Hot Bodies Boxed Set: The Complete Vital Signs Erotic Romance Trilogy (27 page)

By the time Ed was finished giving her the royal suck treatment, she had a trail of hickeys up and down her neck and torso a mile long, and every millimeter of her skin was alive and buzzing with sensation. She felt electric—truly alive—possibly for the first time in her life. And just when she thought the sensations between her legs and over the sweaty heaving surface of her body couldn’t possibly get more intense, Ed and Billie took things up another notch.

Ed squeezed Shirley’s breasts together tight and hard, then lifted them up and out until a small tunnel formed underneath them. Then Ed rose up on his haunches and shoved his cock in the space between her breasts, thrusting himself back and forth until he was fucking her there.

A man was fucking her breasts. Shirley never knew such a thing was possible.

And if that weren’t outrageous enough, somehow Ed managed not only to keep his cock strutting in that tunnel he’d created between her breasts, in a feat of wild gymnastics he captured both of Shirley’s nipples into his mouth at the same time, kneading them between his lips and tongue in perfect time with his animal thrusts.

Wow.

Another seemingly impossible thing was happening between Shirley’s legs. Billie had been finger-fucking Shirley with gusto for a while, but she was taking things up a notch, too. Instead of the just one or two fingers she’d been using to stimulate Shirley’s soaking-wet vagina and G-spot, Billie was slowly but surely working more and more of her hand inside. First it was three fingers stretching and pulling and thrusting, making Shirley wider and looser than she ever thought possible. She was already on the verge of coming, but something was holding her back—maybe just curiosity? With as wild as things were getting, who knew what could happen next.

Just when Shirley was about to go over the edge, Billie abruptly pulled her hand out of her, got up and crossed the room. Shirley whimpered as she saw her orgasm backing away from her; her now-empty cunt ached to be filled again. Ed was still fucking her breasts to beat the band, but it wasn’t enough to keep her satisfied—not by a long shot.

She needed something to fill her cunt—now.

“Fuck me, Ed,” she cried. “Please.”

Ed paused from his boob-fucking and looked up. “Just sit tight, hon,” he whispered with a smile. “Billie’s just gettin’ ready for somethin’ I guarantee you’ll like better than anything
I
can do to you.”

That just made Shirley mad. “NO! I need you,
now!
Please!” Her cunt was a black hole now, desperate for something to fill it before her whole body collapsed in on itself.

Just then, Billie reappeared between her legs. “Aw, Shirl, I guarantee this’ll make you feel all better right away.”

Shirley felt something slick and cold between her legs. The scent of raspberry-flavored Astroglide filled the air. Billie slipped a finger back inside her, tickled Shirley’s G-spot, then slipped in another finger. The process repeated again, each time the pressure in her vagina and the tickling of her G-spot getting more and more intense. Billie pulled and tugged and stretched her pussy lips and her insides, then pushed something hard and thick and deep inside her—something harder and thicker and deeper than anything that had crossed her most intimate threshold in her life. The tension in Shirley’s body was the most explosive it had ever been—she was on the verge of going supernova. Only the slightest thread of reserve and determination kept her from going off a cliff and deep into the abyss.

That, and Shirley wanted to know just what the hell was inside of her. For all she knew, it was a battering ram. Or maybe a late-model Cadillac. Whatever it was, it was huge. And it was throbbing in a way that nothing stuffed inside of a cunt should throb.

“I’m in,” Billie whispered.

Ed took this as his cue to pull himself off Shirley’s upper body. He sat on his haunches just beside her and reached out to stroke her forehead. “Look down,” he said. “Look down and see what’s inside you.”

Shirley obeyed. And to her astonishment, saw that Billie’s entire right hand, wrist, even a good chunk of her forearm was inside her cunt. She screamed. In pleasure, of course.

The throbbing inside her intensified even more. “You’re feeling me open and close my hand right now, hon,” Billie cooed, smiling. “It’s called fisting. I hope you like it. I know I love it when Ed does it to me.”

Fisting?
An entire human fist was crammed up her cunt, opening and closing? That was what was making her body feel like one giant interstellar explosion?

Goddamn.

With a scream that could shatter glass, Shirley came so long and hard that she lost consciousness.

The old saying is true. Once you go threesome, you never go back.

