Doc-On-Call

WARNiNG:  THIS STORY IS RATED 18+ and is for MATURE readers, only.

Chapter 7   Careless Whisper…

Raising her face out of Jon’s chest, she finally seemed to be at peace. When she tried to step away, he still held her.

“Better?” he asked as he nuzzled her ear.

“Yes,” her voice was low and rough. “Yes, better,” she sighed as she raised her face to meet his.

“Do you really like me?” she asked him, her eyes scrutinizing him. “Old ass and all?”

“Yes,” he nodded his head.   “I do indeed. And not just for your tantalizing blood,” he winked at her. “The rest of you are just as clean. Clean teeth, clean body, love what you do to your hair, by the way. That is some great Ombre style. I don’t smell any dye so that must be all natural. Plus you have no pox, in today’s lingo that would mean no STD’s, no…”

Pinching him, he yelped and she continued. “Flatterer,” she tried to pinch him again and he jumped backward before she was able to make contact. “We should leave Clive something to eat,” she squinted her eyes at him while she shook her head to make her point.

“M-m-m-m,” he grinned. “Then you should have a little something to eat, then a great big something to help you sleep…” his grin got bigger and he wiggled his eyebrows and winked at her.

“Flatter yourself much?” she rolled her eyes, again.

“Well, when the lady will not…” he countered. “And I speak only truth…” he blew her a kiss.

“You are ver-r-ry sure of yourself,” she chuckled. “I am past menopause. I have hormones lacking. Vaginal dryness, lack of a sex drive. Sex is not something that occupies my every waking moment.”

“What?” he said in dismay. “I am calling bull-l-l-l shit on that one,” he laughed. “All I have to do is take one step closer to you,” and with those words he moved in next to her. They were now standing toe-to-toe. “Your heart rate picks up, your eyes dilate, and from the smell that is tripping tantalizingly and teasing me across my tongue, I am willing to bet you are wet.

Since I have met you Ellen, I have been very frustrated and tempted as well. You are most enticing,” he ran his finger down the front of her robe, following the opening   to her waist as he tugged on the belt.

“Rain is picking back up,” she heard the drops starting to beat on the windows and stared intently in that direction as if to make the rain manifest itself in the kitchen and not to think about the man that was now untying her robe. His hands pushed it open and they slid around her waist to her backside. Cupping her ass, he pulled her onto him.

“A good day to stay inside,” her words were a bit breathy. “Clive does not like wet kibble,” and then she blushed.

“He does not know what he is missing,” Jon grinned at her. “And right now,” he leaned in and kissed her, his mouth opening hers as his tongue found welcome and warmth and longing and passion! “It just so happens that I do,” he said as he pulled back, his breathing just as ragged as hers. “Undo my jeans Ellen, please,” he was licking and nibbling on her ear. “I want to feel your hands against me.” When her hands shifted and he felt the first button come undone, he let out a low groan. “That’s right, the next one. Put your fingers inside,” he caught his breath, as her warmth touched him and the next button was undone.

“Gaw-w-w-wd,” he moaned, “I would do you right here in the kitchen,” he laughed a bit hysterically, “but, ah-h-h-h,” he gasped and pushed against her hands as the next button was unfastened. “Fuck,” he gasped out. “I’d hurt you in here. Bedroom,” his mouth took hers and walking with her in his arms back to the bedroom, he knew exactly what he wanted to do to her.

It had been ten long years since she had held a man, let alone felt a man. His heat, his warmth, that smell that said he was aroused! From time to time, a flash of fangs! She could hear him chanting ever so softly, “Slow down or you will hurt her, slow down or you will hurt her, slow down…” as he carried her to bed.

There was a flurry of clothes being tossed aside. Her robe went flying then her gown and when she stood in front of the fire, nude, she heard him inhale and hold his breath.

“Beautiful,” he smiled as he ran his hands up and down her curves. “M-m-m,” he made a little grunt of satisfaction as he picked her up and carried her to bed.

When they were both under the covers, he pulled her gently on top of him for a deep kiss. “You set the pace,” he whispered, “and I will follow,” as he kissed her neck, her breasts and then his mouth was devouring hers!

What seemed like forever, he kissed her! Wanting more and not wanting him to stop, in her desperation to be filled she slid down his body and felt him slid inside of her. With a small cry she held perfectly still as she adjusted to his girth.

That is when Jon rolled them over. He was now above her with his elbows resting on the bed. “I want to look at you while we do this,” he rubbed his nose against hers. “You set the pace, but I want to watch your face,” he smiled at her as she tentatively thrust forward and then his smile turned to a groan.

