Kissing My Dad's Friend - Page 14

I want to make him lose his mind the way he made me lose control in that stairwell, crying out loud even though I knew it was the worst possible thing to do in that spot at that moment. I would give anything for the chance to see Russ lose control that way, too.

Hell, I want to taste his cock. To trace my tongue along the edges, to lick the hard thick vein and trail the flat of my tongue along the tip…

But we can’t do that again. We can’t do anything, ever again.

Russ might not have seemed worried yesterday, about the possibility of my dad firing him, but maybe Russ just doesn’t know how overprotective and controlling my dad really is. They’ve been friends for years, but friends are different than daughters. I can’t imagine Russ has really thought through the consequences: how he could lose his job, his position, his seniority, everything. I know how much working at this hospital means to Russ. Because after all, like he told me yesterday, he’s turned down dozens of other job offers over the years, to go and work for competing hospitals. Russ never has, because he loves it here. And he loves my dad, too.

Much as I want to piss off my dad right now—and believe me, that’s a lot—I can’t do it at the risk of Russ’s life and happiness. I don’t want to get him fired.

And I have no idea what Dad would do to me, either. I’m not too worried about him firing me, because hell, I never wanted to work at this crappy job in the first place, tied tight on his leash. But I wouldn’t put it past my father to try and get me blacklisted at other jobs in the area. I wouldn’t put it past him to call Doctors without Borders to tell them that I’m a bad nurse and he fired me for sucking at my job. If he thought it would keep me stuck here in the city, under his thumb, he’d do that in a heartbeat.

So, no. I want to anger him, but I don’t want to go totally nuclear. Which means, no more Russ.

Even if it was the hottest sex I’ve ever had in my life. Even if my whole body goes tense and trembly with anticipation just from pulling up to the hospital doors the next day.

Dad, who has been driving me to work this morning, the same as every other morning, glances over at me and notices my tense body, my clenched fists. “I know you’re still angry,” he says, softly. “But someday you’ll understand why I do this. You’ll come to realize that sometimes you have to play the game, if you want to get ahead. Now.” He nods toward my side of the car. “You have your patients for the day.”

All three of them, the same three I was downgraded to babysitting yesterday. But I play along, because better Dad think this is what’s preoccupying me than guess what I’m really thinking about. “I still think it’s unfair,” I say as I unbuckle my seatbelt and shove out of the car door. “Both to the other patients and to the other nurses you’ve given way too big a workload to handle.”

Not to mention, it makes the other nurses on my team resent me. I heard whispers yesterday in the changing room as I was heading out at the end of my shift. Lionel telling another nurse that my father was giving me preferential treatment; assigning me as few patients as possible, so I wouldn’t have to work very hard.

If only he knew the truth. If only I could explain that I’d trade places with any of them in a heartbeat.

“And as I’ve explained before, it’s not your call,” Dad replies evenly, but I’m already slamming the car door in his face and storming toward the hospital entrance. I don’t wait for his valet to come and claim the car keys from him, or for his assistant to come read through the daily drama he needs to deal with.

I just beeline straight through the winding corridors toward my assigned locker, where I’ll be able to drop my stuff off, pick up some coffee, and get to work.

But at the entrance to my wing, I stop dead, my limbs ceasing to propel me forward. Because leaning against the wall of the locker area, completely out of place up here in the pediatric wing of the hospital, is Russ, dressed in his green surgeon’s scrubs. He has two coffees in hand, and he’s grinning like I’m the person he wanted to see most of all in the world right now.

My cheeks flush as I reach his side, and he holds out a coffee, his eyes grazing over my body boldly. “You look great today,” he says, soft enough that hopefully none of the other nurses at the nearby station, about fifteen feet away, can overhear him.

Tags: Penny Wylder Romance
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