MISUNDERSTANDINGS Jack Abbot x Resident!Reader
Summary: Having a crush on your attending was never a good idea, but hard to ignore when he was praising and complimenting you at every turn. Jack thought he had you figured out, but when he overheard not one, but two conversations he began to question everything. Maybe what he thought was you being receptive to his flirting was just the wishful thinking of an old man after all. One evening and an accidental run-in at the bar changed all that.
Warnings: no like actual smut, but talking and fantasizing about sex (p in v, oral, masturbation, spanking, hair pulling), implied age gap, fem!reader, dom!jack, praise kink, subtle to overt dom/sub tones, alcohol, swearing, pet names, one mention/allusion to jack x reader x robby, Whitaker catching strays (sorry), no use of y/n, no beta; we die like men
Words: 6.6k
a/n: i've been sitting on this silly little idea for like three months and finally finished it, still don't know if i like it lol. potential for part 2 with the actual smut if people want it.
Jack Abbot felt like a creepy, old man most days, but especially so when you started working at the ED. Somehow, almost involuntary, his eyes always found you in silent observation as you moved from patient to patient. At first he justified it by telling himself it was simply to see how capable you were, he’d do that to all new residents. That’s what a good attending was supposed to do — be attentive and watch out for the people around and under him. At first it was only in the moments when his shift ended and yours started, but then you started covering the occasional night shift. He had even more of a reason to watch you. Now he told himself it was because you were so good at your job, it was a pleasure to do so. A good student. He saw how well you took to his instructions. How having a clear and steady voice guide you through difficult procedures calmed you down enough to where you performed them perfectly. How you beamed at him with pride when you were done with a quiet, almost bashful, “thank you, Dr. Abbot.”
He found himself pulled into your orbit more often than not and even went out of his way to tell you how good you were doing. A sprinkle of muttered praises thrown your way or whispered into your ear when he just happened to be standing close enough to do so.
Good job.
Atta girl.
That’s it.
You did so well.
It was just a total and complete accident his voice tended to drop down to a rough gravel when he did it. It wasn’t like he was trying to seduce you. Because that was completely unethical and would get him sent to HR immediately. He did however enjoy your reactions. How you would look up at him through your lashes, a proud smile on your face, sometimes accompanied by a blush that you tried to hide by quickly averting your gaze. It was absolutely adorable. As a completely platonic and objective observation.
After all, you were a young thing, and Jack was way too old for you. It didn’t matter that he kept his eyes glued to your ass when you walked past him with your hips swaying from left to right or your cleavage when you leaned over the desk to gossip with one of the nurses and just so happened to push your boobs up while doing it. Sometimes he even thought you were doing it on purpose, wanting him to notice you. There was just no way you were that oblivious. But it didn’t matter because he reasoned with himself that it had to be his overactive imagination running wild, seeing things he wanted to see.
“Hey, Dennis,” you walked up to where he was standing and bumped your shoulder into his.
“What’s up?” He asked, barely looking up from the chart he was typing.
“What are you doing later?” You lived with Dennis and Trinity and usually you were all tired after the long shifts and went to bed early, but you had a project you needed to work on and you could use somebody holding you accountable.
“Nothing really, maybe watch a movie and go to bed early,” he glanced at you for a second, those big eyes of his scanning your face. “Why are you asking?” After a few months of working and living together, he knew you well enough to tell you had ulterior motives.
“How would you feel about engaging in some parallel play with me?” You bit your bottom lip and wiggling your eyebrows at him. It wasn’t your fault you worked better with someone next to you. It helped you to stay focused and in the zone. Dennis hesitated, pausing his typing with a sigh.
“Come on, please,” you whined, grabbing his arm and shaking him slightly.
“Okay, fine,” he relented and you gave his arm another squeeze.
“Thank you!” You called before practically skipping away.
How would you feel about engaging in some parallel play with me?
That sentence practically jumped out at Jack. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, he just happened to be standing close enough to where he overheard pretty much the whole conversation. He didn’t know this was what the kids were calling mutual masturbation nowadays, but if there was one thing he had learned with all the youngsters around, it was how creative they got with language. It had definitely surprised him, though, that you were asking for sexual favors so plainly and directly. At work, no less. You didn’t even lower your voice.
