Page 12 of Keeping Her Under
She smells clean, freshly washed, and my tongue salivates with the need to taste her again. To eat her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Stepping back before my cock can thicken –it would’ve already had I not jerked myself off in a bathroom right before coming to see her– I leave her room.
For now.
But today is Friday, and Ryan’s first night shift is on Tuesday.
Which means, I have four days before I’ll be back here.
Four more days before I can bury my tongue and cock into her sweet, sweet pussy.
But until then, all I’ll be able to comfort myself with is a live feed of her sponge baths, wrapping her dirty laundry around my cock at home, and visiting her house to come all over her sheets.
My body tense, I use that to my advantage as I head for the door, planning to stop by the nurses station in order to solidify my innocent reason for being here.
But then my feet grind to a halt and I turn.
My eyes find the chair.
The one holding the plastic bag of Summer’s belongings. A sick feeling in my stomach, I walk towards it. The hairs on my neck scream at me to leave it alone, that if I’m caught riffling through her personal items, I could be severely reprimanded, but the blood pounding in my skull is drowning out those screams.
Because I have a horrible fucking suspicion.
About why her boyfriend came to visit her.
Why he left so quickly.
Grabbing the bag, I ruffle through her purse and quickly check her wallet.
My hands clench hard enough to leave imprints in the leather.
The fucker’s taken every last bill she had.
There couldn’t have been more than fifteen or twenty bucks in there, and he came in while she was lying in a fucking coma and robbed her.
My arms shaking, I place the wallet back into the purse and zip up the bag.
I take a moment to regain myself, to cool myself down despite the fury roaring through my system, and then I walk out of here.
I will treasure her like he never will. What started off as just a desire to pleasure myself has morphed into a need to protect her from her shitty boyfriend.
Stopping at the nurses station, I stand by the counter and say, “I heard Ms. Wintry’s boyfriend stopped by yesterday.” My words are tight with hatred for a man I’ve never met.
Nurse Jones’ face sours as she looks up from her paperwork. She’s filling in a shift change report for the oncoming staff, but at the moment, I have her full attention. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t there to greet him,” she says. We’re supposed to keep an air of professionalism at all times, but Nurse Jones is a dragon of a woman who’s seen too much shit in her twenty-two years on the job, and she’s good friends with one of the board members. She knows how to toe the line while still making sure the asshole ‘family members’ know where to shove it.
“I don’t know why he bothered coming in at all,” she says, her voice as icy as her sharp blue eyes, “considering he left before she could take a breath.”
My jaw tightens as her empty wallet flashes in my mind. “Who knows?” I say. “But she should wake up to something better than him, so I got her a get-well bear.”
A brief flash of surprise crosses her face. Then it settles into something a bit more warm, a bit more “understanding”. Knowing she’s convinced herself that I’m here out of guilt for my hand in Summer’s coma, I continue on. No one will question why I visited her today now, not when Nurse Jones will have my back.
After all, she’s a dragon – a fierce protector of anyone who she thinks needs it.
Like an arrogant anesthesiologist who’s finally being humbled by his mistake.
A smile curling my lips, I pull out my phone and connect to the teddy’s feed.
Eight
