⊹ ⊹

You drive in straight after work on Thursday, and show up at the house when it’s full dark out and you let yourself in. The light to your mom and Robby’s room is still on, but you slip into your own room and frown when you look in your dresser drawer for pajamas

The sweater from sports in high school, the holiday pj pants your mom had gotten you in college as a joke– all gone. You shrug and just strip down to your underwear and call that a tomorrow problem so you can just knock the fuck out after a long day.

In the morning, the closet is bare, too– the t-shirts you’d accumulated in college for random clubs and the knee-length cargo shorts you’d gotten from goodwill have disappeared. All that’s left is the daisy dukes that show your whole ass that your mother hates and lacy bras that are a size too small and the ribbed tank tops that cling to every curve.

You get dressed in that anyways and head downstairs, lured by the scent of pancakes. You pout when you go downstairs to find Robby in the kitchen in a bathrobe. He at least looks comfy.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” He asks when he glances over his shoulder and sees your face.

“Most of my clothes are gone.”

He looks up like he’s thinking hard. “I think your mom might have cleaned some out to donate? Sorry, I should have double checked.”

He watches you carefully as you move around the house that morning– bending down to refill the dog’s water dish, which gives him a straight view of your cleavage in that top– and then again to to pick up his bone to throw it, which shows your ass cheeks that are practically hanging out of the ripped denim.

He curses under his breath when he gets the call that he has to go in– not surprising, given the holiday, but still– and you offer him a hug when he comes out of his room dressed in scrubs.

“Thanks, sweetie,” he says, and wraps his arms around you tighter than he ought to for just a polite good-bye. Honestly, you might have just forgotten that your mother isn’t here and that you’re not obligated to do this, but he’ll take it.

You’re asleep– in your underwear again, since it’s not like the skimpy shorts will do much of anything– by the time he gets home. Your door is cracked open so that the dog can come in and out if he wants, and he figures that it won’t do any harm the push the door open just a little further to get a glimpse of you in the sliver of light from the hallway.

Robby doesn’t see your eyes open just a little, he’s too wrapped up in looking at the rest of you and trying not to groan aloud.

⊹ ⊹

The next day you’re up first, and you return the favor of cooking, so you turn and smile at him when he comes in bleary-eyed in his robe again. 

“Good shift?” You ask, and pretend not to notice how his eyes sweep down you and realize that today you’d forgone the too-tight bra. You’d skipped any bra. In the cropped, undersized concert t-shirt he can see your nipples right through the fabric.

He nods, not trusting his voice for a second. “Slammed, but fine enough. I’m on call again, though. Sorry if I’m not very exciting company.”

You turn back to the eggs you were cooking. “I was here to relax, really. And nobody else in town is here, so I’m getting plenty of that done.”

After breakfast, he offers to clean up so you’re about to head out to the couch to read a book with the dog curled on your lap, but you turn back to say one last thing.

“I’m glad I came,” you tell him. “You’re still good company.”

Honestly, it’s the most time the two of you have ever spent alone, so he just watches you walk off without really knowing how to answer you. At least it’s a nice view, your shorts riding up again.

He doesn’t have to go to work, thankfully, so you have a quiet day together in a way that drives him mad. It’s a hell of his own making, but he wonders if he made the right choice when it seems like you are actively showing off. 

The two of you pick a movie to watch, and then you keep getting up, shuffling past him between the couch and the coffee table so that you don’t bother the dog where he’s sleeping on the other side.

You wince when the movie is over, and say that you must have slept wrong, and you ask if he knows how to make a muscle chill out. Robby tries to say massage calmly, nonchalantly, but you then sit closer to him and turn your back so that he can help you out.

When that’s done, and you sigh like a giant weight is off your chest, he shoves himself to his feet and heads off to his room.

That night, he thinks it’s over, and he vows to put your clothes back once you’re gone and not try this again, when you knock on his door.

“Come in,” he calls.

You walk in wearing an oversized t-shirt from your college– one that he knows he hadn’t left for you, and not something you could have just bought when you’d left for a little while in the afternoon.

“I’ll be heading out in the morning,” you say, and wait to see if he’ll say anything. You could have been wearing this the whole time, and he’s definitely figuring that out. 

He nods. “Drive safe, then.”

You pout again and step into the room. “Not gonna call my outfit pretty? You really ought to learn how to flirt.” Even with both of your outfits, he’d never commented on them. It had driven you up the wall, that he would stare but wouldn’t say anything.

