Page 17 of Resurrect Me

I hit send and start sliding my sweatpants over my hips, slowly, deliberately. Biting my lip, I shimmy them to the floor and look through the window at his silhouette.

“Yes, but not tonight.”

I take off my pink panties, and the cool air hits me. My soaking wet thong now lies on the floor. I unclasp my bra with one hand and let that fall to the floor. I step forward.

“That’s two items,” he messages and steps forward into the light. That build. I can see his shoulders and biceps outlined under hishoodie. He’s a big dude. As big as Sol. He could easily overtake me in an alley.

“That means I get two questions,” I type.

A light goes on in the house across the street and I’m aware of the ridiculous situation I’ve put myself in. I need to wrap this up quickly. “Are you hard right now? And do you plan on hurting me?”

I watch as Aris reaches into the front of his pants and pulls out his cock. It’s fully erect. And leaning to the left a bit. It’s thick and bulging, and I can see a vein running up the side. The sight of it welcomes a gush out of my depths, and I squeeze my legs together to keep the juice from sliding down my legs or dripping onto the floor. Only Sol has ever had this effect on me.

He takes his cock in his hand and starts stroking it, slowly and confidently. The pressure is building and I’m aching for him.

“This answers your first question,” he strokes it faster. “And secondly, only if you want me to.”

I imagine myself clamping around his hard length. I run my hand over my breast and down my stomach, then slide my fingers into the slit between my legs. I’m so wet for him and my clit is pulsing. The thrill of being watched by my stalker and by potential neighbors makes me yearn for him even more. I drop my phone and grab my breast with my other hand, squeezing and pinching my nipple. I moan as I dip a finger into my pussy and slowly slide it in and out.

I stare at him, my masked admirer, as he massages his dick faster and faster. I continue to rub my clit, moaning, dipping my fingers in every so often, and the pressure is building. Warm tingles rush over me from the crown of my head to the bottoms of my feet as I release and explode into my own hand. I leanagainst the window, bracing myself, imagining him cumming at the same time. I peek through slit eyes to see my stalker retreat into the shadows. Oh, come on!

“Hey, you saw me cum, but you didn’t let me see you,” I text as I pull my pants back on and slam the blinds closed. “That’s not fair, Asshole.”

“That’s Daddy to you, Babydoll.”

I pull my t-shirt on and peek through the blinds just in time to see his shadow fade out of sight. I don’t even see his phone screen. He’s gone.

Way to cum and run.

Chapter 12

Tacy

“Tacy, your patient in one-forty-two just called and asked for another pitcher of water,” Malik says as he slips a small tube into the front pocket of his scrubs. “I just filled it for her like fifteen minutes ago. She’s got the thirst. Sorry, I’d get it for her but my patient in one-forty-five is having a fucking meltdown without her pain meds. So, I got to go handle that first.”

I smile at him, “it’s no problem, Mal. Thanks, Hun.”

Malik and I have worked together on the same hospital floor for the past five years. He’s a gem of a person and an even better nurse. He came to this country from Nigeria a decade ago with nothing but a little cash in his pocket and a dream to make a better life for himself. He’s highly dedicated to his job and to helping people. And always has my back on the floor.

I grab a bag of saline and an infusion line and head to room one-forty-two. I knock on the door and announce myself as I enter.

“Hey Miss Cindy, still thirsty?”

I sanitize my hands and approach the bed where a twenty-something woman is lying on her side, facing the window. Back towards me. She must be sleeping.

I check her IV pump. Her saline is almost gone, so I replace it with a new bag. I walk over to her bedside table and lift the pitcher. Empty. The cup beside it is empty too. Not even an ice cube left. Then I glance at Cindy’s face. Her eyes are wide open, staring at the window.

“Cindy? Are you okay?”

Something’s not right. I walk over to her and gently shake her shoulder.

“Cindy?”

She doesn’t respond. I shake her harder. Nothing. I look for movement of her chest and place my hand in front of her mouth. She’s not fucking breathing. FUCK. I check her wrist for a pulse. Nothing. I press the code blue button on the wall and shout for help.

Within seconds, the code team files in and starts working on Cindy. Doctors, respiratory therapists, and residents enter the room. There’s shouting, equipment moving in and out, doctors ordering medications to be pushed through her IV, and someone brings in the defibrillator. The respiratory therapist intubates her and…although I’ve seen people code at least a couple of dozen times before, this one gets to me. The world around me gets blurry. It’s like I’m walking through a cloud and can barely hear or understand the words coming out of my co-workers’ mouths. The world goes dark.

I wake up on my ass in the hallway, just outside room one-forty-two. Malik is crouched beside me, a box of orange juice in his hand.

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