Devon's smile faded the second the door shut behind him.
By the time he reached the elevator, his expression had hardened, tight around the mouth, eyes narrowed. Not angry. Just… processing. Efficiently, like any other problem he intended to solve.
He pressed the button.
The elevator came with a soft ding. He stepped inside, hit the button for the lower floors, and leaned against the rail, jaw clenched, mind already turning. Not with panic. Not with disgust. Just strategy. Like he was scrubbing in.
The doors had almost closed when a hand with pale fingers slipped in.
The elevator jolted slightly as it stopped.
A nurse stepped in, catching her breath from the rush. Young. Early twenties. Cute, at first glance. But as she moved, there was a coil to her motion, like it was practiced and even intentional. As if she wanted to be watched.
Her ponytail was slipping, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed in a way that didn't read as exertion. Her name tag read Nurse Lina.
"Sorry," she exhaled, brushing hair from her cheek as the doors closed. "Didn't think I'd make it."
Devon didn't respond. Just glanced at her, then shifted his gaze.
She turned to press the button, even though he already had, her body brushing his arm as she did. A little too close for casual.
She saw the flicker in his jaw.
"…Dr. Devon?" she said. She already knew his name. Everyone did.
Still nothing came from him.
She stepped closer again, closing the last sliver of space between them. Not brushing him. Pressing, just barely, but enough to let him feel the soft heat of her body through the thin layer of her scrubs.
"Some of us," she continued, her voice silk, "were looking forward to your arrival. Some of us more than others."
Now he could smell her. Faintly floral, warm skin, something humid and clean and undeniably feminine.
She tilted her head back, pretending to examine the panel of floor numbers, but it made her neck arch just enough to expose the soft underside of her jaw. Her pulse beat there, delicate and fast.
"You look better than even on camera," she said with a sly smile.
"They said all you cared about was medicine and your patients," she whispered, her lips brushing near his jaw. "Is that true?"
Devon didn't move. But his breathing changed subtly. She heard it and flashed a smile at him.
"I wondered what would happen if someone touched you anyway."
Her hand drifted to his hip. Barely there. Then lower, her fingertips brushing against the waistband of his scrub pants.
Still no reaction.
So she pressed further, fingers tracing the seam, until she found what she was looking for:
He was hard.
Very hard.
The weight of it strained against the fabric, thick and long and hot beneath her touch. Her palm molded to the bulge, fingers flexing lightly, testing his shape through the thin material.
A sharp inhale flared from his nose.
She tilted her head, lips curling.
"Well," she murmured, "someone's not as cold as they pretend to be."
Her hand stayed there, cupping him like he was already hers. She dragged her palm over the length of him, slow and deliberate, thumb teasing the head through the fabric, feeling how he twitched in her grasp.
The elevator hummed on.
He didn't stop her. Neither did he touch her.
But she could feel it in his body, the tension wound tight beneath the surface, like a wire about to snap.
She leaned in, lips brushing his ear, voice dark and sinful.
"Do you know what I was thinking the moment I heard you were joining us here?"
She tightened her grip on his cock just slightly, drawing a slow circle with her thumb. "I was thinking about what it would feel like… to drop to my knees in front of you."
She licked her lower lip, eyes half-lidded as she watched his jaw clench.
"How deep you'd go. How fast I'd make you cum. And how little I'd let you say about it afterward."
Still, he didn't move. But his cock throbbed in her hand.
She smirked.
Her free hand rose, slowly sliding beneath the hem of her scrub top, revealing the soft slope of her stomach, then higher, to her bra, which she dragged upward just enough to free one breast. She palmed it shamelessly, fingers brushing her nipple, then tweaking it with a soft gasp that was entirely intentional.
"I'm wet, Doctor," she said, her voice smoky, dripping. "I want you."
Her fingers moved from his cock to her own waistband, dipping just beneath it, and then pulling her hand out again.