If he wasn’t going to make a move, then you will.

“I… thought you didn’t bring anything.”

“No, you said I shouldn’t. But I packed. I just saw your game and you know what?” You walk closer to him, and it’s a victory that he takes off his readers and sets his book aside as you do. That you’re so mesmerizing that he is going to watch you now, especially since you’re practically giving him permission.

“What, kiddo?” Robby asks. Doesn’t even deny that he’d been playing some game.

⊹ ⊹

You drive in straight after work on Thursday, and show up at the house when it’s full dark out and you let yourself in. The light to your mom and Robby’s room is still on, but you slip into your own room and frown when you look in your dresser drawer for pajamas

The sweater from sports in high school, the holiday pj pants your mom had gotten you in college as a joke– all gone. You shrug and just strip down to your underwear and call that a tomorrow problem so you can just knock the fuck out after a long day.

In the morning, the closet is bare, too– the t-shirts you’d accumulated in college for random clubs and the knee-length cargo shorts you’d gotten from goodwill have disappeared. All that’s left is the daisy dukes that show your whole ass that your mother hates and lacy bras that are a size too small and the ribbed tank tops that cling to every curve.

You get dressed in that anyways and head downstairs, lured by the scent of pancakes. You pout when you go downstairs to find Robby in the kitchen in a bathrobe. He at least looks comfy.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” He asks when he glances over his shoulder and sees your face.

“Most of my clothes are gone.”

He looks up like he’s thinking hard. “I think your mom might have cleaned some out to donate? Sorry, I should have double checked.”

He watches you carefully as you move around the house that morning– bending down to refill the dog’s water dish, which gives him a straight view of your cleavage in that top– and then again to to pick up his bone to throw it, which shows your ass cheeks that are practically hanging out of the ripped denim.

He curses under his breath when he gets the call that he has to go in– not surprising, given the holiday, but still– and you offer him a hug when he comes out of his room dressed in scrubs.

“Thanks, sweetie,” he says, and wraps his arms around you tighter than he ought to for just a polite good-bye. Honestly, you might have just forgotten that your mother isn’t here and that you’re not obligated to do this, but he’ll take it.

You’re asleep– in your underwear again, since it’s not like the skimpy shorts will do much of anything– by the time he gets home. Your door is cracked open so that the dog can come in and out if he wants, and he figures that it won’t do any harm the push the door open just a little further to get a glimpse of you in the sliver of light from the hallway.

Robby doesn’t see your eyes open just a little, he’s too wrapped up in looking at the rest of you and trying not to groan aloud.

⊹ ⊹

The next day you’re up first, and you return the favor of cooking, so you turn and smile at him when he comes in bleary-eyed in his robe again. 

“Good shift?” You ask, and pretend not to notice how his eyes sweep down you and realize that today you’d forgone the too-tight bra. You’d skipped any bra. In the cropped, undersized concert t-shirt he can see your nipples right through the fabric.

He nods, not trusting his voice for a second. “Slammed, but fine enough. I’m on call again, though. Sorry if I’m not very exciting company.”

You turn back to the eggs you were cooking. “I was here to relax, really. And nobody else in town is here, so I’m getting plenty of that done.”

After breakfast, he offers to clean up so you’re about to head out to the couch to read a book with the dog curled on your lap, but you turn back to say one last thing.

“I’m glad I came,” you tell him. “You’re still good company.”

Honestly, it’s the most time the two of you have ever spent alone, so he just watches you walk off without really knowing how to answer you. At least it’s a nice view, your shorts riding up again.

He doesn’t have to go to work, thankfully, so you have a quiet day together in a way that drives him mad. It’s a hell of his own making, but he wonders if he made the right choice when it seems like you are actively showing off. 

The two of you pick a movie to watch, and then you keep getting up, shuffling past him between the couch and the coffee table so that you don’t bother the dog where he’s sleeping on the other side.

You wince when the movie is over, and say that you must have slept wrong, and you ask if he knows how to make a muscle chill out. Robby tries to say massage calmly, nonchalantly, but you then sit closer to him and turn your back so that he can help you out.

When that’s done, and you sigh like a giant weight is off your chest, he shoves himself to his feet and heads off to his room.

That night, he thinks it’s over, and he vows to put your clothes back once you’re gone and not try this again, when you knock on his door.

