Stop talking. It makes it harder to pretend you’re someone else.
“You,” I muttered instead.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Should we go for it?”
“I...it’s wrong, Kyle.”
“What is?”
“This. You know it’s wrong.”
“Not wrong. We’re both clean, Mattie. You know me. Why shouldn’t we take solace in each other’s arms?” He lifted an eyebrow.
Nodding, I watched the brown of his eyes grow dark. He unbuckled the top button of my jeans then hesitated to see if I would stop him. I didn’t. I was already too far gone, my thighs slick with wanting a man, any man, God help me to make me feel like desirable again.
When he began to unzip his pants, I stopped him. “Let me do it.” A wide grin spread across his face. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t want this or that he’d pushed me into it. The zipper slid down gently and...God help me—the silhouette of his length inside grey boxers was a total surprise. Had he always wanted me? Had I wanted him and not admitted it to myself? Or...
His fingers fluttered along the edge of my panties. “You sure, Mattie?” I was hot. So hot I could fry eggs in my vagina. Why the fuck not? I reasoned. Because this is Kyle and you can’t go back!
I half laughed. “I’m not sure about any of this, but I want you anyway.”
I lifted, allowing him to help me wriggle out of my jeans, the velvet of the couch cradling me in softness. That and the warm feeling I had from the wine. Erasing my inhibitions.
Then he kissed me so hard I lost my breath. It felt forced somehow. Kind of like an inmate on parole and I was the lucky virgin on the other side of the bars. This feels wrong.
With newfound courage, I pushed his hand away and swung my leg back in place. Again, I had the sinking feeling that this little seduction we were playing at, meant far more to Kyle than it did to me. Like it was a test. “What are we doing, Kyle? I mean, I want you. I really do, but...”
He stared up at me with pursed lips, brows knit together, obviously unable to believe I’d just rejected him. The one and only person in his life that never had. I didn’t want to. I just felt that I should. I had second thoughts. Again.
Talk about whiplash, woman.
“I’m sorry, Mattie. I thought...I mean... I am such an asshole.” He rubbed a hand over his face. A very handsome face with bright blue eyes and hair that lay in sexy waves across his forehead. I’d never looked at him that way until now. There was nothing between us. Not in a romantic way but was romantic love all that important? People had friends with benefits all the time these days.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he muttered. “Can you ever forgive...?”
“No. Not unless you don’t make me feel amazing right now.” I climbed up on my knees, the leather couch squelching in protest. I took his face in my hands. “For the record, you are most definitely not an asshole,” I said. “Or an old shoe or any of those things you think you are. You’re sweet and kind and any woman would be happy to have you in their bed.”
“Just not you,” he said, not meeting my gaze.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“It’s just I...I don’t want things to be weird for us later. Kyle, you’re my best friend. Some days my only friend.” Then, I kissed him and oh God, he tasted like all the men I recalled tasting. Salty and delicious and so freaking sexy. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to kiss a man.
What am I doing? This is Kyle.
When he thrust his tongue inside my mouth I momentarily stiffened, but if he noticed, he didn’t let on.
He shoved his hands up inside my bra and the wire inside one of the bra cups popped. “Owe!”
“You okay?”
Awkward.
“Yeah.”
I lifted my shirt over my head and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a snap and Smooch bounded after it. He grabbed it in his teeth, shook it a little, and then dropped it on the floor. Laughing I said, “I guess he doesn’t like my smell.”
“Well I do,” Kyle said. When I lifted my bra off my breasts, they bounced in front of his face. He drew back a little.
“Can you...?” Twisting, I turned a shoulder so Kyle could reach the tiny hooks in the back. Unhooked, I threw the bra toward the wall as well.
I swallowed hard. “Are we doing the right thing?”
“We’re just two lonely friends comforting each other, Mattie. That’s all.” His eyes had narrowed and there was perspiration on his forehead.
