All of Me Page 6

  “This morning, on rounds—”

  “Walk with me to the lounge.”

  Rowan struggled to keep pace with Galen’s long stride. It was quick but somehow never appeared hurried. She followed her around the corner into the surgeons’ lounge, where Galen cracked a bottle of water and chugged half of it.

  “Now, want to tell me what you’re talking about?” she finally said, once she’d settled into a nearby chair and stretched her legs out in front of her.

  “This morning, you asked me what the surgical indications were for an SBO. I told you I didn’t know. I lied.” Rowan wasn’t sure why she’d lied. She’d never played dumb before. She’d spent her life being the smart kid—getting picked on for reading at recess instead of playing kickball, and writing term papers for her friends in college. But this morning was different. Of course she knew the surgical indications for a small bowel obstruction. She’d studied them two dozen times. She was embarrassed and afraid to look like a showoff to Galen. And, maybe most of all, she was terrified everyone would somehow know what she’d done.

  “And how do I know you didn’t just run back to Dr. Google or ask someone?”

  “Because! I wouldn’t!” Rowan suddenly regretted proving her point. What difference did it really make if Galen knew she had all the answers?

  Galen grinned. “I’m teasing you.” She took another sip of water. “Why didn’t you speak up this morning?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. You were afraid people would think you were kissing my ass, weren’t you? And if they thought that, they might wonder how far you would go.”

  “What?” Rowan scoffed at the idea she had just decided was absolutely true. “Like anyone would think I’d—”

  “Be hot for teacher?” She smiled again and ran a hand through her hair, resting it on her neck.

  “Please. I’m not the one who was soft-pimping this morning.”

  “Soft-pimping? Did you just make that up? Because that sounds like something retired rappers do.”

  “What I mean is, you were tossing me loppers. I learned those things in my second year at Dartmouth.”

  Galen sat more upright and shifted uneasily in her chair. “Tell that to your colleagues. They apparently missed that day of class.”

  “Fine, so let’s say those weren’t necessarily gimmes.” Rowan took a step closer to Galen and put her hands on her hips. “You let me off the hook. Never in the history of pimping has anyone been let off the hook. That is soft-pimping.”

  “Okay. So it was soft. But it wasn’t because of what happened the other night.”

  “It wasn’t?” Rowan couldn’t deny the pulse of disappointment that beat through her.

  “Of course not. I’m new to this too. And I may be a Burgess by name, but the similarities stop there. Well, aside from my exceptional good looks and gifted hands.” Galen winked at her, and Rowan’s insides fought a battle between disgust and arousal.

  “Y’all are exactly alike.” Rowan heard the thick drawl from her own mouth as if it belonged to someone else and cast her gaze to the floor, once again wanting to escape the encounter before she could further humiliate herself

  “You know, Duncan…I like the accent. You shouldn’t fight it so hard. It’s kind of sexy.”

  Rowan looked at her again, the sultry blue of Galen’s eyes now ignited with the same want she’d seen immediately after they’d kissed. “I have to go.”

  And, once again, Galen let her.

  Chapter Seven

  Galen had to find Teddy. She had to find a better way to deal with the situation with Rowan. The situation, that is, being that Galen really, really, really wanted to fuck her. A million girls lived and/or worked in Boston. And she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t slept with a handful of them. But girls like Rowan didn’t come around every day. She was gorgeous. Stunning long, straight, brown hair that she usually kept up in a bun but every so often would let down and shake out, reminding Galen of one of those shampoo commercials from the ’90s. Her body was tight, proof that she was a regular runner, but curvy exactly where it needed to be. On most days, she wore scrubs, which still weren’t enough to cover her tiny waist that sat just above those thick hips that begged to be grabbed as she pulled Rowan against her.