“Come in,” he calls.

You walk in wearing an oversized t-shirt from your college– one that he knows he hadn’t left for you, and not something you could have just bought when you’d left for a little while in the afternoon.

“I’ll be heading out in the morning,” you say, and wait to see if he’ll say anything. You could have been wearing this the whole time, and he’s definitely figuring that out. 

He nods. “Drive safe, then.”

You pout again and step into the room. “Not gonna call my outfit pretty? You really ought to learn how to flirt.” Even with both of your outfits, he’d never commented on them. It had driven you up the wall, that he would stare but wouldn’t say anything.

If he wasn’t going to make a move, then you will.

“I… thought you didn’t bring anything.”

“No, you said I shouldn’t. But I packed. I just saw your game and you know what?” You walk closer to him, and it’s a victory that he takes off his readers and sets his book aside as you do. That you’re so mesmerizing that he is going to watch you now, especially since you’re practically giving him permission.

“What, kiddo?” Robby asks. Doesn’t even deny that he’d been playing some game.

The bar was moderately packed, but almost too loud. After the Pitt officially raised its patient satisfaction rating, the residents and nurses quickly planned an outing. It was his day off, so Robby had called him in to celebrate after making him promise that he had invited other people who were off that day. Robby didn’t need to be told ‌who he was really hoping would show up.

Inevitably, the senior residents and attending doctors let the interns and newer residents have their fun. What Jack didn’t expect was how jarring it would be to see you in street clothes, dolled up for a night out. Everyone had agreed to dress a little better since the bar was new and still had that new-bar smell. It had all the trappings of an Irish pub, but with more TVs and a chalkboard with that month's IPAs and other hipster drinks.

“I’m going to hell,” Jack mumbled before throwing back the rest of his drink. You’d gone to the bar for another round. His eyes were on you every step of the way, tracing your curves and wondering how it would feel to bury his hand in your hair.

“You’re gonna start drooling in a second,” Robby smirked at his friend. 

Jack raised a brow, “How’s Heather been? Talked with her since she went back home?”

The bearded attending physician raised his hands, “I know. I’m one to talk. But she’s a lot closer to the others than Heather was with anyone when she was still here. Plus, I know you. You can be kind of intense.”

“Intense?” 

“I’m not saying she won’t be able to deal with that. I’ve seen her stand up to you during a patient eval. She’s just as intense as you are. Heather and I were messy when deeper feelings weren’t even involved.” He sighed, sipping ‌his beer. 

“Who said anything about deeper feelings?” Jack scoffed. His eyes were on you again as you maneuvered around the tables with a few more beers in hand. You met his eyes and smiled at him. 

“You don’t half-ass things, Jack. You’re a bomb ready to go off, and she’s a blaze. I’d be skeptical that either of you will come out of this unscathed.” Robby said thoughtfully.

“Your faith in her and me leaves something to be desired, Robby. We’re both adults. She’s technically still day shift, even though she consistently covers nights when she can. Let me ogle in peace.” Jack rolled his eyes and ended the conversation as you reached the table again. 

Aside from a few meaningful glances over the next couple of hours, Robby kept his mouth shut. Not that Jack noticed. You and he had been debating various medical journals and research studies animatedly as if you were in a little bubble of your own. It was the longest the two of you had carried on since you’d joined the PTMC nearly a year ago. Robby just sighed and wished you and Jack a good night before he left. 

===========

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride home. I can’t let you take an Uber. It’s 2 am,” Jack insisted as you exited the bar together. 

“I am perfectly capable of getting home on my own, Abbot.” You scoffed, already pulling your phone out, and flicked open the app. 

Jack’s large hand wrapped around your screen, swiftly lifting it out of your reach. You gripped his arm, jumping to reach, but you were still too short. Jack laughed, catching your waist as you fell into him. He tried not to think too hard about how good your body felt against his.

“Give it back!”

“Let me take you home, sweetheart,” he said, looking down at you, not realizing he had pulled you in close. Suddenly, his face blanched, and he took a step back. “Shit! I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I just meant I can take you–in my truck–to your place.”

You paused, letting the moment sit while his ears grew more pink. You shrugged a shoulder. “Pity. Oh well, come on then.” 