****

Shirley awakened in darkness. She didn’t know how long she’d been out—minutes or hours, she had no idea. Her whole body ached from the wild sexual exertions she’d experienced—and yet, she still felt relaxed and completely at peace. The level of satisfaction that Billie and Ed had evoked from her body was beyond description.

Most of the candles had gone out, save for two or three that were still burning on the far side of the room. Shirley heard some soft grunts and moans coming from that direction, heard something that sounded like rhythmic friction on soft carpet, too. She turned her head in that direction and saw Ed and Billie, both naked. And fucking.

They were in a variation of the missionary position, except Billie’s body was pulled up into an arc, her weight resting on her shoulders. Ed was kneeling before her, resting her legs on her shoulders while he pushed his cock in and out of her cunt—easy, since she was exactly perpendicular to him. Shirley recalled that she and Ed had enjoyed this very same position together the night before, and her own cunt vibrated at the memory of the deep, hard penetration it afforded.

Shirley watched in fascination as the attractive young couple fucked each other hard. Ed varied his rhythm back and forth from short bursts of rapid-fire thrusts with intervals of slow, deep, hard rams. Billie counterthrust her tiny hips up and out, matching Ed stroke for stroke. Shirley admired the younger woman’s strength and agility—Shirley had only been able to hold her own body in that position for a minute or so last night, while Billie stayed that way for the duration of the fuck, which seemed to go on forever. Shirley already knew from last night that Ed had plenty of stamina, so who knew how much longer things could last? She hoped against hope that once Ed was finished with Billie that he’d have the energy left to stick that wonderful dick of his deep inside her, too.

Even though their eyes were screwed tightly shut, Ed and Billie still seemed to sense that Shirley was now awake, watching them closely. Their pace quickened, intensified. Instead of the soft, gentle whimpers that accented their sex play before, the couple’s vocalizations became harsher, deeper, more animal-like.

“Uhhhnnuhh!”
Ed grunted, pumping harder and faster. “Unuh, unhuh,
unnuggh
!”

“Oooohhhhhh!” Billie cried. “Yes! Oh baby, baby, yeah! Fuck me, Ed! Fuck me so hard!”

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the most eloquent dialogue in the world. Shirley had seen cheesy porno movies with better sex lines than that. But that didn’t change the fact that watching this beautiful, strong (not to mention
limber
) young couple fuck each others’ brains out wasn’t one of the hottest things she’d ever seen in her entire life.

So hot, in fact, that Shirley needed to get off. In a big way. Now.

Both her hands dropped to the space between her legs. She pried her wet vulva apart with one hand, started in on her red-hot, swollen clit with the other. She settled back against the side of the sofa for leverage, and went to town.

She was on the verge of coming again when she heard Billie and Ed’s simultaneous cries of release. Instead of collapsing into one another and enjoying the afterglow, however, the couple immediately got up and came over to where Shirley was propped up against the sofa, satisfying herself. While Ed went to dispose of his condom, Billie started sucking on one of Shirley’s breasts. She let Shirley work on her cunt by herself, perhaps out of respect for the wild treatment the younger woman had given that piece of anatomy only a short time before. Shirley threw her head back, relishing the heat building between her legs and the wet sensuousness of the younger woman’s mouth on her nipple, riding the tide of pleasure as it ebbed and flowed, ebbed and flowed. She was so lost in her reverie of ecstasy that she barely heard Ed pad over to her on his bare feet, barely heard the foil of the condom packet tear open, barely felt his hard, sheathed cock pass the threshold of her cunt—until he was fully on top of her, pumping and thrusting like a stallion.

He pumped her hard, slamming into her womb every time, making her G-spot explode upon each impact. She came again and again and again, until she thought every cell in her body would disintegrate into nothingness. Worlds, stars, galaxies formed between their two sweating, straining bodies.

Now she knew what the term “Big Bang” really meant.

Ed finally exploded into her. Then to her shock and dismay he immediately pulled out, bringing their bliss to a sharp, sudden end. He stood up and crossed the room, holding the wilted condom out in front of him, then dropped it into a wastebasket before he ducked down the hall and pulled a door shut behind him. Billie had already disappeared somewhere in the depths of the apartment. Wherever the two had disappeared to, the unspoken message was clear—
we’re done with you now, so get out.