Somehow, his explanation helped. I jumped off his lap, unzipped my jeans and let them puddle to the floor.
“Come here, Mattie. Let me love you like only a best friend can.” His magnetic eyes were liquid pools of desire.
I hesitated.
“Please, Mattie. We both need this. You especially. Who else can love you like I can?”
“No one,” I said almost in a whisper while I stood there shivering. He knew me so well, the only one in my life who actually realized how sad and lonely I’d become.
“So let me make love to you tonight. Then, if you want, we’ll never talk of this night again.”
“Okay.”
Taking a colorful afghan from a nearby rocker, he spread it along the couch. “Lay down.”
“If we are going to do this, I’m on top,” I said.
He nodded, then lay on his back with the widest, most satisfying grin upon his face. He slipped a hand behind his head and motioned me forward.
Fuck! That thing was impressive.
I took another drink, draining the glass of wine then tipped it over to show him it was empty. Trembling with apprehension, lust, and a little bit of fear all rolled into one, I managed to shed my undies. Then I climbed on Kyle’s lap, his cock between us. “Holy shit, you’re big.”
“I am?”
“Don’t you know?” I ripped his shirt open because if I was going to bare my whole soul, so was he. I wasn’t prepared for how good he smelled though. “What is that you’re wearing?”
“Old shoe smell.”
We both laughed, which lessened some of the tension between us. After tilting my chin up so he could look me in the eye, he asked, “You still want this right?”
“I think so.” The warm pads of his fingers grabbed hold of my hips. Lifting me up, he settled me over his length. We started to move. “That’s it, baby.”
“Oh no, you don’t.”
“What?”
“Calling me baby. Total weirdness, Kyle. Not allowed. I’ll never be able to finish if you call me those kind of things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Sexy lover things.”
“Sorry. No sexy lover talk. Got it.”
He was right. I already felt my world coming apart. This was wrong on so many levels but my heart was beating so fast I could hear it in my toes. It felt wonderful and I couldn’t help smiling. Not even when the oven timer let out a shrill wail, startling us both “Cookies, I managed to blurt out.
“Yeah.”
“They’ll burn.”
“I don’t care.”
“Another. Mistake,” I murmured, half under my breath because I didn’t want him to hear me. I was wrong.
He whispered in my ear, “We’ll remain friends, Mattie. I promise. Don’t think. Forget about all those jerks who broke your heart, Mattie. And I’ll forget mine.”
I watched the way he was watching me, saw the sincerity of my best friend. The love in his eyes. The man who would never hurt me in a million years. But what if he fell in love with me? What if...?
“Fuck it!” I sat up straighter, buried his massive cock deeper. He groaned and then doubled his pace. The rich aroma of our passion was sharp against my nose.
I took what he offered.
The need to explode into a billion pieces.
Just for tonight.
Two hours later
“Too many commercials,” I complain
ed, staring at the television. It was the first word since...well, since we’d gone from platonic best friends to... Oh my freaking God, I fucked Kyle! I don’t even find him attractive. Not in the way I should. Ewe. Ewe. Ewe!
We lounged in overstuffed chairs on opposite sides of the room, neither of us daring to discuss what happened. Not that the sex wasn’t good. In fact, it had been amazing but I attributed the way I’d exploded into sensual freaking paradise to the fact I hadn’t had sex in like forever. Add wine, Kyle’s recent breakup, and my inability to say no to him and we’d probably made the mistake of a lifetime. If I lost my best friend over this I’d be devastated. At best, we had a confusing and humiliating memory to deal with—it would linger between us. Always. I suddenly wished to be older. Someone with momentary memory loss. Or dementia. Brain tumor anyone?
“So you wanna talk now?” Kyle asked, also staring at the television and not me. “I’m...I’m sorry, Mattie. I never meant to... I was just so lonely.”
“You should be sorry,” I spat. “Because of you...I...I...”
“What?”