Jack’s mind short-circuited. By the time he was moving again, you’d crossed the parking lot to his truck in the far corner. You disappeared around the passenger's side, against the side of the building. He jogged after you, rounding the corner of the truck to find you leaning against the passenger door in the shadow of the wall. 

He glanced once over his shoulder. They were some of the last ones in the group to leave the bar, and he’d parked so far out that no one would bother them. 

“What did you mean by that?” He asked cautiously. 

“You know what I meant,” you said with a smirk on your lips. 

Jack took a step forward. “You want me to take you home?”

You took a step toward him. “Yes. Your home.” 

The last part was a tease. He knew that. That didn’t stop him from finally stepping into your personal space, his intense gaze meeting your amused eyes. “No one can know.” 

“I can be discreet. But the risk is part of the fun, isn’t it, sir?” The smile that spread across your face held so many filthy promises that Jack let out a groan before wrapping a hand around the back of your neck. Your lips crashed together, slotting against each other so perfectly that, rather than sinking into it, you dove in deep. Looping your arms around his shoulders, you pressed up close to him, thrusting your tongue into his mouth. He tasted of the whiskey he’d been drinking. 

Jack pinned you between himself and the truck. With you securely pressed between his firm body and the car, his hands roamed. Down to the hem of your skirt, skimming the warm skin of your thigh. Up to the curve of your chest and the hard contour of a wire bra. Finally breaking for air, you looked at each other, breathing the same air, so close you could see his eyes dilate as you pressed your hips to his. He was hard against your hip. 

You dragged your hands down from his shoulders to his stomach. The cotton of his shirt did nothing to minimize the tantalizing scratch of your nails across his pecs. He hissed before burying his hand in your hair, tilting your head, and trailing kisses from your shoulder up to your jaw, sucking and nipping. Every soft moan and whimper that came out of your mouth made his cock twitch.

“You always smell so fucking good.” He groaned into your ear.

“Don’t think I’ve never noticed you stopping to smell my hair, Doctor Abbot.” You teased breathily. “I even know which of my perfumes you like ‌best.” 

You pulled him away from your neck, thumbing his lip as he lifted one of your legs over his hip. Slotted between your legs, he pressed himself tight to your core as you whispered, “I wore it tonight. Even put it on my ankles.” 

That comment made him groan and lift your other leg around his hip, locking him in place. Your skirt was pushed up to your waist as he captured your lips between his again. His teeth grazed and tugged at your bottom lip, eliciting an obscene moan that made him smile. The tease of his tongue against yours gave you ideas of what it would feel like between your legs. Your thighs squeezed around him as arousal burned in your core.

“Ankles. You had plans tonight, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jack was breathy, barely restraining himself from taking you right there.

“You know me, Jack. I live to plan ahead.” You pushed him back slightly. His hair was a mess, and his lips were pink from your kisses. 

“Oh, it’s Jack now? I was starting to like you calling me ‘sir’ while you’re grinding against my cock like the good girl I know you are.” He hoped the obvious authority kink you had would make you flustered. But you bit your lip, looking like the cat that ate the canary. 

“Focus on that for a little bit, Jack. If you’d come in wearing jeans, then I would have been so disappointed. I did this for you, after all.” You spoke calmly as you braced your hands on his shoulders, leaned against the truck, and dragged your core against the bulge in his dark chinos. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. He looked down to see the growing damp spot on the front of his pants. More soaked than damp, actually. Realization bloomed on his face as he lifted the edge of your skirt that managed to cover you. “Jesus fuck–” 

Your bare cunt was dragging against his pants, glistening and plush. You were wearing underwear, and he ‌felt it when he grabbed your ass while lifting you up. But the gusset of your black lace panties was stitched open in the center. 

“Oh, you want my cock so badly you made it easier for me to give it to you?” Jack chuckled in disbelief. To your surprise, he let you down to the ground and guided you to the passenger door. 

“What–Jack–” you protested. He guided you with a firm hand and opened the door. Without asking, he took you by your hips and lifted you into the truck, legs dangling over the side of the seat rather than tucked forward. 

“You have a choice to make,” Jack’s voice was like gravel; a starved and desperate look in his eyes. “You can wait until we get to my place to sit on my face until you cum, or you can spread your legs right here and let me get my first taste now.”

“First?” 

“It definitely won’t be the last. So, my place or right here, right now?” You were surprised at the proposal, but, as he expected, you gave him the answer he wanted. 

