TOBY’S POV."Quiet, Nurse Toby," Wesley murmured against my ear, one broad palm clamped over my mouth. "Unless you want the whole third floor to hear what the doctor on the night shift is doing to you."I couldn't have answered even if I wanted to since he had me pinned against the wall of the on-call room, scrub trousers pooled around my ankles, my cheek pressed to the cold paint and my fingers splayed uselessly beside my face. Behind me, he was buried inside me as much as he could get, his hips rolling in slow, merciless drags that made my knees go soft. The room smelled of antiseptic and old coffee, with the faint burnt-plastic scent of the heater, and under it, sharper, the smell of him, soap and sweat and the cologne he swore he never wore on shift.Dr. Wesley Hale. One of the youngest doctors. And six foot two of controlled, lethal calmness, with black hair always combed back and gray eyes that made interns stammer. Everyone at St. Brendan's thought he was a cold man. Everyo
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-10-21 Mehr lesen