6. Luke
“Here are the files for the third week, Dr. Jennings.”
Olivia’s tone is as polite as ever, but she doesn’t look at me when she hands over the files and trudges away to continue her task. I frown at her back, wondering why she doesn’t even wait for me to say thank you. But then again, it’s another mark to be added to the already long list of wonderings.
Why did she go back to being aloof?
Why is she pretending the car kiss didn’t happen?
Why the hell isn’t anything resolved even if we cleared things up about the phone number issue?
“Hey, Luke. Busy?”
I turn to James, who’s standing by the office door. He’s a welcome distraction as I gesture him in and we chat about the interns I’ve overseen this week. He asks me about my business, too.
“It’s doing good. Better than I expected, honestly, which still always surprises me.”
“I don’t know why you’re even surprised. You were like this young genius doctor when you came in here years ago—a man with a drive to do so much more than surgeries. You were so hell-bent on changing the course of your field, and I daresay you’ve done brilliantly in that aspect.”
I won’t say I changed it entirely, but his words warm my heart either way.
“Thanks, James.”
He grins. “Only a few people get to do that, by the way. I might envy you now—just a bit—but I don’t envy the hardships you had to get here.”
“What is this now? Are you softening up on me, James, or is this your way of lightening the mood before you tell me you’re sick or something?”
He laughs. “No, not sick at all. Just thinking, I guess. Anyway, you’re a lucky man. You have it all going for you.”
In the career department? Sure. I’ve lucked out.
In the personal one? Maybe. If you don’t count the divorce.
And if you don’t count missing out on what might have been a good thing with Olivia if I didn’t make a mistake with one stupid digit.
At the latter thought, I sneak a peek in her direction while keeping my ears tuned to James’s chatter. I’m not stupid. He’s my friend, sure, but I know he does this praise talk to many of the doctors in our hospital to make them feel secure and boost their morale—in short, to make sure they don’t jump ship, especially the senior doctors.
I entertain James and don’t let on that I know this, but I’m relieved when he’s finally done with me and ends the chat with a hearty wave. I continue my last case study before closing that file. Normally, I head out right away, not wanting to linger at work unless there’s a surgery scheduled outside my shift.
But instead of my feet taking me out of the door, they take me to another door: the one leading to my office’s small file room, which I also use as a makeshift sleeping room with a mattress in the farthest corner. Olivia is just by the door, sliding folders in file cabinets and humming to herself.
She stops humming at my entrance, though, which irritates me.
“You can make sounds. Please ignore what I said to you that first week.”
Olivia nods, but she doesn’t hum again. When I linger and don’t say another word, she finally glances at me.
“Is there anything I can help you with, Dr. Jennings?”
There it is again—that awfully polite tone. At this point, I’m sounding like a broken record, but it just grates on my nerves and I don’t like the feeling anymore.
“You can call me Luke outside working hours, you know. It’s not that big of a deal.”
She opens her mouth to counter that we’re still at work, glances at the wall clock, and shuts her mouth. I watch her fingers trailing over the tabs of the folders she just arranged, which I’m sure are marked neatly already. I get distracted by that, mostly because I know it’s a listless movement as she probably scans her mind for something to say.
“Okay.”
I blink at the answer, expecting…I don’t know. A fight, maybe? Some resistance?
Not this soft tone that’s almost resigned. It worries me because this woman’s a fighter, and her response brings another thought to mind.
Does she truly want me to leave her alone?
A cold feeling washes over me that I might have been pushing things that aren’t there anymore. I don’t force myself on women. I won’t because that’s disrespectful and just not the type of person I am.
But have I been forcing her to feel things that aren’t there for her anymore?
It’s an abrupt wake-up call. I blink again, then take a deep breath to settle the quiver inside me at how far I might have gone without realizing it. It’s not right.
And I intend to make it right.
“I’m sorry.”
It’s obvious that my words aren’t what she’s expecting, either, as she visibly freezes on the spot. Then uncertainty enters her features, so I clarify.
“For pushing things with you when you’ve repeatedly set up boundaries and just want to prioritize your career. For demanding more than the brilliant work ethics that you’ve already been giving. It’s unfair, especially because you’re still new and working under me, and the power dynamics are unequal.”
Her eyes widen. Understanding sparks in them as she takes a deep breath, too.
