Page 19 of Stone Vows

As I snip the small umbilical cord, my heart breaks for the life taken too soon. It breaks for these parents who have no doubt already envisioned everything from preschool to their daughter’s wedding.

Dr. Anders hands me a towel and I clean up the tiny body before wrapping her up and giving her to her mother.

There’s not a dry eye in the room, including mine.

I take some deep breaths and try to push my emotions to the side as I get back to work, making sure all the placenta gets delivered. Then we leave them alone to grieve their child.

Dr. Anders tries to catch me before I walk off. I shake my head at her. I need a minute. I know she wants to make sure I’m okay. Maybe even talk about what happened. But that’s not what I need.

I take out my phone and tap out a text. Then I plow through the door of the on-call room and kick a chair into the bed. Then I curse myself for hurting my foot. But no amount of hurt can compare to what the Beaumonts are dealing with right now.

The door swings open and Gina comes through. I stride across the room and almost tackle her into the wall. I lock the door next to her as I devour her mouth, her neck, any exposed skin I can get my hands and mouth on.

“I heard,” she says into my hair. “I’m sor—”

“Less talking,” I interrupt. “More fucking.”

She grabs the hem of her scrub top and pulls it over her head. Unlike her usual sports-type bra, she has a lacy white bra on underneath. One of those push-up bras that has the flesh of her breasts spilling over the top. It makes me wonder if she wore it specifically for me or if this was the only clean one she had. I couldn’t care less what the hell her bra looks like, especially right now. The only interest I have in her bra is seeing it on the floor.

I reach around and undo the clasp, my lips meeting the soft flesh of her breasts before her bra even lands on the hard tile. I suck on each nipple until they are erect, hard as a rock. Just like my dick.

I pull my shirt over my head, followed quickly by the removal of my pants and boxers. Gina follows suit and rids herself of her bottoms. I push her against the wall. Hard.

“Ugh,” she breathes, before she wraps her long legs around my naked body. My dick strains against her stomach, pulsing between us, begging to be inside her.

I carry her over to the table and set her down on the edge. I spread her legs wide and pull my scrubs over so I can cushion my knees on the unforgiving floor. I work my tongue on her. In her. I work it until she begs me to fuck her. When I push inside her, I do it so hard, the table hits the wall behind her and the lamp falls to the floor.

“That’s it, baby. Let it go,” she says.

My eyes open and snap to hers.

Why the hell did she have to saybaby?

I try to pull out of her, but she grabs my ass, holding me inside. “Finish it, Kyle. I know you need to.”

She’s right. I do. The stress. The frustration. The sheer heartache. I need this. I need it so badly, it could just as easily be Red on this table and I’d still fuck her.

Gina reaches down and rubs herself. Watching her do it brings me back to where I need to be. She throws her head back and bites her lip as she comes quietly but forcefully. When her walls pulsate around me, I push deep one last time before I grip her hips and find my much-needed release.

I pull out of her and go sit on the bed, elbows on my knees, head slumped down in front of me. I should feel better. That’s why we do this, to feel better after a shitty case. Maybe this one was just so shitty, no amount of fucking can help.

I pick up my scrubs and put them back on.

“Better?” Gina asks, as she cleans up at the sink.

“Yeah, thanks,” I lie.

“Anytime,” she says. She gets her clothes off the floor and comes to sit next to me. “I mean it, Kyle. I’m here for you. Whenever you need me. Whereveryou need me—even if it’s outside the hospital.”

“Yeah, okay.” I push myself off the bed and head for the door. “I have a patient to check on. I’ll see you later, Gina.”

I run my hands through my hair and realize the smell of sex is still on them, so I head for the nearest bathroom to wash my hands. I look in the mirror and study my face.

“Stupid bastard,” I say to my reflection. “She’s handing herself to you on a goddamn platter and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

Gina is great. Smart. Beautiful. Fun. And she’s obviously ready to take this to the next level. Maybe she has been for a while. Maybe I’ve just been too stupid to see the signs. Maybe I need to give this a chance. We’re good together. She could be my Mallory, or my Charlie.

Do Iwanta Mallory or Charlie?

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