He also didn’t think you were sleeping with anyone, because he never heard you mentioned anything in that direction, but it was probably also a good dose of wishful thinking on his end. However, he especially did not think it would be with the personification of a wet blanket that was Dennis Whitaker. Jack really thought he had you figured out with the way you preened under his praise and the way you had looked at him when he had rocked up in his SWAT uniform that one time. All wide eyed and like you were ready to drop to your knees for him right then and there. It had thrilled him to know you shared the same, or rather matching, proclivities. Jack usually almost had a sixths sense for that type of thing. Of course you could be a switch. Or maybe Whitaker possessed some deeply buried dominance he reserved for the bedroom only, though that seemed to be unlikely. Either way, it stirred something in Jack he did not yet dare call jealousy. It just caught him off guard, was all.
It couldn’t be anything serious between you and the boy with how you were still undressing him with your eyes whenever you though Jack wasn’t looking. It was not at all subtle and would definitely border on cheating if you were in a serious relationship.
So maybe you had your sexual needs temporarily filled by someone else? It was only human. Jack had only wished it had been him you had asked, especially because Whitaker didn’t even look that excited. You practically had to beg him.
Jack would never make you beg or— wait, no, that’s not true. A few scenarios came to mind where he would most certainly enjoy seeing you beg. You, on his lap, grinding your wet pussy against his covered bulge or his thigh, asking or downright pleading him to fuck you and make you come. Or on your knees, desperate to have his cock down your throat. Or maybe he would make you come so many times, reducing you to a completely overstimulated, shaking mess until the only thing you could do was beg him to stop.
Jack took a deep breath, ignoring the twitch of his cock. Okay, yeah, maybe Whitaker had his own reasons why he made you work for his attention and time, which sent another surge of not-jealousy through him as he subtly adjusted himself in his scrub pants and tried to force those thoughts of you away.
The week after, Jack just so happened to overhear another conversation of yours. He tried not to make a habit out of it, but his entire being was so tuned into your voice, he couldn’t help but perk up and listen.
“Ew! That’s disgusting!” Your voice rang clear as day from the break room as he made his way towards it and he had to bite back the smirk that threatened to split his lips. He wondered what it was that got this reaction out of you. He had seen you elbow deep in an open chest cavity and there was that one time he walked in on you trying to retrieve something out of gentleman's rectum that had business being up there. He knew you weren’t squeamish, but you seemed very passionate and firm in your opinion on whatever it was you were talking about now and Jack was intrigued to find out. You were talking to Santos, though he couldn’t hear what she was saying as her mouth was half-full with whatever she was eating, effectively muffling her words.
“I don’t like ‘em old and wrinkly and soft,” you added and the disdain was dripping from your words, wiping Jack’s budding grin right off his face. With your back turned, he couldn’t see your face and gauge if you were joking or being serious, but somehow those words hit him hard because he had a feeling you might’ve been talking about him. What else could it possible be? Santos had eyes like a hawk, and her observational skills were sometimes frightening. You two lived together with Whitaker and if there was one person who knew if you were into him, Santos would be it.
As if on cue, she seemed to notice him come into the break room and gave him a greeting nod which made you turn around, checking to see who she was greeting.
“Oh, hi, Dr. Abbot,” you said with a small smile he grew to enjoy very much. It wasn’t the polite smile you gave patients, or the big, bright smile that showed almost all your teeth when laughing with some of the other residents or nurses. No, this one was softer. It lit you face up from within and seemed to be exclusively reserved for him.
“What are you two talking about?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking, he just needed to know. Would you flounder for an excuse or tell him straight up? You were about to open your mouth when Santos spoke up for you.
“Nothing important,” she said quickly, crossing her arms in front of her chest as her eyes flitted from him to you and back to him, one brow arched. You were going to say something when you were interrupted again by Dana opening the door to the break room.
“Two GSW victims coming in five minutes,” she announced and both you and Santos shot up, pushing yourselves past him and out the door, leaving him standing with the realization that you were most likely talking about him with the way Santos quickly covered it up.
He wouldn’t exactly call himself soft, though he wasn’t as ripped as he once was as a younger man. Compared to you, he was old and wrinkly. As it turned out, you apparently didn’t like that. Jack desperately needed to get a grip on whatever misplaced desires he had for you, since he now had confirmation that not only were you sleeping with someone else, but you also definitely didn’t want him in the way he wanted you. It sucked, but he had been through worse.
