Creamed - Page 4

As hard as it was for me, I kept my distance, but I saw where she lived.

The apartment building, the neighborhood. The noise and the smell…Jesus, it turned my stomach. It cuts me to the quick to even think of her there for one more night.

It’s not where she belongs.

So, when I try to make things better for her the easiest way I can, by tipping her a little, and then I find I can’t, I’m simply more determined to make her mine.

I want to take her home and show her how a goddess like her should be treated and spoiled. And not just now and then.

I mean, every minute of every day. Forever.

Leaving my change but taking my coffee, I make a slow exit.

I am torn because I have to leave her again and feel double stupid because I’m giving her crazy eye contact instead of just asking for her number.

Or better yet, simply telling her, I need to see her in private.

Something I intend to do once she gets off for the day.

After that, I’ll try like hell to make sure the only time she gets off from now on is when she’s bouncing on the fat end of my stiff rod up her sweet little hole.

Glancing around after taking three different corridors, I ditch the unsipped coffee into the trash.

I begin to feel my still pulsing arousal starting to wane when I do.

Sorry Mandy, I really am. But it’s your cream I want. Not some powdered goop in a paper cup.

With my mind made up to actually talk to her outside of work, I feel a little better and make my way back up to the cardiology unit. Only to find the director of my department waiting by my office door.

Mark Chandler.

Never a good sign. He’s not a bad boss. He just needs some small doses of personality.

“Foxx, glad I caught you,” he smiles curtly, glancing at his watch to let me know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.

“You could’ve just paged me, Mark,” I reply, opening the door to my office that’s rarely locked.

“I know, I know,” he sighs, puffing out his cheeks and offering me the seat behind my desk in my office.

I frown but calm myself. Technically, he’s my boss, and I’m assuming this is important.

Maybe I’ve been reported for walking from the coffee shop into the corridors with a raging hard-on? CCTV picks up everything these days, and there’s no denying the effect my frequent visits to see Mandy have on me.

I make a mental note to wear my white jacket that would cover that from now on.

But it’s funny. Every time I see Mandy now, I make sure I’m wearing surgical scrubs for some reason.

“Foxx, I just spoke with Dr. Waring, and he tells me that you’ve handed your surgical load to him, opting to assist rather than lead the surgical team,” he says dryly.

It’s not unheard of, and I don’t need to run it past anyone if I choose to assist in place of heading the surgical team.

My little shrug and questioning brow is my only response until I see he needs more than that to justify his visit.

“Dr. Waring and everyone else is perfectly capable, Mark,” I remind him.

“Is everything okay, Foxx? I guess that’s what I’m really asking,” he says in a softer tone, leaning with both hands on my desk but still having to look up at me even though I’m sitting down.

“Everything’s fine, Mark. I’m just allowing Dr. Waring and some of the others to get a feel for leading surgery,” I explain, not even hiding my annoyance by now.

I always hate it when I have to justify myself to anyone, even the director of multiple departments.

“I won’t be around forever, Mark. And the surgical unit needs to be as ready as ever to pick up the slack if anything happens to me or when I retire,” I add, further annoyed by his mocking laugh.

“You aren’t planning on bailing on me, are ya, Foxx?” he asks, narrowing his eyes and standing erect to fold his arms.

The sound of my pager interrupts us.

“Duty calls,” I quip, and without another word to him, I’m out the door and on my way down to the ER.

“Keep me informed, Foxx. That’s all I ask,” Mark’s voice echoes faintly behind me as I catch an open elevator.

I’d be more annoyed any other day, to say the least. Following orders and being told what to do isn’t easy for a guy like me.

I’m big, and the world I live in is small.

But it’s brighter now that Mandy’s in it.

And all through the surgical consult down in the ER, I’m acutely aware of the time more than anything else.

Yes, some guy’s heart’s stopped working, and yes, we can save him.

But my own heart?

Well. It feels like it’s been unwrapped for the first time this past week.

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