You visibly brightened, "Oh! That's a relief."

Jack could feel his blood pressure steadily rising. He knew coming to this conference with only you for company was a mistake. Robby had teased him about it when he realized, with horror, it would just be the two of you.

The entire trip he was overly conscious of his proximity to you, the heat of your body, your knee knocking into his. And you, by all accounts, seemed painfully oblivious to his internal warring. He had to fight himself not to touch you, not to look at you too long, not to imagine what it would be like to kiss and touch you the way he really wanted to.

Robby had encouraged him ages ago to just ask you out, but he felt so out of practice after his wife he couldn't deal with the possibility of rejection. It was much easier to just use the idea of you as a fantasy. What if he finally worked up the courage and you said yes?

But this entire trip, his anxiety had been at an all time high with no one else for him to buffer his nerves.

He cleared his throat, "The room only has one bed," He said lowly.

"Hm," You hummed and turned back to the receptionist, "Could we get a cot in the room?"

She shook her head ruefully, "I'm so sorry, all of them are in use. If you want I can cancel the reservation and fully refund—"

"No!" You said quickly, "No, no, it's um…" You turned back to Jack, "I'm totally fine with sharing a bed for one night if you are. I mean, everywhere has to be booked up because of the storm. We might not find anywhere else."

You were right, of course. Despite the fact that kill bill sirens were on a loop in his brain at the idea of having to be so close to you all night when he desperately needed to let off some steam in private after being so close to you all goddamn day— It seemed he didn't have much choice.

He forced a smile, "If it's good with you, it's good with me."

And with that, you took the room key from the receptionist and Jack Abbot willingly followed you down the hall into his own personal hell.

You showered first as he carefully removed his prosthesis and sighed in relief as he sat at the edge of the bed. Turning on the TV, he watched the weather report as a man went on and on about the severe blizzard conditions that were expected to start in a few hours. About ten minutes later, you came out of the bathroom in a robe and sat down next to him, the scent of coconut and vanilla wafting off you.

"Oh, shit," You murmured as you took in the report, "This is worse than they were saying a few hours ago."

Jack nodded. Although he was distracted with thoughts of you, he was also running over emergency contingency plans in his head. But really, besides having emergency supplies in his duffle (warming blanket, non perishable foods, flashlight, batteries, first aid kit) it seemed likely that they might be stuck here for more than just one night.

He tried not to think about that. Went to shower and fucked his fist in his shower chair, biting on his arm to keep himself quiet while his mind raced with thoughts of you, imagining himself peeling you out of that robe, kissing gently down your neck and color bone, licking up stray water droplets from the shower. He tried to imagine what you might sound like moaning his name in pleasure. He longed to worship you the way you deserved, if only he had the fucking nerve to tell you how he felt.

It was most on his mind this trip since you'd been forced to be alone together for so long. You'd traveled here together on the same flight, spent the entire conference side by side cracking jokes and mingling with other doctors. He saved you a seat at every table, listened intently when you rambled on about how nervous you were about presenting at a big conference for the first time.

"I've always been shit at oral presentations." You said, fingers twisting nervously in front of you as the two of you waited in the wings. You were up next.

"Don't put so much pressure on yourself," He said, "I'll be there the whole time. I'll jump in if you need me to.

You'd grabbed his hand, squeezed it gently, and smiled at him, "Thank you."

He'd nodded and pretended the softness of your hand in his didn't feel transformative, didn't make him feel like they were made for him to hold.

Now he made his way out of the shower, in just a pair of briefs as he used his crutches to maneuver back into the bedroom. You were sat up in the bed, eReader in hand, the blue light of the TV flickered over the plains of your face. Your eyes widened just slightly at the sight of him, shirtless and still dripping from the shower, but then swallowed and averted your eyes.

"Um, do you—" You cleared your throat and Jack stifled a smirk, "Do you need help with anything?"

Jack shook his head as he lowered himself to the edge of the bed again, "No, I got it. Thanks."

After some time, he made his way into the bed next to you and the two of you sat in companionable silence as the weather man continued to give play by play updates as the blizzard got ever closer. Jack was trying not to think about the warmth your body might provide in the night when you yawned and placed the eReader on your nightstand.

"Think I'm gonna try to get some sleep," You said, settling beneath the covers.

"Oh, let me turn off—" Jack started, reaching for the remote, but you cut him off.

"No, it's okay. Turn it off whenever. I can sleep through anything."

Jack sat awake for what felt like hours, unable to sleep for fear of reaching for you in his sleep. Somewhere in his subconscious was a level of desire he was hardly able to keep in check when he was awake. He had no idea what his body would do once his brain was offline.

He was listening to you snoring softly and had flipped the channel to M*A*S*H reruns when the room suddenly went dark. The whir of the heater creaked to silence until the only sound in the room was the wind rattling against the windows.

Fuck. He thought.

"Jack?" Your voice was bleary with sleep.

"Power went out," He said in response, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and fumbling around for his crutches.

"Well—Don't—It might come back in a second—"

"It's not coming back on. They can't send crews out in this weather."

"Well the hotel must have a generator."

"Maybe," Jack said, now ruffling through his duffel for a flashlight, "But it might be a while."

He clicked on the switch on the flashlight and immediately felt relief as light flooded the room. Pointing it towards your spot on the bed, you squinted and covered your eyes with your forearm at the sudden brightness.

"Sorry," He said and pointed it away from you.

"Why don't we just get some sleep," You said through a yawn, "The power'll probably be back up by the time we wake up."

You were likely right, but the more time passed the more he felt like the possibility of him being able to sleep while you were right next to him was slim to none.