“Now, then, your place.” You pushed your legs wide and thanked whatever had possessed Jack to park his truck against a wall. 

“Atta girl.” His eager smile was devastating as he gripped your hips and pulled you to the edge of the seat. The first swipe of his tongue had you gripping the handle above your head as you threw your head back. 

“You’re so fucking wet and sweet for me. I’ve been wanting to get under this skirt all night.” He groaned against your pussy as he dragged his tongue up and down. His nose gliding across your wet curls as he sucked at your clit. 

“Oh, my God!” You muffled your cries with your free hand. 

Large hands gripped your ass, cupping you into an angle that let him delve his tongue into your entrance, the wet sounds loud and obscene as he devoured you. Jack held your hips down as you ground against his tongue. He knew he couldn’t prolong this. There was a large and soft bed waiting for him to fuck you into. 

You bit your fist when he pushed two fingers into your eager pussy, curving them in perfectly. It only took three thrusts for him to find the spot that made you gasp and see stars. You gripped his greying curls, meeting his gaze as he pumped his thick fingers in and out while flicking his tongue across your swollen clit. The satisfaction and heat in his eyes seemed to grow stronger as you whimpered pathetically under his touch. 

When your thighs began to tremble, Jack smiled, lapping at you eagerly as he pushed a third finger into you. You press your face against your forearm to muffle your obscene cries when your orgasm rips through you. 

Your cunt was tight around his fingers as he pushed them in and out. The suction dragged against his knuckles, hurtling his mind to imagine that feeling on his cock. The vibration of his moan around your clit had you crying out. “Fuck, it's too much. Oh god!”

He pulled his face away and slid his fingers out, only to rapidly swipe them across your overstimulated clit and folds. “That’s it, baby. Make a mess for me.” 

Jack knew he was wearing his ‘smug bastard’ face while watching you lose yourself under his touch. The surprise in your eyes and the silent ‘oh’ on your face had him kissing you deeply. Your taste on his tongue and lips as the wet sound intensified. You gushed as Jack roughly rubbed your pussy until he finally pulled his hand away. 

His satisfied chuckle was deep and amused as he pulled back. You both looked down to find his hand dripping and the telltale splash of you having squirted. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Your face was feverish with mortification, but Jack kissed it away. 

“No apologies for following directions, baby.” 

Without pause, he was pulling open his passenger door and cleaning you up with some wet wipes and a clean towel from his gym bag. When you were sitting demurely in the passenger seat as Jack started the truck, you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. The car didn’t move. 

“Hey, look at me,” Jack whispered. 

You lifted your head, and he could see your uncertainty. His hand was so much bigger than yours when he reached over and took it. “Your choice. I can take you to your place, or we can go to mine. No pressure. I’m happy you let me have all of that earlier. I won’t push you.”

He still wanted you to feel comfortable. Even when he hadn’t cum. You breathed slowly, then smiled at him. 

“You tired old man?” 

“I should be asking you that, young lady.” He finally backed out of the parking lot. 

“I don’t know if your stamina is up to it, Doctor Abbott.” You teased. 

“Is that a challenge?”

“Take me home and find out.”

He let out a loud laugh and shook his head. His hand was still clasping yours. He exuded self-confidence when he asked, “You ever cum five times in a row before?”

Your eyes widened. 

“Before you say it. It’s possible. Always possible.” 

=========

Rather than stumbling into his house and directly into his bedroom like you expected, he led you inside by the hand and offered you something to drink. Maybe you’d hooked up with too many ‘modern men’, but this change of pace was nice. Humanizing, even.

He asked you about your day and how your last year of residency was going as you sipped red wine. You slipped off your shoes and left them next to his bar top. You padded around his living room, asking him questions about pictures on the walls and books on shelves. You stopped in front of a family picture from when he graduated from medical school. 

You felt him walk up behind you, looking at the picture over your shoulder. His voice was low. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me.” You leaned back into him as he wrapped a muscular arm around your waist. 

“You telling me what to do, resident?” He nipped at your ear. 

“Isn’t that your job, attending?” You teased back. He guided his nearly empty glass to your lips and gently urged you to finish it for him. There was something incredibly decadent about having this man wrapped around you, kissing your neck, and pouring excellent wine past your lips that made this feel surreal. 

“Jack,” you breathed out his name softly. He abandoned the wineglass on the shelf.

“We can stop here,” he breathed, pulling away enough for you to turn around. 

