Trapp #4
Across from the ambulance bay, at the edge of the back lot, sat his own truck, Adriana behind the wheel. She looked relieved when she saw him, opening the driver’s door as he crossed the bay, gravel crunching beneath his feet once he reached a broken patch of pavement.
“Did you steal my fucking truck?!”
She flushed. Her hair was down, pinned back from her face, her thick waves even curlier from being confined in a braid all day, and all he wanted to do was gather it up in his hands, testing its weight to compare to his memory.
Her cheeks flushed crimson, but that did nothing to diminish her defiant look.
“I didn’t know how you were going to get home! I just thought . . .”
He laughed incredulously. “I’m still on the clock! I’m not going home for another twenty-four hours! I have to wait for Oleg to pick me up and bring me back to the station, and then maybe I can sleep for an hour or two before the next call.”
“Oh. Well, I didn’t know that, did I?”
“You stole my truck! This is grand theft auto!”
“Oh, shut up. I did not. I rescued your bag from the rig; you’re welcome, by the way. And I just happened to find your keys inside. Stealing wasn’t required.”
Trapp was still laughing. “And now you rifled through my things! Unbelievable!” She tensed when he walked around the front of the truck, opening the door to the passenger seat, retrieving the water bottle he knew was in the cup holder, and draining it in a single long gulp.
“Well, I appreciate the thought, but you’re going to need to drive this back.
Make sure you park it in the same spot; I don’t want any of these rookies thinking they can take my spot.
You should go home for a few hours, try to get some sleep yourself. ”
“I did when we got back to the station. After we did the hospital run.” She looked smug, practically crowing in her seat.
“They needed an ambulance for the transport, and they let me ride with the patient since Oleg was by himself. Noncritical.” The last was said with a roll of her eyes.
“I told you I wouldn’t be a liability. I can’t believe they let you all take off in that weather. Did . . . did the little girl make it?”
Trapp turned, facing the empty parking lot, sucking in the crisp predawn air. “She made it through the transport. That’s all I know. And we didn’t crash getting her there, so the weather didn’t matter. And if we had? I can’t think of a better way to go.”
Trapp closed his eyes, breathing in again deeply and holding it.
It had been the worst transfer in which he’d ever participated.
The steady rain that had held the whole region in a wet bubble all week finally broke up in a line of storms that began to kick up just as they were transferring out the extracted patients.
The small orc he took off with was in bad shape, and he didn’t have time even to consider that he might roll right out of the helicopter as they struggled through the wind and around lightning.
Trapp jumped when Adriana was suddenly right before him, having slipped from the cab of the truck, coming around the front without his notice.
“I’m glad. That she made it through transport.”
He had seen two eclipses in his lifetime, the most recent being just a year or so earlier.
Cambric Creek had nearly been in the path of totality, the moon passing over the sun just over Main Street, leaving a brilliant golden ring as darkness swallowed the town.
Her eyes resembled that solar eclipse so entirely, Trapp couldn’t imagine ever looking at anything else as he stared down at her.
Her hand had landed on the zipper of his flight suit, drawing it down, down, low enough that it would have been in danger of dropping to the ground if the back was not pinned behind his body.
“What are you—”
His words cut off on a hiss when her palm landed on the hot shape of him, his cock immediately hardening again.
Her fingers moved slowly, dragging up and down his length as his shaft swelled with blood, thickening against the heat of her hand.
Her nails tracked down until they grazed his knot.
It wasn’t swollen yet, but it would be soon, especially if she kept this up.
“I hate you here,” she murmured, drawing down his waistband and easing him out. “Why did you have to be here, Trapp? This was supposed to be my new start. How the fuck am I supposed to do that if you’re here?”
He couldn’t answer. His eyes fluttered shut, mouth going slack, his head dropping back as she licked a hot stripe up his length, her tongue teasing at his tip before sucking him into the hot cavern of her mouth.
For what felt like a small, intensely pleasurable eternity, he was unable to speak at all.
His hands found their way into her thick curtain of hair, scraping lightly over her scalp as her head bobbed, sucking him in deeper than anyone ever had.
He gathered her hair up, at long last, testing its weight, finding it just as heavy in his hand as he remembered.
“Of all the fucking hospitals, of all the towns . . . why did you have to come here, Adi? This is my life. My home. And you’re ruining it already.”
A small moan broke from his throat when her hand raised to grip his sac, once he’d begun to lightly thrust against her.
It was a good thing he was leaning against his passenger seat, for there was no way he’d be able to stand on his own.
His legs were half-jellied by then, trembling, her knuckle pressing into his un-sunned perineum as she squeezed his balls.
Trapp tightened the hand that still held her hair when he came, groaning as she milked him through it, his cock spurting up every drop of the last twenty-four hours’ worth of frustration.
Perfect timing. He raised his head hazily, seeing the ambulance pulling onto the street in the near distance, just as she released him, spent and slack in the cool air.
Adriana grabbed hold of the handgrip inside the door as he tucked himself away, pulling herself up until she was face-to-face with him.
It was a bad idea to lean into her kiss, but he’d been on a bender of bad ideas for the last month, and one more couldn’t hurt, he thought, opening his mouth to meet hers roughly.
She spat the mouthful of semen against his tongue, filling his mouth, pulling back seconds before the ambulance pulled into the bay.
“This doesn’t change anything, Trapp.”
He staggered when she climbed over him, seating herself behind the wheel of his truck as he zipped the flightsuit back up to his waist, stumbling a bit as he spun on his heel, spitting the mouthful of cum out, furious that he’d already emptied his water bottle.
She was pulling away the instant he stepped back, allowing the vehicle’s forward momentum to slam the passenger door shut; was already at the corner by the time he’d reached the ambulance, pulling the side door open, startling Oleg inside.
“Ope! Where’d you even come from?!”
He watched the brake lights flare just before she turned off the street, still dazed.
She was going to be his ruin. Had already started doing so, and he had no script for this.
No practiced smile, no central casting note, no studio audience cheering him on.
Who was he, if not Trapp Hemming, friend to all, author of his own narrative?
He had no fucking idea.