what time we do have count.
She takes one last bite of her sandwich, then shoves it in the brown paper bag as I undo her seatbelt.
I fucking love scrubs. They’re so easy to slide my hand into.
I get her off first, my lips against her ear alternating between dirty talk and reminders that we could get caught—which, for Rory this morning, counts as dirty talk, too.
“Don’t close your eyes. If you close your eyes, who’s going to tell me to stop if someone pulls in next to us?”
All she has for that is a weak moan, because I’ve got my fingers on her pulsing clit and I can feel how close she is.
“Why’d you pick this spot?” I nip at her ear when she doesn’t reply. “Want to get caught?”
“N-no.” And then she shudders, her thighs clamping tight around my hand, coating my fingers with a flood of arousal.
“Fucking beautiful,” I growl.
As soon as she releases her python grip on my hand, I lift my fingers to my mouth, licking them clean.
She blushes, and that makes her taste all the sweeter. I didn’t appreciate her blushes enough when we were together.
“My turn,” she says breathlessly.
Fuck, I shouldn’t like how eager she is to get her tongue on my piercings again. But then she does, and her fingers too, and thinking is beyond me. I explode in her mouth with embarrassing speed, but she seems pleased that she was able to pull that from me so quickly.
She doesn’t notice me staring at her lips as she chugs the lukewarm coffee, then fixes her scrubs.
Her pager goes off as I pull up to the hospital.
“Thanks,” she tosses over her shoulder as she reads the message.
“Did that get it fully out of your system this time?”
She stops reading.
Thin ice, bud. I keep going, though. “Yeah, me neither. See you next month.”
“Bold assumption,” she mutters.
Ah. So she’s still not comfortable with whatever it is we’re doing here. Fair enough. I shrug. “Sure. You’re the one with the busy schedule.”
I don’t bother to point out she’s also the one with the hormonal cravings.