| This chapter contains explicit content for an 18+ audience only. |
The crisp fresh air from the outside world begins to hit me as I approach the hospital doors, as glad as I am to be back—I cannot wait to get home. I let down my hair and shake it out, fumbling to find the sleeve of my coat.
"Oh, to be you." Matt's voice chimes from in front, only beginning his shift as I leave.
"I just finished cleaning throw up out of my hair twenty minutes ago, be careful what you wish for." I chuckle.
He laughs. "Hear the good news?"
"No?" I furrow my brow. "Why the hell am I so behind recently?"
He shuffles over, leaning to whisper. "Angel-"
"Sorry, 'good news' and 'Angel' should never be that close together in a sentence." I interrupt.
"Angel... and Jake and over for good. No more hooking up and letting her hurt him anymore." he announces with a grin.
I sigh in relief. "That's amazing. How do you know it's going to stay that way?"
"He filed for a restraining order."
I could cry with joy. He finally did it. "That's the best news I've heard all week. I'll have to call him later. Enjoy your shift."
I take one step out of the door before hearing my name from behind. It's Julie. I screw my eyes shut and spin around to face her. "If you're going to ask me to stay and take someone else's shift... I won't say no, but I will urge you to reconsider with a large please on the end."
She almost smiles. Almost.
"No, you can go. Do you have dinner plans for tomorrow?"
I raise my brow. "A sandwich and a nap in an on call room probably, I'm working."
"And if you weren't, would you have dinner plans?" she adds.
"Uhm... no?" I respond confusedly.
"Good. I would like you to meet me at the restaurant down the street at 8. You can bring your partner." she nods.
"Matt?"
She rolls her eyes. "No, Woods. Your romantic partner, not your partner in crime."
"Oh! Alright..," I furrow my brow. "Can I ask why?"
"You can ask." she shrugs.
I stare blankly. "Right... see you then."
I take out my phone and call Mason, propping myself up against the wall outside. "So, about that dinner we had planned with Enzo..," I scrunch up my nose. "Can we reschedule?"
"He called to cancel an hour ago, anyway. Why?"
"He did? It was his idea. Isn't that why he stayed in town an extra week?"
"He stayed to hover over me. He probably met a better, half-dressed blonde idea at the bar." he replies, making me laugh.
"Probably. Well... now we have a dinner with my boss." I say cautiously, picturing the amazingly uncomfortable expression on his face.
"We?" he scoffs.
"Yep. Her idea."
"Can I plea my way out of it?"
"—No."
"Great." he sighs.
"Dinner is at 8. I'll change at work so meet me there and I'll send you the address."
—————
7:50pm—
I slip out of my scrubs and into a plain black dress that rests just above my knees. Comfortable, not too much skin, and hopefully fit for whatever this dinner is. I adjust my necklace in the mirror and feel my nerves rising, what the hell is this for? She wouldn't take me to dinner to fire me, right? And she wouldn't invite Mason. Why the hell did she invite Mason?
I check my watch. Shit. Mason.
I throw on my shoes and remember Mason dropped me off at work this morning so that we wouldn't have both cars. Shit. I pull my coat on as I hurry to the restaurant. It's only five minutes away, but I'm already late and agreed to meet Mason at 7:45. If he's there alone with Julie I will never live this down. Ever.
As my pathetically short heels clip against the ground I see Mason standing outside. Alone. Thank god.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I lost track of time." I pant, slowing down as I reach the door.
"Saving lives," he chuckles, planting a kiss on my lips.
"Yeah," I cough, thinking back to the twenty five minutes it took for me to decide on what dress I packed suits best.
My phone buzzes, its Julie.
*Got caught up. Be soon. Meet inside.*
"Why does she text like she's being held hostage?" Mason laughs.
"Shut up." I chuckle.
We walk inside and get seated at a booth, the menu being placed in front of us. Its dimly lit and very fancy—not exactly business like. I look to Mason who looks just as uncomfortable as me. But good. Really good. I didn't look at him properly in my rush, but his shirt is rolled up at the sleeves and fits perfectly, it's a light grey colour—brighter than usual.