  But what was really driving Galen crazy was that smile. It was one of those rare smiles that just made everything in the world suddenly good again. Her eyes squinted and brightened simultaneously, which made Galen want to do all kinds of inconceivable things to her. Even when Rowan wasn’t around, she found herself in a near-constant state of fantasy, dreaming about pinning Rowan up against a wall and scratching her nails down her sides and leaving tiny bite marks along the soft skin of her neck. She didn’t just want to fuck Rowan. Galen wanted to dominate her. She wanted to leave her completely changed from when she’d found her. She wanted to corrupt all the innocence left inside her. She wanted to elicit that sweet Texas drawl, pleading for more—more of Galen.

  She couldn’t think about anything else. And she wasn’t quite sure how to handle it anymore.

  “Teddy, I need you. Come to my office.” Judging by Teddy’s expression, Galen had alarmed Teddy when she found him in the lounge. Without a question, he followed her.

  “What is it, G?” He sat down in her chair, but Galen continued to pace the room.

  “I have a problem.”

  “Enough lead-up already! What’s going on?”

  “I’m desperately attracted to one of the interns.”

  Teddy stared at her for a second, then erupted in a barrage of laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” Galen pleaded, irritated by his nonchalance.

  “That’s it? You want to sleep with a first-year?” Teddy’s laughter grew until it reverberated off the walls of Galen’s office.

  “Forget it.”

  “Wait.” Teddy crossed his arms over his chest. “You already did it, didn’t you? Who was it? Who’d you take to bed? Oh, I know. Makayla Danvers. No. No, Stacy Kiebler. That girl has ‘sleep her way to the top’ written all over her.”

  “Ted, stop slut-shaming. And you’re wrong on all accounts. I didn’t sleep with anyone. And it definitely wasn’t Danvers or Kiebler. Come on.”

  “Excuse me. I didn’t know you had such high standards all of a sudden.”

  “Shut up, will you? I didn’t sleep with anyone. But I might have, sort of, already kissed someone…”

  “Who then?”

  “You’ve named two out of the three girls in the program already. Do the math.”

  “Not Jordan, right? Oh God, G, don’t tell me you’re switching teams here! And please tell me it isn’t Jordan. That guy’s a total douche. Besides, I always assumed if you were going to, ya know, with a dude, it’d be me. But—”

  “Are you kidding me right now?” Galen slapped Teddy against the side of his massive head. He gave it one good shake and appeared to have settled back into reality. “Rowan Duncan, you dumbass. I kissed Duncan. Actually, she kissed me. And I’m really offended that you went to Jordan before thinking that Rowan would ever be interested in me.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. Really. It’s just, Rowan is this nice Southern girl, and she has this boyfriend—”

  “Brian. I’m familiar.” Galen shuddered a little at the surprising bite of jealousy in her voice.

  “Besides, I thought she was kind of like, well, really straight. Even by Galen Burgess standards.”

  “Jesus Christ, do I even want to know?”

  “It’s a compliment! You walk into a room, and girls throw their panties. Sometimes even the straight ones aren’t so straight after a night with you. I’ve seen girls who’ve never so much as looked at a pair of boobs wake up from a night with you a full-blown les, totally in love, ready to lick—”

  “TEDDY!” Galen wagged a finger. “This is why you can’t get a date! First of all, no lesbian just ‘looks at a pair of boobs’ and is suddenly gay. You’re way oversimplifying
human sexuality, which is probably your first mistake. Second, it’s more than just sex. Most girls don’t just want a good orgasm, although I find that doesn’t hurt. Girls want to feel wanted, and sexy, and desirable. Oh, and please don’t ever say anything about licking things ever again. I know you’re a gentleman, buddy, but we need to work on your delivery.”

  “Sorry. I’m just a little bummed. I sort of had a little, tiny crush-type thing on Rowan. But it’s not a big deal. Jesus, you’d think your best friend being a girl, you wouldn’t have to worry about so much competition, am I right?” He laughed.

  “If I’d known I…Look, I’m obviously not going to sleep with her. I just need to figure out how to stop wanting to so damn badly. There’s got to be a way, right? Something I can do to get her out of my head?”

  “Does she know?” Teddy’s eyes held a faint sadness that Galen regretted instantly.

  “No. And she’s not going to. This can never happen. She’s my subordinate. Not only would Henry Burgess kill me, but I’d completely undermine any position of authority I’ve built here so far. I can’t afford anymore marks on my permanent record.”