He reached for his prosthesis, "I'm just gonna take a walk to the front desk to see—"

"No!" You said quickly, and it came out almost like a whine, "Please, don't. I just, um, I don't wanna be alone."

He almost laughed, "Are you… Afraid of the dark?"

You sighed, "Don't make fun."

"I'm not," He said quickly, schooling his features, "I'm just surprised. I won't leave if you don't want me to."

"Thank you," You said, the relief in your tone palpable.

He climbed back into the bed, leaving the flashlight on the nightstand and pointing towards the ceiling so that it bathed most of the room in a warm glow. He saw you shiver after a moment and frowned, "You're cold?"

You sank deeper into the duvet, "I can already tell the heat is out."

"Well I have an emergency warming blanket—"

You laughed, "You really are prepared for everything, huh?"

Not everything. He thought. Not you.

Instead, he only shrugged.

"I don't want some weird foil blanket, I'd have to be close to hypothermic before I'd use it."

He chuckled, "Suit yourself."

But after almost twenty minutes without the heat, you were nearly vibrating the whole mattress with your shivering.

"Could I, um…" You sounded shy and when he looked over at you, you were staring at the ceiling, "Could I move a little closer to you? Just…For warmth. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

He fingers itched to pull you to him, envelop you entirely in his warmth, but he resisted.

"Yeah, of course." He said instead, carefully camouflaging the want from his voice.

You scooted your body over until your hips were touching his. He wanted to resist, really, he did. But you were so cold.

"Well, that's not gonna help you much," He said softly and turned on his side toward you, "Can I?" He asked, reaching his arms toward you.

You barely hesitated before nodding and he pulled you into his arms. Once settled, you sighed in contentment, running your hands along his arms as they held you flush to his chest.

"This okay?" He asked softly.

You nodded, "Yeah, you?"

He closed his eyes, "I'm good."

He relished in the feel of you in his arms, the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. With you so close to him, his mind wandered to thoughts of kissing your neck and allowing his hands to wander beneath your shirt, knead and toy with the soft flesh of your breasts—

Shit. He felt it when the blood rushed between his legs, his cock swelling and prodding at your ass. He felt the flush crawl up his neck, "Fuck, sorry, I—"

"It's okay," You said quickly, sounding a bit breathless, "It a normal reaction, but…"

He hung on your every word, "But…?"

"Well, I just, if—If it were more than that. That would be okay, too."

He thought his heart might have skipped a beat. He swallowed thickly, "Yeah?"

You nodded, "But it's okay if… if you don't feel the same."

He laughed, "You have no idea just how desperately I want you."

"Really?"

He nodded and used his hands to gently tilt your face to the side so he had access to your neck where he laid gentle kisses all the way up to your ear. You sighed and turned your head so you could meet his kisses. The taste of you, finally on his tongue, it was addicting. The sounds you made, better than anything he could have imagined.

His hands roamed up your shirt and as he teased and twisted your nipples, you squirmed against him, creating friction against his cock, "Jesus Christ." He hissed.

So quickly, you were putty in his hands, unable to string a sentence together. Drunk on his touch.

He slipped a hand down your belly and into your panties. Slowly, he ran his fingers over your lips and then circled your clit. Repeated the motion, ghosting over your entrance, but never quite penetrating. Until you were writhing against him, rutting your hips into his palm, whining for more.

"That feel good, baby? You want more?"

You hiccuped, nodding helplessly.

"You want me to fuck you with my fingers?"

"Please, Jack." You managed finally and he smiled, pressed a kiss just below your ear.

"Good girl, so good for me." He murmured and slowly pushed his middle finger inside you.

Already wet and aching, you accommodated the stretch with ease and he began prodding, finding where it was that most drove you crazy. Then he pushed his ring finger inside you, used his thumb to continue rubbing your clit.

In moments, you were falling apart in his arms. He cooed sweet words in your ear as you came down and then slowly slipped his fingers out of you once you settled again. Unable to help himself, he sucked your juices off his fingers. The taste of you riled him so thoroughly, his cock twitched, aching and full against his thigh as he considered splaying you open to feast properly.

But before he could do anything, the TV came back on and the heater hummed back to life. You turned in his arms to face him, the blue light casting shadows across your face. But it didn't matter, he saw the giddiness you tried to hide. You swallowed, "Looks like the generator kicked in."

He nodded and ran his thumb over your lower lip, "It's a shame, I was looking forward to keeping you warm all night."

Finally, a smile split across your face and you closed the inches between you to kiss him, "I'm still pretty cold," You said softly into his mouth, "If the offer still stands."

Two diagnosis were switched up so a poor old man thought he was dying a lot sooner than he was. Jack smoothed that one out.

And a man with heart palpations just couldn't leave his cat so had to bring him in and Gloria just had to come down at that same time.

So you were ready to crash when there was a knock on the door.

Something you learnt living in Robby's space was the lack of visitors he had. You'd bumped into Mrs Hathaway who lived two doors down and had a bad habit of smoking a pack a day and carried the smell with her and explained that Robby was away so you were looking after his one house plant and bringing in his male.

But Mrs Hathaway never came around.

You wondered if you'd been so tired you'd called yourself a take-away and forgot as you looked through the peep hole.

Long grey hair and stormy eyes looked back at you. A denim vest and tattoos standing out against the canvas of skin. Before you wouldn't have known the guy; would've debated crashing Robby's peace to ask who this guy was but now he was a frequent flyer at PTMC.

“Hey, Duke,” you greeted, holding the door open.

Duke grinned and went in for a hug. “Hey.”