“I don’t know. I forgot.” My brain was still processing, and I struggled to remember where I was in my menstrual cycle. Since I wasn’t...until now...having sex. I also hadn’t paid attention to birth control although I was certain, Kyle always wrapped it up with the women in his life because I’d been there when he bought condoms so I knew he was clean. Plus he’d told so on more than one occasion. He always told me everything and I him. Why hadn’t he wrapped up this time? Lost in the moment? What?
My stomach rumbled. I suddenly realized I’d not eaten since breakfast, but thankfully the wine induced coma had worn off. I started to think. Not a good thing. I needed to establish our relationship all over again. If I didn’t... “Kyle. We’re friends. Not...” I jutted my chin toward the couch. “Whatever that was.”
“I know.” He sounded like he was going to cry and shit...that just made me angrier. Or me.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I huffed, then leaned toward him. “Look at me, dammit! This is your fault.”
He whirled around.
“Oh, now you can look at me.”
“It wasn’t just me, and you know it. You were just as much into it, if I recall. Maybe more so. And did you have to drink so much wine? I mean, really, Mattie. You took advantage of me.”
“Me!
“Yeah. What got into you?”
I rolled my eyes. “What about you? Besides, you weren’t drinking and I was. And by the way, why the fuck didn’t you wrap that sucker up?”
“Hey, don’t blame this on me. I didn’t walk in here unannounced with two bottles of wine under my arm.”
“Again with the wine.” I glared at him. “I brought the wine for you. Excuse me for trying to make you feel better after that whole breakup thing.”
“Did you see me drink any wine? And have you ever seen me drink wine?
“Well no but...Anyway, that’s not the point. By the way, what was it you saw in that bitch anyway?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really but...”
“Then I don’t want to talk about her again. Ever.”
“Fine.”
“Fine,” he echoed, crossing his arms and mimicking my scowl.
“And we shouldn’t talk about what just happened between us either. Not like it’s ever going to happen again anyway.”
“Right,” he agreed.
“And like I said it wasn’t my fault.” I patted my chest.
“Mattie...” The look of betrayal in his eyes did me in though.
“Okay, maybe part of it was my fault.”
“Yeah.”
I gave him a scathing look. “This is the part where you say, ‘no, it was all me. I should have kept my paws to myself,’ Kyle. That would be the gentlemanly thing to say.”
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”
I dropped back down in the chair. “Ugh. I’m such a loser.”
“Yeah? Well what about me? Why do I turn women off all the time? I’m thirty-six, Mattie. Shouldn’t I know what I’m doing with regards to the opposite sex by now?”
I burst out laughing. “Are you kidding? Most men live their whole lives without a clue.”
He appeared genuinely surprised by this.
“Well, then clue me in, will you? You’re a woman. Tell me, what was it about...” We both glanced back at the couch. “That, that turned you into putty in my hands. Maybe I can replicate it and get a real woman next time.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Not what I meant.”
“I was just...lonely and maybe a tad hard up.”
“Thanks to you too,” he said. “So, what you’re telling me is it was mostly physical? That all I have to do is wait for the right time and the next woman will fall for my charms. Christ, Mattie, how the hell are we guys supposed to know the right time?”
“Women are very complicated, Kyle.”
“Well that I already knew. By the way, you haven’t had a date in awhile. What gives?”
I lifted a shoulder, let it fall. “Wrong place at the wrong time I suspect. There aren’t many eligible bachelors in the homeless shelter.”
“So go back to nursing.”
“And do what?”
“I don’t know. Meet yourself a doctor. Chat up a hot sexy patient.”
“Unethical,” I said.
“You mean nurses can’t date doctors?”
“No, silly. I can’t make dates with patients.”
“Oh. See how much I don’t know about women.”
I laughed. “I’m beginning to, yeah.”
I stared straight ahead, biting my lip. Then we both said aloud, “Didn’t happen.”
I took a much-needed breath.
“Sooo,” began Kyle tentatively. He patted me on the knee.
