When I woke up, I was even sweatier. My nightshirt and pillowcase were damp with my perspiration. Carson wasn’t in bed, so I got up to look for him. Hopefully, he hadn’t been woken by another nightmare. He never wanted to go back to bed after those, whether he needed the sleep or not.
I found him in my living room, shirtless and bending down to examine the wires in the spot where he’d removed my thermostat.
“Hey,” I said, yawning. “Come back to bed.”
“The air conditioner’s not working.”
“Mmm. You don’t have to work on it; you should be asleep.”
“Nah, I’m already up. I think you’ve got a coolant leak. And you need a new thermostat.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind and kissed his back. “I’ll call a repair place. You don’t need to work here, babe. Come back to bed with me.”
He turned and kissed me on the head. “I don’t mind. This way I know it’s fixed right. You go back to bed, and I’ll be in later.”
I turned to walk away, and he called behind me.
“Oh hell, you’re not wearing panties, are you?”
After we had sex, I’d grabbed a nightshirt I usually wore with pants, and it didn’t even cover all of my ass, which was, in fact, bare.
“Nope.”
Carson shook his head. “You have the finest ass I’ve ever seen, Jocelyn Drake. There are so many things I’d love to do to it right now.”
“Such as?”
“Bite it, spank it, squeeze it . . . and then fuck it as hard as you can handle.”
My insides swirled with desire. “All talk, Mr. Stephens. You seem much more interested in that thermostat than my ass.”
His laugh was low and somehow sexy. “Just wait. Once I get the air fixed, I’ll show you how interested I am.”
“My ass looks forward to it.”
I made sure there was a little sway in my step as I walked back to the bedroom.
Dean had once told me my ass wasn’t toned enough for his taste. I’d been self-conscious about it since, until Carson had convinced me my ass was dead sexy exactly as it was.
Once I got back in bed, I couldn’t fall asleep. I was too excited about Carson’s return. He stuck his head through the bedroom doorway a few minutes later and told me he had to go out for parts for the air conditioner.
Last night I’d delivered two babies and treated a hypertensive patient I’d been very concerned about. I was tired, and though I wanted to wait for Carson, sleep soon won out.
Chapter Thirteen
Carson
We fell into a comfortable routine over the course of the next month. There weren’t many days we didn’t spend together when we weren’t working.
When I’d seen the beautiful blonde with a radiant smile in the hospital cafeteria before formally meeting Joss, I’d assumed she was very social. Why wouldn’t she be? She looked like the kind of person everyone wanted to be around: warm, friendly, and sweet.
I’d been wrong about her, though. Joss was like me—more comfortable in a one-on-one setting or with just a couple of friends. She didn’t like the pressure of big social gatherings.
That worked perfectly for me. My favorite day of the week was Sunday, when we would usually stay in at her place all day. After morning sex, we’d either watch movies or she’d sit on the couch and read while I watched a game on TV and rubbed her feet. Often we’d end up back in bed for an afternoon nap.
Those naps did me good, because sleep was only coming in spurts for me lately. Though I was more content than ever, my nightmares seemed to be getting worse. I accepted that the horrors of war would always be with me, but Joss worried about me, and for that reason, I wanted to sleep like a normal person.
I was at the firing range this morning, taking out my frustration on the targets.
“You killed that fucker about twenty times over,” another guy at the range said from several feet away.
Nodding, I reloaded and got back to it. I hadn’t come here to make chitchat.
Memories of shooting at living targets were still very fresh in my mind. Killing people messed with a person’s mind. Whether you knew you had to do it or not, whether they were about to kill you or not—the reality of pulling the trigger and ending a life was sobering.
One of my buddies had reminded me often that over there, there was no such thing as right or wrong. There was only dead or alive.
I’d come home in one piece, which made me better off than many of the men and women I’d served with. Still, the adjustment to civilian life had been tough for me, and at times it still was.
I couldn’t make small talk. When someone at the hospital tried to start a conversation about their shitty day or their asshole boss, I just couldn’t bring myself to care.
There were people out there with real problems. Hell, there were people without jobs who would give anything for a boss who made them work late.
I’d been shooting at targets for nearly an hour when fatigue finally hit. After work this morning, I’d taken Joss out for breakfast and then dropped her off at her place and come here. I felt a powerful pull to go climb in bed with her and get some rest.
I drove straight to her place and used my key to get in. She was in bed when I walked into the bedroom, but not asleep. Instead, she was reading and twirling a lock of hair around the end of her finger. That was something she only did while reading.
“Hey,” she said, yawning. “How was the range?”
“Good.” I undressed and tossed my clothes into a heap in the corner. “How’s the book?”
“Not as good as real life.” She smiled sweetly and looked me over from head to toe.
“Hold that thought while I get a shower.”
“You got anything else you need me to hold?”
I smiled. “Always, baby. Just give me a minute.”