He smelt like bike oil and leather but you patted his back. You didn't know if he was deep down an affectionate guy or if it was the diagnosis but every time he visited the hospital for check ups or meds for his pain who was asking for particular nurses and buying up their time with idle chatter.

Nobody seemed to mind.

“Robby's still not back,” you said, pulling away and following him into Robby's place.

“Oh yeah, I know, just needed to pick up some tools I left here,” he said.

You watched him move around, flicking on lights as he went that you hadn't had the chance to turn on yet. He moved around Robby's place like he knew every nook and cranny. Maybe he did. Slowly, you were learning Robby had a life outside of the Pitt.

“So, how's the bachelor pad treating you?” Duke called as he wondered around the space.

“It's nice, it's good,” you said, following behind a pace or two and just hoping the tools weren't in Robby's room. Then he might see your bag you'd slowly let spill out over the place and a coffee mug you'd left from this morning. He might see the rumpled sheets and thrown over cover and realise you were sleeping in your bosses bed and not the provided spare room.

The guest room bed hadn't been made and you'd been so tired coming back that you'd just crashed in his bed, for one night. You were going to clean the sheets but then his bed was so comfortable you struggled even getting up in the morning.

It felt like an embrace from him.

“The wi-fi playing up or anything?” he asked, searching through kitchen cupboards.

“No, it's been fine.”

“Been eating? Punk has a good kitchen.”

“Did Robby ask you to check on me, or something?” you asked, hoping Robby didn't think he'd made a mistake in asking you to house sit. His one plant was very well cared for and mail organised by what you think required his upmost attention first. You'd even kept a pile of junk mail just in case he was particular in the sort he got rid of.

“No,” Duke chuckled. “I just know I'll get bonus points if I check in on you.”

Before you could ask what he meant by that there was a triumphant cheer as he started to pull out so many tools and a tool box you wondered if he was robbing Robby.

“Did Robby tell you he has a parking spot reserved out front? Parking can be a bitch here.”

“Oh, I don't drive I catch the bus.”

“He tell you about the camera's.”

The sleep that had been invading your every sense ebbed away. “Cameras?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Around the place. Installed them a couple months back.”

Cameras. All around the place.

You searched high around in places you'd never thought to scrutinise before. There, looming like a bird of prey in the corner of the kitchen was what could be assumed a camera. It was just a black dot to you with the high ceilings but when you glanced over at the living area there was a better view of the camera sat in the corner, aimed right where you stood at the kitchen island.

Cameras. About the place. The place you'd been living for weeks.

You'd been sleeping in Robby's bed, you'd been flaunting around in your shirt and nothing else. You had Trinity around to eat pizza and drink wine in your bras. You'd looked through Robby's stuff, you'd-

You'd done un-speakable things to yourself in that bed.

Were they a security measure? Did the tapes end up anywhere? And if they did, could you find them and burn them.

“The camera's,” said Duke, standing with tool box full in hand. “He mentioned them right.”

No. Robby hadn't mentioned anything of the sort. Hadn't even let onto the fact you might want to be on your guard. He'd welcomed you into his place, told you to treat it like yours while he was gone.

“Oh, yeah, cameras. He-he told me about the camera's,” you lied, gulping down the truth.

What if you said no he hadn't and it was written all over your face that you were guilty of.... of something. What if Duke thought it was Robby's fault? He was probably just tired, or forgot they were even there.

“Yeah, took us ages to get up. We were no good at it, you know, old men and technology,” he said, heading toward the door already.

“Yeah, yeah... totally.”

“Okay, see ya soon, doc!”

“You too, Duke.” As distracted as you were, Duke let himself out. The door closed and you were left alone with the cameras.

Maybe they weren't working all the time. Maybe, since Robby knew it was just you and he could trust you he'd turned off the cameras. Maybe he really had just forgot they were there and no longer used them.

Maybe's chased you into Robby's ensuite, sat you down on the of the counter. You scanned the corners subtly in case you were being watched but found only clean tiles and sterile walls. Safe.

As for the rest of the place, you dreaded to think.

You had almost forgot all about the cameras again. The first night you slept stiff, still un-able to drag yourself from the comfort of Robby's bed but you found the camera, tucked away in a corner. You'd watched for a flashing light but found none, so did that not mean it was off?

You thought about texting Robby, asking him about the cameras but you looked back at the last texts. He'd sent you a picture of a lake he was at, said it was peaceful, said he was enjoying his time. You didn't want to freak him out or accuse him of anything.

You knew the kind of guy Robby was. If he remembered the cameras, he'd tell you.

Moving on from that catastrophe was easy when you worked in the ED. Disasters came in and managed your time. You'd thought about asking Jack when you saw him at hand off but smiled him off.

Days later you were forgetting all about it.

“I mean, I've heard some pretty crazy stories before but a carrot, up the butt,” Trinity chuckled down the phone.

“Is it bad it's not even the first I've seen,” you said. “I had someone with a cucumber up there once.”

Santos hummed on the other end of the phone. “I get it, longer, smoother.”

You had been chopping up a carrot to make a ragu and thought different of it, putting it aside and forging any vegetable that could be seen as phallic. “You're disgusting.”

“Say that to the patient with half a carrot stuck up there.”

A quick sear of pain made you jump as beads of blood found its way down to Robby's chopping board and the onion you'd been slicing.

“Oh shit-”

“What happened? Found Robby's Viagra?” she said down the other line.

“Hilarious,” you grit out. Without thinking you grabbed the tea towel and wrapped it around your hand, holding it up high. You cursed quietly again when you realised you'd just ruined one of his. “I just, er, dropped one of Robby's glasses, I gotta go, I'll call you back.”

