Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
…No woman ever, anywhere, in my entire thirty years on this earth, has made me feel like this. Not a single woman has knocked my legs out from under me like this and gotten me so fucking deep and hooked into her in seconds like Aria has.
And so that’s my problem. It’s not the mob, it’s not my wounds, and it’s not that I’m chained to this bed. It’s that there’s no goddamn way I’m leaving here without her. It’s that I’ve laid eyes on the one thing I want more than anything else in this world.
Doctor Aria Linetti is going to be mine.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
Chapter Three
Aria
My hands shake as I shove the coffee cup under the Keurig machine and jam the button on. Great, a trauma surgeon with shaky hands and shot nerves. Wonderful.
I swallow the hot coffee quickly when it’s done—too quickly, really, and I swear as the liquid burns my tongue a little. I whirl, pacing the lounge, my pulse racing as I try and replay what just happened.
Yeah, so, that was not good. None of that was good. In fact, everything that just happened is arguable grounds for him to file a complaint to the hospital and get me on some serious probation. Probably, at least. I’ve never looked too hard at the regulations on doctor-patient sexual harassment because, you know, I’ve never been fucking crazy enough to kiss one of my patients.
Or ogle his cock. Or lust after him. Or stare at him with my heart racing imagining him pinning me across that hospital bed and having his freaking way with me.
Fucking hell.
I squeeze my eyes shut, sucking in breaths of air. This is ridiculous. I need to shake this absurdity out of my head, transfer off of this rotation, get Jack a new freaking doctor, and hope to everything holy that he forgets about all of this with his next dose of pain meds.
I frown, chewing on my lip. He did kiss me, right? I’m not rewriting history to make myself feel better, am I? It’s not that I let my roaring desires for this ridiculously hot man blend with my complete lack of sex life and mix into some sort of super-crazy psychosis, right? But no. I close my eyes and think back, and he definitely kissed me. We’ll forget the part where I kissed him back, eagerly.
I storm over to my locker and grab some clean clothes before slipping behind the curtain across the designated changing corner of the break room. I slip off my scrubs and pull on my skirt and blouse for my rounds, pulling my coat back on before stepping back out.
No, he kissed me, so that lets me off the hook, right? We can chalk that up to his medications or being loopy after surgery. I’m sure the next time I walk in there, he’ll either be asleep, or he’ll be awkwardly apologizing, to which I can put on my doctor smile again and assure him that it’s perfectly natural to be out of sorts after anesthesia.
Yeah, it’s perfectly normal for your monster cock to swell into a huge erection, and for you to growl dirty things into your attending doctor’s ear, and then to kiss her, after life-threatening surgery.
Yeah, right.
I slug back the rest of my coffee, steeling myself to head back out to the rest of my rounds, when the door to the lounge swings open, and Courtney, the on-duty internist, waltzes in, her blonde hair piled high in her customary bun.
“Have you seen the guy in room twelve?”
I groan. Yes. Yes, I have. In fact, I was just kissing him about ten minutes ago.
“Uh, yeah, I was the surgeon.”
She whistles and fans herself. “I mean, hello, right?”
I blush. “Courtney!”
“What!” she laughs. “You heard about the debate team down in the ER intake lobby who all ate the same e-coli infected pizza from that sketchy place by the university, right?” She blanches. “Girl, I’ve been dealing with shit—literal shit—down there all night.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Jesus, no. That’s pretty bad.”
“Yeah! Yeah, it is! So, let me eye-fuck your patient a little without judgement, okay? I deserve this.”
I laugh. “Alright, alright. No judgment.”
You know, glass houses and all. I decide it’s probably a good idea to not mention that the gorgeous patient handcuffed to the bed also has a porn star cock.
“Was he handcuffed, by the way?”
“Hmmm?” I blink, blushing as I pull myself out of my reverie.
“The hottie in room twelve. He’s handcuffed to the bed.”
“Oh, yeah,” I murmur distractedly. “Yeah, he’s apparently a person of interest. The cops are going to talk to him about some stuff when he’s more awake.”
She arches her brows. “Jesus.”
“Yeah.”
“Alright, well, I need to get back—”
“Hey, do you want him?” I blurt out.
She frowns. “Pardon?”
“I mean on your rounds. I’m beat, and I’ve got a ton of other people to check in on right now. I dunno, just, if you want to scoop him up into your own rotations, he’s all yours.”