Shirley was all alone. Alone, naked, and rubbed raw in all the wrong places.

I knew there had to be a catch
, she mused.

So much for threesomes. It was plenty of fun in the heat of the moment, but at the end of the day, someone always gets stuck being the third wheel.

Nine

Work was absolutely the last place Shirley wanted to be that morning. Her back ached, she had a painful crick in her neck, and the entire lower half of her body felt like it had been torched.

Not to mention the fact she hadn’t slept a wink all night long. Once she knew she’d been tossed out of Billie and Ed’s love nest, she’d headed back upstairs to her own bed. And she ended up spending the rest of the night staring at her cracked bedroom ceiling, wracked with all sorts of conflicting emotions. Was she a sophisticated, sensual goddess—or a cheap whore? Would she ever be able to look Ed in the eye if they ran into each other in her building’s lobby or in the parking lot? Would Ed ever want to fuck her again?

Hell, knowing that she’d spent the better part of a weeknight getting fisted hard by a hot blonde and fucked harder by a man in his twenties, would
any
man ever want to fuck her again?

And far most troubling of all, what would Dr. Randall Hamm think of a woman with her checkered sexual past? The guy didn’t exactly seem like a man who was into anything kinky.

He didn’t seem like a man who was into anything sexual at all, in fact. He was just about as unreadable—and cold—as any man Shirley had ever laid eyes on. It was a cruel twist of irony that he was also the hottest-looking man she’d ever laid eyes on.

For the first time in her life Shirley truly understood what it meant to be lovesick. In the Victorian sense. To the point of swooning. She had a nasty case of the vapors.

In fact, she’d seriously considered calling in sick today. And she would have, if it weren’t only her third day on the job.

How would she make it on through three operations today when her cunt felt like it had been stretched a mile wide thanks to Billie’s fisting and Ed’s fucking? How would she be able to concentrate when her head ached and her heart clenched with desire for the one man she couldn’t have—the very same man who’d be standing right behind her in the OR?

Shirley had absolutely no idea.

She could really use a stiff drink. Or
several
stiff drinks. Too bad it was illegal for nurses to drink on the job.

Shirley headed down the hall towards Beth Peking’s office, dragging her feet the whole way. Even at this ungodly hour, The Dragon Lady was already at her desk, dressed in yet another red silk Mandarin suit (this one decorated with lotus flowers) and yet another pair of four-inch spike heels. She stared Shirley down as she came into the room, frowning and drumming her long lacquered nails on her desktop. Something in the tiny woman’s fierce expression told Shirley that today was going to be even worse than she thought.

“Shirley Daniels!” the Dragon Lady squawked. “You not even here three days, already you making trouble!”

“I—“ Shirley stammered. “I—“

“Be quiet! Sit down!”

Shirley obeyed. She plunked herself down on a hard wooden chair, then winced when the impact stung her already-aching sensitive parts.

This didn’t slip the Dragon Lady’s notice. “What matter with you, Shirley? You constipated?”

“No, umm, ahhh”—Shirley searched for a plausible lie—“I just pulled some muscles working out, is all.” Which was true, in a manner of speaking. The vagina was a sort of muscle, wasn’t it?

“Well, today your lucky day then. You banned from OR today.”

“What? Why?”

The Dragon Lady rolled her eyes. “Come on. You know why. Because of what happened yesterday. You kill your first patient. Now you have to file incident report.”

“I didn’t kill the patient! From what I understand, the
surgeon
probably did!”

“You no argue with me! You
my
nurse.
I
say whether you kill patient or not.”

Shirley blinked twice. So much for Beth Peking’s soft side, which Shirley had had just a glimpse of yesterday. The Dragon Lady was back in force. Which must mean that the Dragon Lady was taking some heat from yesterday’s OR debacle herself. “Ms. Peking, I assure you that I was not responsible for what happened to the patient yesterday. And I am sure that will be proven beyond a doubt once the hospital’s investigation is complete. In fact, I will do everything in my power to show that you run the best nurse-anesthetists’ team in the entire Southeast.”

If there was one thing about nursing that Shirley had learned back in Statesville, it was
when in doubt, butter up your boss.

