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Santos first feels it when Dr. Ellis brushes up against her during an endotracheal intubation, just the ghost of something hard beneath her scrub pants, but as much as she wants to think about what’s in Ellis’ pants, she has to worry more about keeping her patient alive. The contact is so brief she thinks she’s imagined it until she feels it again. And this time, well, this time she’s sure it’s on purpose.
Ellis had done it before. Packed her strap-on, that is, under a pair of loose fitting jeans when the two of them were out for drinks with some of the night shift crew. It was like Parker had anticipated her every move and done this just to torment her. Like she knew Trinity’s hand would find its way to the warm, muscular meat of her inner thigh under the table by the last round, now that she was feeling a little tipsy, a lot handsy, and bored of hearing about how Shen’s clutch sinker caused a double play, thereby utterly defeating Presby in their last rec softball game. While Dr. Shen reenacted his victory pitch, Ellis’ hand covered her own and gingerly guided it to the loose crotch of her jeans where the bulge of her cock lay in wait, trapped still against the fabric of her briefs and the denim. Thank God Trinity’s face was already as flushed as could be from the alcohol, but she still had to clap a hand over her mouth. Thankfully her whimper was inaudible in the din of the dive bar, but Dr. Ellis still knew, though, from the way she was looking at Trinity.
She knew exactly how to push Trinity’s buttons, even the first time they’d hooked up, hell, even before then, and it always sent her coming back for more. Waiting for Parker to pay the tab was torture, she’d even tried being bratty and asking Shen if they could just Venmo him but Parker tutted at her in response, said that they were in no rush, and told her to wait patiently for the check. Santos felt like she had been patient enough. She’d tried crossing her legs to tamp down the arousal blooming between them, but it wasn’t working anymore. She knew she was soaked through her boxers already, and she knew that Ellis knew. So by the time the check was paid and the two of them made it back to Ellis’ Jeep, Trinity had decided that she was going to get what she wanted. Ellis had parked on a shadowy, neglected side street, after all, prudently avoiding a paid parking situation. Trinity could use it to her advantage.
Ellis didn’t even have time to buckle her seatbelt before Trinity clambered on top of her, groaning with relief as she ground her pelvis down onto Ellis’ lap. Before Ellis could even speak Santos took her face in both hands and kissed her hard, sinking her teeth into Ellis’ plush bottom lip and tasted the bourbon on rocks Ellis had ordered at the bar. The friction of Ellis’ cock against her, even through her denim jeans and Santos’ cargo pants, was such a relief that she felt she could come like this, from dry humping in a car like a pair of fifteen year olds. Ellis broke their kiss to coo into her ear, her hot breath on the shell of Santos’ ear making her shudder. “Look at you. You need it, don’t you, honey?”
“Yeah, of course I fucking need it when you, ah, tease me like that,” Santos panted, rolling her hips down harder. Ellis clicked her tongue, grabbed her by the hips to slow her down. “Uh-uh baby. You can be patient.” Trinity squealed as Ellis tilted her seat all the way back; She would’ve toppled over if not for Ellis’ grip on her waist. “Show me how you want it.” Eagerly, swiftly, she unbuttoned Ellis’ jeans and unzipped the fly, mouth falling open at the sight of the strap-on straining at Ellis’ briefs. With no time to waste, she pulled them down by the thick waistband. The strap-on was bigger than it felt, thank God. Santos already knew she needed to be filled to the brim. Ellis pulled Santos’ oversized cargo pants down slightly below her knees and slid her hands down to Santos’ ass, looking enthused as she snapped the string of Santos’ Calvin Klein thong. “Look at you. Got nice and pretty for me. Are you matching?” Santos nodded proudly, peeling off her t-shirt to show off her matching bralette.
She usually wasn’t a matching bra and panties girl, or a thong girl, for that matter. She’d never really been with someone she particularly cared about looking nice for. But there was something about Dr. Ellis that made her want to show off, to push herself a little further. Ellis ran her hands (God, her fucking hands, they were so strong and warm that it drove Santos crazy) up Santos’ stomach to pinch her nipples. With the grip on her ass gone, Santos could finally grind down against the strap-on. The feel of its press on her clit even through her underwear made her whimper. Though she knew her cunt was plenty wet she still spit into her palm and worked the cock up and down, looking up at Ellis while she did to watch her expression. She looked pleased, mostly, and hungry.
Ellis returned her hands to Santos’ hips to steady her as she pushed the gusset of her thong to one side and sank onto Ellis’ cock. Fuck, it was good, it always was, leaning close to her like this, Trinity’s arms wrapped around her sturdy, strong shoulders. As she bottomed out her thighs start to shake a little and she wants to bury her face into Ellis’ shoulder, collapse and let Ellis fuck into her until she comes, but she wants to watch the way Ellis looks at her even more. Her confident, steady gaze that makes her rock her hips even harder, that tells her without words: that’s it. you can do it, baby.
She’s beyond trying to stop any noises leaving her mouth. She knows Ellis likes hearing her anyway, the harsh gasp she breathed out when Ellis grabbed her ass with one hand and squeezed. Out came a moan that she would usually find embarrassing, that she’d usually try to smother, but Ellis just looked at her with a fire in her intense, dark eyes. Fuck, just that look is enough to make her–
Trinity forgot they were technically in public until a pair of LED headlights blared past the Jeep and nearly blinded her. “Oh shit,” she gasped, ducking her head down into Ellis’ chest on instinct. Thankfully, the car passes without intrusion. Unfortunately for Trinity, Ellis takes it as a sign to be a little more professional. “Sorry baby,” she said, still fully seated inside Trinity. Trinity puts on her best pout, but no cigar. Ellis leaned in to whisper into the shell of her ear: “I promise I’ll make up for it.”
Santos assumed the making up was what they ended up doing later that night, but clearly Dr. Ellis had something else in mind. Something more public.
She finishes the intubation; the patient stabilizes. Santos catches Ellis’ glance across the room where she’s now tending to what looks like a scalp hematoma. She closes her mouth, suddenly realizing it was opened inadvertently, and swallows hard. Ellis grins, smirks, something in between. “Dr. Santos,” Shen calls out, and she’s snapped out of her reverie back into the smell of latex and antiseptic. She doesn’t even see Ellis. She’d spent half a beat staring at nothing. “Could use you over here. Cardiac arrest.” She nods, hustles over, listens to the rundown.
She’ll have to wait a little longer, she guesses.