“So this episode is lame.” We’d been staring at the television side by side, for who knows how long, legs outstretched. I don’t think either of us even knew what was going on. I wiggled my stocking-clad toes. “Let’s go out.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.... you hungry?”
Kyle’s eyes brightened.“Sure. Let’s go get some wings or something. Maybe pizza. I need comfort food.”
“Sounds good. I know a great new bar that just opened.
Chapter 2
Steven
I stared at the invitation one last time, then slipped it in the top pocket of my white scrub coat, feeling nothing. Absolutely nothing. Well, besides exhaustion, that is.
“What’s that?” Harvey asked. “That isn’t...? Oh man, she sent me one too you know. Why the hell she thinks you and I want to attend her wedding is beyond me. You aren’t going, are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Listen, Steve, you have no obligation to see your ex-wife get hitched. That is, unless you want to show up with a hot date. Now that would be awesome.”
I peeked over the rim of my glasses, assessing whether he was serious with this ridiculous idea. Harvey was the best pediatrician in Rochester General. Awesome with his patients, but—even though we were cousins—he didn’t know a thing about how I was feeling. On the outside I was old Doctor Russo, calm as a cucumber, a workaholic, one of the most highly respected cardiologists in New York but where I excelled in teaching, speaking in front of thousands of my peers at conferences, and fixing hearts, I failed at meeting the opposite sex. Probably because I was so shy. Receiving an invitation to my ex-wife’s wedding just reminded me of how lonely I’d become. No wife. No girlfriend. Not even a dog. If I could bring a special someone to Kathleen’s wedding, maybe I wouldn’t feel like a loser.
Harvey was still talking. Talking between blowing bubbles with gum of all things. “Hey, just saying. I’m sure one of the nurses would jump at the chance to attend a rich swanky wedding with none other than Doctor Steamy.” The bubble in his mouth popped and a wide grin spread across his face.
The slamming doo
r of my locker closing echoed off the walls. I turned. “Excuse me.”
Did he just call me what I think he did?
“Doctor Steamy, that’s what all the nurses are calling you these days.”
“For the love of God....”
“Oh, don’t worry. They talk in the break room where no one else can hear them.”
But you did.
He walked over to a vending machine, threw in some change. He stood back to watch the throw-away cup drop down and fill with rich, steaming coffee. He was wearing green scrubs, his hair tied back in a ponytail, and the image of a SpongeBob SquarePant’s tattoo peaked below one shirt sleeve.
“Want to tell me how you came to know anything about the nurses’ private conversations?”
He lifted a shoulder, eyes wide, then grinned at me while he blew on the coffee. “Maybe a little bird told me?”
“Uh huh.”
“So you going or not?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t go?”
“Now that makes no sense. You just said...”
“Sometimes weddings are a great place to meet women.”
“Who said I wanted to meet a woman?”
“Certainly not you, Doctor Steamy.” A hearty chuckle escaped his lips. “Okay, let’s just forget about the wedding for a sec. When was the last time you had a date anyway?”
“None of your business, Russo.” It always sounded weird calling him the same name.
I took off my white scrub coat and hung it in my locker. “You know, if you have enough time to figure out my love life, maybe you don’t have enough work to do.” As Chief Surgeon on the Cardiac Unit, I knew that wasn’t true. Harvey was the most dedicated pediatrician I’d ever met, but the Bunker was no place to talk about our personal lives. We had people depending on us. We needed our heads in the game at all times. How Harvey managed to balance both a social life and work was a mystery to me. Hell, I barely had time to eat.
The door swung open. “Gentleman...” announced Doctor Carver.
Harvey frowned.
“You see the Fubar in the OR?”
Harvey sneered. Fubar was military slang for fucked up beyond recognition. “You cowboys work on her?” He pointed to Harvey. “Oh that’s right, you’re the kiddies doctor. My mistake.”
Doctor Steamy Page 2