Branded(48)

“I know damn well you’re still driving, so don’t give me that nonsense,” I tell her. “Your car was still warm and the engine was still ticking when we pulled in.”

I raise my eyebrow at her and try to keep a stern look on my face.

She harrumphs, crossing her arms over her chest. “The Quick Mart was having a sale on TV dinners. A woman’s got to eat, you know.”

Following Brad out of the kitchen, I remind her that we’re not a taxi service before joining Phina in the open doorway of the living room. Giving her a wink, I grab her hand as we make our way down the front porch and out to the ambulance. Phina gives a wave to Jackson, who’s parked right behind the rig while I hold open the passenger door and take my time putting my hands on her ass to help push her up into her seat.

Brad jumps into the back of the ambulance while I round the front end and get behind the wheel.

While I start up the vehicle, Brad reaches through the seats to hand me the patient report card he filled out so I can call the information in to dispatch and inform them that once again, there was no medical emergency at Mrs. Ortiz’s house.

As soon as I end my call to dispatch on the radio system and finish entering the information into the computer attached to the dashboard, Phina starts laughing. “Boy, your job is full of so much excitement, I almost can’t handle it.”

Pulling away from the curb, I can’t help but laugh with her. Her happiness and laughter is almost as addicting as her attitude. “Shut your yap. I know you got hot standing there in the doorway listening to me use my ‘adult voice’ on Mrs. Ortiz.”

She continues to laugh, asking me about other calls I’ve been on in my career. As much as I don’t want someone to get hurt, I can’t help but be a little salty that our call-outs tonight involved someone who fell and couldn’t get up, a woman whose son had food poisoning and a drunk going through withdrawal who assumed he was dying. Is it too much to ask for a little gunshot wound or stabbing?

After we get back to the station, I let Brad and a few other guys disinfect the back of the ambulance, restock the supplies we used tonight and start charging all of the equipment for the next shift while I finish up some paperwork. Phina sits on the edge of my desk, crossing and uncrossing her legs while she flips through a magazine.

It’s bad enough I’ve had thoughts of that stellar blow job in my head all night long, now I have to try and concentrate on filling out these fucking performance evaluations for Brad with a clear view of Phina’s long, smooth legs that I can still feel wrapped around my waist.

A throat clears from the doorway and I guiltily look away from her legs to glare at Brad.

“Ambulance has been cleaned and stocked. I gave the outside a good scrubbing, so it’s still sitting out in the driveway drying off. The guys and I are all heading to bed. Anything you need before we turn in?”

I check my watch and realize it’s already after midnight.

“No, go ahead and turn in. As long as we don’t get any calls during the night, I’ll just see you in the morning and we can go over your review,” I tell him.

I catch him giving Phina’s bare legs an appreciative glance and it’s my turn to clear my throat in irritation.

He still doesn’t stop staring and Phina chuckles.

“Brad, go to bed before I shove my fist up your ass,” I warn him.

He finally looks away in embarrassment before scurrying off down the hall.

“Awww, go easy on the kid. He’s kind of cute,” she tells me with a laugh, pushing herself off my desk to slide easily onto my lap.

My hand runs up the inside of her thigh and I graze my fingertips over the lace of her underwear that covers her sex.

“If he’s cute, what am I?” I ask quietly, letting my fingers gently play between her legs.

“You’re poking into my ass,” she smirks, wrapping her arms around my neck.

Sliding one arm under her knees and the other around her back, I quickly stand, lifting her up with me. She lets out a surprised yelp, holding onto me tighter as I head towards the door.

“I’m going to poke you somewhere else and make you take back that cute remark,” I warn her, heading down the hall and out the front door to the privacy of the now-clean ambulance.



“Lights. Off,” she growls for the second time as I slide her red lace underwear down her thighs and off her legs, shoving them into the front pocket of my pants.

I’ve got the upper half of her body strapped to the gurney in the back of the ambulance and technically, I don’t have to listen to anything she says. She’s under my control right now and there isn’t a damn thing she can do about it. Unfortunately, the florescent lights in the back of the ambulance are a bit too bright even for my liking. Leaving her side, I lean in between the two front seats and flip the switch on the dashboard, bathing the ambulance in shadowed darkness. Luckily, there’s a street lamp on the edge of the driveway shining enough light through the front windshield that I can see where I’m going.