Desperate to Touch

“I can get you off with anything,” I tell her and I’m cocky, arrogant… and I feel like a damn king. Her king, her ruler, her everything.

I don’t stop until she cums. The first time, she doesn’t break the rules. She holds on to the cushion like a good submissive when I fuck her to orgasm with the bottle. The second time, she screams out my name, her hands on her face, covering her mouth and she cums hard and fast. I’m relentless though. I never stop fucking her, slow and steady with the neck of the bottle, only picking up my pace when I know she’s close to falling again. The third time, her back bows and tears fall from the corners of her eyes as her body rocks and her toes curl. She grabs my arm then, desperate to hold on to anything while she’s falling.

Thank fuck she grabs me. Thank God she breaks the rules right then and there.

I barely have any control left and I need to touch her. I need to be inside of her, falling with her.

Laura

Three days in a row with twelve-hour shifts isn’t that difficult. It’s not my first time and it sure as hell won’t be my last. So that doesn’t explain why I feel so utterly and completely drained. Bethany called out, something about her sister. I asked if everything was all right but she couldn’t say.

The shift is harder today since I’m picking up some of her workload. The temporary hire to cover Bethany being out for so long, is a bitch who doesn’t know how to do a damn thing. So I’m basically pulling the weight of two people today. Why? Because I care about Bethany’s patients, unlike Cindy Lou Who-gives-a-fuck and who even knows where she is right now.

Looking to my left, toward the nurses’ station where Cindy better be performing the checklist so we can leave on time, the hall is empty as I quietly shut E.J.’s door.

I rest my head against the wall and just breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out. That’s all I have to do.

My grandma used to say, “You don’t have to do a damn thing. Just breathe. And pay taxes. Even if you’re dead they’ll get those taxes.”

The memory of her in the chair in the corner of the living room, pointing her finger at me while she said it makes me smile and it’s the first time I’ve smiled all shift. Damn does it make me miss her though.

I never realized how alone I truly am until recently. No family at all. I only have one friend here, really. Bethany. I’m chummy with Mel and Aiden, but they don’t know me like Bethany does. Now she’s busy, off with Jase.

I have Seth now. Only Seth.

Fuck, I don’t like that. I don’t like having to rely on him. Especially since all we’re doing is fucking. I’m not blind to the fact that when we do talk to one another, it’s like walking on eggshells. I don’t like it. I don’t know how to change it though.

Maybe with time.

Breathing out, just breathe, I stare down at the tray in my hand and the last cup of pills. Three colorful ones for Melody.

Maybe some people are just loners. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Besides, I have my patients and there aren’t a lot of people who get that.

I shake out my shoulders, feeling stiff from not sleeping well and bending over the tray all day. It was my turn to do the pill sorting, well, Bethany’s, but I didn’t trust Cindy to take on that task.

Before I can take a step forward, across the hall to Melody, I hear a bang behind me. At least I think I do. The noise wraps itself around my gut, squeezing. Something’s wrong.

I drop the tray like a fool, turning as fast as I can to get to E.J.

There’s nothing wrong with her, though. Not a damn thing is out of place. I swear I heard a bang, like something heavy had dropped.

E.J.’s in the same position she always is, on her side, her knees bent, her hands under her head. I washed her hair today though, marveling at how soft and silky it was. She struggled to tell me months ago, before it happened—although she didn’t say what “it” was—she’d gotten a treatment on her hair.

There’s no doubt in my mind she’s from money. Big money, given the strings they’ve pulled.

“Are you all right?” I ask E.J. when her heavy eyes open and she stares back at me. Her slow reactions are partly from the medication to help her sleep without dreams, and partly from her crippling depression.

She nods her head slowly and just like in the shower today, she places her slender fingers at her throat and I know that means she wants to talk.