"Are you nervous?" I ask him.
"Why would I be nervous? You're the one she's firing." he shrugs.
"Mason!" I whine, pushing his chest.
"I'm kidding," he laughs. "You're one of the best, she isn't going to fire you."
"So, are you nervous?" I repeat.
"I'm not good with these dinners, Amara. Remember the dinner to meet your mom? Remember that? Because I sure do." he folds his arms.
I laugh. "Just don't call her old and you'll be fine."
Just as he opens his mouth to respond, Julie takes her seat across from us. She picks up the menu, her eyes not meeting either of us. "Should we order wine? Are we feeling appetisers?"
"Uhm," I look to Mason and back. "I'm not that hungry, I think I'll just stick to a main."
"And wine?"
"No thanks." I smile awkwardly.
She waves the waiter over and orders a bottle of red. "You'll have some, right? I can't have a bottle to myself." she shrugs, looking to Mason.
"Sure. I prefer white though," he shrugs, then looks to me. "What?"
I pinch my temple. "So... what is this dinner for exactly?"
"We need to talk, about that position you've been avoiding taking."
"Oh-"
"I'm repeating myself here, Woods. I hate repeating myself. You're amazing in trauma. You're not far enough into your time here to say you don't want to change, you're dedicated, it's a better schedule—so what's holding you back?" she asks, closing the menu and clasping her hands. She's speaking tiredly, like she's already fed up.
"I just don't know if it's for me." I say.
"Yes you do," she replies, and I raise my brow. "I'm sorry, but that's bullshit. Yes you do. I watch you when you show those interns anything trauma related and it's clear it's your specialty."
I sigh slightly, and her face lights up in understanding. "Ah, that's it. You don't want to be taught, you want to teach," she nods. "It may feel like you're moving down the ladder, Woods. But you're not. This is a step up for you and the training is hands on anyway, it'll be good for the puppies to see what they can work to."
Mason furrows his brow. "Puppies?"
"Interns." Julie and I say in unison.
"I'm going to give you more time to think about it, but not much more. A week. No more. Take it and think of it as a transition period, read up on everything you have to—because I'm confident at the end of this seven days the answer i'll receive will begin with y and end in es." she nods.
The waiter brings over the bottle of wine and a glass for each of us. "No thanks." I smile politely.
"Can I ask why you said I could bring Mason?"
"I thought you'd be more comfortable. I seem to always corner you at work." she shrugs.
She opens the bottle and fills her glass to the brim, before motioning to Mason and filling his too. She picks up the food menu and stares at it intently, Mason and I sitting in silence since it's the only menu at the table.
I place my hand on his thigh lightly, leaning my shoulder against him. It was an innocent gesture, but Mason seems to have other ideas. He mimics my motion and places his hand under my dress on my bare thigh, moving it up slowly.
Mason's POV:
"S-So, what are you going to order?" she asks Julie, the little stutter in her words making me grin.
She responds with a quiet grunt more than words, her eyes haven't even moved from the first page yet.
I continue to move my hand upwards, stopping as my finger brushes gently across her underwear. She looks amazing in that dress. She'd look amazing in anything. She looks to me with wide eyes, and I return the gaze with a calm smile. I know I'm driving her crazy, but I know she doesn't want me to stop.
I look around, making sure we're out of the eye line of everyone nearby. She glances at me, before turning her attention back to her boss who seems to barely remember we're here.
I push her underwear to the side, entering a finger slowly and making a small gasp escape her lips. She slaps my hand away and pushes her thighs together, biting her lip. "Sorry, I have to take this—emergency." She stutters, picking up her blank and silent phone.
She climbs across me to exit the booth, her hand grazing the bulge in my pants I'm desperately trying to control. She glances back at me as she walks away. Oh, Amara.
"I better go check she's okay." I excuse myself.
I follow her to a room which we definitely should not be in, a cloakroom up the back of this place. I close the door behind me and lock it, pushing her against the wall. "What the hell are you doing? That's my boss." she says with a pout. She's trying to seem angry, but she's biting her lip, and her hand has already found it's way to my belt.