  “So fuck someone else. You’ll at least get rid of some of the sexual tension, and who knows. Maybe you can shift that energy onto them and away from Rowan.”

  Sometimes, Teddy was much smarter than he looked.

  * * *

  Jen SN knocked on Galen’s office door at ten fifteen that night. The door was barely cracked, and when Galen heard Jen knock, she pushed it open with her foot and grabbed Jen by the hand, not bothering to get up out of her chair. Without speaking, she pulled Jen onto her lap until she was straddling her, her large breasts pushing against Galen’s throat. Jen could get a little loud, and it was still early enough. With the milky skin of Jen’s neck still between Galen’s teeth, she reached around Jen’s back and hit the space bar on her laptop, a low, trebly melody now wafting from the speakers.

  “I’m glad you called.” Jen’s breath came in near gasps as Galen guided her upright off her lap and pushed her onto the desk, sending stray papers with notes about tracheostomies and Vancomycin dosing flying through the air, seeming to make way for Jen’s tight ass you could balance a dinner plate on. Galen tugged off Jen’s scrub pants, which slid easily over her narrow hips and thin legs. She continued to kiss her hard, making sure to own her mouth as she did. Although, truth be told, Galen generally tried to avoid kissing Jen—or most women, actually. Kissing was intimate. Fucking was primal. It sure was a waste though, since Galen could essentially make a girl cum just by running her tongue across her lips. Still, tonight, she was willing to try kissing. Hell, she was willing to try anything to squelch the seemingly endless need to have her hands all over Rowan instead.

  As Galen let her mouth drift down Jen’s thighs, her mind once again shifted back to her newest subordinate. Rowan’s body was the antithesis of Jen’s. If Jen was tall and lean, with long, thin legs that seemed to go forever and narrow, almost boyish hips, Rowan was all curves. And not in the way Galen typically thought of curves, either. Her shoulders were slim, and her breasts were the perfect accompaniment to her petite frame. Her waist was small, with a stomach flat from pounding so many miles on the pavement. But below the waist, she was all curves and valleys and what Galen could only imagine was flesh as soft as crushed velvet and as sweet as strawberries. Rowan had jokingly once told her she was “built like a farm girl.” Galen wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was really fucking into it.

  “What’s wrong?” Jen weaved her fingers through tufts of Galen’s hair, coaxing her head closer to the spot between her thighs.

  “Huh?” Galen emerged momentarily, a sense of panic flooding her arousal. Stop thinking about Duncan, damn it! “Nothing. I’m fantastic.”

  Jen didn’t seem concerned enough to ask any more questions, and Galen went back to nipping at the crevasse where Jen’s legs began. She grabbed Jen’s thighs with both hands, holding her with a ferocity and command that made Jen groan through clenched teeth. “Goddamn it, Galen. Will you just fuck me already?”

  Galen grinned, in spite of the fact her mouth was very nearly occupied. “Ask me again.” She loved to be begged. It got her off like nothing else. Her need for control in every aspect of her life definitely did not exclude the bedroom.

  “Please. I’m begging you to fuck me. I need you.”

  Galen dipped her tongue into the void of Jen’s belly button and slid one finger inside her, reveling in the feeling of Jen’s muscles clenching desperately around her.

  “Fuck me, Dr. Burgess. God, yes.”

  Galen hadn’t always been a fan of her title. She’d certainly gotten used to it over the last six years. But it wasn’t until that moment, hearing it from Jen’s pleading lips, that she loved it. She slid another finger inside her. And for the first time in a week, the balance of utter control settled back over her.

  * * *

  Avoiding Galen had actually been easier than Rowan thought. The gods of scheduling had been kind to her, and she’d spent that week of her residency largely in clinic, and operating with some of the less-senior residents, or with Dr. Peterson. She’d seen Galen in passing—in the lounge, the cafeteria, the locker rooms. But she hadn’t gone looking for her. And Galen hadn’t seemed to either. That night, though, she had to confront her.