Maybe he needed to get a stiff drink or two on his next day off and find someone else to soothe the sting you unknowingly left behind.
A Friday night off was almost unheard of since you started working at the PTMC, especially one that coincides with your friend’s. If you weren’t working, you were asleep on the couch by 9PM, too tired to even make it to your bed. It was Trinity’s idea to go to a bar for some karaoke.
“I need to exorcise some demons through yell-singing and you’re coming with me,” she had told you in a tone that bartered no argument, though she was pretty tight lipped about the reason for it. You assumed she was in an off-phase with Dr. Garcia again or maybe Langdon had pissed her off to an extra extent that day. Either way, you could use a fun night out and some drinks and an excuse to wear that new little black dress, but you would leave the karaoke to Trin.
That’s why you were now sitting on a stool at the bar of a semi-crowded, dark dive joint, nursing a drink and occasionally cheering and hollering for her as she was up on the stage delivering a devastating rendition of “Bitch” by Meredith Brooks. This bar was close to the hospital and a popular spot for people to get a drink after their shift. You let your eyes wander across the crowd of people around you, spotting a few familiar faces, when your eyes got caught on a particularly familiar figure. The salt-and-pepper hair stood out among the younger crowd, but even if his hair still had their darker shade, you would’ve been able to recognize Jack Abbot immediately. It was like your body could feel whenever he was close, drawn to him by an invisible thread spun of your desire and want for the attending. You knew it was useless and ridiculous to have the hots for the silver fox attending everyone was crushing on, but you just couldn’t help it when he doled out praise and compliments in equal measure like a stranger handing out candy, trying to lure children into a van. There was on way you couldn’t fall for it. It was quite unfair. And you knew it wasn’t just limited to you. Dr. Abbot was a natural flirt — he probably didn’t even notice the way your breath faltered every time he called you a good girl whenever you succeeded in doing a new procedure or got a difficult diagnosis correct.
He was probably only coming over right now, because it was the polite thing to do and for no other reason. You took a big gulp of your drink for some liquid courage. Seeing him in the ED was one thing. You were in your element there, confident, knew what you were doing. Out here in the wild was a different story. Roles and hierarchy weren’t as defined outside of the hospital.
“They let residents have Friday night’s off now?” he spoke with his typical half-smirk when he was close enough that you could hear him over Trinity’s singing.
“Dr. Abbot!” you greeted with a warm smile. “Trust me, I am as surprised as you are.”
“Please, call me Jack,” he said as he leaned against the bar. “We’re not at work.” He winked, the picture of confidence and leisure as he looked at you and it sent flutters down your spine, your whole body bristling with tension at his mere proximity. His eyes trailed up and down your body, not in an overt way, but you noticed how he took you in, very glad you wore that short dress now.
“Are you here with Santos?” He motioned towards the stage where she was still singing her heart out, but with a different song now.
“Yeah, she needed to blow off some steam and I needed the drink,” you laughed, shrugging slightly and reaching for your drink only to notice that it was almost empty.
“Would you like another?”
“Uh, yeah,” you said, reaching for your purse on top of the bar to fish out a couple more dollars when Jack placed his hand on yours for just a second, stopping your search for cash. His fingers were warm on your skin and the touch way too short for your liking, still it sent heat through our body.
“I got it.”
A small, innocent touch and simple words like that should not have such an effect on you, but it seemed like things were different when Jack Abbot was involved.
The bartender came up and you told him your order and Jack handed over a crisp bill from a money clip, adding a generous tip on top.
“Thank you,” you said with a genuine smile as you peered at him through your lashes with a sudden sense of shyness at the situation you had found yourself in. It was just too easy to imagine yourself on a date with him, ever the gentleman. Though you did wonder what he was like behind closed doors. It was not the first time that thought had popped into your head. You imagined him to be a generous lover, but you weren’t sure if he would be gentle or rough. Maybe a mix of both, making you do depraved things on your knees while he was cooing sweet words and praises from above.
“Whitaker not with you?” Jack asked, ripping you out of your thoughts.
“Nah, he didn’t feel like going out. We were up late last night and the boy needs his beauty sleep.” Everyone knew you three lived together, so the question didn’t strike you as odd. Jack nodded and his brows furrowed for a second.
