Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
And I grab my dick, running my hands up and down it as I think about Alissa.
How soft her lips were, how she moaned when I was working her neck and ears.
How good her breast felt when I grabbed it, squeezed it. Pillowy, but with just the right amount of firmness.
I imagine what would have happened if the neighbor hadn’t interrupted us. She would have undone my belt, unzipped my fly, and let my dick out of my pants right then and there. She would have gotten down on her knees and sucked it.
Those lips felt so good on mine. I can’t imagine what they’d feel like on my cock. Sucking it up and down, up and down. Her warm tongue gliding across my shaft, encircling my head.
Fuck…
And I’m coming. In my mind’s eye, I’m coming down her throat, and she’s swallowing every drop.
My next release won’t be into the shower drain. It won’t even be into Alissa’s throat.
It’ll be into her sweet pussy. I’ll come inside her, claim her as my own after I’ve fucked her hard and fast.
I get out of the shower, towel myself dry, and grab a clean pair of boxer briefs out of my dresser to wear to bed.
My phone sits on my night table. Maybe Alissa has texted back.
I pick up the phone.
I’d love to, Maddox. I’ll see you tomorrow. Can’t wait!
15
ALISSA
I hate working Saturdays. This one is particularly painful because it’s an unseasonally beautiful day in the city of Chicago. The sun is out, gleaming over the iced-over Lake Michigan. It’s rare for the Midwest to experience a sunny day this time of year. Usually it’s clouded over from October to March. But the sun has burned through the clouds today, and I’m of course stuck in the hospital.
I keep telling myself that I love what I do. I’m making a difference in people’s lives.
But all I’ve been able to think about the entire day is that kiss with Maddox. How beastlike he became in that moment. And I’m seeing him again tonight.
Who knows what side of his personality will pop out on the second date?
I have an outfit chosen specially for the occasion, with an added twist I think he’ll like. Will we make it past my apartment door tonight?
I like that Maddox didn’t wait to text me. I hate the waiting game. It’s all rubbish. None of us are getting any younger, and I’ve always believed in striking while the iron is hot.
And God, is my iron hot.
If I don’t get ahold of myself, I’ll have to walk outside and plunge myself into a snowbank.
Get a grip, Liss.
I’m attending to two of my favorites today. Carol and Lou, two elderly patients who are sharing a room. They both have good enough insurance to have private rooms, but they checked in when we were nearing capacity from a flu that was spreading like wildfire, and we placed them together temporarily. When space cleared up, we offered to move one of them out, but they had hit it off at that point and apparently enjoy each other’s company.
They’re both waiting for transplants. Lou needs a heart, and Carol needs lungs. They’re both widowed and had never met before they were sharing a room, but they’re adorable together and have fallen for each other. Lou likes to say that he needs a transplant because Carol stole his heart, and Carol says Lou has taken her breath away.
Okay, maybe it’s a touch morbid, but it’s mostly cute.
I walk in. They’re watching TV together—a rerun of The Golden Girls, of course—and Lou is yapping on about seeing Bea Arthur in Mame years ago.
Carol’s silver hair is pulled back into a bun, and she put on a little blush and eye makeup today.
Lou was clearly handsome in his younger days. He has a strong jaw, a good head of white hair, and thick—but not bushy—eyebrows. He smiles when I walk in.
“Miss Alissa! Wonderful to see you,” he says.
“It’s great to see you two as well.” I take a look at Lou’s chart. “How are you feeling today? Any pain, on a level of one to ten?”
Lou shrugs. “I mean, when you get to be as old as we are, you’re never without a little bit of aches and pains. But nothing too bad.”
I nod, marking a box on Lou’s chart. I turn to Carol. “Same for you, Carol?”
She nods.
Because of her trouble breathing, Carol doesn’t speak much. Doesn’t seem to be an issue. Lou talks enough for the both of them.
“Any word on that heart?” Lou asks. “Carol and I just learned that we’re the same blood type. Wouldn’t it be charming if the same donor covered for both of us?”
I smile. “Charming if not a bit macabre, Lou.” I frown. “Unfortunately, nothing yet. But you never know.”