Broken Lion(7)By: Devon Hartford
I finally broke down and stole a glance at his cock. He wasn’t exaggerating. His python was wide awake and straining against his tight lycra shorts. I could see the shape of the head and the shaft through the fabric. When it pulsed, I almost lost my cool. Almost. There was a reason they called me Dr. Freeze in the ECU. I could deal with rude patients, gunshot wounds, and the chaos of trauma all day long. But this was different and that was one long python…
“You’re blushing, Ms. Flanagan.”
I was also staring. It was a fact that some snakes hypnotized their prey before going in for the kill. I tore my gaze away before his snake ate me. Or I ate it. If I hadn’t been hypnotized, I would’ve been embarrassed by my utter lack of professionalism. But it was the snake’s fault.
“You sure you can’t find me another doctor, Irish?”
“How did you know I was Irish?”
“Flanagan is Irish, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But don’t call me Irish.”
“Why not? Is it racist or something?”
“No, just don’t call me that.” Nicknaming me makes me sort of like you, so stop.
“Then tell me your name.” His dark eyes smoldered with the promise of forbidden pleasure, the kind of pleasure that took place in his torchlit caveman’s cage where I could scream out every orgasm he gave me without worrying about waking the neighbors.
I hadn’t had an orgasm with a man in ages. And never with a man this magnificent. Like I said earlier, I wasn’t a robot. I had my limits. Apparently, Lion was it. So I caved. I let down my guard and muttered:
“You don’t even know me, Mr. Maxwell.”
“But I will.” Again with that commanding voice. Low and dangerous and oh so delicious.
Latisha had been right about the anti-venom kit. I needed one to break the spell that Lion Maxwell had cast over me. If something didn’t break it soon, I was going to make a terrible mistake.
“I heard you had a knee injury in 109. Sounds like a possible ACL?” The man asking was Dr. Ivan Hackett. He was the Co-Director of Orthopedics, which made him one of my bosses. His voice still had a hint of a British accent from his childhood. The upper-crusty kind with its usual nasal note of smarmy superiority. I’m sure he and the Queen of England would get along just fine. They probably had tea together at Buckingham Palace whenever he was in town.
“Yes. I already had my patient sent up to Radiology for an MRI. I’m waiting on the results.”
“If you need a consult, let me know.”
“I think I can handle it.”
I was never sure if Dr. Hackett was always second guessing me or just a male chauvinist pig. His fine features and classic good looks made him that much more annoying. Although he didn’t have the sort of rugged body you would find in a firemen’s calendar, he was tall and lean and had a broad-shouldered swimmer’s body. I had seen him in a suit and he wore it impeccably well. And he knew it. If there was a sexy doctor’s calendar, Dr. Hackett would be Full of Himself February.
“Well, if anything else arises, do page me straightaway.”
“I will do that.” Sometime in the next century. I smiled at him.
“Right, then. Off to surgery.”
“If you need any help, do page me straightaway.”
He smirked. “Cheeky.”
“Who you talking to out there, Doc?” Lion hollered from his room. His entourage outside turned to look at me.
Dr. Hackett couldn’t resist an opportunity to stick his nose in my business. He waltzed right into Lion’s room. I followed. Per my orders, the nurses had already cold packed Lion’s knee.
“I’m Dr. Hackett. Is there something I can help you with, sir?”
Lion’s eyes danced between me and Hackett. He looked suspicious. “You guys talking about me? I heard something about MRI results. Any word yet?”
I opened my mouth to speak but Hackett beat me to the punch.
“We’re still waiting for results from Radiology. Isn’t that right, Dr. Flanagan?”
“Yes.” I so wanted to throat punch Hackett for doing that.
Hackett ignored me. “I’m sure we’ll have the results for you shortly, sir.”