A little peek inside…

CHAPTER 1

“Doctor Black…”

I spin at the sound of my name.

It still sounds surreal…Doctor Alexandria Black.

This is what all those years of working my ass off have come to. I’m literally living my dream.

I’m a doctor, scared shitless, and terrified nearly as often as I’m thrilled to be where I am today. Every day I get up and I want to pinch myself. I still feel like a kid.

It’s not as glamorous as it sounds though.

I’m low man (woman) on the totem pole.

Who am I kidding?

I’m a surgical intern, pond scum, who’s a few months into five years of residency. I do all the scut work and shit jobs with a perpetual smile on my face.

“Yes?”

I wander over to the nurse’s station and put my phone in the pocket of my lab coat.

Sally is one of the nice nurses. She lifts the receiver of the phone toward me. “It’s Doctor Greyson.” She says his name with reverence, full of awe and something else, something wanton.

I get it.

Doctor Greyson is a legend at this hospital. Chief of Surgery, a cardiothoracic surgeon, he happens to be the attending for the general surgery service this week.

He’s insanely hot. Tall, built and cut out of a men’s modeling magazine. He paid for medical school with his looks.

I’m up to my eyes in debt. He made it through showing off his assets in underwear ads and is debt free. I’m still trying to dig up those pictures, even if I’ve been forbidden from doing so. I think there’s more to that story.

He’s the hot doctor every woman dreams about and wants to land in her bed.

I may have something to say about that considering we’re fucking each other’s brains out.

Every. Damn. Night.

When he’s not operating, he spends most of his time in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit. It makes sleeping with each other a little easier when we’re not constantly crossing paths at the hospital. Except for this week. This week, he’s my attending and I see him all the damn time.

I have to wait another year before I’m allowed to take care of patients in the CICU. Right now, I’m doing scut work, gathering patient data for rounds and basically running around like a chicken with my head cut off.

It may not look like it, but I’m generally well put together. This job is not just intense. It’s insane.

And I’m fucking the infamous Dr. Greyson; a hot as sin, kinky as fuck, sex god.

All the nurses, and the few female physicians, need drool rags when Daniel’s around. That’s sexist of me. Not all nurses are female. I’ve seen some of the male nurses turn their heads. The male residents are too terrified to do anything but pray they don’t shit their pants in front of the world-renowned Dr. Greyson.

The shithead knows it too, and while he doesn’t flirt with any of the women at work, his smile is a devastating force of nature. The man is a natural lady killer.

He’s also uncompromising and demanding of the physicians training under him. There’s a reason we all stand a little taller and pucker our assholes when he walks on the unit. He’s terrifying.

And I’m not immune to that fear.

My hand shakes a little as I reach for the phone. Sally thinks I’m nervous because it’s Dr. Greyson, Chief of Staff, but I’m actually thinking about how he shoved his dick down my throat at three in the morning after punishing me for hitting the snooze button.

To him, that’s sacrilege. He doesn’t believe in slacking off like that. The alarm goes off. You get up. Your ass is out of bed. Since I didn’t get my ass out of bed, he spent time on that ass with his hand, reminding me who it belongs to and whose rules I agreed to follow.

Shocker.

They aren’t my rules.

I squirm a little and rub where it’s still achingly sore.

After the spanking, he had me on my knees for the dick swallowing event. Spoiler alert, I still have tonsils. He found them immediately, and knocked them around until he shot his load down my throat.

The shaking of my hand has nothing to do with fear over the fact the Chief of Surgery is calling for me, Dr. Black, the lowly intern. That’s what Sally thinks, and I’m going to let her continue to think that rather than what’s really going on in my head.

We’re not going to talk about the profound aching between my legs. I can still feel him there and a slight flush creeps into my cheeks. The heat is radiating off my face and I pray Sally misinterprets the flushing for the fear she thinks I should be feeling as I speak with Daniel.

He’s as uncompromising in bed as he is at work. I like that.

There’s a reason we, the residents, fear him. We’re all quaking in our boots.

My T’s have been crossed. My I’s dotted. I’m ready for whatever cross-examination he throws at me during rounds.

There’s no way in hell I’m going to give him reason to be disappointed in my work. I’ll have to face the embarrassment here, in front of my fellow interns and residents, then face his disappointment later tonight when we’re alone.

Let’s just say there are a hundred reasons for my hands to shake.

I pull the receiver to my ear. “Yes, Sir?”

Those two words send a flash of heat through my body. I get to call him Sir at work, because he’s practically godlike here. I can get away with it without anyone raising an eyebrow.

In his house? Subject to his uncompromising rules? Beneath his strict oversight? That word brings a rush of heat between my legs every damn time.

“Doctor Black…” His rich, cultured voice rolls through the earpiece, sending shivers of electricity up my arm. “How would you like to scrub in on a case today?”

How would I like to scrub in?

Sign me the fuck up.

There are precious few opportunities for an intern to scrub in on a surgical case. That privilege is reserved for after our second year of residency. Not that it doesn’t happen in the first year as an intern. It’s just exceedingly rare.

Interns are scut monkeys.

Daniel is probably one of the few attending surgeons who makes a point of inviting interns into his operating room.

Honestly, it’s not like we do much. I’ll be lucky to touch the patient and will probably spend a few hours scrubbed in with my hands clasped tight to my chest while I try to touch nothing and not accidentally break the sterile field.

I will not fuck this up.

But maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe I’ll get to hold a retractor or throw a stitch. An intern can dream.

I’m not hoping for much. It takes a lot of patience to get to where I am. I’m well versed in delayed gratification.

Well, almost. I’m fortunate Daniel doesn’t use delayed gratification when it comes to orgasms. He hands those out to me like they’re fucking candy. And I love that about him.

He may be strict and demanding, but he’s a generous lover.

He also has a wicked hand. The bruises on my ass have bruises after this morning’s punishment. But that’s why we’re a perfect match. He loves dishing it out and I love suffering for his pleasure.

If Sally only knew I spent most of last evening tied to Daniel’s bed, my throat raw from screaming as he paddled my ass then fucked me senseless, she would flip the fuck out.

I think my body actually levitated at one point.

At this point, the question might arise as to whether I’m receiving special favors because I’m fucking the boss, but he asks an intern every time he goes to the operating room to scrub in with him.

Yesterday, it was Jack. The day before, Paul got to go. There are six of us on service and today is my lucky day. I jump on it while Sally silently asks me What’s he saying?

All the nurses are infatuated with Daniel. I have to remember to think of him as Dr. Greyson while at work. I silently chastise myself for that.

We can’t afford any slip ups.

“Yes, Sir, t-t-that would be amazing. T-t-thank you.” I’m not above stammering like an idiot. It’s a freaking honor to scrub in with the amazing Dr. Greyson. It’s also pretty damn incredible sleeping in his bed along with all the other kinky shit we do.

If Sally only knew the things Dr. Greyson was into…I let that thought trail off and cover the mouthpiece. I whisper to Sally. “O.R.” Then I point to my chest and allow a genuine smile to fill my face.

I’m going to be on cloud nine for the rest of the day.

Cloud nine lasts until rounds begin. That’s when I discover the seventh level of hell.

We do rounds before scheduled surgeries. It’s the first time I’ll get to scrub into a case with Daniel, and he rakes me over the coals when I present my first patient.

We’re standing in a gaggle of interns, residents, nurses, and pharmacists while he grills me. An error in judgment can prove fatal.

“What’s your differential?” His commanding tone sends a shiver down my spine.

It’s not a good shiver, but rather a whole-body shudder as I wrack my brain about the possible conditions which can cause Mr. Park’s post op fevers.

There’s something about W’s. My eyes squeeze shut as I fumble for the answer.

“Wind. Water. Walking. Wound and Wonder drugs?” Those refer to the most common causes of post-operative fever. I’m missing something, but that seems to satisfy him.

“Correct. Expound.”

Shit. He’s not letting me get away with an easy answer.

I launch into the timeframe where each of those are a concern after surgery, stumbling over myself. Fortunately, Jack opens his trap, getting the timing of Water wrong.

It refers to patients getting urinary tract infections and he steps in a pile of shit in his eagerness to show off and show me up.

Daniel lets Jack dig his grave, then pounces. I stand there taking a breather and glance at the notes I made about appropriate antibiotics to consider while Daniel rips Jack a new one.

The other interns around me are silent. They’re both happy to have Jack handed his ass and struck speechless by the calm, even tones Daniel uses to tear someone apart.

It’s one of the reasons he’s such a good Dom.

I’ve never seen Daniel lose control.

Well, strike that. I have seen what happens when he allows himself to release his restraint and let go. I’m on the receiving end of that nearly every night.

But that’s sex.

This is not.

We’re learning how to save lives and Daniel is the best teacher I’ve ever had.

He spends the next ten minutes tearing Jack apart, then the following five minutes building Jack’s self-esteem back up. I love how he does that.

We’re ripped apart until we feel like the lowest of the low, like we’re going to kill the next patient we touch, then he takes all the broken pieces and puts them back together again.

Our job is intense and he doesn’t want any of us to forget the trust put into our hands.

I can’t help it. I’m star-struck.

And I’m so glad Jack put his foot in it. I didn’t know the times when each of the W’s happened. Now, I’ll never forget.

We finish rounds three hours later and Daniel places his hand on the back of my arm. The touch is electric and my body’s response is instantaneous.

“You excited to scrub in?” He’s a tall man and he leans down to speak to me. He doesn’t have to and he doesn’t do that with anyone but me.

His fingers tighten on my arm. This is the most intimate we’ll be at work. It’s the most touching he’ll allow, but he stoops down and speaks into my ear with a voice full of gravel and sex appeal.

“I’m looking forward to having you under my control.” In his operating room, he’s king.

And my legs are officially jelly.

I swallow thickly. “Thank you for the opportunity. It’s an honor.”

“You handled yourself well during rounds, Alexa.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

His grip tightens. He can’t touch me without getting hard. Our connection is that strong.

“I would suggest you study your management of post op fevers. I’d hate what happened to Jack happen to you. Not all attendings are as forgiving as me.”

He’s the worst of them all.

But a shiver worms its way down my spine. My nerves riot and the fine hairs of my arms stand on end.

He lowers his voice to a whisper. “I think it’s something we’ll address tonight, baby girl.”

Baby girl.

Be still my beating heart but I’m toast when he uses his nickname for me.

He’s my boss at work and an uncompromising taskmaster at night. I’ll be grilled about post op fevers tonight, and if I fail to get it perfect, my ass will pay.

At home, he’s my professor and I’m his naughty school girl.

I can’t wait for the lessons to begin.