You wedged your wrapped up hand into your chest and ended the call.

Being a doctor yourself you knew you could handle a cut, blood, a gash. Peeling it away and dabbing at the edges you found the wound, a clean cut, not too deep. Stitches, maybe.

If you kept it wrapped up you could just leave it till the morning for your shift-

Your phone rang again and you answered without looking. Most calls logged in your phone were Trinity anyway. “No, I have not seen a banana in a vagina.”

“Well hello to you too,” said a striking and familiar deep rumble of a voice.

“Robby. Hey, sorry I-I thought you were Santos.”

He chuckled but it was curt. “Exciting day in work?”

“Yeah-yeah, you could say that,” you put down your phone on speaker and re-wrapped your hand. “So what's up? What's with the call?”

“I just wanted to... check in, it's been a while.”

You squeezed your hand, trying to stop the bleeding. “Everything's fine. All fine. Place is still standing.”

“Yeah, yeah, that's good, that's good,” he said with hesitation. “How are you? Staying safe, no-no accidents around the place I hope. Sometimes that place is a death trap. Door can stick... and- and my knives can be... sharp.”

Suddenly you realised.

The camera's.

Robby hadn't called you while he'd been away. He'd text only oddly to see how things were or send pictures of where he was- that was a new development.

He'd texted you about the temp playing up in his shower after you made one too hot and had to lie bare on is bed with his fan on you.

He'd texted that he had extra blankets if you were cold when you were wrapped up in his dressing gown.

He knew about the camera's.

Robby had seen. Everything.

“Still there?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry just- funny you should bring up the knives, I just had a little accident.”

“Are you okay? Did you cut yourself?”

You tried not to eye the camera's. “Just a small cut.”

“You wouldn't lie to me would you?” he asked, a dark tint to his voice.

You didn't know what worried you more. The fact he was watching you close enough to see and call you, or the fact the thought didn't creep you out as you supposed it should. “How would you feel if I bloodied one of your tea towels.”

“Relieved, as long as you get your cut looked at.”

“And if I got blood on a chopping board.”

“Chopping board- bit of wood, I can get some more wood up here.”

“And how is your trip?”

Robby chuckled. “Oh no, no, no you're not distracting me from this. Got to the ER.”

“It's not that deep.”

“It loo-”

For a moment you were both silent, knowing what he was going to say. It looks bad. You felt burning in the back of your skull as you felt the camera's around you like his own gaze when he was watching your procedures in the ED.

“Better safe than sorry,” he said with a clear of his throat.

“I'll be fine.”

“Yeah, well, I've already texted Jack letting him know you're on your way in so you don't want to disappoint him do you. Or me. Do you, huh?”

You hoped the camera's didn't pick up on the blush rising to your cheeks. “No, I do not, Doctor Robby.”

He hummed. “Good girl.”

Your breath caught in your throat and the sudden thump of pain in your hand moved somewhere lower. Was it normal to feel aroused by the idea of being watched, with a cut bloody hand and your boss down the line.

“I guess I better get going, I don't want to disappoint.”

“No you don't.”

“So, I should go.”

“You should.”

He did not hang up and neither did you. At least you had the excuse of doing it all one handed.

“Okay, bye then,” you said, biting down on your lip to hide your smile.

“Bye.”

“Speak soon?”

“Yeah, I'll call you.”

Finally you pulled the phone back and declined. You wondered if you could hide away in the bathroom but the camera...

How much time did he spend watching you? Did he just so happen to check in at the same time the knife sliced your palm? Was he watching and had been watching since he left?

Had he watched when you plunged your fingers into your own pussy, spreading your need around... and called his name?

What kind of person did it make you if you wanted him to see that?

You got your hand sorted, stropping into the ED like you were a petulant child. Jack had only laughed at you, all but waiting in a swivel stool and turning around like a James Bond villain just to say: “I've been expecting you.”

However, your hand did need stitches and as the slice was along your palm it made trauma procedures difficult. You were stuck ordering around Ogilvie which was about as fun as it sounded and charting.

There was only small reliefs.

Practically as soon as you got back to Robby's he was dropping you a text or calling you. Usually it was under the pretence of checking on your hand or that he was waiting on an important letter but you knew it wasn't that. He knew exactly when you were home, whether it was overtime or not.

The camera's became hard to ignore but you tried to. You didn't want to freak Robby out by telling him you know about them. You didn't want to scare him off from watching you. Shouldn't it have been the other way around? Shouldn't he know that what he was doing was wrong on so many levels? Borderline, stalker-ish.

Still, one night, one lonely night you were in his bed unable to sleep. You were too busy thinking about Robby and the cameras.

It was hard being single and lonely. You had your own devices but toys were back at yours (Trinity brought you them as a joke birthday present and it turned into an even bigger joke when you opened them up in front of Denis) and you didn't want to bring toys into Robby's room.

Porn videos could get you going. Maybe a smutty book.

But knowing the camera's were there made it all the more easier to slide your fingers in your panties and find your arousal pooling.

Maybe Robby wasn't watching. Maybe he could tell this was a private moment and he shouldn't have been watching. The thought had your fingers stilling over your clit, your mind racing ahead of you. Maybe he didn't look at the camera's... maybe this was you over thinking it all...

Your phone rang on the bedside table and you reached over to get it.

There was a flash of Robby's name so familiar to you know it was like your own phone background.

Your other hand was still down your panties when you answered.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” his voice was gruff, low in his throat like he'd just woken up. “What are you up to?”

So, he was watching.

You smirked to yourself, trying desperately not to look at the camera. “Whyyyy are you asking?”

You heard him shuffle around on the other end. “Dunno, was just bored. Was thinking about you.”

