Page 38 of Baby for Dr. Damaged

In a lot of cases, they are.

But not in this one.

In this one, he’s picked the wrong woman to harass.

I dig my hand into his shoulder even harder, blunt nails biting into the back of his white jacket. “I think you need to reevaluate what’s a talk, and what’s harassment—and who you’re going to be breaking policies around.”

At the mention of broken policies, he loses all steam. No one wants to get reported, no matter what their title or rank in the hospital. They all want to be on top of their game, having a spotless clean record that they can lord over other people’s heads.

So he backs down, and he mutters a half-hearted apology about having misread things on his way out of the room. Amanda watches him go.

“Are you alright?” I ask, walking over and putting my hand on her shoulder. It’s a much more gentle touch than the one I used on Dr. Kitt a moment ago. “I’m going to report him anyway.”

“Don’t,” says Amanda. “I don’t need that lording over me any more than he does. Besides.” A playful look crosses her face as she presses both hands against my chest. “I have you around to handle the problem for me. I mean, this wasn’t a one-time deal, right?”

“It wasn’t.” I rest an arm around her waist, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her temple. “I’m always going to do what I can to handle the problems for you. Make sure you’re safe.”

That she has everything that she could ever need. That our child has every chance at living a healthy, happy life.

My second kiss is to her lips. I go to pull away, but she stops me, slipping her hands into the back pockets of my scrubs and pulling me against her, our bodies pressing firmly together. Her dark blue eyes squint up at me with happiness, and I find myself chuckling and smiling back down at her.

“I was getting ready to go home,” I tell her.

“I can think of somewhere else we can go,” she suggests.

Another pull forward, using her palms pressed to my ass. Our bodies flush together, my steadily hardening erection pressing against her hip. She rocks up against me just once, like she feels the need to make her message perfectly clear, and then she pulls away.

One hand drops back to her side. The other one slides out of my back pocket, up over my back and shoulder, then down my arm. Her slender fingers finally wrap around my wrist, and she starts to lead me out of the room.

I go willingly, expecting to get pulled into the sleep room down the hall. Instead, she leads me closer to the elevator and then pulls open one of the storage closets doors. I let out a laugh straight from the chest, the sound rocking out of me, and get pulled inside. Amanda shoves the door shut behind us and I turn the tables on her, my hands dropping to her hips as I press her backwards, using the weight of her body to keep the storage closet door pressed shut. It’s a small, dark, almost cramped space. The air in here smells like cleaner, and it’s hard to make out the look on her face.

But when we kiss, I can tell that she’s smiling, and I’m smiling too.

“Is this what you had in mind?” I ask, shoving a hand up the side of her shirt and pressing it against her bare skin. “You wanted me in here with you? Couldn’t even wait until we got home?”

“I don’t want to wait,” says Amanda, breathless, happy. Her hands pull at the front of my pants, fingers fumbling to get them untied in the dark of the closet.

The air rapidly heats up between our bodies and our heavy breathing. We don’t bother getting undressed all the way. I slide a hand in the front of her pants, and then down the front of her silky panties. My fingers locate the bud of her clit and then slide even further down, pressing to the wet, slick entrance between her legs.

“Fuck, you’re always so wet for me,” I breathe against her skin.

Amanda gives up trying to get into my pants and just grips at the dark fabric of my scrubs instead, holding on tight while I slip a finger inside of her and crook it up, using my palm to grind against her clit at the same time.

She whines, and then bites her lower lip hard to try and muffle the sound.

“So wet and needy,” I breathe out, my mouth to her neck. “And I love it. Love the way you come apart for me.”

“Just for you,” Amanda says. She sounds strangled, as though it’s taking everything that she has to keep her voice at a soft volume. It thrills me to know that she’s struggling so much to keep herself under control. That I can pull her apart like this with just my fingers and the steady slide of my hand.

I pull them away, smearing her slick up over her clit, and then plunging two fingers back into her pussy in one smooth motion. It has her eyes scrunching shut and her teeth digging into her lower lip again, hard enough that I’m sure it’s going to leave a mark.

“Love that look on you,” I tell her, continuing to fuck her open with my fingers. A third one circles her entrance and then works inside of her as well. Her hips jerk forward in sharp, trembling motions. There’s a pretty blush on her face, spreading down the side of her neck, and it’s getting steadily darker by the moment, the same way that her breath is coming in harsher, sharper puffs.

Her breath hitches in time with the slow, subtle jerks of her hips, these harsh bucks forward, against my hand, like her body is desperate for the touch.

I could keep her here forever. In the dark, all that I can make out is the bits, the pieces. The outlines. It’s intoxicating in a totally new way; the same as knowing that at any moment, someone could try and turn that knob and come in here. That at any moment, they could try to pull open the door and hear what we’re doing.

We could get in trouble, fucking in a public spot like this, but I don’t care. I would do anything and everything if it makes her happy. And a task like this certainly isn’t a chore.

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