Page 9 of Creamed

My eyes feel like they want to roll back into my head as I stifle a moan when he does touch me.

But it quickly moves up to my wrist as he checks my pulse. Even though his eyes never leave mine, I’m guessing this is how they do it.

“Mandy…,” he says in a deep, serious tone, trying to hide his annoyance when the other doctor just won’t shut up. “… You’ll be fine. I’ve gone over your charts. A nasty sprain, but nothing too serious….” He breaks off, turning to the other doctor.

“Thank you, doctor, that’ll be all,” Foxx grunts, dismissing him with a single glance that roars, ‘I’m head of something way bigger than your career could ever be.’

The red-faced doctor is quick to leave, mumbling that I am his patient after all. Apart from being a senior doctor, at almost seven feet and built like he is, I don’t think too many people would be lining up to argue with Foxx.

Once we’re alone, he hooks a foot under a stool and pulls it toward him, bringing himself closer to the bed and sitting so close I’m literally swimming in his scent.

Not just his cologne, but all of him.

Even though I feel like crap, being this close to him is almost too much. Almost because I’m pretty sure already I could never get too much of this feeling.

“I went to the coffee shop,” he starts, overlooking the neck brace and my ankle. He sees past everything, and I suddenly feel extra self-conscious.

I feel my eyes widen as I watch his face set with a grimace, and he even growls quietly to himself.

“I went there to see you… To ask you…,” he stammers, struggling for the right words.

I’m trying not to move, but I’m letting him know I’m all ears.

“Ask me what?” I ask, needing to know. Now.

I mean, I really need to know. Forget about my ankle. My mouth’s open. My eyes are coaxing every word out of his lips that are close enough to kiss.

Almost.

Hey, he’s like less than a foot from my face. Closer than I thought I’d ever get.

“Mandy. This is gonna sound weird, and tell me if I’m overreaching, but –.”

He never gets to finish what he’s gotta say. Someone else is already sticking their head around the curtain. Foxx starts to snarl a reply until he sees who it is.

“Ummm. Dr. De Silva,” The older man drones tiredly at first, stabbing out Foxx’s name as if it’s an effort.

“Dr. Braddon,” Fox growls, turning down his beast mode, but only by a few degrees.

He stands up at the interruption. Foxx seems to be putting himself between the bed and the other doctor. It appears that Dr. Braddon is craning his neck to glance past Foxx to me.

“Hi, Mandy, I’m Dr. Braddon,” the man says. Suddenly cheerful, even giving a little wave with a short, fat hand.

“I’m head of the ER today,” he adds, giving Foxx a look that reminds me of the last doctor who he just told where to go.

But this guy must have equal clout, and Foxx isn’t so dismissive of him. Not verbally anyway.

“Mandy’s my star recruit from the coffee shop,” Foxx starts to explain. “An asset to the hospital, so I came when I heard,” he adds, lightening his tone for my benefit. I can tell.

He turns to look at me, too, when he says it. He makes sure I catch his meaning.

“My star recruit. My cream and sugar,” he rasps, giving me an extra intense look as he says it. The edges of his mouth twitch with a new type of look that makes my clit shiver as if he’d said it with my pussy in his mouth.

There’s a long silence before either Foxx or I can shift our locked eyes.

Holy cheese and crackers. I think Foxx might just be into short, thicker younger women after all.

But me?

Really?

“A word, Foxx,” snaps the older doctor, jerking his head to the other side of the open curtain.

As if it’ll make any difference in me hearing him or not.

“Foxx, listen. We do things a little different down here…,” the man says, lowering his voice to a near whisper as he slides the curtain across once Foxx joins him on the other side.

“Mandy’s fine. She’s being moved to the ward for a day or two of observation. I am waiting for her scan results to come down. This isn’t a cardiac case, Dr. De Silva,” he says with a note of finality.

There’s a long silence before the ER doctor gets called away. Some alarms are beeping and wailing somewhere else that he suddenly has to be.

But I’m relieved more than anything when it’s just Foxx and me again.

Just seeing him makes my pain stop.

I want to ask him what he was going to say, but his face is determined as his eyes scan me from head to toe lying on the bed. His glare makes me feel something inside that I need way more than anything he could say with words.


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