E N R I Q U E  R O M A N O

I lean against the front desk, my eyes drooping tiredly as I wait for the nurse to bring me my chart. 

I hear a whistle coming from the left of me, turning my head to see Dr. Falcon next to me, staring at his beeper with a smile on his face. "Rough night?" He asks.

I straighten my posture, a deep sigh passing from my lips, "Something like that," I rumble. I say a thanks in gratitude as the nurse finally gets back to me, sending her a smile in the process. 

Dr. Falcon— Roy— looks at the exchange with a teasing smile on his face, "Coffee?"

I scowl at the cup that he pushes in my direction as we turn around to walk towards the elevator, "You know I don't drink that atrocious shit," I sneer.

He belts out a laugh, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "I know, I just love to see your expression when I offer it to you, it's empty anyway," To prove his point, he throws it in the garbage as we pass by a bin.

I roll my eyes, pushing my hair away from my face. Roy stares at me quizzically, "Why are you here so early, anyway? You have no surgeries until later this afternoon," He points out.

My teeth grind together, "I have a hospital to run, do I not?" I quip.

We both step into the lift as it opens, "I suppose," He stares at me again. He straightens his back and grabs onto the collar of his lab coat to bring in higher, successfully hiding the tattoos that littered his neck.

Roy was like me, I suppose. He had no intentions of becoming a doctor, and especially not the head of neurosurgery. He was in a motorcycle club for most of his young years, one that his father and grandfather had run before him. He left all of it to his brother, after he fell in love with a girl that was from a very high-class. 

He wanted to be better for her. And they were together for quite some well, until only a few years ago when they broke up. Luckily, something great came out of it.

I suppose the only difference between out stories was that he met the girl and got the degree while the girl left me and after, I got the degree.

These train of thoughts led me to think back to just a few hours earlier this morning. It took everything that I had in me to leave the woman that I admittedly still had strong feelings for, in my own bed, naked as the day she was born, and looking like a sex goddess.

I grit my teeth and focus my attention back on Roy. He had long hair that was a few lengths passed his neck. He always had it tied in a messy bun above his head. He was just as about tall as me, and had the same stature, although I was sure that he was a bit bulkier than me seeing as he worked out everyday non-stop.

He was just a few short years older than me, and I guess it was our age that made us became close friends, seeing as nearly all the other attendings were well in their fifties, older, or newbies.

"Anyway," He continued. "Why do you look like this?" We stepped out of the elevator.

I pulled out my phone as we began walking, "Is it that obvious?"

"Mhm," He hums. "You looked fucked over," He explains with a short laugh, writing something in the chart in his hand. He took a step back and looked me up and down once again before correcting himself, "Or more so, you looked fucked."

I shake my head as I roll my eyes. 

His mouth opens in shock, "So you're finally taken my advice, hm? Which nurse was it? Was is Rasheda? Oh, wait, no! Lizzy..." He tried again. His face suddenly flattens, "I hope it is not Cecilia because she does this thing with her mouth that—"

I interrupt him, "Okay! Thank you, but I'd rather not hear about the sexual performances of my staff."

I was sure that Roy had slept with with nearly all of the nurses on staff, but it wasn't any of my business what he did outside of my hospital, or rather, who he did.

"And no, I did not take your advice," I scowled.

We both stood in front of the electronic board that displayed all of our surgeries for the day. I typed in my name on the digital keyboard and observed the surgeries that I had for the day, rubbing the stubble on my chin.

Roy just wouldn't shut up, "Oh no," He shook  his head with a disappointed look on his face. "Don't tell me that you are Meghan are back together."

My eyes snapped in his direction, "Are you really asking me that question?"

He raised his hand in surrender, "Alright, alright. You're probably the first man that I know to dump a woman, and break off your engagement with her and yet she still insists that you remain friends," He shrugs his shoulders. "I worship men like you."

I hum as I ignore him. He could act like such a child sometimes.

"That was over a year ago, we didn't end things badly, she understood why I ended things," I announced. "Anyway, don't you have a patient to see?" I pointed to the board beneath his name at room 36, where a patient with a brain tumor laid.

He whistles, "Right, well— see you at lunch?"

I smile in response, watching him walk off and leaving me to dwell over his words.

It didn't take long for me to make it to my office, sit in my chair and for my thoughts to suddenly drift back to Demiah.

She was infuriating. I hate just about everything she does. I hate how she makes me want her, how all that she has to do is smile for my heart to go fucking nuts, how after all of these years, the desire I had for her didn't dwindle, but instead grew stronger than ever. Most importantly, I hated how hard my fucking cock was just about now just because I was thinking about her.

What made me think so bold of the idea that she would leave her husband for me now? When she barely gave a second thought of me over a decade ago when she married him in the first place?

She would go back home to her husband, and I would go home to an empty house, the fragrance of her perfume swamping the walls of my house. Whenever I would enter the kitchen, I wouldn't be able to move about peacefully without seeing the image of her hoisted up on my damn counter begging me to fuck the living daylights out of her. Whenever I would have a meal, the taste of her fucking pussy would be the only thing that my tongue would remember.

I rub my fingers against my bottom lip thoughtfully. I was itching to hear her voice, but I wouldn't call her. I'd wait for her to want me just nearly as much as I want her, because I was damn-well sure, that she could never feel the way that I felt for her.

I run a hand down my face ruggedly, checking the time on my watch to see that it was time for my first year residents to be getting off of their asses and reporting to me. I release a deep sigh, as I rise from my chair and exit my office.

Anything to get my mind off of Demiah Sallows, because she sure as hell wasn't no Demiah Sievers to me.

