Dr. Dan Read online

  I grip her wrist and pull her hand from my mouth. “Five minutes. It’s like you don’t even know me. I’ll need at least seven minutes.”

  This makes her laugh and it’s so fucking pretty.

  “Thank you,” she says. “Now close the door. Lock it too. We don’t need any naughty nurses peeking in on your sexy doctor ass.”

  I close the door and lock it. “Any more demands, angel?”

  “Sit down in your chair. I want to fuck you on it.”

  My dick is hard and threatening to rip through my scrubs. I pull out my keys and toss them to her. “My wallet is in that cabinet. Grab us a condom.”

  I sit down in my chair and stalk her with my eyes as she sashays over to the cabinet. She looks over her shoulder at me, teasing me as she lifts her dress some. Then, she turns back to her task of finding my wallet. Once she has the condom, she prances over to me, standing between my spread thighs.

  “Open your mouth,” she instructs.

  I part my lips. She makes me hold the condom between my teeth. My brow arches as if to ask, “What’s next?”

  “First,” she purrs, like she’s giving me a lesson. “I’m going to need you to get me nice and wet, Dr. Dan.”

  She lifts her leg and rests her foot on the armrest of my chair. Her dress hides what’s beneath. I give her a wicked grin as I pull the condom from my mouth.

  “I’m going to need my mouth,” I say as I toss the condom on the desk. “You just stay there like a good girl. I’ll take care of you, honey.”

  I lift her dress and groan to discover she isn’t wearing panties. Letting the dress fall over my head, hiding me, I seek out her cunt that smells delicious with her arousal. She lets out a small moan when I tease along her slit with the tip of my finger, reveling in the wet evidence I find there. Back and forth. Back and forth. I rub at her, slowly and expertly, until she’s trembling. And I haven’t even touched her clit yet.

  Something’s wrong and she’s upset, but we’ll get to that. I just want to gift her a few minutes of escape. Of peace. Of us. For now, I want to make her forget. Flicking my tongue out, I tease at her tiny nub between her pussy lips. Her breath is sharp and she grips onto my hair, messing it up.

  “Oh, God,” she breathes.

  I smile and then suck on her clit. My finger slides easily inside her tight depths. Slowly, I fingerfuck the girl of my dreams as she dances on my tongue. If it were up to me, I’d keep her on the edge of pleasure forever, suspended in a time where everything in our world is paused and perfect. But her body, per usual, does as it wants. She explodes with a loud whimper, her body trembling with release.

  Pulling out from under her dress, I slip my finger from her and then flash her an innocent grin. “Having fun up there?”

  Her cheeks are pink and she seems dazed. “It’d be more fun down there.”

  “Put a condom on me, angel, and you can have all the fun you want.”

  She picks up the condom as I pull my scrubs down enough to free my cock. It juts proudly at her, waiting for attention. Her smirk is nearly my undoing as she rips open the foil packet. With dainty, but sure hands, she rolls the condom down my length. Brown eyes find mine and lock there as she climbs on my lap, straddling me. She reaches under her dress to find my cock. We both hiss out when she sinks down over my length, fully seating herself on me.

  Then she crumbles.

  My strong, beautiful girl breaks apart.

  I hold her to me as she cries against my neck. Every cell inside my body explodes with dread. Gently, I stroke her soft blond hair and offer caresses meant to soothe the girl I love.

  And I do love her.

  Wildly and without regret.

  When love feels limited, it rushes out fast and hard like a damn geyser. Powerful and unstoppable. But geysers eventually stop. And that’s what scares me.

  I want her to tell me what’s wrong, but she doesn’t. She kisses my neck, her tears soaking me, as she works her hips. Up and down. Up and down. This is what she wants—needs—and I’ll give it to her. Even if it kills me to have her like this.

  Pressing my lips to her hair, I whisper the words that are probably inappropriate and too soon, but words she needs to hear nonetheless. “I love you, angel.”

  “I love you too,” she breathes against my neck. Hot and unapologetic.

