First, I let myself sit with the question of where I’ve seen Lilith before.
If you really cared about her, you wouldn’t.
Growling, I pick up the pen from the table. The tip of it hovers over the napkin.
My ideas are in order.
Then—Jesus.
Lilith. She’s refastening her red apron, the motion pushing her tits tight against it. I can almost feel the weight of each breast in my palm. How soft they’d be.
She’d moan when I roll her nipples between my fingers, turning them hard.
Then, once she writhed and begged, I’d stop being gentle and ram my cock into her.
I’d make her mine by pumping her full of seed and getting her pregnant.
We’d be bound for life.
Fuck.
Fuck.
No. I can’t entertain these thoughts. I can’t have my dick straining against my scrubs when I might be paged at any minute.
Harold. Harold. Harold.
The asshole’s name is the cold shower I need, shoving every filthy urge aside.
The moment I start jotting my ideas into a short list, my obsession with Lilith settles into something manageable.
It lingers there, but at least I’m able to work.
So for Harold, the first round of trials will focus on response timing after loss of cardiac function.
Later, I’ll test how long he lasts without intervention once exposed to kiwi.
Thanks to the access I have to his medical files, I know all about his life-threatening allergy to the fruit.
My lips twitch because, apparently, I haven’t failed Mrs. Tobin that badly. With Lilith on my mind nonstop, I just didn’t remember going through his files or—now that I think about it—buying kiwi juice on my way home the other day, but the preparation was done all the same.
Meaning that once I have him there, I can test the new epinephrine brand the hospital has started using. Trials supporting the company’s claim, and the FDA, say it can save patients’ lives.
I need to see it for myself.
I’m about to finish writing down how many trials I’m planning to run when I smell it.
The soft scent of coffee. Hot food. Sanitizer. A hint of the fragrance I’ve learned to associate with…
Lilith.
Soon enough, I hear her footsteps padding softly nearby. From the sound of it, she isn’t too close. I crumple the napkin and shove it into my bag anyway.
When I finally lift my gaze, I see her approaching. My entire body thrums as I watch the smooth sway of her hips.
She’s getting close, close, closer.
I should tell her to stay away. To not come anywhere near me.