by Eve Langlais
It would be so quick. Easy. Painless.
The water version of herself beckoned, and she felt herself sway.
Then get yanked from the edge.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jett barked. “If you fell in here, you’d sink like a rock.”
“And?” She turned a tired gaze on him. “Don’t pretend you care.”
“I care more than I should.”
“Bullshit.” The expletive spilled from her. “We both know you don’t give a damn.”
“Don’t presume to tell me what I think.” He glared.
Her chin lifted a notch. “I think you’re mistaking feelings with pity. And I don’t need either. If you’ll excuse me. I’ve had enough fresh air for today.”
She swept past him, half hoping he’d grab her by the arm and tell her it wasn’t pity he felt but…what? What did she want from him?
Love.
Which was a foolish wish. Not to mention a selfish one. Jett didn’t love her. Nor did she want him to. Yet tell that to the empty spot inside her that yearned for someone to hold her tight.
Not just someone. Him. For some reason he was the one who filled her thoughts, who made her feel safe. Which was dumb because he couldn’t protect her from the one thing that would kill her.
With her mind in turmoil, she spent the night in her room, drinking hard. Hard enough that she passed out and slept through her alarm. By the time she realized what had happened, she was running late. Super late.
Despite that, she jumped into the shower. The hot water sluiced down her body, and she sighed. Her hands roamed over her skin, lingering more than they should. Times like these, when she was alone, she allowed herself to fantasize.
Imagined Jett in the shower with her, stroking his hands all over her naked and slick body.
Between her legs, her sex throbbed. Begging for the touch of her fingers. But as she stroked her slick folds, she pretended it was his mouth. A hot pair of lips, tugging and sucking. His tongue dipping.
Her breath caught. As one finger stroked between her nether lips, the other hand gripped her breast. Pinching her hard nipple. Rolling it and tugging, sending sweet jolts to her pussy.
Her finger dipped out of her sex to glide over her swollen clitoris. She rubbed it, faster and faster.
So close.
So…
“What are you doing?” The object of her fantasy gasped.
With a squeak, she pressed herself against the cold tile wall of her shower. The glass barrier that acted as a curtain did nothing to hide her. Two hands couldn’t shield all her parts.
Jett wasn’t the kind of guy to look away. His eyes half lidded, he drank her in, and she shivered. Arousal coursed through her still, even increased at her audience.
If she continued to masturbate while he watched, would he watch? Join in? Oh God.
“What are you doing here?” she asked instead of inviting him to get naked and on his knees.
“You didn’t come in to work so I came to check on you.”
“I slept in.”
“Apparently. You could have let someone know.”
“I didn’t expect anyone to care.”
“I care.” His lips pressed tight as if he regretted the admission.
“Well I’m fine. Which you would have known if you’d knocked.”
“I did knock. You didn’t answer.”
Probably because between the ventilation fan and the shower she’d not heard a thing. “You can’t just barge in whenever you like.”
“I will if I think there’s reason.” He stepped closer, his frame imposing in the small bathroom.
Sexy, too, if wearing too many clothes.
“What possible reason could you have for entering my room uninvited?”
“I was worried about you.” The soft words hit her in the gut. Anything else, she might have had a reply.
But this…
“I’m fine, as you can see. Just tired.”
“Me too.”
“Not sleeping well?” she asked as he strayed even closer, close enough she could have reached out and touched him.
“You might say that. I’ve been having dreams lately.” He slid the glass door to the side.
“Of what?” The words barely made it past her lips. Did he dream of waters that drowned too?
“You.” A knuckle brushed down her cheek, and she turned into the touch, eyes closed, wondering if she slept still because surely he hadn’t admitted to having thoughts of her.
“I told you not to worry about me.”
“Can’t help myself. I keep telling myself to stay away. To ignore you.”
“But?” she asked on a breathless whisper.
“You’re the one thing I can’t stop thinking about.” His hand cupped her chin and dragged her closer.
“What are you doing?” She stared at him, her heart beating so hard it might actually escape her chest.
“Trying to quiet the demons.”
What demons?
All thought fled as his mouth met hers, a softer embrace than she would have imagined despite his hard lips. He kissed her slowly, languorously as the shower at her back steamed the room.
She found herself sitting on the counter, ass on the cold marble top, his body pressing between her thighs as he kissed her still, his fingers twined in her hair.
A pat of her wondered at his change of heart, and another part thought she should stop, but the strongest part of her reveled in his caresses. Had craved this from almost the moment they met.
With Jett, she felt alive. She felt desire.
Even a silly ounce of hope.
She peeled the shirt from his upper body. He had a rock-hard physique, the top of him broad and muscled. The planes smooth and yet ridged. Her mouth followed her hands, tasting skin, while his hands gripped her hips.
When he suddenly dropped down, she made a sound, disappointed at losing her new playground. Only to gasp as he parted her thighs and blew on her.
Was this really happening?”