And it seemed to work. The Dragon Lady’s expression softened; Shirley thought she might have even noticed the tiny beginnings of a smile tugging at one corner of the tiny woman’s birdlike mouth. “Just get Administration bozos off my back,” she snapped. “I up to here in paperwork now. All kind of big shots asking me all kind of question now. I no need any more trouble—I already too busy. You understand?”

Shirley nodded. “It’ll all turn out fine, Beth. I promise.”

“You no call me Beth! You call me Ms. Peking!”

Shirley sighed. What kind of Chinese woman was named
Beth
in the first place? “It’ll all turn out fine,
Ms. Peking
.”

The Dragon Lady smiled for real. “That better. Now get out. Go to President’s office. On third floor. They waiting for you.”

At this hour
? Shirley thought as she left. It was just barely past six-thirty in the morning. But then again, hospital administrators weren’t known for keeping bankers’ hours.

She swallowed hard, bit her lip, and headed for the elevators.

As she expected, the hospital administration’s offices were mostly dark and empty at this early hour. But there was a single overhead florescent light burning in the small secretary’s nook that sat in front of the President’s office. A petite, elderly secretary with perfectly coiffed silver hair and an expensive-looking suit sat behind the brightly polished desk, typing a memo. She looked up from her computer screen as Shirley approached and smiled.

“Ah, you must be Shirley Daniels,” the secretary drawled in a voice that dripped of the old South. Her hair was a lacquered lavender helmet, and her wattly blue-veined neck dripped with fine cultured pearls. Back in her youth, this woman was probably the prototypical upper-class Southern belle, complete with ruffles, parasol, and her very own white verandah draped in Spanish moss. She probably went to finishing school instead of college, too, where she learned how to dance the quadrille and the delicate art of holding one’s pinky out while drinking tea. And now she was a hoity-toity executive secretary in a designer suit, probably earning double the salary Shirley did with a graduate degree in nursing.

Shirley disliked her immediately.

“The President’s waitin’ for you, darlin,” the woman drawled, turning back to her memo. “Make sure you’re honest, now. President Chalmers can tell when people lie, honest he can.”

The pit of Shirley’s stomach quivered. There was a sinister edge to the aging Southern belle’s voice. What was that hoity-toity woman implying, anyway? She had no intention of lying. In fact, the whole situation seemed fairly straightforward to her. A routine inquiry into an unexpected OR death, that’s all. This sort of thing was commonplace in hospitals big and small all over the country. Wasn’t it?

Shirley glanced back at the snobby secretary, who was absorbed in typing her memo and no longer acknowledged her presence. She obviously wasn’t going to get any more help there. She took a deep breath for courage and padded into the hospital president’s office, her thick-soled Nurse Mates sinking into the deep plush pile of the office carpeting.

President Chalmers hulked behind a huge mahogany desk, reading a thick medical text. He was a pudgy man with a white beard and an expensive suit, and looked to be in his late sixties. Several framed diplomas and certificates decorated the wood-paneled wall behind him, and a brass nameplate reading “REGINALD CHALMERS, MD, MBA” sat on the edge of the desk. So President Chalmers was also
Dr
. Chalmers. That was unusual. In Shirley’s experience, doctors and hospital administrators hated each others’ guts. For Chalmers to be walking both sides of that line made him a hard man to read indeed.

President Chalmers didn’t acknowledge Shirley’s presence, so she cleared her throat loudly. Twice. After what seemed like an eternity, the gruff old man looked up. His flinty gray eyes scanned Shirley up and down, up and down again. “Well. You must be the new hire under Beth Peking,” he growled. His Southern drawl was even thicker and more patrician than his polished Steel Magnolia secretary. “I’ve heard a lot about you, gal.”

“All good, I hope,” Shirley chirped, trying hard to sound upbeat. But in reality, she was shaking in her Nurse Mates.

President Chalmers didn’t seem too impressed by that. “I hear from persons who have reason to know that you were the attending nurse anesthetist when Enola Higginbottom died in the OR. Is that true?”

Shirley swallowed hard. “Yes, sir, it is.”

President Chalmers’ thick gray brows knitted together, forming a single tuft that looked like the wrong end of a rabbit. “Anything else you’d like to say ‘bout that, gal?”