“Luke…”
My jaw clenches, liking the sound. Too much. But I lock my reaction in. “And you don’t have to call me Luke if you don’t want to. Dr. Jennings is fine.”
Silence.
“Luke is fine.”
Shit.
Her granting me that derails my thought process, but I will myself to keep going. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want, too. No personal talk and no personal questions.”
“Okay.”
“In fact, I’ll never speak to you unless it’s related to work.”
Her mouth parts. “I…okay.”
“We just need to be cordial to each other, that’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. There will be no pressure for anything else.”
Silence, then, “Okay.”
Why is it that the more I solidify the boundaries she started putting up, the more she sounds unsure? Am I being delusional again?
I observe her closely, not wanting to make the same mistake earlier. Or yesterday. Or the days before that.
Her expression is unreadable. Other than the tinge of uncertainty, nothing in her voice indicates any protest, either. A defeated feeling courses through me that this might be the last time I can ever talk to her like this again, so I open my mouth one last time.
Then I stop when my gaze strays down and lands on something.
Olivia is gripping the cabinet so tightly that her hand is red. Worry jumps, and I take a step to check on her hand, but the small movement that’s supposed to be insignificant causes a change in her.
Her eyes flare. Desire radiates in the blink of an eye before it’s gone, but yes…I saw it. I’m sure I did.
Her breath hitches, a sound that betrays her and her awareness of how much I caught on—and just like that, my body”s response is positively maddening. The speech I’ve formulated is wiped out of my head as I’m confronted with something new, effectively throwing me off-kilter.
Because this new information?
It’s the truth. The eyes don’t lie.
“Is that what you want?”
It’s a simple question, meant to keep the reins in her hands. She startles, also not expecting that.
Then she glares—a far cry from the cordial, distant Olivia that it feels like an invisible caress to my skin. “We haven’t known each other long enough for you to know what I want.”
There’s a roaring inside me that I can’t stop. It’s a miracle that my voice and steps are so calm as I approach her, bit by slow bit. “I was asking you. But I’m also not blind. You felt what I felt in the car, didn’t you?”
She sucks in a breath at the word car. My hands fist at my sides as I try not to get carried away by visions of that hot, magical moment…of the grip that it has on me and how close I was to touching her. I focus on the present, looking her in the eye and daring her to deny it.
Olivia lifts her chin. “It was a spontaneous reaction. Derived from stress.”
“Work stress?”
“Among others.”
My gaze narrows. “Define ‘among others.’”
“Sleep stress. Moving to New York stress. No personal life whatsoever stress, so of course relieving the stress is the body’s natural response after so long…”
She stops and freezes again, the stricken realization forming that she said too much—and I catch on.
And it drives me insane.
“How long, Liv?”
“What?”
“How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”
There it is again, that flare of desire. I’m drunk on it and the other reactions she’s not holding back as much now, including the way she’s trying not to yield to my body heat so close to hers. My mouth goes dry at the way she licks her lower lip, a movement that’s supposed to be nervous but looks so erotic to me?—
“Seven years.”
All thoughts flee and my world stops. It fucking stops as I stare at her and realize the raw truth in her eyes, along with nervousness and a dare to make fun of her. That a part of her thinks I’ll make fun of her is mindboggling to me and I want to say that out loud.
But instinct takes over, the roaring in my head becoming deafening—and before I know it, the inches of space between us are gone as our lips meet.
I might have kissed her first. Or she might have kissed me first. I don’t care.
The important thing is that we’re kissing with a passion that’s not going to stop anytime soon because our shocks are soon taken over by a hunger that’s even more intense than when we were making out in the car. Her arching body confirms it as I dig my hands into her waist, but it’s her shaking hands clinging to my shoulders for support that drives it in.
We don’t think. I know I don’t. Thinking is trivial when she’s this delicious and pliant in my arms—when her mouth tastes like a fucking dream and I want more.
No, I need more.
Olivia does, too, as a moan flies out when I cup her breast over her shirt. Then I hiss when I slide that hand in and feel how stiff her nipple is against her bra, searching for something to alleviate the ache she’s experiencing. I keep hissing as I discard her scrubs and bra, then hiss some more as my mouth finally closes over that pink, puckered point.
“Luke.”