“What? Why?” You asked, turning in surprise. Your hands lay flat on his chest as you looked up at him.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’m one of your attending physicians. I’m quite a bit older than you, if you didn’t notice from my med school graduation year. I slowed down to give you a choice. I let myself get carried away earlier, and you deserve more than some parking lot hook-up.”

“Are you really giving me the ‘age gap’ talk right now? I would have gladly let you do whatever you wanted to me back there, and I was fully expecting to do a lot more once we got here. We’re adults, Jack. I’m not going to turn around and accuse you of quid pro quo. I’m sure everyone in the ED already knows that I’ve been dreaming about a host of inappropriate things I’d like to do to you.” You explained quickly. It was sweet that he was worried about influencing your choices. 

The mild tension in his shoulders slackened as you slid your hands up and hooked your arms around his neck. His hands found your hips and teased the skin right where your blouse pulled up. “Forgive an old man for not wanting to seem like a complete lech.”

You smacked his arm, “Quit it with that ‘old man’ talk. You’re a silver fox, and you know it. Now are you going to school me on those 5 orgasms or am I going to have to find a new hookup at 3 in the morning?”

Jack growled possessively, “This is the thanks I get for being a gentleman.”

“Maybe I never wanted you to be gentle with me.” You said, stealing a kiss. But Jack cupped the back of your head, meeting your lips again. His mouth was hot on yours as he backed you up against the bookcase. “Someone likes to pin a girl down.”

A wicked smile lit up his face before he dipped his head and kissed and licked ‌your collar. “I can’t have you slipping away when we have so much fun still planned.”

“Oh, I would love to see if any of my fantasies line up with yours.” You let your head fall back as Jack pressed his lips to your neck, sucking a mark into your skin. “Fuck, Jack. At least do it somewhere I can cover easily.”

 “So as long as you can cover it up,” he pulled his head back, his voice coming out in a gravely hum, “I can leave as many marks as I want?” 

You moaned softly in reply. He pinned your wrists above you with one hand and found the hem of your shirt with another. A whimper slipped from your lips when you felt his hot palm on your stomach, gliding upward and taking the shirt with it. Jack dropped your wrists so he could help you pull the blouse over your head, then let it fall to the floor. 

You arched into him as one of his hands found the top of your skirt and skimmed the edge of it. Your blunt nails scratched trails up his shoulders and into the curls at the nape of his neck. His name fell from your lips in a breathy sigh when he slipped his hand into your skirt and gripped a palmful of your ass. 

“You are so fucking soft,” he was breathless as he nuzzled your cheek. The movement felt adorably innocent in contrast with his other hand unhooking your bra. Jack pulled back to give himself room to admire your bare torso. Nimble hands unzipped your skirt, leaving it to fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Seeing you bare except for the scrap of lace he knew didn’t cover you up completely made his desperation to sink into your body even more apparent. “You are a piece of art.”

His reverent tone, paired with the admiration in his eyes, made your cheeks heat up. No man had ever looked at you like this before. You reached for his belt loop and pulled him close again. It was your turn to suck at his lip and pull the sexiest sounds from his lips while your hands delved into his shirt and helped him pull it over his head. 

You’d always known Jack was fit. But seeing his brawny chest bare before you was too tempting. You were less tentative than he was. Nipping and leaving your own marks on his collar and chest had him burying his hands in your hair, cradling you, but not directing. He was letting you have control, at least for now. 

“Jesus,” Jack groaned as your hand wrapped around his length. You’d flicked his belt open and shoved your hand inside without warning. 

“Do you get this hard when it’s your hand wrapped around you?” 

A laugh like a bark burst from him. “Only when I’m thinking of you, sweetheart.”

His pre-cum painted your palm as you pumped your fist around his ample girth and modest length. You flicked your thumb over his frenulum and felt his hand tighten in your hair as a response. 

“Come here,” he groaned as he guided your lips back to his. If possible, your kisses grew more passionate. More consuming. He tried to slip his hand between your thighs when you wrapped a small hand around his neck and pushed him back. Your other hand reached further down, cupping his balls. 

“You’ve still got too many clothes on, Doctor.” You bit your lip as you made eye contact. In the room's dimness, his hazel eyes darkened to melted chocolate. The intensity of the shared eye contact grew as you trailed your hand down his body, and you dropped to your knees. Together, you pushed his pants down. His prosthetic didn’t bother you. You’d seen it before. It did remind you that a bed would be a much better location for what you had planned. 

