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"She's just bringing Harold back from Mae's room," Lor, the nurse from the day before, told me as I walked in.
"Thought Auggs was exaggerating about her."
"Not at all. But Harold has a bad heart, and needs to not get, you know, overstimulated," she said, raising her brows.
"If I had to go out, I think while with a woman I was into would be a good way to go."
"You men are all the same," she accused.
"Shameless," I agreed.
"Oh, hey," Auggie said, pulling to a stop with Harold and his wheelchair. "What are you doing here?"
"Bringing you back your car," I told her, twirling her keychain around on my finger. "But you have to give me a ride back."
"What's he got that I don't?" Harold asked, turning to look at Auggie. "He can't even grow a proper beard," he added, reaching up to run a hand down his undeniably impressive white beard.
"I know, right?" Auggie asked, tsking her tongue. "You're definitely the handsomest man in any room," she added. "Oh, there's your girl," she said, smiling over at a tall, skinny nurse with wheat-blonde hair. Harold wheeled himself over to the new nurse, shamelessly hitting on her. "Alright. Hand wash. Then we can go," Auggie said, walking over toward the restroom. "Why did Huck send you? He usually likes to do the delivery, so he can nag me about how much work he's had to do on this car."
"He and the guys have some work to do tonight."
We went down the elevator in silence as she pulled out her phone, answering a few texts.
"Big plans tonight?"
"I was actually cancelling them."
"Bad day?" I asked, and not just for conversation. Nope. I actually gave a shit. Damnit. "That lady..."
"She's still hanging on. Her family is finally going to come in to say goodbye. But no. It was a pretty decent day. Except the staff meeting. But there were cookies, so I can't complain too much."
"Then why are you cancelling your plans?"
"I have new plans."
"Anything good?"
"Depends."
"On?"
"If you are sufficiently rested and hydrated," she told me as we stepped into the lobby, shooting me a wicked look as we separated to move around a group standing there.
"About that—" I started as we stepped outside.
"Nope."
"Nope, what?"
"Nope, we're not doing that conversation again. We already had that conversation."
"Prior to," I reminded her.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize there was a mandatory post-coital conversation," she drawled, rolling her eyes at me as we walked down the lot.
"Coital?" I asked, lips twitching.
"Seemed more medical. But we can call it a post-fuck talk if you are more comfortable with that..."
"Look, Auggie, I think we should stop here."
"Christ, not this 'being noble' crap again."
"More like it's probably smart to end things before they get... complicated."
"There's nothing complicated. We like fucking each other. And eating. Which reminds me, I need to do a grocery pick-up on the way home. I needed to restock the essentials, so I can make something to last a few days."
"What are you making?"
"I'm craving a good lasagna. But not the red sauce kind. A cheese and mixed vegetable one. And garlic bread. Now you're thinking about staying back with me, aren't you?" she asked as she took her keys, going over toward the driver's side.
"Maybe," I admitted, feeling my stomach grumble.
"Luckily, I don't mind trading a home-cooked meal for a couple of good orgasms. Get in. We have plans."
So we did.
And my objections?
They stayed gagged and bound in the trunk.
"Alright, now, that needs to bake for about an hour," Auggie declared, closing the oven door, tuning, slapping a hand on the counter. "And your pants are still on because..."
When a woman demanded you take off your clothes, yeah, you took off your fucking clothes.
The first time, she'd been a little more passive, receptive, letting me take the reins.
This time? She was a fucking animal, clawing at my clothes, teeth nipping, nails scratching my skin, pushing me through her apartment, forcing me down on the couch, dropping to her knees, taking me into her mouth with the enthusiasm of someone who genuinely enjoyed it.
Then she climbed on my lap and fucked me like there was a war going on and we only had a few more minutes to live.
Then she walked bare-ass naked to the kitchen, pulling the lasagna out of the oven.
"Okay. This needs to set up. Shower sex?" she suggested, making her way down the hallway, ass jiggling as she went.
With an invitation like that, who could pass up?
She did eventually slip into a pair of panties, but otherwise stood in the kitchen mostly bare, scooping out food, plating it, dropping down on the couch next to me, picking another ridiculous horror movie, then demanding more of me for dessert.
Exhausted, definitely dehydrated, I climbed out from under her sleeping body once again, slipping into my clothes, leaving her phone with her, then making my way out, not wanting to get a look from McCoy if I rolled in the next morning again.