“Damn-m-m-m,” he grunted as he pushed in deeper. “I know,” he gritted his teeth, “that this will not get you there, but just let me enjoy the ride for a moment and then,” he latched onto her nipple, suckled, then raised his head, his eyes holding hers. “Then your turn.”

“Oh-h-h-h-h-h,” came out in a long, low sigh from her as he pushed forward and then retreated. Each time, the movement a bit more sure, deeper and then harder.

Her hands were on his shoulders, then caressing his face; drifting downward, pinching his nipples every so slightly.

“Better,” he sighed as he found a rhythm that they both enjoyed, always careful to keep his body off her stomach.

“Better,” she smiled at him as she pulled his head down for a kiss.

When the kiss broke off, he moved on to her neck, her breasts, carefully placing kisses on the scars on her tummy that were still healing. Kissing his way lower, with her hands in his hair, her words inaudible, her moans driving him on!

With his head resting on her thigh, with his tongue he opened her up and he felt her body buck as he licked across her clitoris. “M-m-m-m,” rumbled out of his mouth when his lips replaced his tongue and her hands slammed down onto the mattress.

“Please,” was all she was able to say as his tongue replaced his lips then with a happy rumble in his chest, he spread her legs and he Frenched her deep, his tongue alternating between her vagina and her clit until the incoherent sounds gave way to “Please…Jon….please.”

Pulling himself up to her, with a deep kiss his fingers were inside of her and his thumb was on her numb and her screams could be heard above the roll of the thunder.

When her body arched, he slid back into her and began his own release. With a yell he pushed in, stiffened, and then kissed her as he moved to his side, his arms around her.

“May I?” he asked, panting.

“Yes,” she whispered back.

He moved her to her side, her body pushed into his. Kissing her neck, then licking it, ever so gently he bit, his fangs just barely breaking the skin. Positioning himself, he grew hard and found her opening. As he suckled the blood from her, he pushed in once, twice, thrice and then came, again.   Lifting his head, he kissed her neck and took one last, long lick as he watched the two puncture marks close.

“Sleep,” he sighed contentedly into her hair. “I will be here. While you are resting I am going to get up and make some phone calls, but I will be here.

Once I locate Gilly, we will meet him at his hotel, tonight.”

“Really?” She heard the doubt in her own voice. “You want me to meet him?”

“You are my lady,” he responded, his voice soft and direct. “Of course I want him to meet you. Besides, whoever directed Reginald here, they already know about you. So you are no secret.

You rest,” he kissed her on the nose. “Sleep until you wake. Then you are going to need some food.”

“M-m-m-m,” was all the response he got and then there was only the sound of her gentle breathing.

Pulling on the jeans and shirt, he located his phone and then walked out and into the hall, quietly pulling closed the bedroom door. Pulling up his schedule and going into the living room he tossed on another log and then made calls. Two hours and numerous phone calls later, his shift was covered for the next two weeks. He thought it would probably take him that long to see this through.

“Of course,” he looked toward the bedroom, “if I have to physically go back to Scotland, I will have to take Ellen…and if Ellen walks into this, it could take a bit longer.

Fucking cowards! Is there a reason they just cannot challenge me outright?

Gilly,” he sighed. “O’ Brother, where art thou? And why?” His mind drifted back to what was left of the female he had located on the side of the cliff. Not Gilly’s work but someone had copycatted his brother. Leaving her with the message to deliver to him that they wanted to pluck out and eat his eyes. That was new.

Making one phone call, he found his brother. He knew Gilly was staying at The Mayo. His baby brother had a thing for Art Deco, penthouses, and roof top dining. The Mayo could offer Gilly that in spades.

There was another rumble of thunder and then something that felt like a gale force wind hit the house.

The wind came whistling down the chimney and then was drawn back out. It sounded like someone was having an asthma attack as the house choked and sputtered!

Jon sat silently and watched the fireplace for several minutes. The wind had whipped the sparks into a frenzy as they battled to get past the screen before they were pulled violently back up the chimney.

“If we are going to Scotland” he mused as he pulled up the flight info, “I am going to need first class reservations. And the castle aired out along with all the bedding.

Gilly is not the only one in the family that likes luxury,” he smiled as he started scrolling through the castle’s linen closet. Sheets spun on the night of a full moon by silk spider weavers and pounded out in rivers by the soul washers.  His house would be in order if he were going to take Ellen, there.

He had never been able to provide that lifestyle for Drust. They had lived simply but well enough. No fine linen, no supple leather…no…and no. Just the two of them, their cottage in the woods and the plant life that surrounded them. There were no other distractions except for the occasional call for a healer.