Jack’s brow furrowed when you stood, but eased when you took his hand. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before asking, “Bedroom?”

“Oh, um, down the hall. Last one on the right,” Jack had barely finished speaking when you started to drag him down the hall. He let you pull him along and then shoved him onto the bed, his legs dangling over the edge. 

“You can take it off,” you urged him gently. You’d walked in on him in the break room once, taking his prosthetic off to change the sock underneath. You knelt before him and pressed a kiss to the side of his knee. “I promise I’ll still be just as wet and ready to suck on your cock when you’re done.”

Your brazen words had him chuckling, while his flagging cock surged to fullness again. Your eyes were attentive as he went through the process of removing his prosthetic. Jack couldn’t help but feel a blush rise on his cheeks as your eager eyes still showed off how much you wanted him. You’d stayed on the floor with your hand on his other thigh, with your eyes flitting from his leg to his cock and then back up to his face. Jack set his leg aside, next to his side table. Your hand was on his cock before he was fully seated. 

“You’re unbearably attractive, you know that, right?” Your wide eyes showed only sincerity. Jack sank into the exquisite feel of your hands on him and your lips pressing kisses up his thighs. You nudge him to sit wider than you finally lick a line up his hard shaft, swirling it around the tip. 

“Christ,” Jack moaned. “You can’t say shit like that and then take me so we-”

You bobbed your head forward and felt his cock slam into the back of your throat. You constricted your throat at the pull upward, then shoved your face down again. The strangled grunt of your name had your core flooding with need. Jack’s hands found your hair and held you still when you pulled up again.

“Fuck, baby. You can’t do that to a man out of nowhere,” Jack groaned, his cock glistening with your saliva and a drop of pre-cum welling at the tip. You tried to take him again, but his hold was firm. “Ah ah ah, if I let you keep that up, then I’ll be done for. So you be a good girl for me and get on the bed and spread your legs.” 

His fingers glided through your mussed hair as you stood up. You pouted, then mumbled, “Yes, sir.” 

That made him take your chin and pull you in for a quick, passionate kiss. Which was closely followed by a playful spank to your ass as you climbed onto the bed, sprawled out, and let your knees fall wide. 

You admired Jack’s strong arms as he moved towards you. His muscles rippled and flexed. You wondered, for a moment, if he’d be interested in wrapping his hand around your throat, but you’d save that for a later date. Basking in his attention, you focused on his lips, trailing paths of fire up your body. He held your legs wide, gliding his fingers through the mess between your legs as his lips met yours. 

Now that you were completely under his mercy, Jack teased you. He let you get lost in his passionate kiss, while his fingers drew lazy circles and stripes around your pussy. 

“Please, Jack,” you begged as he teased your slit with the tips of two fingers. 

“Please, what, sweetheart?” He breathed against your lips, “Tell me what you want.” 

“M-more, please, I need more!” You rocked your hips against his hand and pulled at his waist. “Please, Jack, sir. I want you.” 

Your faces were close as he spoke to you, intense eyes boring into your soul, keeping your attention as he pressed two fingers into your wet heat. He whispered in a low tone, just for you, “You want my fingers inside you, baby. You’re so wet for me. You’re always such a good girl at work. Always following directions and being a good example for all the other residents. I should have been a good attending and left you alone.”

Jack’s words ran through your mind as his fingers worked your pussy. His strong fingers angle up, putting pressure on your G-spot. You were already on the precipice, thighs shaking and hips rolling. 

“Instead, here I am. Ready to make you cum for the second time tonight. Isn’t that right, resident?” A part of you hated the confidence he had in your authority kink. 

“Yes, sir. I’ll be good.” You clenched around his fingers. 

“Alright, sweetheart. Cum for your attending. Do as I say,” the rasp in his voice and the command in his tone sent you over the edge. Jack was relentless with the movement of his fingers, grinding the palm of his hand across your clit with each stroke. You clutched ‌his forearm. Your vision went white as you curled and arched with each wave of pleasure. 

“Oh, fuck, Jack, it’s too much!” The broken whine that slipped from your mouth was shushed affectionately as Jack finally pulled his hand away from between your legs. 

Your curled toes and grasping hands relaxed as you melted into the bed like a blob of pleasurable glue. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” Jack chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. The easy affection of it made your heart clench. 

