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Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Meredith Medical Center




Part One

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Meredith City is a major health care hub, located in the upper Midwest. With a large trauma center, doctors covet the training positions and put up with difficult schedules in exchange for the opportunity. Not all of the opportunities are purely medical…

Laurel McKenna blew out a breath as she walked down the deserted third floor corridor of Meredith Medical Center. Two a.m. and finally quiet. Maybe she’d get a little sleep before six a.m. ror rounds.

She unlocked the door to call room C and flipped on the light. Typical hospital décor—all white. To the right, a twin bed made up with clean sheets hugged the wall. A sink counter took up space to the left, and a small bathroom was visible through a narrow doorway at the back. Gray carpet disguised the hard concrete floor.

Home-sweet-call room for the doctor stuck overnight at the hospital. She closed the door and thumbed the spring lock.

Laurel shrugged out of her white clinic jacket and hung it on the back of the door, then unclipped the two beepers from her scrub pants, dropping the hated devices on the phone table next to the bed. She turned on the bathroom light and pulled the door nearly closed, leaving a narrow bar of light showing, just enough to allow her to see the lamp and the phone.

God, it was hot in this little room. She squinted at the thermostat. The hospital had encased the thing in a plastic box, apparently to make sure the hospital staff could not avail themselves of air conditioning during the month of August.

She fanned herself with her hand. So tired. Even the narrow cot looked good tonight. Or more like morning.

But could she sleep in this heat?

If she took off her shoes—would she be able to get out of here fast enough if there was a Code Blue? The things had elastic straps…

Yeah, she could. A few seconds to get them on, and she’d sleep better without shoes. She kicked out of her Nikes and wiggled her bare toes on the worn Berber carpet.

Barefoot wasn’t cool enough.

She bit her lip. The scrubs would take longer, but with only a bra between her back and the sheets it might be cool enough to sleep…

The hell with it. Who could sleep in this sauna?

She stripped off her institutional green scrub shirt and threw it on the sink counter, then lay down on the bed. The cool of the sheets was a welcome relief on her hot skin, even if a somewhat scratchy one. She closed her lids and sighed.

Laurel dragged herself up from sleep. Sounded like a key in the door. The spring lock on the door popped out, and the handle levered down.

Oh, no. Oh, shit. She bolted upright in the bed, heart beating a tattoo in her chest. She was a woman alone in a call room in a remote part of the hospital. No one would hear her scream. She looked wildly around for a weapon. Nothing that wasn’t tied down, except for the two pagers.

The door cracked open, and she froze. Didn’t the self-defense experts say don’t fight, survive? Or did they say kick him in the balls and run?

The tall broad figure of a man stood silhouetted in the doorway.

“Laurel?”

Her breath whooshed out of her and she turned on the wall lamp next to the bed. She’d know that low husky voice anywhere. “Drew? What are you doing here?”

He stepped in and closed the door. “They assigned me this call room. What are you doing here?”

“This is my call room,” she said.

He scrubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw. In the dim light, his blond hair looked as though he’d just gotten out of bed. Dark eyes dropped from her face to her chest, and her nipples tightened under his gaze.

How many times had she fantasized about this man? And here he stood. The mysterious doctor who didn’t date. Drew Whitlock M.D., sex on two legs.

Drew licked his lower lip. “Maybe we could share.”

Share? What did that mean? She got the bed, he got the floor? “What…did you have in mind?”

He took a step toward her, into the light. The thin material of his scrub pants outlined an impressive erection. “You know, Laurel, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to… share a call room with you.”

“You have?” Her stomach flipped. Could she be so lucky?

“Yeah.” He took another step.

“That’s interesting, because I’ve always wanted to… share a call room with you, too.”

A sexy-as-sin smile spread across his face, and he thumbed the lock on the door handle and tossed his key on the sink counter. “Let’s share, then.”

“Yes, let’s.”

“Hot in here.”

Laurel drew her hand down the moist skin of her chest. “Yep. AC must be out.”

He kicked out of his shoes and stripped out of his scrub shirt, revealing a well-developed chest tapering to a stomach tight enough to stand on. His scrub pants hung low on his hips, that impressive bulge more prominent now.

He tucked his thumbs in the waist, sliding them down an inch. The swollen head of his cock pushed against the fabric. One more inch… she held her breath in anticipation. He paused. Laurel looked up, and he winked.

“Your turn, Doctor McKenna.”

She exhaled. He’d caught her staring. Okay, two can play at this. Laurel stood, mirroring his stance, hooking her thumbs in the waist of her pants.

The sexy-as-sin grin widened.

She worked the waist down until the tiny ribbon adorning her black lace thong peeked out. His gaze travelled from the ribbon to her breasts to her lips, and then his amber eyes met hers.

Drew loosened the drawstring of his scrubs and let the waist slide down until the arrow of hair bisecting his abs widened into a dark blond thatch. The head of his cock tented the fabric on the way to clearing the scrub pants, then… he stopped. What a tease.