'~~~~ ︱ ~~~~'

I finally unlock the door of my house after not seeing it for over 48 hours. I was tired as fuck; exhausted even, but for some reason I couldn't find the energy to go upstairs and lie in my bed, or even to sleep at all.

I slacken the tie from around my neck, making my way into the kitchen and pouring myself a whiskey, throwing my head back and clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth as the liquid burns my throat.

I check my phone as I feel it vibrate against my thigh. Demiah was calling me. She had already called 4 times from the last time that I saw her 2 days ago; two days ago when I had my dick so far up in her that I felt her soul.

It took everything in me when I declined the call and pushed my phone back into my pocket, leaning my arms against the counter and holding my head down. 

What if my plot to make Demiah realise that she still cared for me backfired? What if I was just driving her further into the arms of her cock-sucking husband? What if she took my declined calls as me losing interests to her?

The thought made my heart beat faster and caused me to grab my phone from my pocket again. I stared at it long and hard, my thumb hovering over her name on my phone.

I huffed frustratedly and slammed it onto the counter. I wouldn't call her, but I was sure that if she called again, I wouldn't be able to ignore her calls for a fifth time.

With that thought in mind, I drowned another shot and decided that now would be the best time to work out, as the last time I did was a couple of days ago. Quickly changing out of my work clothes and into a sweatpants and vest, I throw my gym towel over one of my shoulders and make my way down to the my home gym.

'~~~~︱~~~~'

A loud banging on the door causes me to hastily walk towards the door and throw it open, taking the towel and dabbing some of the sweat from my forehead that formed after two hours of vigorous exercise.

I was breathing heavily as I stared at Demiah on the other side of the door, slightly surprised to see her in my presence but not letting it show on my expression.

I leaned against the frame of the door. I had lost the vest that I was wearing about an hour ago after the wet material had began to stick to my chest uncomfortably.

I watched as Demiah's determined expression quickly faltered as her eyes trailed down my body, drinking me up. The corner of my lips tugged up at the corners, but I quickly hid it. I needed to remain angry at her.

Angry that she possibly used me as a way to get even with her shitty husband. But even as this was enough reason for me to be furious with her, I knew that if she simply asked again, I wouldn't be able to deny her. Because looking at her eyes finally trail up to my face to stare at me, I knew that I could never deny her anything, especially if it meant spending another night with her.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" I interrupt her gawking. She snaps out of her trance, her eyes now fully focused on my expression, her head rising high in the air.

"You weren't picking my calls so I just thought..." She faltered in her sentence. I shook my head in disbelief, turning around to walk back inside of my house.

With the door now widely opened, she followed me inside, closing it behind her. I sit on the edge of the counter, "Correction, I was declining your calls. There's a difference," I quipped. I folded my arms across my chest, my eyes finding it hard to resist scanning her from head to toe. With vibrant blonde hair in an updo and cool, brown eyes that I loved staring into, Demiah was dressed in a black, silky rumper and silver 4-inch heels. She matched it with a small silver— what I assumed to be designer— bag. I could just eat her up. Again. "So you were worried about me, hm?" I asked.

She walked closer, her confidence faltering, "Well... of course."

I rubbed my stubble, "You didn't seem too worried about me after you took what you needed from me a few days ago, did you not?" And God did I want her to take it again. I was determined to act like a fucking ass, just to let her be aware of her actions, and possibly challenge me. But what I didn't expect was for her gaze to drop to the floor and for her to bite her bottom lip in shame, rubbing her forearm.

Her saddened state was a punch in the chest for me and I suddenly felt like the biggest fuck up in the world. My body couldn't resist moving forward to stand closer to her so that I was in her presence, reaching out to grab her arm. I wasn't cut out for this. It was simply not possible for me to treat her like shit, it just simply wasn't.

I was close enough that I had to crane my neck down to look at her, "Look Demiah..."

She stopped me as she gazed up at me, "No, no, you're right," She admits. "Whether my intentions were right or not, I shouldn't have... come to you after finding out what happened." She clarifies. She swallows shortly, "It was a mistake."

I stumble back a bit, my hand dropping to my sides. I knew that wanting her to admit her actions would come with certain consequences, but I didn't expect it to be a mistake. I wanted to be mad but I knew that I didn't have the right. Saying that it was a mistake in this instance could be seen as an apology, as she was admitting that it was a mistake to sleep with me. I just didn't expect it to hit me this hard.

"In fact, that's what I wanted to talk to you about," She clarifies. "I think it's best if we... keep a doctor and patient relationship."

I try to stop, I really do, but nothing could've stopped the laughter that bubbled from my lips, "I like that. That's funny— hilarious even. Kudos," I wipe a literal tear that was at the corner of my eye as I leaned against the corner and watched as Demiah looked at me confused.

"Did I say something funny?" She scowls, her fist balled.

"I think I made it clear when I said, 'that's funny', did I not?" My expression was one of sarcasm and this only fueled her angry. "I don't know what kind of doctor you think I am, but I don't go around fucking my patients."

She sneers, and if it didn't look so goddamn sexy, "I think it's best if I leave," She turns on her heel.

I shrug my shoulders, watching her walk away from me, "I'll call you," I smile.

She didn't look back, "And I won't answer," She yelled.

"Yes, you will," I quip. "Yes, you will," I say much softer, particularly to myself.

As I hear her indicate her absence with the slam of the door, I go to the fridge to look for something to eat, the chilliness hitting my bare chest. I shake my head as I straighten my posture, a large smile on my face. 

Doctor-patient relationship. If that wasn't the greatest fuckery I've heard then I didn't know what was.

'~~~~ │~~~~'

Word Count: 2612

Just a taste of Daddy's POV

~TheOfficialSinner