Radclyffe - Turn Back Time

Wynter colored slightly and shook her head. "Oh, it's nothing. It's silly."

"Can't be that much of nothing if it had you slamming cabinet doors in the middle of the night."

"It was just something that happened on rounds tonight." Wynter pushed a hand through her hair, still struggling with the remnants of discomfort. "I walked in on the chief resident in a clinch with one of the ward clerks."

"Is that all!" Mina laughed. "I thought that was standard operating procedure for residents. I told Ken before he started that he'd better keep his hands and all his other parts to himself, or else lose them."

Wynter laughed self-consciously. "You're right. It's not all that unusual. I just didn't expect it--it was embarrassing."

"So this new chief resident of yours. Is he worth a second look?"

Mina waggled her eyebrows. "Maybe you should think about taking him on."

"He's a she," Wynter said, feeling herself grow warm.

"Oh, my. That's interesting." Mina studied Wynter over the top of her mug. "And I assume the ward clerk was of the usual female variety?"

"Oh yes, very much so." Wynter's eyes glinted. "She looked like she was about to start taking bites out of Pearce any second."

"Pearce. That's the chief resident with the wandering hands?"

Wynter flashed on Pearce's hand, strong and broad, and the ward clerk's dark black hair tangled between her fingers. Such a beautiful hand, so powerful. She remembered how precisely Pearce's hands had moved in the operating room, deftly teasing at the tissues with her instruments, gently pushing aside vital organs. Good hands. Simple words that said everything.

"Wynter, honey? Where did you go?"

Wynter jumped. "Oh. Nowhere. Just tired, I guess. What were we saying?"

"Dr. Hotty Pants. Is that Pearce?"

"Yes. Pearce Rifkin. She's the chairman of surgery's daughter."

"Well, no wonder she doesn't mind having a quickie during rounds. She can probably get away with anything she wants."

"No," Wynter said immediately. "She's not like that at all. She's incredibly focused and very responsible about work. She's not taking advantage of her position."

"Sounds like you like her a little bit."

"I..." Wynter stood and carried her mug to the sink. As she rinsed it out, she said with her back to Mina, "I don't have to like her, I just have to work with her. And I'd rather not walk in on her when she's feeling up some bimbo in the storage closet."

"Uh-huh. I get that." Mina pushed herself up with one hand on the edge of the table and released a soft groan. "Maybe I should let Ken take care of his urges at the hospital. I'm about done with this baby making business."

Laughing, Wynter turned and rested her hips against the sink. "Oh yeah, I can see that." She reached out for Mina's cup. "Here, let me take that."

"So, is it the extracurricular activities that bother you or that she's gay?" Mina asked casually.

"I don't care that she's gay," Wynter said immediately. She frowned. "Why would you think I would?"

"I didn't. I just wondered."

"I couldn't care less who Pearce Rifkin sleeps with," Wynter said succinctly. "Man, woman, or beast."

Mina laughed. "Well, sometimes they are hard to tell apart."

"Oh, who cares who any of them sleep with." Wynter linked her arm through Mina's. "I'm going to go kiss my sleeping fairy princess good night."

"Just be sure you don't wake her up."

"Don't worry, I'll be careful. I have to be up at four and I'm ready to fall into bed."

"Pleasant dreams," Mina said as they parted just outside the kitchen.

Wynter hoped that she didn't dream at all.

v Pearce stretched out on the narrow bed in the small windowless on call room. She'd shed her shoes and arranged her assorted equipment on the tiny bedside stand--beepers, cell phone, wallet, and keys. She folded her arms behind her head and stared at the ceiling. She didn't expect to sleep, because she knew that within a few minutes--or certainly before an hour had passed--the phone would ring. Sometimes it would just be a question about medication or instructions for dressings, and she could take care of it without leaving the room. But her sleep would be interrupted nevertheless, and sometimes the frustration made it not worth going to sleep at all.

Other times, a nurse would call to report a change in a patient's vital signs, and Pearce would need to get up to evaluate the situation.

A temperature spike in the middle of the night could signal something as simple as incisional pain preventing the patient from taking a deep breath. Mucus and other secretions eventually accumulated in the lungs and produced a fever. The treatment was simple--voluntary coughing.

At other times, however, a sudden fever indicated a severe wound infection or, worst-case scenario, a breakdown in the area of surgical repair. In those instances, a missed diagnosis or delay in treatment for even a few hours could seriously affect the patient's well-being. Those were things she couldn't, or shouldn't, handle over the phone. Some residents tried, because night after night of no sleep and the unrelenting pace made cutting corners look inviting. But for the most part, the residents lived up to their responsibilities, and for Pearce there was never any question. She knew what needed to be done, and she did it.

She willed her body to relax, hoping that if she didn't sleep, at least she could unwind. But she tossed and turned, more keyed up than usual. The day had been a roller-coaster ride of unexpected emotions, starting when she'd first seen Wynter in the hallway. Wynter had been on her mind ever since they had parted, and why she couldn't just shrug off Wynter's anger, she didn't know. Sure, they had a little bit of history, but a lot less than she had with some women she saw every day. A few of the women she'd had short liaisons with made it pretty clear that they'd like to hook up again, but she had no problem sidestepping their attentions. She'd never even kissed Wynter, and she was totally off her stride around her. She made a disgruntled sound and squirmed around, trying to get comfortable.

"Horny," she muttered, but she didn't have the energy or inclination to do anything about it. She'd been keyed up all day, and she doubted it would take more than a minute or two, but somehow she knew that a quick orgasm was not going to settle her disquiet. She rolled onto her side and faced the wall, drawing her knees up and closing her eyes.

She must have drifted, because the soft kiss on her neck was completely unexpected. She hadn't heard anyone come in. Blinking in the dark and trying to clear her fuzzy brain, she rolled onto her back.

"Who?"

A warm wet mouth descended onto hers, a soft tongue tracing the outline of her lips. She tasted something sweet. Peppermint, maybe.

The curve of full firm breasts pressed against her side and a hand tugged at the tie on her scrub pants. Pearce slapped her hand over the fingers working at her pants.

"Hey. Andrea?"

"You expecting someone else, baby?" Andrea murmured, nipping her way along Pearce's jaw as she pushed her hand inside Pearce's scrubs. "I couldn't wait until I got off work tonight. I am so hot for you."

"How about you slow down a lit--" Pearce gasped as Andrea's fingers dove between her thighs. "Jesus!"

"I knew you'd be wet." Andrea climbed onto the bed, her skirt hiked up to her hips, and threw one leg over Pearce's thighs. She rocked hard against her leg. "I have been dying to do this. Oh, you feel so good."

The shock of the sudden assault on her already overstimulated nerve endings catapulted Pearce's body into overdrive. She wanted Andrea to stop and she wanted to come all at once. Panting, hips heaving, she groaned, "Let up on me for a minute. Just wait, will you."