“Oh, really?” trying not to sound too delighted was not your specialty.

“Yeah... seem to be doing that a lot these days.”

“You must miss me, huh?”

“Yeah. I must,” he hummed. “You know, I think you'd like it up here. Heck, I actually think I could've used the company, too.”

You slid a finger through your entrance. You were wet before just thinking about him, his voice low and gruff, the way it fell when talking through a serious procedure made it so you were clenching with every rise and fall of his voice. “If I was there with you who'd look after your place?”

“Hmm, you make a good point,” he said, a small tick to his words. “Speaking of my place, which bed you sleeping in?”

You felt your cheeks tint red as you pushed in another finger, pushing in and out slowly. Did he want to hear you were in his bed, even though he could see that you were? You toyed with him a little. It seemed only fair. “Why? Didn't you say I could pick either?”

“I'm just curious. Tell me.”

You closed your eyes and inhaled the smell of him that still lingered around his bed, clouding the edges of your mind in desire. “Yours.”

He chuckled. “Mine, huh?”

“Yeah. It's got the ensuite. It's bigger. It's comfy,” you said. You moved your fingers around your clit, drawing small circles and stretching your legs wider. You had some decency, let it be known, you were under the covers with an old and tattered T-shirt but you were sure it wasn't hard to tell what you were getting up to under there.

“Comfy, you think so?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Smells like you too.”

A breath caught down the line. “Do you like that it smells like me?”

You nodded, growing wetter as your eyes closed. “I do. I can wash it before you get back so it doesn't smell like me.”

“No,” he said, an un-mistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down sat behind his words. “Don't wash them. Don't.”

You smirked to yourself, the circles you were drawing over your nerves growing lazy. “What are you doing, Robby?”

“Nothing,” he said, a teasing lift to his voice and a rustle of clothes. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you said, sliding your fingers into yourself and out, spreading your arousal as your hole clenched around nothing. You shuffled, getting your shirt to ride higher, but not enough for him to tell.

“Are you doing nothing in my bed?”

“Do you want me to be?”

There was a small but shark intake of breath on the other end. “Yeah. Yeah I do.”

You pictured Robby spread out on a sofa in a log cabin somewhere far away. His legs would be spread wide, jeans and boxers pulled down till his cock, hard, was against his stomach. His laptop out at the coffee table, phone to his ear. You wondered if he took things slow? You'd always pictured him the hot and heavy type. His fist wrapped around his cock and pumping, tickling the dark hairs you imagined lived at the base of him.

Your hips jutted up as you pictured him. Hot and heavy. You imagined him next to you in his bed, his coarse hand tracing up your body, finger pinching your nipple.

“What have you been doing... at my place?” he asked, a sudden breathless tone to him. “In my bed.”

You bit back your lip. “Sleeping,” you teased.

Robby groaned, almost a growl. “What-what else?”

“Is there supposed to be something else?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Fuck yes. You pictured him spreading your legs, rubbing his mouth against you with the burn of his beard. Fuck yes. You imagined his cock heavy on your tongue, needy and groaning. Fuck yes. You pumped your fingers in and out and circled your clit imagining the plumpness of his fingers.

“Whatever- whatever you want me to be doing in your bed.” It was a dangerous sort of game you were playing, balancing over the line you weren't crossing with the cameras like it was a tightrope.

“Well... you know what a lonely, old man like me does in that bed, huh?” he said. “You wanna know?”

You nodded and without asking for words he started to tell you, because of course he didn't have to hear your confirmation to see you it.

“After long and hard days, just come home, put the tv on low, maybe some music... drink a beer,” he listed as you impatiently waited for him to get to the exciting parts. Still, his voice was enough to have your legs stretched open, your fingers working yourself open. “Sometimes it's tough to stop thinking about my pretty resident...”

“Hope you're not talking about Whitaker,” you joked.

“You know I'm not, baby,” said Robby with a shaky exhale. “You know I go home... get so hard thinking about you...”

You moaned out a gasp.

“You like me thinking about you?” he asked.

You thought of him spitting down on his cock, slowly rubbing it up and down. Or maybe he had pre-cum enough to lubricate it for him. “I do, I do.”

There was a puff of air on the other side. “You ever think about me?”

Your back arched off the bed as you curled your fingers inside of you. “Yes.”

“You ever think about me in that big lonely bed, my cock hard for you. God, can you picture me and my hands running all over you. Would start at the bottom. Would you be wet for me, babygirl?”

“Yes, Robby, yes, I am,” you gasped out.

There was a light chuckle.

“Oh, you are?” he said with a seethe. Was he teasing the tip of himself? squeezing and thinking about your hand there instead? “You thinking about me, baby?”

“You know I am.”

Robby laughed, the sort one laughed when they knew something you didn't. It was cruel. It was mean. But was it worse you knew and liked it? “Yeahhh, I know you are.”

You tilted your head into his pillow, shifting till you could breathe him in and careful not to drool. “Thinking about- about your tongue,” you said, rubbing your clit with hard pressure, trembling with need.

“My tongue, huh?” he said, a jangle of a belt. Was he pushing away his jeans and spreading his legs further? Were you framed on the counter, between his legs how he wanted you to be? “Are you thinking about my tongue in your needy pussy? Is it making you wet?”

“Yes, yes, Robby. I really want you.”

“Spread your legs for me.”

“They are.”

He grunted. “Wider.”

Almost irritated that he wasn't here, you pushed the cover down till you knew the camera could see all of you. Still clothed. Still clad. But Robby would be able to see your hand down your black panties and how far your legs fell open.

