Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“What time do you get off?” he asks.
“Three, but I can’t today…”
He cocks a brow, his voice low when he says, “This is the first time you’ve turned down a shot at my ass.”
Yes, yes it is, and I’m still not sure why I’m doing it. Miles and I aren’t a thing. Plus, I don’t want to be a thing with anyone…right? “Yeah, fucked up, isn’t it? I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m sure I’ll regret it.”
Jameson grins. “I’m sure you will too.”
I groan. “Don’t rub it in.” I start walking backward. “Maybe another time.” Once Miles and I get this shit out of our systems, I’ll go back to being my happily slutty self.
I clock in, then check out my work pager for the day. I’m a patient transporter, so I move patients from one place in the hospital to another, taking them to their room from the ED, for tests and such. Sometimes I have quite a bit of downtime, and I like to chat with the patients, especially those who are here for a lot of tests or in the oncology unit. I figure it’s nice to have someone to talk to, someone to make them smile, and I like being that for people.
My phone buzzes, and since my work phone is in my hand, I know it’s my personal one. I find a quiet corner and pull it out, grinning when I see Miles’s name on the screen.
Miles: Mmm, that’s a nice sight to wake up to. I can’t wait to be all up in that ass again.
That makes two of us. The guy really knows how to work his dick.
Me: It’s feeling very empty.
Miles: Maybe I’ll have to plug it up for you next time I see you.
My dick stirs behind my scrubs. This is one hundred percent not what I should be focusing on while at work.
Me: Be good. You’ll get me hard at the hospital.
Miles: Are you hurt? Why are you at the hospital?
His worry softens something inside me even more for him. I haven’t even thought about the fact that I never told him I pick up a few shifts a month here. He’s…sweet. I feel like Miles worries about people more than he’d ever let on.
I suddenly remember his panic attack.
Me: Shit. I’m sorry. I’m fine. I have a part-time job here. I’m okay.
Bubbles pop up, stop, then start again, like he keeps deleting whatever he’s about to say. It’s killing me not to know. Imagining him overthinking in this way that most people would never associate with him.
Miles: What do you do there?
I’m guessing that’s not what he originally meant to say.
Me: Patient transporter. So if I ever stop responding or take a while, it’s because I got a page.
It’s not something I would tell anyone else, but I want to make sure Miles knows. I don’t want him getting all up in his head if I go quiet. I have a feeling he’s really hard on himself in there.
Miles: Already making excuses to avoid replying to me?
I laugh, and we text back and forth for a few minutes before I get a call to bring a patient from the ER to the floor. Things pick up after that, and I get quite a few transports. In between, though, we keep messaging. We don’t talk about anything important, just chat, like friends, like two guys trying to get to know each other, though I’m not sure if that’s me projecting or if he’s thinking the same thing.
With each conversation we share, he opens up a little more, allows me into those parts of him that were previously locked up. I enjoy exploring these different sides of him…and I also want to fuck him again, touch him, kiss him, be a good, good boy for him.
When I step into the breakroom for my half-hour lunch, the space is empty. I get a water and some chips from the machine before sitting on the couch and doing something I rarely do with anyone other than my brother. I call someone.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Miles answers.
“Calling you.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to hear your voice,” I flirt.
“And now you’ve heard it. Bye.”
“Don’t hang up,” I laugh. “You’re an asshole.”
“Are you just figuring that out?”
“No. Just surprised I like it.”
He’s quiet for a moment, like he doesn’t know how to respond. “What are you doing now?”
“Sitting in an empty breakroom. I have thirty minutes, so I hope you have time to entertain me.”
“Is there a bathroom close by?” he asks, making my skin heat.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you teased me this morning, and now I want more.”
That’s all it takes for blood to flood my groin, for my cock to plump, eager at his words. “Yes,” I reply.
“Go to the bathroom, Dax,” he orders, and I eagerly obey, locking the door behind me.