Page 19 of Dr. Roz Harrington
Sam.
Roz’s pulse quickened as she unlocked the phone and opened the message.
Sam:“Can I see you tonight?”
Her fingers tightened around the device, the question hanging in the air between them. For a moment, she hesitated, her heart racing. She could say no. She could put the brakes on this thing before it spiraled further out of control. But even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it wasn’t going to happen.
She typed back, her fingers steady even as her chest tightened.
Roz:“Come by my place after your shift.”
The reply was delivered, then Roz set the phone down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk as she buried her face in her hands.
She was in trouble. Deep trouble. And the worst part was she didn’t want to stop.
Roz’s apartment was quiet, the soft glow of a single lamp casting long shadows against the warm, exposed brick walls. She had paced the room three times already, her mind racing with anticipation. She wasn’t used to this, this fluttering feeling in her chest, the nervous energy that made her palms sweat. She had spent years mastering her composure, keeping her emotions tucked neatly behind walls built out of necessity. But tonight, those walls felt fragile.
The faint knock on the door startled her, even though she had been waiting for it. She paused for a moment, inhaling deeply before crossing the room. Her bare feet padded softly against the wood floor, and when she reached the door, she hesitated. Her hand rested on the doorknob, and for a fleeting second, she considered turning Sam away.
But then she opened it.
Sam stood on the other side, her shoulders broad, her blonde hair slightly tousled, and her blue eyes sharp yet softer than usual. She had changed out of her uniform, her casual jacket and jeans doing little to mask the commanding presence she carried effortlessly. The sight of her made Roz’s breath hitch, her chest tightening as their eyes locked.
“Hi,” Sam said, her voice low and steady.
Roz stepped back, wordlessly inviting her in. Sam entered and the door clicked shut behind her, sealing them in the intimate stillness of the room. They stood there for a moment, a few feet apart, the air between them charged with unspoken words.
“You didn’t have to come,” Roz said finally, her voice quieter than she intended.
Sam tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “Didn’t I?”
Roz exhaled softly, her eyes dropping to Sam’s mouth before snapping back up. “I should have told you no.”
“But you didn’t.” Sam took a step closer, closing the distance. Her voice was gentle, but there was an edge to it, a confidence that made Roz’s pulse quicken. “And now, I’m here.”
Roz’s heart raced, her usual composure slipping under Sam’s steady gaze. “This is dangerous,” she said, but the words lacked conviction.
Sam’s hand brushed against Roz’s arm, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through her. “Then stop me.”
Roz didn’t move. She couldn’t. Instead, she reached for Sam, her fingers curling around the front of Sam’s jacket as she pulled her closer. Their lips met in a kiss that was anything but tentative. It was hungry, desperate, and electrifying.
Sam’s hands found Roz’s waist, pulling her flush against her body as the kiss deepened. Roz surrendered to the moment, her usual need for control evaporating under the heat of Sam’s touch. She let herself feel, really feel, without restraint or calculation.
They stumbled toward the couch, their movements uncoordinated. Roz’s hands slipped under Sam’s jacket, pushing it off her shoulders as Sam’s fingers tangled in her pink hair. When they broke apart briefly to catch their breath, Roz’s eyes locked onto Sam’s, her gaze filled with equal parts vulnerability and desire.
“You drive me insane,” Roz murmured, her voice rough.
Sam smirked, her lips brushing against Roz’s as she replied, “Right back at you.”
The room was bathed in soft lamplight, shadows flickering across the warm tones of Roz’s apartment as she sat on the edge of the couch, her gaze steady on Sam. Sam was perchednervously across from her, fidgeting slightly, her cheeks already flushed in anticipation. Roz could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands gripped the fabric of her pants, betraying her need to be guided.
Roz leaned back, her movements deliberate and calm, her eyes locking onto Sam’s. “You’ve been so pretty for me lately,” she murmured, her voice low, silky. “Haven’t you?”
Sam’s breath hitched, and she nodded, her lips parting slightly. “I… I like being pretty for you.”
Roz smirked, tilting her head as her fingers traced the edge of her glass on the table beside her. “Oh, I know you do. You’ve been more than pretty, though. Haven’t you, baby? You’ve been my slutty little princess.”
Sam’s eyes widened, and her body tensed. “I have?”