“You know, I didn’t think that you and him…” he trailed off and you didn’t quite understand what he was getting at.
“What do you mean?”
“I just didn’t think he was your type is all,” he said with a shrug and it still didn’t quite make sense what he was saying. Maybe the alcohol was getting to you, making your brain fuzzy.
“He’s not.”
“But you’re still sleeping with him?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. Dennis was great. You loved him as a friend, but you would never sleep with him. There was absolutely zero sexual attraction.
“I am not sleeping with him! We just live together, I thought everyone knew that,” you explained and Jack suddenly had a look on his face you couldn’t read.
“Wait, is someone spreading rumors that we are sleeping together?” You needed to get to the bottom of this and to know where he got that idea from.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, that was out of line. I only have one foot left and still managed to put it in my mouth.” Jack took a swig of his drink and you let out another laugh.
“No, come on. Tell me who you got it from! I won’t make a big deal out of it, I’m just curious now.”
Jack rubbed his hands over his face and sighed.
“I overheard a conversation between you two the other day… something about mutual masturbation or ‘engaging in parallel play’ as you put it?” He added quotation marks with his fingers as he said the words you uttered to Dennis a few days ago.
You let the words ring out before you burst into another round of laughter with your head thrown back. This whole situation was hysterical, especially with alcohol in the mix. Talking about your sex life — or the lack thereof — with your attending and the hilarious misunderstanding had you laugh until tears were in your eyes and one was rolling down your cheek.
“Jack,” you said when you had calmed down enough to be able to speak again. “Parallel play is like an ADHD thing where it’s easier to work with someone else in the room to keep you in the zone and accountable. It has absolutely nothing to do with sex or masturbation.”
“Oh,” was the only thing he said in reply and you could’ve sworn there was a blush dusting his cheeks or maybe it was the lights in the bar changing from green to blue to red. “I just thought it was new slang kids use nowadays.”
“It’s not and there is absolutely nothing going on between Dennis and I,” you said, “but do you often make up fantasies of your residents sleeping together?” You decided to tease him some more, feeling emboldened by the alcohol in your veins. Jack let out a chuckle with a nod that told him he graciously accepted your ribbing.
“Not usually, but like I said, it surprised me. Didn’t think you were into the whole sensitive farm boy-spiel.”
Jack hadn’t meant to bring up the Whitaker-thing. He was just going to have a polite chat with you, but when you mentioned staying up late with him the night before, it almost just slipped out. Seems like was a good thing, because he now knew that you were in fact not sleeping with him and Jack was satisfied with the knowledge that he probably had you pegged right after all. It didn’t even bother him that you laughed in his face because of it, because he enjoyed hearing your laugh. Completely unfiltered and boisterous, the delight clear on your face. He wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.
“Oh, and you know what everyone is into?” you still teased him with mirth. “Do you learn that as an attending or is that solely a Jack Abbot thing?”
You were feeling brave now, he could tell, and Jack liked it; he liked your smart mouth and witty remarks. He wondered what it took and how long it would take to shut you up, until you were nothing but a mindless, babbling mess under him. And what other things that sharp tongue of yours was capable of.
“I do when the other person makes it so obvious.” He leaned in even closer, lowering his voice. “I see how you thrive when you’re told what to do, how you take to it. You light up when I tell you how well you did on a procedure. I see how you blush, how your breath hitches and how you look up at me through your lashes—“ a smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth, ”just like you are doing now.”
Jack had been uncertain to how you felt about him with that other conversation he overheard still ringing in his ears. Maybe he really was too old for you, but maybe — just maybe — it was also another misunderstanding. Because with how you were looking at him now, with something he would call certifiable fuck-me-eyes… it must have been.
“I don’t…” You thought you were being subtle and a part of you still wanted to deny it, fight those very accurate allegations. The other part of you was thrilled that Jack read those signs correctly. “I didn’t think it was that obvious,” you grumbled more to yourself than him, dropping your gaze down to the ground, but it got a small laugh out of Jack regardless.
“It’s not. Unless, of course, you know what you’re looking for,” he reassured, placing his forefinger under your chin to make you look at him again. The music faded into the background and all you could see and feel was Jack.