The water at her place took a long time to get hot, so I took a quick, lukewarm shower and went back into the bedroom.
“You okay?” she asked when she saw me. “You look really tired.”
“I haven’t been sleeping so great,” I said, getting in bed beside her. “Guess you already know that, though.”
“Yeah.” She reached over and cupped my cheek. “And the nightmares probably make you not even want to sleep.”
“Pretty much.”
“Have you thought about sleeping medication?”
I chuckled lightly. “My sleeping medication in Iraq was vodka.”
“Let’s not go that direction,” she said, sounding amused. “Especially since we go to bed at nine a.m.”
“I don’t know. I guess I could try it.”
“You know, if you ever want to talk about the nightmares, you can talk to me. Wake me up when they happen. Just talking through it might help more than you think.”
I sighed heavily. “I hate talking about it. I just want to forget a lot of it.”
“It’s not always that simple. It’s in your subconscious, or you wouldn’t be dreaming about it.”
“I guess so. It’s not bad enough what we have to see and do over there; we have to live with all of it after we get home, too. Pretty fucked up.”
“I’m always here, okay?” She leaned closer and kissed me, making the mmm noise that would stiffen my dick even if we were in the freezer at a morgue.
“I don’t deserve you, Joss,” I said against her lips, running my hand over her hair.
“Don’t say that. You’re amazing.” She gently brushed her cheek against mine. “You know how I love it when you don’t shave.”
I eased her onto her back and climbed on top of her, my elbows resting on either side of her head.
“If the volume of your moans a few days ago was any indication, what you really love is the way my face feels on your inner thighs when I haven’t shaved.”
She made the mmm sound again as my erection pressed against her.
“I do love that.”
“Are you wearing those tiny panties I like
?”
There was a moment of silence. “I’m actually not wearing any.”
“Even better.” I got up on my knees and pushed up her silky, sleeveless nightgown.
Fuck yes. Her pussy was completely bare. I raised the gown all the way up past her breasts, rubbing my hard cock as I looked her over.
Her skin was smooth, soft, and fair. Her pink nipples were stiff, her breasts rising and falling as she breathed.
“You’re fucking perfect,” I said in a low tone.
I bent down and kissed her stomach, then moved lower, nipping at her inner thighs and easing the sting with gentle strokes of my tongue.
There was nothing I loved like teasing her a little. She moaned and writhed and twisted her fingers into my hair as I breathed on her skin. As soon as I put my tongue inside her, she pulled my hair and arched her back, moaning my name.
I’d gotten to know her body well. She liked my mouth and my fingers at the same time. Everything but her was forgotten as I worked my fingers in and out of her and swirled my tongue over her clit.
“Oh God,” she cried. “Carson . . .”
She was close. It only took a few more seconds for her to grind against my face and come, the waves hard and fast.
“That was fantas—”
Her sentence was interrupted when I grabbed her hips and flipped her over. She got to her knees as I pushed down the boxer briefs I’d put on after my shower.
We groaned in unison as I slammed inside her. She was tight and wet—complete perfection.
I took out my frustration with the nightmares, pumping my hips hard while I kept my hands locked around her waist. My skin slapped against her ass loudly.
“Fuck,” I managed to ground out. “You’re pushing that ass out for more, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Her voice was a breathy moan. “Harder, please.”
Shit. It was hard to hold on when she had her ass in the air and was begging for more.
But who was I to deny her? I gave it to her harder, and she reached out to brace her hand on the bed’s headboard. The bedsprings were creaking, and the headboard was bouncing against the wall in time to the thrusting of my hips.
“Ah, Joss.” I squeezed her hips so tightly I had to be leaving handprints there. “I’m gonna come.”
She pushed back against me, and I unloaded everything into her. All the tension and fatigue and resentment drained away as I emptied myself into the woman who had become my world.
I was breathing hard as I got on my back and pulled her on top of me.
“I’ll be feeling that at work tonight,” she said, grinning.
“Damn right.” I smacked her ass. “Don’t ever forget who this ass belongs to.”
“That better mean your ass belongs to me, too.”
I brushed the hair away from her face and kissed her softly. “You know it does.”
Her expression turned serious. “I can’t remember what my life was like before you. Going to bed alone and only cooking for myself . . . it seems so far away now.”
“It does for me, too.”
“Sometimes I feel like I can’t stay this happy. Like it’s too good to be true and it will slip away when I’m not looking.”
“It won’t.” I tucked her hair behind her ear and ran my thumb over her jaw line. “I won’t slip away, Joss. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and so much more.”
Her eyes lit up with happiness. It was times like this when she’d usually lob a joke at me, unable to accept a compliment.
“It’s because I touch vaginas for a living, isn’t it? That’s pretty much every man’s fantasy.”
I ran my hand around to the back of her neck and cupped it. “You’re my fantasy, but it’s got nothing to do with your job.”
She smiled. “You’re mine, too.”