The first lash of his tongue against her clit let her know it was. She grabbed him by the hair and writhed at his touch. Keened at the pleasure. He licked her, sliding his tongue across her sex and slipping it between her nether lips to probe deeper.
When his calloused finger took its place, he plied his tongue exclusively against her swollen button. Fingering her, licking, tugging at her clit, adding another digit to stretch her.
She shuddered, moaned. Writhed as her orgasm coiled, needing just a little bit more.
And that was when he stopped and stood. Wrapped his hand back in her hair and dragged her close for a kiss. She tasted herself on his mouth, and it excited her. She worked the button of his pants and opened them enough to slide her hand into his briefs.
He sucked in a breath, and she laughed, a sound he caught in a passionate kiss even as his hand slipped between their bodies to stroke her.
“Now,” she panted, feeling herself on the brink. “I want to feel you inside me when I come.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“You’d better. You can’t leave me hanging. Fuck me.” She intentionally used the rough word.
“Red.” He moaned her nickname as the tip of his cock probed the entrance to her sex. She locked her legs around his waist and drew him closer. Deeper.
The thickness of him filled her.
Her hot breath panted against his shoulder as she clung to him.
His fingers dug into her ass as he ground himself into her.
Their bodies were joined. Meshed so tight. Her pleasure intense. When she came, he was there to catch the cry with his lips. His hips pistoned forward, thrusting so deep, drawing out the bliss.
Leaving them arched and frozen at the apex of perfection.
And someone just had to ruin it.
A voice called for her. Margaret.
Dammit. Her timing couldn’t have been worse.
“How did she get in?” she whispered.
“
I must not have latched the door,” he murmured, his cock still semi-hard inside her. “Fuck. Want me to shoot her?”
“No.” She bit her lip, lest she giggle at the preposterous idea. “Hold on, I’ll get rid of her.”
It meant peeling herself from Jett, her body still tingling and flushed. She wrapped herself in a towel and fought hard not to grin like an idiot.
She’d had sex with Jett.
And it was the most amazing experience of her life.
Chapter Fourteen
What a mind-blowing encounter. What a shame that other nurse interrupted. Jett wouldn’t have minded feeling Red’s soft curves a little while longer. Which just went to show how far he’d fallen.
What happened to not fucking those he worked with?
And what was he thinking screwing a dying woman?
Problem was, despite what everyone kept saying, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea. Just a moment ago, she’d felt so alive in his arms. Passionate. Warm.
Mine.
Jett wasn’t a man given to possessive thoughts, but something about her drew him. Perhaps it was best someone interrupted, lest he do something stupid like make some kind of school-boy declaration of love.
Love was for pussies. His daddy had said so every day after his mother left. Every time he downed another beer. Jett almost had it engraved on his tombstone when his pops died of liver disease seven years later. But there was a ridiculous cost for each letter. Money better spent on his own future. Even though his father’s mantra never made it to stone, he remembered.
Caring made a man weak. Stupid. Apparently, he took after his father.
Grabbing his discarded shirt and pulling the damp material over his head, he drew close enough to the door to hear the murmurs of two voices. Becky yapping with that other nurse, what’s her name, assigned to Chimera’s pet project on level six. He’d warned the boss about the pair becoming too close, not that he’d seen them doing anything. It was just something in the way they interacted, as if they shared a secret.
I’ve got a secret, too. And she entered the bathroom with an exclaimed, “I thought she’d never leave.”
“Did she suspect anything?”
Becky shrugged, her bare shoulders peeking from the towel. “So what if she does? We’re not doing anything wrong.”
Not the first time, they hadn’t. It was the fact that they continued to do it that was the problem.
It became a daily thing, him sneaking in every night, leaving before dawn every morning. Calling himself stupid each and every time. However, he couldn’t seem to resist Becky. Couldn’t stop thinking of her.
Another issue? His jealousy.
She entered the common room about a week after they first slept together. Leaning against a wall, sipping a coffee, he noticed the gazes tracking her. One in particular.
Mooney, that randy prick, with his Captain America good looks approached her. Jett couldn’t hear what he said, but he didn’t like the way she smiled. Was she flirting with him?
It roused a dark beast inside, one that screamed, “Not sharing,” which might be why he was so brusque when he stalked toward her and grunted. “You need some fresh air.”
“I’ll take her. Keep her safe from the beasties in the woods.” Moony smirked at him and almost lost his teeth.
Becky saved him from thousands in dental work. She shook her head. “Thanks but I already asked Jett to be my escort.”
She hadn’t. But he appreciated the lie.
What he didn’t like so much was once they got outside, the way her eyes shone and she exclaimed, “Thank you.”
“For?” Not killing Mooney? He still wasn’t sure he’d made the right choice.
“The flowers.”
He blinked. “What flowers?”
Confusion crinkled her brow. “Wasn’t it you that sent them? I got a bouquet this morning signed, your mystery admirer. I assumed it was you.”
His fists clenched, almost as tight as his jaw. “Wasn’t me.” Who was the fucker who dared?