He pretended like he heard the covers move instead of saw it happen. “Fuck... yes, baby.”

“I wish you were here,” you said, eyes kept close to imagine him and to not give the camera a devilish wink. “Wish I- your cock-”

“What about my cock?” he asked, voice strained. “You want it? You want my cock? How'd you want it?”

You circled your fingers around you, jerking at every touch, desperate to come but even more desperate to keep it going. “Want to taste it. Lick it. I- I want to know what you taste like.”

Robby shuddered. It was like you could feel it through the phone and through you. “Shit, you-you can't say things like that, baby.”

“But really want it,” you moaned. “Always wanted it down my throat.”

“Oh fuck, always huh?”

“Always.”

“Well... you've been such a good girl looking after my place for me, haven't you?” he teased. Listening closely, you thought you could hear the sound of skin on skin, the slick squelch of it. His hand working himself, maybe he was even sweating with desire. “Sleeping in my bed, just like I wanted. Living in my space. Bathing in my shower. Maybe I should thank you...”

“Please, please Robby.”

“Ah, oh god,” he strained. “Would lay you out on my bed, clean up all your mess with my tongue. Think you'd have to suck on my fingers to stop all the moaning, I have neighbours, baby-”

You didn't care as you moaned out at that.

“- god I want to fuck you. Oh, I want to fuck you so bad.”

You put your phone on speaker, set it aside and worked your hand under your shirt to grope your breast, moving from one to the other.

“Keep playing with yourself, baby, keep playing with yourself,” he groaned.

“Robby, are you- are you close?” you asked. Every circle of your clit had you closer and closer to the edge, had your legs trembling and heart pounding. You could hear Robby mumbling to himself.

“Shit- god- you're always so beautiful. Spread out, god I can picture you. Your skin so smooth, pussy so sweet. Want to bury myself in there, yeah, fuck, baby-”

“Robby-”

“-Yes baby! I'm close- I'm close, I wont last.”

“Wanna hear you come,” you whined.

“You first,” he said. “Think of me there. Press you into my bed, have you on your stomach, press allll of me into you. Cock just- just buried inside you there. Could just watch your ass go, shit, get it red.... you know how. Oh my god baby, please come for me.”

You pressed down with circles on your clit and came around your fingers, whining, moaning and you heard Robby over the phone groaning, heard his small exclamations as he came around his hand.

“Oh baby, you did so good for me, so good,” he uttered as the both of you caught your breath.

You took your phone off speakerphone and placed it back to your ear. It was small but you felt closer to him with his voice deep down your ear.

“Now clean yourself up on my bed. When I come back, wanna smell yourself there with me.”

The Pitt swallowed you up the rest of the days that followed. As if it knew you had something to go home to, as if it knew you wanted to do nothing more than talk to Robby, think about Robby, dream about Robby, it kept you so busy with late nights and six am wake up calls you had little time to live in this new found lust.

Robby didn't push. You didn't speak about that night because you didn't have to. He still texted with regular check ups when you got home. Still send random pictures of lakes or trees but he knew the demands of work and he didn't prod.

“Have we got labs back on our guy in seven?” you asked Dana.

“Not yet, want me to chase them up?” she asked.

“Please. I'm already behind on discharging two patients,” you muttered to her as Al-Hishimi walked by, head held high as she over saw the place. “But all caught up on my charting!” you said loudly to assure her.

You got a nod back and that was enough for you.

“How's Robby?”

You looked back to Dana, lips pursed, brows raised in question. “What?”

“You heard from him? I guess you had, you stayin' in his place and all,” she said, looking at you through her glasses.

You checked down to your tablet and the patients in three and twelve you needed to discharge, hoping the glow of the screen wouldn't blow up your blush. “Er, yeah, he's doing good, I-I think. We don't talk... all the time.”

“Yeah?” Dana smirked.

You glanced back up at her, catching the knowing glint in her eyes. You looked back down. “Yeah.”

“Okay then.”

Dana moved around you from the counter, patting your hand lovingly before she stopped in her tracks. “Oh. Looks like I can ask him myself.”

“What?”

There were already crowding voices, people calling out his name and nurses going in for fist bumps and high fives. There were questions about what he was doing back earlier than he said, if he'd brought back any gifts. You even heard Garcia who was passing about that promised butchers knife.

Robby stood in the middle of the group like he was some celebrity but his eyes found yours over all of them.

“He returns!” cheered Dana, bringing her arms around him.

One of Robby's own arms snuck around her back. “And in one piece.”

She pulled away and slapped him in the chest. “Hey, don't joke about that.”

Slowly, with Dana's coaching everyone moved back, got back to their jobs and their life. And slowly, Robby sauntered over to you.

You tried to look busy. Tried to wet your mouth that had run dry at the sight of him. A hip bumped into yours as Santos- an all too giddy Santos- slid up next to you.

“Looks like we're back to being room-mates, roomie,” she teased with a grin.

“If I didn't know any better I'd say you'd missed me?”

Santos tried to brush it off but you saw the way she shifted her weight from foot to foot in discomfort. She usually only got so discomforted when emotions like love was involved. “Please. Just want to out-weigh Denis with gender again.”

You smelt Robby before you heard him. He said Santo's name, then yours.

Trinity welcomed him back before she left just as quick as she'd arrived.

Robby let on the counter next to you. He was in jeans and the same coat he'd left it, his bag slung on his back with a helmet dangling off the side. He wasn't working, but he'd came by anyway.

“You're back early,” you said, flicking between patient charts.

“Surprised?”

“Very,” you said, realising you weren't as confident as you'd been nights ago. “I can get my stuff out tonight.”

