** As per Chapter 1, all names/characters/situations are fictional and based on my own fevered fantasies ;-) Feedback is very welcome, I'm pretty new to this!! Also, apologies to any US readers if my medical terms etc aren't accurate; I'm an emergency care nurse in real life but I'm in the UK, so I write about what I know! :-) **
*****
I was having serious déjà vu. 2am this time, and once again, I was standing in front of the tiny mirror in the apparently unused utility room, casting a jaded eye over my frizzy and dishevelled appearance. I'd managed to make it into work on time with about 30 seconds to spare, after my extended and naughty wander into fantasy land earlier - and I'd not seen hide nor hair of my dark-eyed, intense paramedic so far despite the steady influx of patients into the ER, a fair few borne on ambulance trolleys. I hated Saturday nights especially; it's not like I'd be doing anything constructive at home in the apartment, other than watching a Law & Order SVU marathon with a guilty glass of wine and an even guiltier pizza. However, somehow it seemed to reinforce my lonely existence: I really didn't have anything better to do with my weekends than patch up/resuscitate/dry out/sober up the great and the good of New York, in varying degrees.
No point in self-pity, I mentally reprimanded my sullen reflection: nobody likes a grumpy nurse. (Well, maybe they do, but possibly only in the kind of subterranean dungeons where the "nurse" doesn't hold a licence and thinks that NCLEX is a type of disinfectant spray for cleaning her bondage gear.)
Wearily, I hurried my way back to the organised chaos of Majors, and barrelled straight into Evan as I rounded the corner. Since the start of the shift I'd been avoiding him as best I could; after the conversation I'd overheard between him and the two paramedics as I left the hospital that morning, I felt self-conscious and hot-around-the-ears speaking to him. I seriously doubted that either Evan or the older paramedic had recognised me, but I knew for a fact that the clit-teasingly hot paramedic (who had unwittingly given me a astoundingly powerful orgasm not eight hours ago, albeit in my head), had definitely realised who I was as I scurried past, his eyes searching into mine in the clear morning light. I recalled with disbelief that the three men appeared to be discussing various aspects of my figure, my availability and the chances of me being shit-hot in the sack (oh, if only they knew the half of it...). Accordingly, it'd have felt weird and distinctly awkward to chat away with Evan as if I hadn't heard any of it.
I suppose it's my innate Britishness that made me feel so embarrassed; the logical part of my brain was goading me into just damn well asking what the paramedic's name was and whether He was available. However, thirty-odd years in my beloved Britain meant that I was as likely to do that as strip naked in the middle of Resus and pole dance using a IV stand, so instead I settled for skulking about, blushing whenever I saw Evan and wildly attempting to avoid all possibilities of conversation. So far I'd managed pretty well, merely exchanging brief pleasantries before report and successfully buddying up for most of the shift so far with Sue, a kindly, quiet nurse in her late 50's that reminded me of my auntie back home.
But now that I'd actually physically careened headlong into Evan, I couldn't avoid talking to him any longer. I had the uncomfortable sensation that he'd somewhat enjoyed the impact of my massive boobs crushing into his chest: "Aww, Louise! You don't need to throw yourself at me, you just need to say the word and I'm all yours, baby" he said, smiling broadly at me with an unmistakable glint in his eyes, as I fumbled to extricate my stethoscope from his silicone fob watch.
Flustered, I laughed uncomfortably and limp-wristedly flapped the bell of the steth in his direction, cooing "ooooh, stoppit, you!" coquettishly as I did so and silently loathing how ridiculous I sounded. I had learned so far in the States that it was generally a better bet to play along with the stereotype of uptight, stuffy, prudish British person but it made me cringe, mostly.
"Yeah, I'm all yours if you'll have me..... but I guess I've got competition now....", Evan continued, the glint in his eye still obvious. "You might not have noticed his jaw trailing on the floor this morning 'cause you were kinda busy with that code, but Karl couldn't keep his eyes off you the whole time. He doesn't normally hang around the ER any longer than he needs to, you know."
I attempted to look non-plussed, and evidently succeeded, as he went on: "Yeah, I knew you were oblivious, haha! Karl's the paramedic that gave report on that code. You know, the dark-haired guy. Professional. Very serious. Couldn't stop staring at your ass.... Can't say I blame him, mind you... hey!" I slapped his arm away as he playfully tried to grab a handful of my more-than-ample bum. "Your scrub pants don't leave much to the imagination, Lou.... I'm a hot-blooded guy, c'moooon.....!"
Rolling my eyes, I managed to retort that his imagination was the only place he would be able to get a piece of my ass, despite there being so much of it to go around, and laughing, I walked away. I marvelled internally at how he was able to get away with saying and doing things that would land most guys with a sexual harassment charge in seconds, and reflected it was possibly to do with how stupidly hot he was himself. And Lordy, did he know it – resolutely single and available, he didn't miss any opportunity to flirt with each and every nurse on the floor (available or otherwise), presumably on the assumption that if he cast his net wide enough he'd surely catch something eventually. I'd never be tempted to go there though, in all honesty, despite the fact he gave the strongest impression of knowing *exactly* how to make a girl happy in between the sheets. I had a sneaking suspicion that Evan was definitely a "bragging about it to every other guy in the department" type. Nuh-uh. Not for me.
Anyway, evidently I was utterly absorbed in thoughts of Him.....sorry, Karl. It felt odd knowing his name, somehow it was like being that little step closer to knowing him in a much more intimate way, and I felt my insides tingle with the memory of the look in his eyes and the way his voice had made my heart race. Distractedly, I leaned down to pick up a discarded SaniCloth packet, a tendril of my uncontrollable hair escaping from its prison and tickling my neck. Electricity shot over my skin and deep into my pussy; in my heightened state of arousal, I'd imagined it was his breath on my neck, taunting me and teasing me with what would come after that.
Get a bloody grip, woman, I chided myself as I firmly popped the errant curl back into place and tried to ignore the gradually growing sensation of silky wetness between my legs. Considering Evan was the biggest joker and flirt in the ER, I was wary of believing anything he told me, and it was inconceivable that Karl would have really been interested in me – he could have had any nurse he wanted falling at his feet, with his brooding looks and the sheer electricity of his presence. I shook my head, trying to clear the memory of his nearness that morning (and the rather marvellous orgasm he "gave" me later on) from my mind and attempting to focus on the circus of the ER around me.
Sue intervened at that point, quietly taking my arm and asking me to accompany her into a bay in Minors, where she suspected a woman with nasty facial bruising and a broken arm had been assaulted by her husband. I followed her behind the curtain and engaged the part of my brain reserved for situations like this - the unassuming, neutral facial expression and carefully concealed cold fury at the guilty party, who sat protectively at the woman's side, daring her to say anything. God, this was going to be difficult. Reality bites. Thoughts of Karl shifted to the back of my mind as I tried to navigate the choppy waters of yet another marriage punctuated by domestic violence.