“Oh.” She ducked her head and looked at the ground.
“I don’t do that kind of shit.” Never would have even occurred to him.
“That’s fine. I don’t need flowers. You’re all I want.” She placed her hand on his arm, and something wrenched inside him.
All I want.
The echo of those words was why he was out by the landing pad the next day waiting for the helicopter with its deliveries.
When she entered her room after work, it was to find it full of rose petals, scattered on the bed. And he didn’t do something so trivial as a bouquet that would die. He had a potted orchid brought in. Beautiful and delicate, just like her.
With a card that only said one thing. Jett. Which took him forever to write because words tumbled in his brain. Admissions that would make him sound weak.
But she understood. She threw herself in his arms and rode him until he bellowed her name.
Twice.
Things got more intense after that. There was no question that they spent all their free time together. He didn’t even care if people noticed. He had to be with her.
Had to.
Setting himself up for a major fall because he knew they played with borrowed time. Heard it in the raspy nature of her breath as she slept. The way she sometimes would start to cough, and turn away, as if he wouldn’t notice the blood in the tissues.
He had to do something. But Chimera, that sly fucking bastard, wouldn’t budge. Citing side effects and her civilian status, he continued to deny her the cure.
Jett didn’t give a fuck. She was dying.
And he didn’t like it. But what could he do?
Get her that fucking cure. The one Chimera taunted her with. The one he refused to give. The one Jett could steal for her…
About a month after they started fucking, Jett made his move. He waited until she’d fallen asleep that night. Checked to make sure Chimera had hit his quarters, too, instead of pulling an all-nighter.
Didn’t allow himself to ponder how this woman managed to worm her way into a heart he thought barren and indifferent.
Yet, the more he got to know Red, the more fascinated he found himself. Her bubbly nature in the face of impending doom…how did she manage it? How did she not rail against the world? Hate everyone and everything?
Most of all, why did the sight of him make her smile?
People didn’t smile when he came striding in their direction. Most of them didn’t stand their ground either, waiting for him to get close, but turned tail and ran.
It felt good to see her pleasure when he tracked her down. Felt even better when she slipped him a hug and a whispered, “Happy to see you.”
Which was why, unlike her, he wasn’t willing to see it end.
His access card gave him entry to the secret lab. The fridge, the glass door lit from within in a blue electric light, beckoned. A beacon of hope.
Insanity.
If he got caught…Chimera wouldn’t fire him. Jett knew too much. But he could end up in one of those cages. The ones in the back.
Jett wouldn’t make a good prisoner, so at least his punishment wouldn’t last long.
Only if he got caught. With his access to the cameras, it had proved easy to create a ten-minute loop. He would wipe his keycard access after the fact. Maybe set up that asshole Mooney for the fall—despite everything, that fucker kept eyeing Red in a way he didn’t like. Turned out he was the bastard who’d sent her flowers. Making him look bad. Jett wouldn’t mind taking him down a peg. Maybe eliminating him altogether.
Jett approached the fridge and eyed the lock. A thumbprint was needed. Chimera’s print. Good thing he’d come prepared. From his pocket, he withdrew the tape and powder he’d filched. Finding a clear print proved easy in this space. Chimera’s fingers had touched just about everything.
He molded the tape to his fingertip, knowing there was a strong possibility this wouldn’t work. He’d only done this onc
e before during his military days.
Would it work again?
He pressed it against the lock.
Nothing happened.
He shoved his finger against it again and again.
The fridge didn’t open. And a voice said, “It won’t unlock for you.”
Whirling, he beheld Chimera standing in the shadows, having arrived from who the fuck knew where.
Some people might have bluffed their way out. Jett wasn’t that kind of pussy. He owned his shit. “I want the cure for cancer.”
“Are you ill?”
“Not for me. For her.”
“By her I assume you mean Nurse Frederickson.” Chimera stepped closer, enough the blue glow from the fridge slanted across his countenance, giving it sharp planes and shadows.
“Doesn’t seem fair that you’ve got a cure right here and you’re letting her die.”
“Am I?” The man arched a brow. “Just because I’m not openly feeding her a cure doesn’t mean I’m doing nothing.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I’m trying to subtly shift your lady friend without drawing her attention. Too fast and she’ll notice.”
“Too slow and she might still die.”
Chimera shrugged. “Also a possibility.”
“If you’re healing her, then why is she looking worse?”
“Her body is in a radical fight. Do you really think it’s going to be easy?”
No. But it pained Jett to see her losing weight. Noticing the circles under her eyes. More than one night he’d held her as she thrashed in the grips of a nightmare.
“Why not tell her?” She would owe her life to the clinic, to Chimera.
“Because she still has those journals. The ones where she’s been recording her observations of me, the clinic. Everyone.”
Jett snorted. “And? Would take two seconds to burn them.”
“She aspires to be a journalist. This would be the story of a lifetime. I don’t think that will stop her from telling the world about us.”
“I think she’d trade a big scoop for a second chance.”