“I have a suspicion that your cock is a superhero.” My face is blank, giving him zero inkling of my actual intent.
“My cock is a superhero.” Trent has his poker face on, which only encourages me to continue this conversation further.
“Yes, I know your cock is a superhero. What's your superhero cock's name?”
“Dr. Hammer.” He's still straight-faced and doing one hell of a job at hiding his satisfaction regarding the whole superhero-cock topic.
Dr. Hammer? Really?
I mean, it's so lame yet so awesome at the same time.
“What's Dr. Hammer's superpower?” I challenge him with a quirk of my eyebrow.
“He's a take-action kind of guy. A doer, so to speak. Dr. Hammer has no qualms with thrusting himself into dirty situations, and his superpower is satisfaction. Dr. Hammer can one hundred percent ensure one hundred and ten percent of the time that he always gives satisfaction. No matter the job, no matter the task, Dr. Hammer will leave you satisfied.”
“Seriously? Did you seriously just come up with that on the fly or have you had that stocked away somewhere?”
“What can I say? I'm quick on my feet.” He finally drops the poker face and gives me a wicked grin. “Are you satisfied with Dr. Hammer's superpower?”
“Nope. I think Dr. Hammer is a fucking liar. He should be satisfying me right now and yet, there he sits, not satisfying.” I flick my wrist toward the crotch of his boxer briefs.
Trent abruptly grabs my feet, pulling my legs to the edge of the kitchen counter. He licks his lips at the sight of my legs spread open and black panties visible to his sensual gaze. I quickly smack his hands away from my thighs. “I'm kidding! I'm kidding! My vagina needs a break. You've been pounding her all day.” Trent's husky laugh vibrates from his chest as he swiftly moves his hands away from my persistent smacks.
“Just so we're clear, Dr. Hammer is going to make you pay for that little joke later.”
I laugh at his ridiculous threat. “Okay, weirdo. Give my pussy like an hour and I'll be ready for the wrath that is Dr. Hammer and his satisfying superhero cock powers.”
We continue to dig into our Chinese food, giving each other small bites here and there. I'm enjoying his company immensely. I love the easiness of our relationship. Our conversation always flows, and we seem to savor the occasional silences together. Being with Trent just seems to come natural for me. There's no pressure to be someone I'm not. No pressure to put on a perfect appearance or stress over saying the wrong things. Trent makes me feel like I can just be me…Ellen.
Taking the last bite of my chicken fried rice and swallowing it down, I tap Trent on the nose with my chopsticks and ask him a question I keep forgetting to bring up. “How old are you?”
“Thirty-four.”
“Shiiiiit, you're thirty-four?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? You say that like it's really old. I'm not old. I'm a young, hot surgeon you can't seem to keep your hands off of.” He smirks at me before standing up and cleaning up our take-out containers.
“Well…thirty-four is kind of old, but it's okay. I think your ego more than makes up for the old age and wrinkles.”
“Shut up, smartass.” His back is to me as he tosses our silverware in the kitchen sink, washing them off before placing them in the dishwasher.
“Aren't you going to ask me how old I am?”
“Twenty-eight.” He closes the dishwasher and turns towards me, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest while a smug grin consumes his face.
“Uh, how did you know how old I am? Have you been snooping through my purse? Stalking me? Following me? Which is it? Do I need to call the police?” My eyes dance with hilarity.
“I stalked you when I first started at Regency. I had to know who the hot nurse with the fuck-me heels was in Nashville.”
“What do you mean you stalked me?”
“I got your manager Shirley to dish some dirt on you. Your age, work schedule… You know, all the important stuff so I could begin my seduction of The Infamous Ellen James.”
I laugh a little at the way he says my name as if I'm some sort of enigma instead of just a boring ER nurse with a proclivity for smut novels and hot surgeons with superhero cocks.
“How in the hell did you get Nurse Ratchet to give you details about me? Did you flirt with uni-brow, Trent Hamilton?”
“Yes, yes I did, and I'm not the least bit ashamed of it. I'm blaming it all on the sexy little nurse with perfect tits and that ability to wear a twelve-inch strap-on like no one's business.”
“You're never going to let me live that one down, are you?”
“Nope, never, and it doesn't help that I snapped a picture of that slide with my phone and I can look at it whenever I want.”