“Sir, with due respect, I would like to state that I conducted myself to the best of my nursing abilities at all times during the procedure. It was I who alerted the emergency response team when Ms. Higginbottom became—ahem—distressed. And I stayed with the patient and continued monitoring her until the attending physician determined that there was nothing more to be done for her.”

President Chalmers listened in silence, a baleful expression pulling at his ruddy wrinkled features. He seemed to be expecting something more from her. Something Shirley wasn’t entirely sure she was willing to give him.

But whether she wanted to spill the beans on Dr. Randall Hamm was beside the point. Her job was on the line, after all—not to mention her own personal ethics. She swallowed hard and did what she had to. “Sir, it gives me great pain to tell you that the anesthesiologist supervising me and the operation left in the middle of the procedure, abruptly and without explanation. He never came back to the OR, even after Ms. Higginbottom flatlined.”

President Chalmer’s tightened jaw relaxed the slightest bit, the muscles rippling underneath the snowy white hairs of his beard. He nodded once. “Ummm-hmm. And who was the anesthesiologist in question, Miss Daniels?”

“I think you already know that, sir.”

“I want you to tell me.”

“It was Dr. Randall Hamm, sir. I—I even tried calling out for him, to get him to come back to the OR, but he never did. And he never explained why, either.” Shirley felt her cheeks burn, felt her pulse quicken. She knew she was betraying Dr. Hamm, but she had no choice. In fact, a part of her was almost
glad
to be betraying him. That just made her cheeks burn and her pulse quicken even more.

President Chalmers didn’t say anything for almost a full minute. He coughed, shuffled papers on his desk, fiddled with a pen, shuffled more papers. “Good gal,” he finally said, his tone softer and much more friendly. “Now you’re sure that Dr. Hamm never explained where he went when he left the OR?”

“Not to me, sir.”

“Miss Daniels, may I ask what your impressions are of working at University Hospital thus far? As I recall you haven’t even been here a week, and yet you’ve already managed to see a fair bit of excitement.”

Shirley bit her lip. This was a trick question if there ever was one. “Well—“

“It’s all right, gal. This ain’t a test. Whatever you say in here stays right here in this office.”

“Well, sir, it’s certainly been—interesting. Definitely a big change from my days working in a small town.”

“You came here from Statesville, didn’t you?”

Shirley nodded.

“Nice town, Statesville. The wife an’ I got ourselves a hunting cabin out that way. Nice place to go for deer season. Pretty in the springtime, too.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I ‘spect that life here in the big city is a mite different than what you were used to back in Statesville?”

Shirley bit her lip again. This could get hairy in a hurry. “It’s been a bit of an adjustment, sir,” she muttered. Ha. If he only knew.

“Well, you seem like a resourceful gal,” President Chalmers chuckled, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the desk. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine here in Raleigh. Which brings me to the whole reason I called you in here in the first place. I hafta admit, I called your boss Beth Peking on a bit of a false pretense. We never suspected you were responsible for what happened to Enola Higginbottom in any way whatsoever. But I couldn’t exactly come up with another reason to have you come into my office at six-thirty in the morning. Not without havin’ The Dragon Lady get suspicious, anyhow.”

Shirley stifled a giggle. So even President Chalmers called Beth Peking The Dragon Lady behind her back. That went a long way to show just how unpopular she really was. “Ms. Peking is a very interesting person to work for, sir.”

The jowly old man guffawed. “Well, you sure are polite, ain’t you? Which makes me think you’re perfect for the little job I’ve set up for you to do.”

“What kind of job, sir? Something besides anesthesia work?”

“In a manner of speaking. What I want you to do, Miss Daniels, is try to find out more about Dr. Randall Hamm. Spend some time with him. Find out what makes him tick. My administrators and I have been up and down this whole Enola Higginbottom thing, and we can’t for the life of us figure out why Dr. Hamm would have bolted outa the OR like that. An’
he
ain’t telling us why, neither. An’ even though he’s department head an’ worked here at University for nigh on ten years, nobody, not even the snoops up in Human Resources, have one iota of personal information on the guy. Not even his home address. He uses a PO box on his HR form, an’ his emergency contact number is a pager service. The guy’s locked up about as tight as an ugly virgin’s legs in winter. I need you to find out everything you can about Dr. Randall Hamm, then report that info back to me.”