"I want you buried down my throat," she whispered.
Then Devon finally looked at her.
Not just glanced. Looked.
It wasn't casual. It wasn't polite.
It started at her throat, where a single vein beat lightly beneath pale skin. Traced down the gentle slope of her collarbone, then to the curve of her chest beneath the fabric, where her breath had started to come just a little faster. The scrub top hung loose, but not enough to hide the soft outline of her form beneath.
His eyes continued down. Past her waist, to the barely there hem of her shorts. When she moved her body, the fabric tugged a little higher, revealing the clean stretch of her thighs.
Her legs were long, pale and smooth. He noted the contrast of them against the muted blue of the uniform. He imagined, just briefly, what her skin would feel like under his hand.
She was petite, yes. But there was nothing small about the way she made him feel in that moment.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Lust flickered behind his eyes. He didn't smile, didn't speak, but his stare burned like touch, slow and deliberate, as though undressing her thought by thought.
Heat flared under her skin, sharp and disorienting. Her body stiffened before she could stop it.
The elevator chimed. Neither of them moved at first.
As the elevator doors slid open, neither of them moved.
Lina shifted, drew in a breath, ready to move
But Devon moved first.
His hand reached out, calmly and without warning, pressing the elevator buttons again. The doors slid closed once more with a quiet hiss, sealing them in.
Lina blinked.
"Wait, I" she started, her voice faltering.
Before the rest of her words could form, Devon stepped into her space and kissed her.
No hesitation.
His mouth found hers like it had been meant to all along firm, hungry, and all-consuming. One hand braced the back of her neck, the other moved down, gripping her waist, pulling her against the hard line of his body.
Lina gasped against his mouth, lips parting instinctively. The kiss deepened. His tongue brushed hers, slow but deliberate, commanding a response and she gave it without thinking.
She felt herself melt into him. Her arms, previously frozen, rose almost on their own and landed on his shoulders, fingers gripping his coat for balance, for contact, for more.
Then his hand slid lower.
Past her hip.
Over the curve of her scrub bottoms.
He gripped her ass, firm and full-handed, and she moaned softly into his mouth more shocked by the sound that escaped her than the act itself.
"This is really happening," She muttered.
Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. Heat bloomed between her thighs, her legs turning unsteady, her breath stuttering as he pressed her back against the mirrored elevator wall.
When he finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, parted. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Her eyes searched his face confused, aroused, and wide with something she couldn't name.
"Dr. Devon" she breathed, barely more than a whimper. Her voice trembled, like she couldn't tell if she was asking him to stop or begging him not to.
She shivered. Her entire body burned with tension. Every nerve lit up.
"Devon"
His hand slid under the hem of her top, palm flat against the bare skin of her lower back. His fingers were cold, clinical but his touch was anything but detached. He massaged her ass again, harder now, and her hips rocked forward without meaning to.
She bit her lip.
She was soaked.
Her pulse hammered through her chest, every part of her tuned to him, begging for more. For contact. For release. For anything.
All she knew was his mouth, his hands, his heat. She wanted him more than ever.
Suddenly, Devon moved his hand to her shoulder, applying just the slightest pressure downward. She barely hesitated before she went to her knees.
The cool floor pressed against her skin. Her heart thudded in her throat as she looked up at him. Devon towered above her, composed, like this was inevitable.
Devon slipped his hand into his scrub pant and took his cock out. Upon sight, Lina's breath hitched, her lips parting unconsciously as her wide eyes locked on him.
She swallowed hard. How the hell was that supposed to fit?
The thought lingered in her mind. It hovered just in front of her mouth, and all she could do was stare.
Devon gripped himself at the base and let the tip glide along her lips, teasing her. "Open your mouth," he commanded.
Her lips parted. Her eyes flicked up to meet his. Heat rushed to her cheeks as he guided her forward with a hand at the back of her head.
She wrapped her mouth around his cock slowly.
"Good girl."