“Yes, sir,” came out as a long his that was cut off by a manic giggle. 

“What’s so funny?” Jack asked as he reached for something in his bedside drawer. The foil of the condom caught the light right before he tore it open with his teeth, knelt on his good leg, and rolled it on. 

“Trini was right,” you giggled as Jack joined you again, slotting himself on top of you and between your legs. His weight on you felt right as you rocked your hips to grind against his length.

“Right about what?” He mumbled out, his eyes closed in pleasure as his hard length rubbed up and down your slippery core. 

“That you’d clocked my authority kink and would use it against me,” you smiled and hooked your hands around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. 

“Mmm,” Jack sucked on your lip, then pulled back. “You and Santos talk about me?”

“More like I talk about you while she reluctantly listens.”

“And you talk about how I would act during sex?”

“Kind of, but in this instance, she said you’d use it against me to pull overtime and doubles when you needed help on the night shift. If you’d called me a ‘good girl’ even once in the ED and then asked me to pull 3 doubles in a single week, I probably would have said yes.” You admitted, between soft mewls of impatience at the feel of Jack rubbing his tip up and down your slit. 

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” The conversation was forgotten when Jack latched his mouth around your nipple. You arched up, feeling the warmth of his hand as he flicked and teased the other. 

“Please, Jack,” you whined and panted. 

“Be a good girl and tell me exactly what you want,” he growled against your skin. You tried to move your hips to catch him as his tip slipped across your core, but he held you down. “You can do it. Tell your attending what you need. I’ll give it to you. Promise.”

“Fuck me, sir,” you finally cried out. You clutched at his strong back as he finally slid his cock between your wet folds, the girth stretching you slightly. He was the thickest you’d ever had. You’d never felt so filled. 

“Oh fuck, oh you feel so good wrapped around me.” Jack lifted one of your legs and hooked it over his elbow, angling you wider so he could thrust deeper. “I can’t hold back. Pinch my side if it’s too much.”

He’d started slowly rocking into you. Pleasure exploded behind your eyelids at the realization that you’d dreamt of this. That you weren’t the only one who wanted this. His warm hand on your cheek pulled you back to the present. 

“You have to answer me, sweetheart. I’m 2 seconds from pounding you into this bed, as if I hate you. If it’s too much, you have to pinch my side.” When you nodded enthusiastically, a wide grin spread across his face. “Fuck you’re amazing.”

His lips met yours again, at the same time as he started to earnestly thrust into you, hard and deep. You held on as words failed you. The only sound in the room was the cacophony of your moans and grunts with the obscene slap of skin on skin. When he shifted back and gripped you by the crook of your thigh and hip, he hit a new angle that had you tearing at the sheets. He was relentless. When you thought it was almost too much, his thumb found your clit, and you were hurtling into another orgasm. 

“Yes, that’s it, baby. Cum on my cock. Fuck, I’ve wanted to see you like this forever,” Jack groaned as you gripped him so tightly he thought for a moment the condom had slipped off. His pace didn’t falter as he hovered over you again, pushing your knees up and out. 

“JACK!” you yelled. He swallows your cries and loses his rhythm as he fucks you through your orgasm and straight into his own. 

“Yes, yes, baby, take it,” he groaned against your lips. You let him drop his weight on you for a few moments after, while you caught your breath. Eventually, he became too heavy, and you shoved him off. Despite his whining and clinging, he still played the gracious host, pressed a kiss to your temple before he took one of his crutches and swiftly walked to the bathroom. 

By the time Jack came back, you’re barely awake. That doesn’t stop him from urging you to stand. “Baby, you have to go to the bathroom. It’s practically mandatory.”

“You’re not gonna give me a UTI,” you grumbled. 

“That’s not how that works, and you know it,” Jack admonished you. He stayed outside the bathroom, listening to you do your business, wash your hands, and walk back out. He handed you a shirt and some clean boxers to wear. Jack has a thin pair of pants on but remains bare-chested, to your delight. While you changed, you could feel his eyes on you. 

The air shifted. “Um, hey. I just realized I assumed you were staying the night. Which I have no problem with! I just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured just because we slept together.” 

Jack actually looked nervous. You close the distance and hook your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body against his. “I’d like to stay if you’ll have me.”

You couldn’t help but admire the smile lines and the crow's feet that appeared at his delight.