“Rookie. Let me walk you home.” Ethan catches Oona’s elbow as she moves to brush past him. There’s a look in his eye that makes her think her knees will be hitting the confession box soon, praying for her sins.
For I’m sure about to commit a sin tonight, so help me Mary Mother of God. Instead of answering right away, Oona drops her gaze, biting her lower lip, and then looks back at Ramsey. “Are you worried about me, Doctor Ramsey?”
He shakes his head. “I couldn’t help but overhear that you were walking home tonight. I always find a walk is good to clear the head. And since we’re headed in the same direction…”
Oona bites back a snort, choosing instead to tilt her head, one hand on her hip as she looks up at him. “We are? Funny, I didn’t know you lived in Cambridge.” She laughs, shaking her bright head. “Go on, tell me another one!”
Ramsay frowns, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “You shouldn’t be walking alone around Boston at night, Rookie. If you haven’t seen the kinds of cases that come into the ER on the night of a full moon, I can certainly make sure you’re scheduled into the rotation.”
Oona shakes her head. She can imagine, and too well: how many times did she have to patch up Eamonn, Sully, and the rest of the Dead Rabbits? “Stabbings, shootings, and some girl named Tami-Lynn screaming about how she caught her man Mickey up to his ears in a thot from Dot til she stabbed him with a coffee stir stick from Dunk’s.” Oona pops her brows up and down at Ethan. “She stabbed him ten times.”
The furrow between Ethan’s brows deepens, and Oona wishes she could smooth it out, that she could tell him not to be afraid of her, that she’s still the same Kierney, the same little idiot whoose dreams are bigger than the whole damn city of Boston. But sometimes, when the moon rises full and orange over the Back Bay, Oona the Intern takes off her white coat and wanders the streets until dawn, always getting on the Red Line at Charles, but never quite making it past the fork between North Quincy and Savin Hill.
“Rookie, you okay?” Oona looks down and realizes Ethan’s hand is on her arm. “You looked like…”
She shakes herself mentally, and gives a little half-shrug. “Sure, go on and walk me home then. Since you’re so hellbent on it and all.”
Ethan swallows hard, looking around, and then leans in, his stubble brushing across her ear. Oona can’t help it, she shivers deliciously. “Damn it, Rookie, why are you making this harder than it has to be? We can talk about Patient X.”
Oona lifts a brow, walking her fingernails up his chest. “If you’re sure that’s all you want to talk to me about, Dr Ramsey.” He swallows, hard. “Let me just change. Meet you out front in, say, fifteen? You can buy me a drink and then we can talkall you want.”
•••
Talking is the last thing on Ethan’s mind when Kierney comes out of the building. All thoughts flee out of his head and come to rest somewhere in the vicinity of her breasts, even though he’s a grown man and not a horny teenage boy. “You… you’re not wearing your coat, I mean you’re not wearing your scrubs?”
Kierney flips her red hair, sending a cloud of coconut cream into the air. “Hardly.” She waves a hand over her tank top and shorts. “You got a problem with that, Doc?”
Ethan restrains the urge to cover her up with his jacket, especially when he gets an eyeful of her tank top.
“Come on, I know a place we can go where no one we know will overhear us.”
Who the hell is this creature, and what happened to mild-mannered Kierney? Ethan finds himself utterly mystified, and maybe that’s why he follows her. She’s a complication you don’t need, man.
They hop on the T and head south. Ethan isn’t paying attention to the stops, but to the line of Kierney’s collarbone, freckles dusting her pale skin. He wants her so badly he can almost taste it, and every time her bare leg brushes his he wishes that he could tear off his clothes and press her up against the window of the subway car, skin to skin and damn the staph infection.
“See something you like?” Kierney raises a brow at him. She traces her collarbone with one finger unconsciously, there’s a small scar there, and Ethan leans back with his hands laced behind his head, his legs spread apart.
“Where did you get that scar?” He bites back a groan as she takes his hand, pressing his fingertips to it. “Rookie, I shouldn’t –”
Kierney’s eyes sparkle with devilish amusement. “We’re not in the North End anymore, Dr Ramsey. You can touch this scar or any other…” she trails his fingers across her skin, smooth as velvet, until she comes to a scar on her arm. “All you want.”
Her arm. That’s safe territory, but it doesn’t feel safe, not even in this crowded subway car filled with people on their phones, reading books, or staring off into space. They’re as alone as if they were in the supply closet together at Edenbrook. Which is to say, not alone enough. “What I want…” Ethan’s pulse races as he traces the scar with his thumb, making slow circles over the silvery line. “I can’t.”
“You can’t want it, or you don’t? And it’s from a bullet. That’s all.” She falls back against the seat, but she doesn’t pull away. “It just grazed me.”
Ethan’s first instinct is to take Kierney into his arms, but he shoves it down. “What do you mean a bullet?!” His voice comes out louder than he means it to, and a few people look up, trying to act as if they’re not listening in. “Rookie, you said something about a drink?” He is unable to stop himself from brushing her ear with his lips, and he feels her quiver at his touch.You have no idea how much I want you.