It’s just one word, but her trembling, needy voice is more than enough. I suck, lick, and do the things that I’ve fantasized about for so long, then do the same to her other nipple until she’s writhing for me. Then my mouth is back on her mouth because I’m missing her kisses already.
Olivia isn’t motionless in all this, either. Her hands move in a frenzy, pressing and holding until they reach my straining erection and cup it gently. Then one hand slides inside my trousers, and my eyes almost roll to the back of my head when she firmly squeezes my hardness.
“Fuck. Liv.”
She whimpers at the name I call her. She presses willingly against the cabinet as my hand slips in, too, to search for where she aches the most—and there I find her, already so wet for me that my finger slides in so smoothly.
I try to focus on my finger inside her, thrusting to find the angle that works on her the most before I slide a second finger in. I lose my mind when she accepts me so easily like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Fuck, Liv. You’re still so tight and wet.”
“Oh, my—Luke!”
My name comes in a hiss when I find a particularly good spot, her muscles clamping around my fingers. But she retaliates as her squeezing turns to stroking, and I swear my cock is weeping at the attention. I groan back, then capture her mouth once more to suck on her tongue.
It’s supposed to be an anchor, but it ends up egging us on and turning the heat up further. Before we know it, we’re rocking into each other’s hands, but it’s still not enough as we both know what we truly want.
I look into her eyes, wanting confirmation. I am left breathless when she gives a tiny nod, her expression rapt with pleasure and desperation. We are in sync as we scramble away from each other, her to slide her panties down and me to fully take my cock out of my pants. I grab the condom from a nearby cabinet and roll it over me.
Then we’re jumping each other again, her legs wrapping around my waist as I hitch her up and use the cabinet as a wall.
We stare at each other. All I can register is how lucky I am to see the way her vision clouds over as I slowly, carefully enter her, trying to be sensitive to how tight she is and how long it has been for her.
But Olivia has other ideas, her hips pushing back and wordlessly begging me to go faster. Just like that, I lose all semblance of control as I plunge in the rest of the way with more speed than finesse. Then I’m fully inside her and it’s everything I wanted.
“Please, Luke.”
The plea is soft and familiar, but it’s new at the same time. Realization kicks in that there’s no way we can take this slow, not with how we’re feeling at the moment. So we don’t.
I fuck her hard and fast, following a rhythm that our bodies dictate. I thrust in and out of her like a man on a mission until it no longer feels like a mission, either, and all I can feel is her: every hitch of breath, every moan, every sigh. Every slide of body rubbing mine, every clench of her fingers, and yes, every clamp of those amazing muscles around my cock, turning me on so badly.
Pleasure spreads. It electrifies me like no other and makes me double my efforts so she can experience it, too, and I’m entranced with the way she works her hips to give it to me in return. It goes on and on until one switch flicks and my body starts shaking.
Shit. I’m close.
Wanting her to get there first, my fingers return below. I kiss her hard. I tease her clit, then press against it as I breathe into her.
“Come for me, Liv…baby. Come for me.”
She comes like a rocket, brilliant in her explosion. Pleasure coats her face, and that’s the last straw that triggers me, too, as I explode while still trapped in her sweet, tight heat. The orgasm blinds me with pleasure: mind-blowing and surreal.
Silence reigns in the space, our breaths still mingling and our bodies pressed against each other in the weakened aftermath. It’s the type of silence I love, and I gently kiss the nape of her neck to express it.
Olivia sighs, then looks down. She walks away and returns with tissues, and we wordlessly clean ourselves up and re-dress. I wistfully glance at her disappearing stomach before I clear my throat.
“I’m sorry that was fast. It just…I got carried away.”
To my surprise, she shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m on the pill, by the way. In case that’s an issue.”
I nod, relieved. Maybe I’m also amused. “I’m clean. I swear it. I haven’t been with anyone in a while and I always get tested every few months.”
She nods, too, then eyes me curiously. The fact that she hasn’t left the room yet gives me hope, but I take it slowly.
“I swear I meant everything I said earlier, Liv. Before you said you haven’t had sex in so long.”
She nods again, understanding. Still not leaving. I open my mouth, wanting to talk—wanting to open up about so many things, including how I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.
But before I can speak, her phone pings. I watch as she opens it and reads the message, then turns white as a sheet.
“I have an emergency. I’m sorry. I have to go now.”
Then Olivia is out of the door before I can ask what’s wrong.