“And it seems like you do?” You asked rhetorically.
“I’ve been around the block a few times, kid.” His gaze was intense with those dark hazel eyes, enforcing the eye contact by still holding on to your chin — his thumb barely grazed along your bottom lip in a tender touch. You had to fight the urge of letting your tongue dart out, getting a small taste of him. It was enough for the liquid heat in your belly to start swirling again, moving farther south. You felt the desperate need to clench your thighs together, but you knew Jack would undoubtedly notice. Then again, would that be such a bad thing?
“Am I interrupting something?” It seems like you didn’t get to decide because suddenly Trinity’s voice was right next to you ear instead of serenading you in the background.
You moved back slightly as Jack let his hand drop, moving in the opposite direction to get more distance between you again. Trinity’s skin was glistening with sweat from standing in the spotlights on stage and the performance she had put on as she was eying you both intently, gaze flicking back and forth.
“Ah, no. I had something in my eye and Jack— I mean, Dr. Abbot was just taking a look for me,” you tried to lie your way out of the situation, trying to ignore the smirk tugging at Jack’s lips that you could see out of the corner of your eyes.
“Uh-huh, sure,” she said with raised brows, “that’s exactly what that looked like,” she added quieter and with a large dose of sarcasm.
“I should probably head out, leave you two to enjoy your night,” Jack then spoke up and you could blatantly hear the amusement in his voice. He pushed off the bar, took out his money clip again and pulled out a fifty dollar bill, sliding it towards you along the bar top.
“Next drink’s on me. For intruding,” he said with a wink. You opened your mouth to refuse when that look in his eye changed to something firmer, more stern, brows pulled together over darkened eyes. It had you shut your mouth immediately, teeth clacking with the force of how quickly you did.
That ever-present smirk appeared again, together with an almost imperceptible nod.
“Have a good night,” he said, before making his way through the crowd. You kept your eyes on him until he disappeared through the door.
“I don’t know what the hell that was, but if he keeps paying for our drinks then I can maybe get on board with it,” Trinity said, taking the spot Jack was just in. She wasted no time to grab the money, waving at the bartender. You didn’t know how to answer, because you also weren’t quite sure what exactly had just happened between you and Jack.
Trin got her drink and gulped half of it down in one go, clearly parched after singing. She leaned her back against the bar and looked at you.
“I just hope you know what you’re doing. He’s your attending,” she said.
“Garcia is an attending, too.”
“Yeah, but she’s not my attending, it’s different. There’s a degree of separation between us that you don’t have.”
You knew she had a point, you had switched to nightshifts a while ago because they were short staffed with the occasional double or dayshift in between, but you loved it. If things with Jack got messy, it could jeopardize things and it would be an HR nightmare either way.
“You’re right,” you said with a sigh.
The rest of the night was fun, but you mind was elsewhere. Daydreaming during your shifts about Jack Abbot was one thing, but the moment you just shared made things real. There was something there and you had not imagined it. If Trinity had not interrupted, he might’ve even kissed you, at least that’s what you hoped he was going to do.
The next days, all your thoughts revolved around him, accompanied by a need you tried to sate by using your hands and your vibrator, anything really, to take the edge off. The way he looked at you — the way his hand felt touching your chin, his thumb on your bottom lip — kept playing on repeat. You were ready to drop to your knees right there in that crowded bar if that’s what he would’ve asked you to do. You would’ve let him drag you to the bathroom or the dark ally outside. All he would’ve had to do was push your dress up over your hips and pull your panties to the side and you were always bad at being quiet, so he’d have to clasp a hand over your mouth, unless you wanted to get caught having your attending rut into you from behind.
When Monday rolled around, you were completely and utterly incapable of even looking at Jack without all those fantasies popping into your head. That’s why you did the extremely mature thing and tried to avoid him at all costs. It was exhausting, always looking around to see if he was near and you were glad when the end of shift rolled around with a quiet morning lull. It was the perfect to watch the sunrise and get some fresh air alone.
Jack knew you were avoiding him. Somehow you managed to evade him all night. Whichever room he entered, you ran out of. You used to be like magnets, drawn together, but now it felt like someone had flipped his pole and it kept pushing you away if ever he got too close.
