Chapter 13

Michael

The first time I hear the buzzing, I don’t know what the fuck it is.

But I catch on quick. That’s what I do, after all.

Phone. My fucking phone is ringing. It’s not even light out yet.

I carefully ease my arm out from around Stella and check the screen.

Emergency. Now.

If I don’t call back in few minutes they’ll just keep calling. I sit on the edge of the bed and look at what I’m leaving behind.

I know beautiful women. I’ve had them every which way before. But right now, looking at Stella, I can feel a deep rising heat in my cock, and it’s not like it used to be.

With her, I get harder than I thought was possible. She’s so damn ballsy but somehow also sweet and demure at the same time.

She’s fire. She’s ice. She’s everything.

It’s a contradiction that’s getting me so fucking twisted I can hardly bring myself to leave her.

When she started off with talking back to me, all I wanted to do was fuck that attitude right out of her.

Now...I’ve seen her gasp as I come inside her. I’ve seen her writhe like a cat and beg me for more.

I wanted a virgin, it’s true. But I didn’t know how it would affect me, seeing a woman come into her desire.

I have to turn my eyes away or else I just won’t leave.

Someone at the hospital is dying. They wouldn’t be calling me at—fuck—three in the fucking morning otherwise.

I chose my life, and I can’t abandon it now.

I hurry to the bathroom and throw on some decent clothes that are still comfortable. I want to rush right out the door, but, instead, I stop and look at Stella again.

Her naked body under the sheet is mesmerizing. She breathes softly and turns to her side.

It’s a good thing she sleeps like a log. She won’t have to be woken up by my phone five times a night. If she stays, anyway.

I haven’t forgotten about the plane I’m supposed to put her on in a few weeks.

I realize I can’t just walk out. It comes as a surprise to me, but I don’t want her to be sad or wonder where I am.

I jog to the kitchen and write a quick note. Sorry, Stella. Work calls. Be home soon.

It fucking bothers me that I have to do this. Love and leave. It reminds me of the same thing it always does: I’m too much for the women I’ve known.

Sexual appetite too strong. Too intense and driven. Passion can be frightening.

Not to mention the massive cock.

It’s left more than a few ladies begging me to do it just a bit slower and to ‘Grab the lube while you’re at it.’

I think about the way Stella can take me, and it makes me smile. Good memories.

There are terrible ones, too. Those same women telling me all I want to do is fuck and argue.

I say, ‘So let’s fuck then’ and they say they can’t, they’ve had enough.

They need time.

Or for me to find a woman with the sexual appetite to match mine.

I had wanted to tease and flirt and pull them into something passionate and compelling, but they just wanted to talk about what happened on Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

So, I find a woman that can handle that and tell her what exactly? I’m only going to be around when the living and the dead will let me? That I could miss the birth of my child or our anniversary dinner because I’m at the hospital?

And now I have found her. I’ve found a woman who can stand up to me, bite back, and bare her teeth at me.

One who can fuck like a goddess every day and then some. One who has an opinion on everything and who has the prettiest fucking mouth with which to tell me every last one of those opinions.

How can I ask her to just demurely wait around for me?

And that’s the problem. I want to her to wait for me.

But I can’t ask her to do it.

Right now, the note will have to be enough.

In the car, I call the hospital back and find out it’s a pile up. Casualties are flooding the ER.

I curse softly as I take in the details. My driver knows this is not the time to worry about tickets. He flies through every intersection.

When we arrive at the hospital, I don’t even wait for the car to stop moving before I leap out.

“Dr. Kirkwood!” a nurse calls out near the door. She’s got a cap and gloves ready and waiting for me.

I tear into the department. Stretchers are everywhere, with moaning people on them. Most are covered in blood.

I head for the quietest gurneys—the most injured. I push through the people, finally coming on a stretcher at the very back of the room.

There’s a little girl on it. Two scratched-up and bloodstained people—the parents?—stand sobbing nearby.

“Why is no one treating this patient?” I bark at the nearest doctor.

The ER head looks up and shifts towards me a little but doesn’t leave his patient.

“She’s going to coma ward, Dr. Kirkwood,” he says in a patronizing tone.

I don’t even know this one’s name yet, and I don’t give a fuck.

“Why?” I ask, trying to hold in my rage as I pull back the child’s eyelids and take her base readings.

She’s beautiful. Maybe six years old. Very pale and splattered with blood.

Light blonde hair and fine features. Could be Stella’s little sister.

Or her daughter.

Our daughter.

I shake the idea from my head.

“Her brain activity is down, and she’s not improving. We had to put her on a monitor. Coma ward is the best place for her.”

I lift the sheet and expose her side, which is still covered in blood-soaked fabric from whatever she was wearing in the crash. It’s not a pretty sight, but I’ve seen worse.

Dr. Nobody didn’t even bother to check.

I wave over my best nurse and we get to fucking work.

I turn to the idiot doctor. “Are you aware she has a small wound, likely from a projectile, which is common in three-car pile-ups, especially to a small person sitting in a booster seat?”

I’m ice right now. Ice and fire. Fuck this idiot for missing this.

He has nothing to say. Not one word of defense. He just stares at me.

I throw the chart at a nurse and tell her to prep a surgery for my patient. She bolts out of my way as I approach Dr. Asshole. I’m already rolling up my sleeves, preparing for scrubs.

“She was dying on that cart you, asshole,” I hiss. He has sweat running down his hairline. “All because you couldn’t be fucked to do a proper examination. Thirty seconds ago, I didn’t give a fuck what your name was, but now I’m going to make it my business to find out—right after I save this little girl’s life.”

I don’t wait for a response as I stride out of the room.

I have a life to save.