  Gripping her hair, I pull her mouth to mine. I kiss her deeply as though I have the power to climb inside her and touch her flickering soul. As though I have the ability to heal it with just a kiss. I’ll damn sure try.

  She works me good with her expert movements until I’m groaning out my release. Her body doesn’t slow until she’s sure I’m done. Then, she collapses against me, exhausted and spent.

  “Best four minutes of my life,” she jokes. I hear truth in them too.

  “At least seven minutes, angel. Get your facts straight.”

  “Little liar who lies,” she mutters, pulling away to look at me, the grin quickly falling from her pretty lips. “I start dialysis next week.”

  With my softening dick inside her and our heartfelt proclamations of love still lingering in the air, my girlfriend tells me we’ve just moved to the next level. And it has nothing to do with our relationship.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  It’s the only words I can say.

  I’ll say them as many times as I possibly can, because time feels limited and finite.

  Fuck time.

  Lauren

  Six months later…

  “Go fish,” I tell Taylor, a little blond-haired boy with big green eyes.

  He taps a button on his iPad and squeals. I glance down at my iPad, groaning to see he’s just “got his wish.”

  “Boooo,” I gripe. “You always win.”

  “’Cause I’m the best fisher, Lo-Lo,” he says, grinning.

  He’s in the next station over. We can look at each other, but aren’t close enough to touch. If we were, I’d give him a big hug. I love that kid. For being eleven and requiring dialysis already, he’s such a trooper. We’re always scheduled at the same times on the same days. He’s my little buddy.

  “Fine, you’re the best,” I concede. “Want to play another round or is your famous YouTuber more exciting than me?”

  “He just put out a new Fortnite video,” he explains, pulling his headphones up to his ears. “I can’t miss it.”

  I playfully stick out my tongue. I’m in dire need of studying anyway. College is hard, especially with so many hours a week spent at this hell hole, but I love it anyway. I quickly lose myself in my English assignment, wondering how this stuff will even help me when I become a therapist one day.

  Mom would be so proud. I know Dad is. And Daniel is just excited that I’ve made a plan, rather than wallowing in despair. It gives me something to focus on, so I don’t focus on the crappy parts of my life.

  Even when I’m having my worst day, I realize it could always be worse. Like Taylor, for instance. He’s parentless. Was living with his aunt when his mom died, but then his aunt decided to drown out her stress with a bottle of pills. Went to sleep and never woke up. He’s lost the people he loved to death and now lives in a foster home.

  When I go home each night, my dad is there. No more overnight or weekend trips. He was true to his word, staying in town for work. And even though Landon moved out with Callie, they’re home all the time visiting and eating up Dad’s food because they’re poor. I have a dad and brother who care about me. Taylor has no one.

  This is one of the reasons I want to be a therapist. I want to know how people handle the shit in their lives and be able to help them handle it better. People like Taylor need to talk out their feelings. Behind his big green eyes is heartbreak that he hides with silly smiles. He’s like me, and maybe that’s why I recognize it so easily.

  “It’s so quiet in here,” a deep voice booms, warming me to my core. “Did you bore Taylor to the point he’s ignoring you now?”

  Taylor snorts and waves to
Daniel.

  “No, brat,” I grumble. “A new YouTuber video.”

  “So that’s what we’re calling it,” he says to Taylor, winking in exaggeration. As though he really just needed an escape from me.

  “Don’t you have bedpans to clean out?” I bite back.

  Daniel, amused at my grumpiness, saunters into the room. He pulls out a sucker and hands it to Taylor before walking over to me. I’m given a root beer one since those are my favorites.

  “You can’t woo me with candy,” I lie. He totally can and does it all the time.

  “I better take it back then,” he teases.

  I snatch the sucker and stuff it into my purse. “Are you on break?”

  When I started dialysis, I had a choice between three places and the hospital. I chose the hospital so Daniel would be accessible. Sometimes, when we’re super bored, he’ll hang out with Taylor and me to help pass the time.