“Wicked. Let’s get off at…” She bites her lip, looking away. “Next stop. JFK. I know a place.”
•••
She’d almost said Field’s Corner. Oona can hear the names in her head. Dot Ave. Let’s go to Boyle’s. Bring your kid sister along, Eamonn. You think she can keep up? Shut the fuck up, Sully. She’s not for you.
The bar she finally takes him to is some little hole in the wall with the best vodka this side of the bay, and Ramsey orders scotch. Typical.
“You have a problem with this?” He raises his glass, flashing his brows at her and grinning. Ethan, away from the hospital, is a man she could love, Oona thinks.
Shut the fuck up, Oona Mary Kierney. She downs her third shot, and then takes Ethan’s hand. “You wanna see my best scar?”
Ethan doesn’t protest as Oona pulls him into the bathroom, ignoring the line. As soon as the door closes, he spins her around, pressing her up against the door, his tongue tracing the scar on her collarbone. She moans, feeling heat pool between her thighs. Ethan’s hands cup her ass, and he groans as she grinds against his thigh, cupping her breasts in his hands. “I want you so damn much.”
“It’s right here.” Oona can’t believe she’s being so bold, but she does it anyway, guiding his hand over her shorts, right along the seam. “Clit ring. I don’t wear it anymore.”
“And it left a scar?” He’s breathing heavily, his voice a low growl. “I need to inspect that. Doctor’s orders.”
“Yes, Doctor.” Oona squirms as Ramsey begins easing her shorts down, his eyes locked on hers.
He cups her sex in his big hand. “You’re an infuriating woman, did you know that? You should have come to me right away about this instead of trying to deal with it on your own.” He ghosts his fingertips across the cotton fabric, his voice a husky growl. “It’s a good thing I’m the best at what I do. Now tell me how you heal internal scar tissue, Rookie.” His fingers sweep lightly over the fabric of her underwear again, his pupils expanding as a rush of heat pools between her thighs. “Clinically speaking.”
“Deep massage?” Oona raises a brow suggestively, and Ramsey shakes his head.
“And have you performed a lot of… deep massage… on this particular spot?” His fingers press against her clit, and then he’s easing down her underwear. “I’m going to have to perform a through review on your method, Rookie.” His hands spread her thighs wide apart, his eyes locked on hers. “Any swelling?”
Oona reaches down between her legs. Her clit is erect, slippery with her juices. “Very, Doctor.”
“Mmm. How about other symptoms?” Ramsey’s voice has taken on a stern quality, and he covers her hand with his own. Their fingers lace together, massaging her clit with firm, circular strokes. “It must have been hard, dealing with that on your own.” He grunts as she cups his hard length through his jeans.
“Actually, I have been having more symptoms, Doctor. My nipples get hard when I perform… massage… on my clit. Look.”
“That’s called a warning sign, Rookie.” Ethan’s thigh moves between her legs, and then he’s moving their fingers faster. “You’d better take that bra off and let me have a look.”
Oona pulls her shirt down and Ramsey sucks one nipple into his mouth, dragging it between his teeth. She makes a noise, somewhere between a gasp and a strangled cry, and then she’s grinding against his thigh, their interlaced fingers rubbing her clit. Just as she’s about to come, Ramsey pulls his hand away, trailing hot kisses up her jawline and kissing her long and deep.
“You have no idea how much I want you.” His voice is rough and ragged with lust, so quiet she isn’t sure she’s quite heard him correctly. “If you’ll allow me?” He pushes two fingers inside of her, all the way to the knuckle. “With a case like this, I recommend advanced techniques.” He drops to his knees, sucking her clit into his mouth, and she gasps, gripping the back of his head and arching her hips forward. Ramsey responds by licking her clit with firm, even strokes, up and down, up and down, pumping his fingers in and out of her, slightly curled and hitting her g-spot.
“Ethan… Oh my god!” Oona inhales jerkily as he throws one of her legs over his shoulder, cupping her thigh. She can feel her walls tightening around his fingers again, cresting the surge, riding it to the top.
“Don’t worry, Rookie. I’m going to demonstrate my best technique now.” Ramsey’s stubble scrapes her inner thigh, and he begins alternating swirling his tongue around her clit with sucking and licking it. “I want you to call me if this happens again.”
“Ethan!” Oona’s hips buck against his face, and he throws one of her legs over his shoulder. her fingers pinching her nipples as she begins to come, his fingers pumping faster and faster in and out of her until she comes with a strangled cry, his fingers buried deep inside of her. “Ethan… Ethan!”
He stands, his beard glistening with her juices, wiping off his face. Oona feels very self-conscious as Ethan washes up and she pulls on her clothing. “What’s the diagnosis, Doctor?”
Ethan catches her eye in the mirror, trying not to smile. “The important thing is, we caught it early. I think it’s too soon to say, but if it’s frequently massaged it should heal up properly.”
“And how many times a day should that be? In case you didn’t know, I am in training at a prestigious teaching hospital…” she walks her fingers up the buttons of his shirt. “…and I barely have time for anything, let alone deep massage.”
“Doctor’s orders, Rookie,” Ramsay says, and silences her with a kiss.