It left him — once again — plagued with worry that he had misread something. He had to catch you and talk to you to clear the air. It was almost the end of the shift and he saw you get in the elevator. Sometimes you went up to the roof after a long shift to watch the sunrise, just like him, having met up there a handful of times and he decided to follow. You’d have to jump off the roof to escape him there.
Jack saw you standing against the railing, face turned towards the sun with your eyes closed, letting the rays warm your skin. He tried to be quiet, but you turned your head when you heard footsteps and your eyes widened when you saw it was him. You took two steps in his direction.
“I was just leaving,” you said with your head bowed, trying to sneak past him. Jack took a step to the side, effectively making you run into him. You collided with his chest and he grabbed your upper arms to steady you.
“Can we talk for a second?” he asked and you let out a sigh, nodding, but still not meeting his eyes. Jack let go of your arms and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I’m sorry,” he started and that got you to finally look at him.
“What are you sorry for?” You pulled your brows together in confusion.
“Clearly I’ve misread something and made you uncomfortable.”
“Jack—“ you started but he held up a hand, telling you to stop and let him finish speaking.
“I overstepped the other night and for that I want to apologize. It’s no excuse, but I guess I just got a little carried away and swept up in the moment. We can blame it on the alcohol and forget about the whole thing or if you want to report it to HR then that is also absolutely within your rights and I won’t stop you,” Jack said as you just stared at him. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in your place of work. You’re a great doctor and I don’t want to be the thing standing in the way of your developing career.”
You had avoided Jack because, quite frankly, you didn’t know what to say or how to act around him, too riled up by your horny thoughts. But now you guilt wrecked through you because apparently he thought that he had crossed some line.
He did, but it was a line you wanted him to cross. Desperately.
“Jack, you didn’t do anything wrong and you definitely didn’t misread anything or overstep,” you swallowed hard.
“Then why have you been avoiding me? And don’t lie and tell me you haven’t,” he asked, his eyes boring into yours. You bit your bottom lip, trying to think of a way to tell him what had been going on inside your head without embarrassing yourself completely.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” you confessed on a breath, “I can’t stop thinking about the things I would’ve let you do to me that night. All the things I want you to do.”
Something in his eyes changed. They went from worried and concerned, to something a softer but no less dark and intense.
“And that’s a bad thing?” There was a trace of amusement in his voice, lining the edges of his words.
“I don’t think residents should fantasize on company dime about getting fucked by their attending in a dark ally,” you mumbled. Jack took a small step closer until his chest was almost touching yours. You had to crane your neck slightly to keep the eye-contact even though you wanted to look away, because Jack was always intense with it.
“Is that what you wanted me to do?” he asked. One hand came up to softly cradle the side of your face, thumb caressing the curve of your cheekbone. “Drag you into the ally behind the bar —where anyone could see us — push you up against the rough brick and slide my hand under that short, pretty little dress of yours. To slide my fingers into your pussy and make you come on my hand?”
You managed a small nod and Jack moved in closer, his face coming down, making the tip of his nose brushing against yours softly before angling his head slightly until his lips hovered right above yours.
“Or did you want me to just bend you over and fuck you? You were probably already wet when we were still inside and just talking, right? So I’m sure you could’ve taken it.” His voice was low and rough. You could feel the vibration of it in his chest, pressed against yours, and his breath fanning your face as he spoke. Again, you only managed to nod in affirmation.
“Use your words,” he demanded and you took a shaky breath.
“Yes. Wanted you to fuck me,” your voice was barely above a whisper but he seemed to be satisfied with it. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingertips sliding into your hair there. Jack’s other hand settled on the small of your back, keeping you pressed against him.
“Good girl,” he praised and the words had you weak in the knees, glad he was there to steady you and keep you upright. ”What else?”
Jack clearly enjoyed this game of his. Enjoyed seeing you flushed and embarrassed, making you say all those things you imagined, probably as punishment for avoiding him all day.
“Wanted to get on my knees for you,” you admitted and that got a reaction out of him in the form of a short, low groan deep in his chest.
“And what do you want me to do now?” he asked as if the answer wasn’t obvious.
“Kiss me, please,” you whispered and it was dangerously close to a whine, but you didn’t even care if it made you sound desperate. You were. It was what you’ve been thinking about since Friday but had fantasized about the possibility of it for weeks, maybe even months.