  “I’m off early. Thought maybe we could go to that bookshop you love. Maybe even visit Aiden’s restaurant for some dinner.” He sits in the chair beside me and wraps an arm around me. “I missed you.”

  I lean against him and relax. “Missed you too.”

  “Are you feeling up to it?”

  Truth is, I’m tired today. Groggy and weak. Crabby.

  But I feel like that just about every day, so I grin it and bear it like usual.

  “How about we save the bookshop for another day and just hit Aiden’s instead?”

  Daniel, always the perceptive one, assesses my features and gives me a nod. “Perfect.”

  My chest aches and I feel hollow. We’re as perfect as we can be without my deteriorating body putting a damper on things. I wish our lives were easier for us. When I feel eyes on me, I catch Taylor watching us.

  Longing.

  Sadness.

  Emptiness.

  I offer him a bright smile. It could always be worse. Taylor, of all people, knows this.

  Thankfully, he smiles back.

  “You’re off. Everything okay?” Daniel asks, walking out of his bathroom looking like a tasty daddy snack in his flannel pajama pants.

  “It is now,” I say, biting on my bottom lip and waggling my brows at him suggestively.

  He laughs. “You can’t fool me, pervert.”

  I pretend to be annoyed at his words, but the moment he curls up beside me and wraps a possessive arm around me, I forget how to be mad. In his arms, I’m happy. Loved. Secure.

  “You remember how I said I don’t want to have kids?” I say against his chest, running my fingertips along the grooves.

  “I do.”

  “Well, I haven’t proposed yet, sheesh,” I tease.

  He chuckles. “You’re extra silly when you’re stressed. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “I meant physically. But I still want to be a mom one day, you know?” I tilt my head up to look at him.

  “You know I’ll give you whatever makes you happy,” he says, his green eyes burning with intensity. “Anything.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  “I want your cock then.” It’s not a lie, it’s just not the actual thing I was thinking about. I want a family. Him. A future.

  “I’ll give you my cock first. Then I’ll give you the rest.”

  Sometimes it freaks me out how well he can read me.

  Mostly, I’m just extremely thankful.

  Oh God.

  Oh God.

  Tears burn like acid down my temples as I writhe on the bed. Sometimes, the pain is too intense. The stupid rupturing cysts and chronic kidney infections are killing me. Pun intended. I can’t even laugh at my own joke because a sob chases it away. I’m drenched in sweat, but I’m also cold. My eyes are squeezed shut so tight, I have no idea what time of day it is or anything.

  I need to call Daniel.

  Or Dad.

  Or Landon.

  I need someone.

  Sucking in a harsh breath, I pry a hand away from my aching abdomen and pat around the bed on a hunt for my phone. I squint at the bright screen, trying to make sense of it, but the blinding headache throbbing in my skull makes it difficult. Bile rises in my throat and I swallow it down. I don’t have the energy or strength to crawl out of this bed and into the bathroom.

  The phone slips from my grip when another wave of pain assaults me. All I can do is sob for my mommy. If she were here, she’d know just what to do. Moms are amazing like that. Everyone should have a mom like I had. This makes me cry harder. It also makes me think about other people who don’t have moms. People like Taylor. Life is a cruel sonofabitch. Yeah, life’s totally a man, because it’s the one doing all the fucking around here.

  “Lauren,” Dad’s voice booms out, echoing inside my head.

  “Daddy,” I whimper. “It hurts.”

  “Shhh, baby girl,” he coos, his palm going to my forehead. “I’m going to get you to the hospital. Want me to call Daniel too or is he there?”

  I don’t know.

  I don’t know anything.

  A wave of nausea hits and I puke all over my poor father.

  Sorry, Daddy.

  “Hi, Lauren,” a man greets. “I’m Wendell. How are you feeling?”

  I blink at an unfamiliar man.

  “Where am I?” I croak.

  “In the ambulance,” Dad says from the other side.

  “Why?”

  “Figured you’d like to ride in style,” Wendell offers.

