Adriana #2
Her cheeks had burned as the mothwoman ladled more sangria into both their glasses.
She still hated the notion that strangers knew anything about her at all.
“Wh-what did you hear?” Her head was swimming.
She very rarely drank, and it was impossible to know what had gone into the sweet, fruity concoction in the punch bowl on the table.
“Oh, just that you knew Trapp from medical school and that he was terrible. I was so shocked! You must have known him very well . . .”
“Did you fuck him?” Avrille demanded, as Muffy wheezed, sloshing a bit of the dark red liquid from her cup. “He has a huge dick, right? He walks like that thing weighs five pounds. It’s a wonder he can even close his legs.”
She was scarlet by then, as red as the wine in her cup, and both women screeched in knowing. “You did! You have to tell us everything!”
When she woke the next morning, it had been with an agonized groan, and the light coming through her bedroom sheers was a physical assault.
Adriana didn’t know what, exactly, she had told Muffy and Avrille, only that they had shrieked in laughter until the sangria was gone and the cheese board was reduced to crumbs.
She’d gone stumbling back to her own townhouse, grateful that she was off the following day, dragging herself up the steps, the room spinning by the time she made it to the third floor, but by then, after a whole night of talking about him, she was too horny to even consider sleeping.
It was telling that the only dildo she owned was of a werewolf.
Thick and veined, just as he had been, with a tapered tip and a fat knot.
The silicone base was a suction cup, and she’d already been naked, pussy practically vibrating, before she’d realized her bedroom was carpeted, and she wouldn’t have enough room in the bathroom.
She’d nearly fallen in her haste to get to the second floor, not even considering how humiliating it would be to fall and have him be the one to find her, his ambulance arriving to her in a naked, horny heap at the base of the steps.
She’d wasted no time getting down on her knees in the middle of the still-empty kitchen, sinking down on the tapered tip, the same way she’d done to his cock a million years earlier, in the campus library.
That was how it had started, all those years ago, at the library.
It hadn’t been a single hook-up, as she’d alluded to at the coffee shop.
She and Trapp had immediately sniffed each other out as the best in their class, and he had been the one to suggest studying together, after weeks of gentle needling.
He would show up at the edge of her table when she beat his score on a pathology test, giving her that brilliant, white-toothed smile, drop a coffee he’d probably bought with his father’s credit card in front of her, smirking down.
Nice job, Adi. Guess you stayed up later than me this time.
Three times a week at the library, reviewing notes, making flashcards, week after week, until the night he had begged off.
The full moon was only days away, but they had pharmacology work to do, she’d insisted.
“I’m too horny for this tonight,” he announced that night at the library, up on the fifth floor, completely alone, the way they liked it.
Her jaw had dropped as he flipped his book closed. “But—”
“Sorry, Adi,” he’d laughed, pushing to his feet. “Unless you want to fuck, I’m not going to be able to focus on pharmacology.”
It hadn’t even mattered that he was a wolf.
She couldn’t remember who had made the first move.
Only that her hand had landed on his belt, tracing the shape of his erection with her nails, drawing his thick shaft out and into her mouth.
She’d sucked him until she’d felt his pulse beneath her tongue, squeaking when he’d pulled out abruptly, lifting her to the table as if she were a doll.
She’d buried her face against his chest when he’d entered her the first time, his t-shirt swallowing the sound of her moan.
That was the first time she’d fucked Trapp Hemming, but it had only been the start.
After that, every time they studied together, either in the library or at his apartment, it always ended the same way — his fat cock inside her, fucking her hard against the unyielding library table; his tongue between her thighs, sucking her clit until she came undone; his cock down her throat, coming in her mouth.
She’d ridden the silicone stand-in for his cock that night in her shiny new townhouse in this life that still didn’t quite feel like hers, furious that he was here, that he was ruining everything, that her body still remembered the shape of him and how good he’d felt inside of her.
When the memory of riding him the same way and the pressure of the weighted silicone within her made her climax, she’d screamed like a feral animal, sinking down onto the silicone knot, the one memory she didn’t have, body spasming around it, and the world had gone black.
She’d woken some hours later, slightly panicked as to why she was sprawled out naked on her kitchen floor in the middle of the night .
. . until she’d felt the tug of the knot still inside her, realizing she’d passed out drunk and that it was, perhaps, the most humiliating moment of her life in the past decade.
The mothwoman across the street was correct in her assumption — he did have a big dick, but his ego was even bigger, and he’d broken her tender, inexperienced heart when they’d known each other the first time, snubbing her completely out of the blue.
All because of a stupid test. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Who’s the doctor now, Trapp?
Adriana walked to the front of the clinic the next day with her heart thumping, fists already balled up. She was steeling herself for a fight, because undoubtedly a fight was what he’d still be spoiling for . . . but a fight wasn’t what entered the vestibule just a few minutes later.
Trapp was standing beside the stretcher, his posture so straight he looked like a statue carved of navy twill.
He was wearing a uniform shirt that day instead of the snug station polo, but it was buttoned to the throat, not a hair out of place, his lips pressed in a flat line, his eyes so devoid of sparkle that they almost looked opaque.
He looked so good it was criminal. Avrille was wrong — he was the most handsome wolf in the world, let alone in this small town, and that only made Adriana angrier. Where does he get the fucking nerve, getting out of bed just looking like that? Such a prick.
The grey-skinned troll who’d been with him both times he’d previously come to the clinic hovered just behind Trapp, shuffling back and forth, as if he worried about stepping on an active landmine.
Something had come of her complaint after all, she thought, biting back a grin. Good. She felt smug for a whole three and a half seconds, before Trapp began to speak.
“Patient is male, ogre, 43 years old. Presenting with an isolated chemical keratoconjunctivitis to the left eye following an industrial catalyst splash. Exposure occurred 11:15, approximately twenty-two minutes ago. Patient has a history of chronic hypertension.” He spat out the ogre’s blood pressure and oxygen levels as if he meant to hit her with them.
“We’ve initiated continuous low-pressure irrigation in the field using a Milgrup lens and one liter of normal saline.
Last checked pH of the ocular sac was eight point five. ”
His voice was a monotone bark, delivering the status without so much as taking a breath.
It was a textbook, residency-level presentation, nothing she could find fault with.
This was the first time he had been the one to relay the patient’s status, she realized, the wide-eyed troll having done so at his prompting both times before.
“Shouldn’t the trainee be the one giving the history? ”
He didn’t respond, staring straight ahead, his eyes fixed on a point several inches above her head.
“Fine,” she ground out. “Eyla, we need a full toxicological profile on the specific chemical compound before we continue irrigation. Let’s find the specialized Milgrup lens pump and get him into bed one. Have Shileen call next door for the ophthalmology consult.”
“Your signature is required first, Doctor.”
She flinched at the stoniness of his voice, her cheeks heating when she realized he’d moved in the brief instant she’d turned back to address her nurse. Trapp now stood between her and the stretcher, blocking her from the patient.
“I’m not signing off on a chemical burn protocol until we’ve identified the specific safety data sheet for that compound. Move him into the room, Medic.”