She frowned. He laughed.

Okay, enough. She wanted him all to herself for a while before the damned pager went off. At this rate, it’d be morning before they got naked. Laurel turned her back to him before letting her green cotton pants drop to the floor, leaving her ass cheeks bare except for the narrow black strip of her thong. Drew groaned behind her.

Perfect.

Next, she unsnapped the front closure of her bra and tossed it aside. She cupped her breasts, leaving her nipples exposed above her hands. She pivoted.

His sound of pleasure was worth the effort. The bulge twitched. The scrubs dropped in a heap around his ankles. No underwear.

Laurel sucked in a breath and dropped her hands. He was magnificent. His shaft jutted out, long and thick and surrounded by dark blond hair. And to think, that erection was for her.

In two strides he closed the distance between them. Laurel braced for an all-out assault, but instead he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly as he backed her up against the wall, then bracketed her with a hand on either side of her shoulders. So warm, his smooth chest pressed against hers. The coarse hairs on his thighs tickled. A clean citrus smell rose from his skin and mixed with the heady scent of him.

He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth and kissed his way up to her ear, biting gently on the lobe as he sucked it between his lips and tickled it with his tongue. Pleasure arrowed to her core as goose bumps rose across her arms.

This was good, but she hadn’t gotten enough of his mouth. What would he taste like? She arched against him, inviting him forward. “Drew…”

“Mmmm?”

She worked her hands into his hair and directed his mouth to hers, nipping his lower lip and inviting his tongue inside. For a moment, his amber eyes caught hers, and then dropped to half-mast as he entered her mouth. Oh, Lord. He tasted like hot musky man. His tongue danced across her teeth and dove inside, twisting and tangling.

He leaned into her and his warm thigh spread her legs and snuggled against her core, connecting them from lips to hips. Another rush of moisture dampened her thong, her body ready to accommodate, enclose, enjoy. Was he planning to take her against the wall, or move to the cot?

The thick hot ridge of his cock rubbed against her belly, setting off an  answering heat between her thighs. She wanted to command him inside, and now, but there might be greater delights to come…

His glorious erection circled and pushed into her stomach. He cupped her breasts and teased her nipples with his thumbs. Pinching desire sent her heart into sprint mode, had her gasping. Drew smiled against her lips.

“You like that Laurel?” he murmured.

Good didn’t even begin to cover it. She nodded and panted into his mouth. “ ’S good.”

He nipped her lower lip and proceeded to take his talented mouth on a tour, kissing his way down her throat to her breasts. “God, you’re beautiful.”

The warm wet of his mouth replaced his hands as he laved one breast, then the other, sending waves of arousal down to her center. The man was good. He knew slow was better, and actually did it. He slid his hands along her sides, kissed his way down, pausing to dip his tongue in her navel and squeeze her ass cheeks.

My sweet Lord, he was heading south.

He went to his knees, dragging her thong down her legs and off. He ran his tongue up her inner thigh and grinned up at her. “Move your feet apart for me.”

Oh. My. God.

Laurel pressed her back against the wall. She had a sneaking suspicion she was about to need all the support she could get. A throbbing set up shop in her opening as she widened her stance and bared herself to him.

“Oh, yeah.” Drew nuzzled her then drew his tongue up her cleft, ending with a swirl around her clit.

A tremor started as he licked her. If he kept this up, she’d come in seconds. Laurel threaded her fingers in his golden hair. Thank God he wore it long enough she could hold on.

Drew’s hands stroked up her inner thighs and gently urged her legs apart. More licks stroked over her, each ending with a rotation at the top. Laurel’s back tightened and she fell over the edge. The call room blurred as the orgasm shook through her with the force of a defibrillatory shock.

As the room came into focus, she looked down. Drew still crouched in front of her, holding her hips steady. He grinned and stood, still grasping her hips.

Sexy as sin.

To her surprise, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her neck. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

“I’m glad you finally got your chance,” she said, and slid her arms around his back and pulled his hips into hers. The impressive erection was still very much in evidence. If he thought they’d finished, he had another thing coming.

Laurel licked his shoulder. Even his skin tasted sexy: salt and spice and musky man. She nipped him and soothed the area with her tongue.

Teeth tugged on her earlobe. “Careful. Don’t leave anything I’ll have to explain to the boss.”

“Of course not. My turn now.” She reached between them and stroked his cock, base to tip, base to tip, a drop of pre-come pearling on the head. Another stroke pulled a groan from him.

“Stop, or the party’ll be over way too soon.”

Placing her hands on his hips, Laurel guided him back toward the bed. He spun her around, and pushed her down to sit on the low mattress.

“Hey! It’s my turn!”

“Hold it there, hot stuff. Got to get protection.”

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Please tune in October 5th for the conclusion of this piece.

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Copyright © 2010 Whitley Gray

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

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