“I don't want you out,” he said, dropping his voice low. “You know why I came here early, don't go shy on me now.”

“I'm not going shy,” you said, though you were.

“Are you blushing?” he teased, the graze of his knuckle brushing your neck and sending tingels over your body.

“No.”

“You are.”

You batted him away and turned to consider him. “Why'd you come back early?”

Robby wet his lips, eyes casting over you. “Because I had something to come back for.”

You eyes averted to his hands, reverting back to thinking of the coarse skin and imagining him dragging his fingers over you. “I don't get off my shift for another two hours.”

“I can wait.”

Waited he did and the two of you barley made it past his front door before he was grasping you and kissing you. There was no hesitation in his hands or your lips. He gripped and squeezed your hips as the door slammed shut behind you. Robby didn't waste a second in pulling off his jacket and grabbing you again, as if scared you'd disappear in the wind.

He didn't even glance around his place. The only thing he was honed in on was you.

Your lips worked against his furiously, hands gripping his shoulders. “How was your trip?” you were breathless, pulling away to un-button his shirt.

Robby chased your lips, eyes closed, lips curling up into a drunken smile. “Fine.” He kissed you again, mint on his tongue. His hands were warm as they traced up your scrub top, un-tucking your vest from your pants.

His rough hands on your skin woke something else in you. A need you thought you'd made friends with but clearly didn't even know. He kneaded the skin at your hips, working hard to leave red marks.

“Dreamt about you,” he said, lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, nose nudging a path. “Every night.”

“Every night?” you gasped as he bit and licked up your neck.

“Mornings. Afternoons. All the time.”

Your smiled to yourself, pushing off his shirt. “It was supposed to be a relaxing break.”

“It wasn't.”

The two of you had stumbled to his room and pulled off clothes. The both of you knew the way well. By the time you'd pushed the door open Robby's belt was discarded as well as your shirt.

With firm hands Robby turned you around till you were facing the headboard, till his hips flushed against your ass and the rough denim of his jeans rubbed against your ass.

Your head lulled back onto his shoulder and he licked up your skin.

“This where you slept?” he muttered, nipping at your ear. “This where you touched yourself, thinking 'bout me?”

“Y-yes.”

You felt the scratch of his beard as he turned his head. You noticed, from the corner of his eyes that he looked up to the corner where the camera sat. He was delighting in this.

“Show me,” he demanded.

You wriggled against him, trying to turn and set yourself on the bed.

His hands gripped your hips. “No, show me here... now.”

All you could do was shuffle down your scrub pants and panties while Robby un-clasped your bra, messaging your breasts. You groaned at the feel of him working at you while you slid a finger over your folds.

“There we go, that's my girl,” he encouraged, chin resting on your shoulder and watching. “Another finger, another finger.”

You slid two in just as you had the other night, imagining his weight on you, his hands. You thought you were wet then but now your need spread down you.

Robby made out with the skin of your neck, stretching his arm out to hold yours that worked inside of you. “God, you're so beautiful. Could watch you like this all night.”

You whined, tilting your head back to give him more access. “Robby.” You thrust your ass back into his crotch and you could feel the hard outline of his cock.

“You come in this bed, huh?” he uttered.

“Y-yes.”

He hummed into your skin. “More than once I bet.”

“Yes, Robby!”

His hand snaked down to yours, helping move your fingers in and out of you. “God, you're so wet, so wet for me.”

Your hand flew up, grasping the back of his neck. “Robby, please... can I have your fingers inside of me?”

Robby smiled against you. “You asked so nicely. Such a good girl,” he said. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and brought out your fingers, leading your hand up to his mouth. “Bet you're not always though, huh?”

Two of his thick fingers pushed into your easily and he moaned.

“Fuck baby, you're warm... tight-”

You groaned at the feel of his fingers working inside of you and his tongue licking up the mess of your on his fingers. He brought your fingers into his mouth, groaning.

In moments you were withering, a moaning mess and grinding down on his hand while his tongue swirled around your fingers, sucking and nipping at your finger pads while his beard scraped your hand.

If those cameras kept a log somewhere, you were dying to see Robby. The feel of his hips rocking into you, him moaning around your fingers.

“Can you come on my fingers?” he asked, voice muffled by where he wouldn't release you in his mouth.

You shook your head in defiance. “I want- I want more.”

“You can have more, you can have more,” he said, finally taking your fingers from his mouth and licking up them. “But you have to come first.”

His thumb pressed down on your clit in small circles and your caved into his body, coming over his hand. Robby helped you ride against his hand.

Only when your body stopped moving and your chest calmed its heaving did Robby pull away from you.

He pushed you down on the bed, ass up and dropped to his knees, shoving his face between your folds.

You cried out at the feel of his tongue splitting your fold and soaking up your arousal and orgasm. His hands spread your thighs, pulling at the skin till you were spread, till his nose ran up and down. “Oh fuck, Robby!”

“Hold onto the sheets, baby,” he said, muffled inside of you.

There was little anything else for you to do. Your hands curled around the sheets, pulling. You thrust your ass up into his face but Robby welcomed it, chuckling into you. His beard scratched between your legs, deliciously.

He slurped once before pulling back, crowding over you till all of him was pressed against you. “Kiss me.”

And you did. You tasted yourself on his tongue, on his lips. He turned you down over onto your back and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into you till his weight was crushing you.

It could have been hours of breathing in each other, of licking into each others mouths, of sucking on each others bottom lips, of feeling each other up and mapping what made each other tingle and shake.

Robby stepped back and made a slow show of popping the button on his jeans and pushing them down slow with his boxers.