  The next morning, they were scheduled together to do a breast biopsy and a reversal of an augmentation gone wrong many years ago. A plastic surgeon or, at the very least, a specialized breast surgeon usually performed this type of operation, but Rowan had developed a particular interest in women’s health, and Galen just so happened to be the resident doing her plastics rotation that week. So much for the gods of scheduling shining on her. She walked toward Galen’s office sometime around eleven pm, knowing she would be there. Galen would never go home before midnight. Never. It was no wonder Galen had to have people look after Suzie so often.

  As she approached, she noted the door to the office was mostly closed, just ajar enough to allow a small splinter of light, letting her know someone was probably inside. It was odd, she thought. Galen’s door was always open. The one time she found it shut, Galen was taking a very rare nap inside and was probably afraid the sight would undermine her position as the diehard who didn’t need sleep. Maybe she was napping again?

  Music was coming from inside. Rowan stood at the door and listened—Fitz and the Tantrums. Nice choice. She heard another sound though—something a little quieter, but definitely not made by Fitz or any of the Tantrums. It was the low-pitched, guttural moans of a woman clearly deeply engrossed in whatever was going on in there. Galen? No. Reluctantly, Rowan admitted to herself she’d wondered more than once what Galen sounded like when she was making love. And this definitely was not it.

  “Jesus…” The owner of the voice was doing anything but praying. Rowan stood frozen, involuntarily squinting as if it would somehow help her listen harder. “Fuck, Galen. Do not stop. Ever. Jesus, fuck…”

  “OKAY!” Rowan hadn’t realized she’d nearly shouted the word as she spun around on her heels and rushed to cover her ears. The sickening sensation of her entire gut dropping to the floor nearly knocked her over. All at once, she wanted to vomit and open the door and punch whoever was crying out for Galen like that. Rowan wasn’t a violent person, in any way. She refused to kill even spiders, instead placing them in a drinking glass and carefully releasing them back into the patch of dying grass outside her apartment. But something visceral had just happened inside her. And it made her want to take out whatever woman was in Galen’s office right now.

  Alarmed by her own completely overblown reaction, Rowan took off down the hall and as far away from Galen’s corner of the hospital as she could get.

  * * *

  “All ready for this?” The next morning, Galen had once again managed to stealthily encroach while Rowan sat in the surgeon’s lounge reviewing her patient’s chart.

  “Ready? Oh, for the case. Yes.”
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  “Here. I brought you this.” Galen slid a cup of coffee in front of her, her arm resting against Rowan’s just long enough to make Rowan’s face burn. “Figured you’d have been up all night reading up on breast augs and tram flaps and anything else you could get your hands on.”

  Or I was up all night because I couldn’t stop thinking about the religious experience you were clearly giving someone in your office last night. “Thanks.” She took a sip of the coffee, hoping it might help relieve some of the pressure that had been tumbling around inside her all morning. “It’s sweet. And light. You remembered.”

  “Of course I did. What good am I if I can’t remember your coffee order?” Galen winked and pulled out the chair beside her, sitting so close their shoulders were nearly touching. Did Galen have any idea she’d been privy to her little tryst last night? Would she even care? Still, she did find it sort of, a little, tiny bit charming that Galen had learned how she took her coffee.

  “How was your night last night?” Rowan couldn’t believe she was capable of being so blunt. Something about being around Galen made all her rules fly out every nearby window.

  “Quiet.”

  “Really? I sort of thought otherwise…” Oh my God! Why can’t you shut up already?

  Galen looked at her quizzically, until a clear understanding painted her telling face.

  “Something you want to ask me, Duncan?” She smiled her devilish, lothario smile that Rowan hated. It was starkly different from the way she’d smiled on the roof of the hospital the other night. It was the smile of a cocky, sociopathic womanizer who had nothing to lose and fed off the hearts of innocent girls. So, maybe that was a little extreme. And as much as she hated that crooked, self-satisfied grin, she was also strangely attracted to it. Galen embodied confidence and power and a complete lack-of-damns given. It was annoying. But also annoyingly sexy.