Page 44 of Aftershock
It’s dark outside when I leave the hospital after my shift.
As I cross the road, a breeze brushes my face. My hands are stuffed in my hoodie pockets.
And my head works relentlessly.
I can’t stop thinking about Lilith and how I touched her earlier today.
My fingers still remember her clit fluttering and hardening beneath them. My ears ring from her little moans and the way she said my name.
Her face…her body…
She’s breathtaking, even more so when she’s flushed with need. When her eyes beg me to take her.
When she pushed her ass back, and I caught a sliver of her pink, swollen cunt, it was as if it were the first pussy I ever saw.
So fucking perfect.
My teeth grind as I remember how beautiful she was when she came.
The sight alone turned my orgasm into something violent, intense. It reached into the depths of my soul. That’s how powerful it was.
As each memory plays before my eyes like a goddamn movie, my cock thickens in my jeans. While I’m walking down the street.
The out-of-control hunger must be written all over my face, because a man walking toward me slows as we pass. His brow furrows, his gaze lingering on me for a moment too long.
This is bad. Really fucking bad.
No matter what goes on inside my head, I can’t afford to be memorable.
Those who stand out end up being placed at crime scenes. Sure, cameras cover nearly every corner of the city. But they don’t point at you and saythis one man who passed through here yesterday, he was…off.They just show a cluster of pixels, of dozens of faces that mean nothing.
That’s why inside the hospital, I’m just another doctor. Out on the street, I’m an average thirty-five-year-old in jeans and a plain hoodie, blending into the crowd.
Except this only works if my expression stays neutral.
Which, at the moment, it isn’t.
So I force my features to relax, unclenching my jaw as I roll my shoulders, easing the tension from them. Years of practice make it a simple enough task.
My head and heart, however, are just as chaotic as they were a minute ago.
It can only be explained by the Lilith-shaped hole she dug inside me today.
Such a deep goddamn hole too, that I couldn’t leave the hospital without telling her goodnight. The evening shift had taken over by the time I got to the cafeteria, and…
Fuck me, my teeth grind all over again.
Calm the fuck down.
I try, at least outwardly.
Then the questions come.
How old is she? What’s her last name?
Who hurt her?
I already know she was my patient. Her reaction in the supply closet confirmed that.