Sitting back and putting his feet up, he thought about the first woman who had offered him sex and then her life’s blood so that he could continue on without her.

The thunder and lightning continued as the rain fell, pounding to the rhythm of his throbbing penis, and his memories of this woman turned each page of his soul.

When Ellen woke, she was hungry. It was raining and then some! They were getting the effects of the last hurricane of the season. What was left of Houston from the two hundred mile an hour winds was now being pushed north at a fast clip and seemed to refuse to leave the area. Wind and rain was in the forecast for the next several days.

Stopping off in the kitchen, she took out a protein shake and drank it. “So small to have so many calories,” she sighed as she put the can in the recycle bin. “Does not even taste remotely like chocolate or a shake,” she squinted in disgust as she headed for the living room.

Jon was still here which surprised her but she was pleased nonetheless. She knew he had said he would stay, but still, he was a busy guy. Doctor, hospital owner, tracker of serial killers and vampire who just happened to be King of the Supernaturals. His Who’s Who list was impressive.

And there he was, sitting in the chair in front of the fire. Looking so much like Charles at age forty that it bent her heart, forcing it into an awkward angle as it wrapped around this truth: this man was not her husband. She knew that rationally and emotionally. He was something completely different. Vampire topping that list.

Still…if Charles had come home as vampire… “Do not,” she felt like kicking herself. “Enjoy the moment with Jon who wants to be with you. Not everyone gets moments that they enjoy.” Grabbing a couple of pillows off the couch as she passed by, she tossed them down by his feet.

“M-m-m,” his eyes were closed and his head was resting against the back of the chair.

When she pushed his legs farther apart, he raised his head. Kneeling on the pillows, when her hands began traveling up his legs to the buttons on his jeans, his eyes were watching her every move.

“A little thank you for earlier,” was all she said as he became fully engaged and his fingers got in the way as he tried to help her relieve him of his jeans.

When she took him in her mouth she felt his fingers begin to lightly dance across her curls.

She stopped sucking and looking up at him said, “If you grip my head once and push on it or whatever, I am done. If there is something specifically you want, tell me, do not,” she stressed, “gag me.”

“I can do that,” he gulped. Gripping the arms of the chair, he nodded as her mouth re-engaged. Brut strength was flowing from him. He was afraid he would snap the wood that was covered by batting and cloth. “Yes, yes, yes…” was all he could manage to say. Then the sob started low in his gut as his toes curled and he thrust forward, the sound coming from his throat was not human but it was guttural, low and deep. His fangs snicked down as he reached for her and pulled her up into his lap, her back to him.

“I am hungry,” was all he managed to get out before his mouth was all over her neck and his tongue was caressing every part of her while he chewed on her collarbones. When her heart rate was up, his hands were on her ass as he pushed aside her robe. With a thrust up, he moaned and found her wet and wanting him. She pushed back and his hands were now busy as well. One hand was on a nipple while the other worked her clit, his hips setting the pace.

Ellen felt a moment of panic! It was not supposed to be like this! This was not what she wanted! Only to please him was what had driven this moment! But, she was vibrating, a low sound wailing from her depths; the need in her took as he continued to tease her. Her brain was screaming at her that it would leave her feeling vulnerable if she let completely go. She did not know him. He was a stranger. You cannot allow him access to your soul!

Her body knew only the wanting of his hands on her, his penis in her—filling her as the need to let completely go fought its way to the top while her rational self tried to push his hands away.

“No,” was all he growled.

He could feel it building inside of her. She was shaking and with each gasp, she pulled the air deeper into her lungs. Watching and listening closely, he was not going to allow her to dampen her desire or bury what she was feeling along with her husband. When she screamed, he counted down from five and released himself within her; then he bit and with perfect timing, they both finished together.

Pulling the blanket over them, he held her until she stopped shaking.

Was she pissed? Well maybe… Was she scared, absolutely! “I did not give you permission to do that,” she said through clinched teeth as she stared at the fire.

“Do what?” he asked, his breath pushing past her ear.

“Make me fully engage,” she said, turning her head to look at him.

“What?” he replied, his gaze focused on her.   “You give me only what you want me to have?”

“Something like that,” she replied. “I don’t expose my depth of passion to anyone.”

“Really?” he sat back and turned her to face him. “But I beg to differ. The woman who told me about her husband and son and her dearly loved sisters, seldom have I seen such depth of passion.”

“Sex is different,” she said, her gaze not wavering from his.