  I fade in and out of consciousness. Everything is a blur of activity when I make it to the hospital. Dad goes missing. I cry. Just when I think I’ve been abandoned, my favorite doctor strides in, worry contorting his handsome face.

  He’s shouting orders and it feels too loud. The lights and sounds and everything. I just want it all to go away.

  And then it does.

  Poof.

  Daniel

  I’m damn near climbing the walls, desperate to go into the operating room and check on things, but I know Dr. Cohen needs focus. Rushing into the OR freaking the fuck out is not going to help.

  “Drink this,” Morris says, thrusting a water bottle at me.

  My hand shakes as I snag it and chug down half the contents. “How are Teddy and Landon?”

  “Good as can be expected.”

  I scrub my palm down my face. “Jenna here?”

  “She is. Enzo and Cora stayed home.”

  “You think everything’s okay?” I ask, chancing a look at my friend.

  His lips purse together, making my heart sink. “Aneurysms are no joke,” he says sadly. “But you saw the scans. If they can get on top of it, she’ll be fine.”

  I glance at the clock. She’s been in there for a while. Had the aneurysm burst, she would’ve died on the table.

  “Breathe, man,” Morris says, gripping my shoulder.

  A sharp breath escapes me. “Coil embolization. It’s a successful treatment plan. It will work.”

  He nods as though he believes me.

  Fuck, I barely believe myself.

  “Sit the hell down in your office and take a breather. I’ll bring some of those vanilla cookies you love,” he says, grabbing my other shoulder to walk me away from the OR.

  I skid to a halt. “I can’t. What if…what if…”

  What if she dies?

  What if they need me?

  “Fine, then at least sit. You’re wearing a hole in this gorgeous linoleum. The hospital has had it since the ’60s. That shit is irreplaceable.”

  I let out a small laugh, thankful for his ability to lighten any dark situation.

  A door opens and Nurse Eleanor exits the OR.

  “Dr. Venable,” she calls out.

  I stalk over to her, my heart dropping with every step. “Yes.” My voice is a husky croak. Morris is right at my side for moral support.

  “Dr. Cohen asked me to step out and inform you that the coil embolization was successful. She’ll need to fre
quently have it monitored, but she should be okay.”

  Her words sink in my bones, burrowing there.

  She should be okay.

  It was successful.

  My legs shake with the urge to fall to my knees and sob in fucking relief. But I can’t do that. I have a family to talk to.

  Mine.

  Two weeks later…

  “No. No. No.” Lauren flips through the Netflix shows past all the ones we’ve seen. She’s restless and agitated.

  “What about that one?” I ask, pointing absently.

  As she reads the description, I crawl into my bed and stare at her. Even weak and tired, she’s beautiful. The aneurism was just one of her problems. Her cysts on her right kidney have grown in size and two had ruptured. So on top of everything, she’s been in severe pain. And, because of the excessive bleeding and eventual clot formation, she developed a urinary tract infection. My girl gets delivered blow after blow.

  “Maybe I’ll just go to bed,” she says grumpily, tossing the remote.

  Her anger and irritation barely hides the tears brimming.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  She hisses, the tears leaking out. “What’s there to talk about? My body hates me.”

  I reach up and brush away a tear with my thumb before kissing her forehead. “We could talk about that terrible robe my mother brought over for you to wear.”

  Despite her trying to remain in a bad mood, her lips twitch. “It’s a lovely shade of baby shit green. Like your eyes.” She bats her lashes at me.

  I snort. “Maybe I should tell Mom that since she has the same eye color as me.”

  “Your mother will never believe it. She loves me,” she brags.

  Lauren may be joking, but it’s true. They finally met after I brought Lauren to my house once she was discharged from the hospital. Mom stayed for a few days cooking and cleaning. It was strained at first because my mother wasn’t keen on the age gap, but all it took was being around us for a full day to understand how much love we have for each other. Once she realized I was happy and that Lauren was it for me, she relaxed and let my girl in her heart too.