"You started it." I grin.
"I put my hand on your thigh." she rolls her eyes.
"And I always put it to the left."
She holds back a laugh, before pulling me closer. "So... what are you going to do?"
"Punish you." I smirk.
"I think I like this punishment, is it really a punishment?" she replies, looking at me with those eyes that make me weak.
"Oh, yes." I nod.
"How?"
"Because..," I slide my hand up her thigh, pressing myself against her. "Outside of that very thin door is a bunch of tables full of people enjoying their meal."
Her breath hitches as I trace small circles on her skin, my knuckles brushing against her underwear. "And directly through there, rows of people who can hear every sound you make. So you can't make a sound," I whisper, entering two fingers into her. She's so wet already. She gasps loudly, her back arching. "And I'm going to fuck you until you don't remember the word quiet."
She looks at me with begging eyes, her breath erratic as I pump my fingers inside of her. "We- We have to be quick or Julie will come looking."
"Alright."
Her hands fumble as she undoes my belt buckle, my pants falling at my ankles. I lift up her dress, bunched up at her hips as she slides off her underwear. God, she's so fucking hot.
I take down my boxers and look at her, the way she bites her lip as she waits for me—the way her chest rises and falls as she anticipates what's about to happen. I bring her leg to my hip, slowly pushing myself inside of her as she's pressed up against the wall.
I cover her mouth with my right hand, trying to control the heavy breaths that come from myself. Fuck she feels so good. The spontaneity, that dress, the way she moans against my hand desperately trying not to get caught. I roll my head back as I thrust inside of her, her thighs already pressing against me.
"Fuck, Amara. You're so beautiful." I groan quietly against her ear.
Her nails dig into me as the thin wall behind us shakes with each motion I make. Her cheeks flush, her eyes screwing shut with pleasure. She is a work of art. I can barely control myself.
I feel the pleasure start to build as I thrust all the way inside of her, her legs shaking against me. Holy shit.
She grips my hair as I pick up my pace, holding out until I feel the release from her. I don't finish until she does.
Her head rolls back as a shiver goes through her body, a moan escaping her lips that even my hand doesn't fully muffle as she reaches her climax.
The sensation and reaction from her alone is enough to push me over the edge, feeling myself spill inside of her. Thank god for the pill. It makes this so much more intimate.
I take a step back and wipe my forehead, watching as she steadies herself—her knees weak. She looks at me with wide eyes as she pants, "Holy shit."
"Right?"
I watch her fix her dress as I buckle my belt, she tries to pat the creases out, brushing her fingers through her hair to compose herself. "Do I look okay?"
"You look perfect."
"I mean-"
"You mean do you look like I just fucked you in a cloakroom?" I shrug. "Nah. You're good."
She rolls her eyes and unlocks the door, coming face to face with a man with a name tag and two jackets in hand. "I knew this wasn't the bathroom." I throw my hands up, shaking my head.
"Thanks buddy, keep up the good work," I pat him on the shoulder as we slip out.
Amara's POV:
We enjoyed the rest of our dinner. Mason wore a constant look of pride and contentment on his face for the duration—he was so proud of himself.
Julie didn't speak much, she ordered steak and basically looked at it more than us... but we made it through.
As we arrive back to Mason's apartment building, it's dark and we're both tired. As I reach to unlock the door, his hands wrap around my waist—his lips finding their way to my neck. "Again?" I chuckle.
"Well it had to be a quickie at the restaurant." he shrugs, planting a kiss on my cheek.
I laugh and turn to him, pushing the handle from behind me to open the door. I walk backwards, his cold lips against mine, the heat from inside blanketing us as we enter.
Just as we close the door, there's a knock.
Mason rolls his eyes.
"I'll get it. Grab me a glass of water?" I smile.
I open the door to see Enzo. He stands with his hands in his pockets and a look on his face that makes my blood run cold. He wears the same expression I've seen on Mason so many times before. "Enzo... what's wrong?"
"I need to speak to my brother."