“You are talking about control, correct,” he chuckled.

“Do not…” she hissed at him.

“As in never losing control during sex,” he laughed. “Letting go and feeling the passion  build as it ripples through your body, causing you to shake and beg for something more.”

“Fucking-Always-Right-Mr. Asshole,” she glared at him.   “You are just like the Fucking-Always-Right-Mr. Asshole I married.

Yes, and you know what being right always gets you,” she pulled his face to hers. “It gets you fucking dead…gone…removed from my plane of existence, my reality gets to take a nose dive into the deep dismal abyss while you…you…” she sputtered, trying to keep from crying.

“Oh Ellen…no…,” he wrapped her in his arms and placed kisses all over her face. “No,” he gently placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face for a kiss. “No.”

“You don’t know that,” she wiped at her eyes.

“That is true,” he nodded. “But I have a better than average chance of survival. Especially with you watching my back.”

“I get to shoot any of those bastards that try and hurt you?” she said, her voice a bit shaky but better.

“Yes,” he smiled at her and then kissed, again. “Yes,” he laid his forehead against hers, “yes you do.

Now, Gilly is staying at The Mayo. I think the sooner we go and see him, the better.”

The Mayo,” she looked thoughtful. “I guess I still have clothes to go out and about. I just hope my fat ass still fits in something.

Do I have time to shower?” she asked.

“No,” he grinned.

“But I smell like sex,” her voice accused him of many things; bragging that he had just had sex was one of them.

“Exactly,” his grin got bigger and his eyes danced with mischief. “The rain is letting up. We’ll walk over to the hospital and I’ll change and we’ll go. Wear something with a full skirt,” he grinned at her. “That makes accessibility so much easier.”

“Full skirt?” she eyed him. “Really? You are such a guy,” she arched a brow at him.

“Thanks,” he grinned impishly as she got up to leave and he swatted her butt.

Watching her walk away he wondered from where she had gotten that false body image she had of herself. Was she over sixty, well yes. Was she a stick, well no. Was she all curves, well yes and fit. She trained and did the Tulsa Triathlon every year. It was only The Sprint, she would laugh, which consisted of a 500 meter swim, a 12 mile bike ride, and a 5k run. But she divided up her week so that every other day she was running, or biking, or swimming. On the off days she walked three miles and did some weights. While she had been heavily drugged, she had talked about that…the athlete that she was not and she would laugh uproariously.

That was how she dealt with her grief. Constantly on the move and she pushed herself until she was too exhausted to care.

That was noticed and noted in the hospital. You would see her everywhere at any time with her IV tower in tow. If you were to stick your head into her room, she was always sitting in the chair and not lying on the bed. At one point she had walked down to the cafeteria just to breath in the smells that she could not eat. That had caused somewhat of a ruckus when he had come in that evening and no one knew where she was.

She was not supposed to leave the floor. Somehow, that had not been explained to her. Locating her was easy. All he had to do was follow the perfume that was distinctly her. As he escorted her back, he had explained   in detail that she was not to go exploring the hospital, mooning everyone. She had listened politely and then patted him on the ass assuring him she would not do that again.

It was at that moment he knew, as she walked regally down the halls, waving to everyone and stopping to inquire how they were doing, and introducing him and Mr. IV Tower, with her ass showing, that he was going to see her once she left the hospital.

The blown hole in her intestine had slowed her down but she still looked like she could take most twenty year olds. She certainly could shoot his asshole of a brother in the back of the head.

Her poise came to her naturally; bare assed, higher-than-a-kite or not her self-confidence radiated out.

As did her looks. Ellen was an older, beautiful woman; but her hair made her striking! Silver, whirled through with black as curls sprayed around her head.

With just a touch and a push on a memory, he was back in that field, watching Drust walking away from him, her silver hair reflecting back the sun, while the black absorbed it. There was grass still stuck in her hair and his body heat still warmed her as she went to pick Waldorf leaves.

“I may be Fucking-Always-Right-Mr. Asshole,” he said to himself as Ellen left the room. “But you are just like Drust, as well. If you hurt him, I will end your life in the most horrific of ways.” There had been several who had thought to harm him during his years with Drust. They had all come crawling to her, or being carried on a litter, begging for the cure while the blood poured from all their orifices. Her reply to them was to scream out her curses on their house. There was no one his beloved could not reach with one of her potions. He was willing to bet not many could out run one of Ellen’s silver bullets. “I love you,” he whispered.

“Careless,” the voice chuckled that was on the roof next to the chimney. “A careless whisper,” he gloated and made himself small so he would not be seen when they came outside.