Jack didn’t make you wait any longer, rewarding you by finally closing that last gap until his lips were on yours. He didn’t rush it, though, his lips slid against yours slowly and precisely, using the grip of is hand on your neck to angle your head to deepen the kiss. His tongue gliding over your lips first, then into your mouth and moving against yours. Exploring, memorizing. Your hands settled on his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his black scrubs to pull him closer for more. A small chuckle came rumbling from him and you could feel him smirk against your lips as he continued kissing you. You could feel his hard cock pressing against you. It felt big and you had half a mind to reach down for confirmation, wanting to wrap your fingers around it, imagining the stretch of it inside of you.
Jack didn’t know for how long you were kissing, but he knew it wasn’t enough — wasn’t sure if it would ever be enough. The sun was up now, the light of it visible even through his closed eyes as he was still kissing you and Jack knew you had to get back downstairs for hand-off’s. He also needed to get his raging hard-on, in the unforgivable thin fabric of his scrubs, under control before he was able to be around other people again without HR getting involved for workplace harassment.
Reluctantly he pulled back, dragged his lips over your cheek and down your jaw, placing a few more tender kisses along the column of your neck, feeling the tender skin there, imagining all the marks he could leave there, branding you as his.
When he disconnect his lips from you completely, you let out a small whine in protest.
“As much as I would love to keep kissing you up here, we should probably get down,” Jack said, both hands cradling your face now and he watched you stick out your bottom lip in a cute little pout. He gave you another peck.
“Robby is undoubtedly going to come up here if I’m not down in time for hand-off’s, so unless you want him to join…” he trailed off, clearly joking, but when he saw you bite your bottom lip again and avoid eye contact, he couldn’t help but smirk and raise a brow when you looked at him again.
“Noted,” he said amused. “Seems like old and wrinkly does it for you after all.”
“Never said it didn’t,” you replied, smiling up at him.
“You did,” he countered and when you pulled your brows together in confusion, he elaborated, “that conversation you had with Santos? In the staff room? I remember you very passionately saying that you ‘don’t like them old and wrinkly’,” he recounted. Just like at the bar, you straight up laughed in his face.
“Jack, you seriously need to work on your eavesdropping,” you laughed some more, “I was talking about grapes. I am a very passionate crunchy grape enthusiast. I don’t like those old and wrinkly.”
Jack joined in your laughter, slightly embarrassed again to have gotten another thing so wrong.
“Seems like I do need to work on it,” he admitted, “or at least the jumping to conclusions part.”
You got on your tiptoes to reach his lips for another kiss. You still didn’t want to get back to work, but he was right. You sighed and stepped back, needing the distance to stop yourself from kissing him again.
“Give me your phone,” he said with his hand held out. You didn’t even question the demand, simply reached into your pocket, unlocked it and placed it in his open palm.
“My number,” he explained as he typed it in, “Unfortunately I have a SWAT shift after work today, but I want to take you out. On a proper date. Without the hospital or co-workers interrupting us.”
He handed your phone back and you tried not to show your slight disappointment. In your mind, he was was going to take you home after the shift ended and finally ravage you.
“Now, don’t look so disappointed. I’ll make it worth you while, don’t worry,” he said teasingly. He closed the gap between your bodies again and this time when he slid his hand into your neck and up into your hair, he grabbed a fistful of it rightly. His voice dropped lower, his eyes darkening in tandem, “I can take you out on a date and treat you like a slut — feed you my cock for desert, have you choke on it until you’re desperate and drooling and then I’ll fuck you nice and hard. Or maybe I’ll put you over my knee first, spank your ass for being a needy brat until it’s all red and hot and you’re begging me to stop.”
Your head was spinning from the pictures he put into your mind and all you could do was stare at him wide-eyed in excitement, the disappointment from moments before forgotten. This time you didn’t hesitate to clench your thighs to ease the ache building there and he did notice. A self-satisfied grin on his face.
“That sound good?” He asked, loosening the grip on your hair and you nodded enthusiastically, whispering, “yeah.”
“Perfect. Then let’s go down,” Jack said and motioned for you to go first, giving your butt a love-tap as you walked past that made you squeal and laugh as you headed to the elevator together.
You had a feeling that waiting would definitely be worth it with Jack, especially with all that new material to fantasize about and tide you over until then.