You crawled over the bed till you were at the edge, staring at his cock. There was dark hair over his chest, leading down to himself where he curved, hard up to his stomach.

Robby stared down at you, staring at him. “You want it? You want my cock?”

“Yeah... please...”

Robby stroked back your hair. “Did you think about my cock, in my bed?”

You looked up to him and smirked. “All the time.”

You took him into your mouth, slow and watched as Robby threw his head back. You could feel him tense before letting go, shoulders sagging, body melting as you slowly worked up and down his length, savouring the taste of him.

Robby kept on hand stroking back your hair tenderly but didn't push you down to his cock. He let you set the pace. “Oh my god,” he groaned as you licked the tip, circling it.

You learnt every tell of him. The tick of his jaw when you licked over him, the small pressure from his finger tips, his groans about how good you were doing that all went straight down to your core.

Whatever you'd imagined, this was better than any dream.

“Deeper... deeper.... there we go, baby, there we go... take me so good.”

You moaned around him and Robby chocked on a moan before pulling you off.

You knelt on the bed, hands running over the plumpness of his stomach. You peppered kisses along his chest as his hands pushed back your hair.

You glanced up at him, something wicked curling in your stomach as you saw him eye the camera again. “Robby...”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Were you ever gonna tell me about the cameras?”

He froze. You felt his heart pound under your hand, his eyes levelled on you. “You knew?”

“Duke told me.”

Robby scoffed, leaving you to figure Duke's visit did not capture Robby's attention over the camera's. “Duke.”

“He didn't mean to tell me... like you didn't.”

His breath stuttered, eyes peering at you like he was trying to read you. “I forgot.”

“Forgot?” your fingers curled around his cock.

He seethed in a breath. “You set the fire alarm off, fuck I saw you. Couldn't stop, but you knew didn't you?”

Your hand may have been wrapped around his cock but you didn't have the upper hand. He looked down at you with a knowing glint, his hand cupping your chin and forcing you to look up at him as you slowly stroked him.

“You got yourself off on it, put on a show for me,” he said, his fingers slowly stroking your chin. “Wanted this dirty old man to watch, didn't you?”

You swiped your thumb over the tip of his cock.

Robby seethed. “Yeah you did.”

A couple strokes later and Robby was moving away from you, leaving you to watch with wide eyes.

You watched as he pulled his phone out and set it in front of you before he climbed up on his bed behind you. Steadying himself on his arms he braced and slowly sank on top of you, the tip of himself rubbing between your folds.

The app.

The screen lit up with a HD video of you lying on the bed, Robby's body curving over you. You could see himself lowering himself into your folds.

“Fuck,” you moaned, eyeing the camera.

Robby kissed down your neck, bruises forming there. “You wanna watch yourself? You wanna watch yourself come on my cock, baby?”

You looked back at his phone. “Yes.”

“Dirty girl.”

Slowly, Robby pushed himself. He pushed in and pushed in and pushed in till he was groaning and his hips flushed yours. In the camera, you had become one.

“Ro-Robby,” you mewled.

His head comes down to your shoulder, kissing it gently as he looked down at the camera too. “Look at us, baby, look at us.”

Slowly Robby started to rock his hips, enough to set a tortuous pace.

“I watched you moan my name, while you pumped your fingers inside of you, you wanted me, didn't you?”

“Y-yes!”

Your body slowly moved with his thrusts, his arms tensing at your sides as he tried, desperately, to not give in. To not bite down on your shoulder and thrust harder. To not have his bedroom echoing with the thump of the bed and skin on skin.

“Please, please go harder,” you begged, reaching around to claw at his ass.

“Can't,” he grunted.

“Please!”

Robby's hand was firm around your neck as he leant over you. “I'll come baby, I'll come.” He thrust in deep, till you could feel the slap of his balls against your ass.

“Fuck!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he moaned, drawing the camera in closer. “You're so tight baby, taking it so well... just like I wanted you to.”

His thrusts grew faster, harder, his body plopping on yours leaving you a moaning mess. His hands couldn't settle, running over your hips, gripping and spreading the skin of your ass. He grunted and groaned and the two of you started to bounce on his bed.

“Tell me you liked me watching you,” he moaned.

“I- I liked you watching me come.”

“I heard you moan for me, in my bed.... breathing me in... you wanted me so bad.”

“Y-yes, Robby, so bad- so bad!”

Robby groaned and slid out of you, leaving you empty. He spared a minute to licking up the mess from the both of your arousal between your thighs before he turned you over, lying you flat and chucking his phone aside. He guided himself back into you and gripped your hips hard as he thrusted in.

He kept his lips close to you, brushing your lips against yours, taking your tongue as his.

“Thought of you every day,” he said, nose nudging yours. “I missed you so much.”

“I-I missed you too,” you moaned, holding his shoulders.

Your walls clamped around him.

“Arg, baby-baby-baby,” he babbled, lying his mouth flat open on yours, his tongue tasting yours and swapping spit.

A hand trailed between your bodies and ran over your clit.

“S'too-too much,” you cried.

“No it's not.”

“I can't, I can't,” you moaned, your walls tighter around him. “I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come-”

Robby bit down on the sweet spot around your ear and you released around him, back arching into him and leaving him moaning into your neck. “There we go, there we go- squeeze me, squeeze me!”

In one powerful thrust you felt his release shooting up your walls, painting you in him. His body sagged with stuttering thrusts as he spent himself.

Only once the both of you had calmed down did you catch your breath, sweaty skin on sweaty skin and lips swollen and red, bruises littering your neck.

Still inside of you, Robby reaches over and tilts your head back, the two of you grinning like love sick idiots.

“Smile for the camera, baby.”