Rebecca.
She couldn’t stop thinking about that first meeting in Rebecca’s office, how her pulse had raced when she realized who her mentor was. Every interaction since then had been charged with an unspoken tension, a shared secret that lingered in the air between them. Lillian wasn’t sure if it was attraction, curiosity, or something deeper that pulled her toward Rebecca, but she knew one thing for sure: she was in dangerous territory.
Her phone buzzed on the table, and when she picked it up, her heart gave a small jolt. It was a message from Rebecca:Meet me in the west wing OR prep room. 10 minutes.
No pleasantries. No context. Just an order. Lillian stared at the message for a long moment, her pulse quickening. She knew she shouldn’t go—she knew this was heading into territory that could ruin them both if anyone found out—but the pull was undeniable.
She downed the rest of her coffee, wiped her hands on her scrubs, and headed down the hallway toward the west wing.
The OR prep room was dimly lit, the harsh fluorescent lights overhead flickering slightly. It was empty at this hour, the hustle of the day shift long gone. Lillian’s footsteps echoed softly as she entered, her breath coming in shallow, nervous bursts. And then she saw her.
Rebecca stood near the counter, her back to Lillian, her posture impossibly straight, as if she was preparing for another surgery. But the moment Lillian stepped closer, Rebecca turned, her eyes locking onto Lillian’s with an intensity that made the breath catch in her throat.
Rebecca’s dark eyes were filled with hunger as they looked at Lillian.
They stood there for a moment, the silence between them heavy with anticipation, neither of them willing to speak first.
“I shouldn’t be here,” Lillian finally whispered, though her feet refused to move.
“No,” Rebecca replied, her voice low and controlled, “you shouldn’t.”
Lillian took a slow step forward, her heart pounding in her chest. “But you called me.”
Rebecca’s gaze softened, just for a second. “I did.”
The distance between them closed, and before Lillian could think about the consequences, she crossed the room, her fingers grazing Rebecca’s wrist. The contact was electric, sending a rush of heat through her, and in that moment, all thoughts of family, reputation, and responsibility disappeared.
Rebecca’s hand slid up to Lillian’s neck, her touch firm but not aggressive, her thumb brushing against the pulse point just below Lillian’s ear. Lillian tilted her head slightly, her eyes half-closing as Rebecca’s lips hovered inches from hers.
“I’m not supposed to want this,” Lillian murmured, her breath shaky, the words barely louder than the dull hum of the ventilation. The prep room smelled of chlorhexidine and warm metal; glove boxes lined the wall like a reminder to behave, and the strip light above them flickered once as if in warning.
Rebecca’s mouth hovered at Lillian’s jaw, not quite a kiss, a whisper against her skin. “Neither am I.”
And then the gap between them vanished.
The first brush of lips was cautious, a careful press that tasted of coffee gone cold and restraint held too long. It felt like testing a wire under tension, both of them listening for the snap. Lillian’s hands lifted and hesitated before finding the narrow of Rebecca’s waist, the fabric of her scrubs soft and thin under her palms; the contact steadied her and undid her at the same time. Rebecca kissed her again, deeper, and the caution dissolved, replaced by heat that rose fast and sure, as if their mouths had been teaching each other this rhythm in secret for months.
Rebecca turned her, guiding rather than pushing, and Lillian’s back met the cold steel of the counter with a startled breath. The chill shocked her skin through the thin cotton of her top, a bright contrast to the warmth where Rebeccapressed close. Fingers slid into Lillian’s hair pulling it loose, not rough, not gentle either—anchoring her, holding her still while Rebecca set the pace, mouth claiming, retreating, returning, building something steady and inexorable between them. Lillian answered without thinking, her lips parting, her hands fisting and smoothing at Rebecca’s sides, gathering scrubs in restless handfuls like she could pull her closer and quiet the noise inside her head all at once.
Lillian felt Rebecca’s hand pressing between the elastic of her scrub pants and her skin, seeking her out, fingers slipping inside her panties.
Lillian gasped.
Rebecca’s hungry dark eyes met Lillian’s and Lillian felt herself melting. She felt wetness pooling between her legs, in her panties.
“If you want this, Lillian, I need you to ask me for it. I need explicit consent.”
Lillian nodded. Rebecca’s mouth was inches from hers. She could feel the heat of Rebecca’s breath against her lips.
She felt more wetness between her legs.
“Please… yes… I want it… I need you…” she gasped as she felt Rebecca’s fingers edging lower, moving through her pubic hair.
“What do you need?” Rebecca growled.
Lillian took a deep breath, “I need to feel you inside me.” Lillian’s voice was husky. “Please… fuck me.”
Lillian felt Rebecca’s fingers dipping lower still, cupping underneath her and dragging long and slow against her wet and needy pussy.