We both got out of bed to clean up, and as soon as we got back in, she snuggled in close to me.
“Sweet dreams, beautiful man,” she said in a sleepy tone. “And don’t forget I’m here. Always right here if you need me.”
I kissed her temple and closed my eyes, letting relaxation take over. Hopefully, tonight the nightmares would stay away.
Chapter Fourteen
Joss
I turned to Hattie, busting her giving me the side-eye for at least the tenth time today.
“What?” I demanded. “Do I have something on my face?” I swiped at my cheeks with my fingers.
She smiled. “No. You just look different. You’re kinda glowing. Are you . . . ?”
“No!” I looked over each of my shoulders to make sure no one was listening, then lowered my brows. “Absolutely not. That’s how rumors get started, Hattie.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” She shrugged and looked down at her cell phone screen, breaking out in a grin. “Oh, this man . . . he won’t take no for an answer.”
I rolled my eyes and stood up from my seat at the counter, where I’d been reading an article in a medical journal. Hattie attracted men like flies to honey, and she enjoyed every second of it. I’d always admired her confidence and wished some of it would rub off on me.
Carson and I had been back in a really good place for a few weeks now. He’d become the most important person in my life—not just my boyfriend but also my best friend. I’d never known a better listener.
I was thinking about waking up this afternoon to his head on my bare chest as he snored like a chainsaw. It wasn’t annoying to me at all, though. He was sleeping peacefully, and he was overdue for that.
One of my patients tonight, a sixteen-year-old girl, was sobbing hysterically when I walked into her room.
“I can’t,” she cried, her eyes wide and pleading as she looked at a woman I assumed was her mother. “It’s so awful. It hurts so bad.”
“Hi, Sara,” I said, sliding on a pair of latex gloves.
“Help me.” She turned her imploring gaze on me. “I can’t—” Her mouth dropped open in a silent shriek as she doubled over onto the bed, half standing and half lying.
“I want you in the bed to stay,” I said, walking over to her.
She was curled in on herself, motionless.
“Breathe, Sara. You need to breathe.”
Her mother rubbed her hand in circles on her back, looking pained.
Sara shook her head, resisting me. She squeezed her hands into fists.
“Breathe,” I said more firmly. “Come on. You are your baby’s lifeline. I know it hurts, and I can give you something for that, but you have to breathe.”
She exhaled with an anguished moan and then took in a breath.
“Good. Come on, baby, breathe with me,” her mother said, leaning down next to Sara on the bed.
“I can’t do this,” Sara said frantically.
She breathed in and out, tears dripping from her face to the sheet on the bed. When the door opened and her nurse, Ella, walked in, I exchanged a look with her.
It was tough to be in labor when you were still a kid yourself. Sara had gotten an epidural, but it didn’t seem to be working. There wasn’t a lot I could do to ease her pain, but it was best if I didn’t mention that right now.
Ella, Sara’s mom, and I worked together to get her into the bed, Sara wailing the entire time.
“Hey, listen to me, Sara,” I said, talking loudly so she could hear me over herself. “You can do this. I know you can.”
She shook her head and reached for her mother’s hand, squeezing it so hard her mother cringed.
“I’m checking your cervix,” I said, patting her knee. “Let’s see . . . it’s . . . almost an eight.”
The monitor registered a new contraction, and Sara screamed.
“I’m dying,” she sobbed. “I’m being ripped in half! This is gonna kill me.”
“I promise you’re not dying,” I said, meeting her eyes. “It just actually hurts this bad.”
She looked at her mom, going quiet for a second. “Did it hurt this bad when you had me?”
&nbs
p; Her mom laughed lightly and nodded. “Oh yeah.”
Ella gave Sara a sympathetic smile. “I’ve had three. You don’t remember the pain once you see that little face for the first time. Or maybe you remember it but know it was worth it.”
I felt an unexpected twinge of envy for Ella. She had three beautiful kids, and her face lit up every time she talked about them, just like it was lit up right now. I’d never been sure I wanted kids until recently, but now that I knew, I knew for sure.
What I didn’t know was whether I should keep falling deeper in love with a man who had said he didn’t think he wanted them.
Sara let out an inhuman wail, tears streaming down her cheeks. Another nurse came into the room, turning on the bright lights I’d need for the delivery.
It was time to switch my mind into delivery mode. I focused and coached Sara, who still seemed to think she could change her mind about having this baby.
“You have to push now,” I told her.
She shook her head decisively. “I don’t want to.”
“You have to. Come on, Sara. You can do this. Give it everything you’ve got, and I promise it’ll be over soon. Your baby wants to meet you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed. It only took a few pushes for her to deliver a healthy eight-pound, six-ounce baby boy. She sobbed when it was over, collapsing onto the hospital bed.
“Oh, Sara.” Her mom cried tears of joy as she cradled her new grandson. “He’s perfect, honey.”
I examined the baby, who was, in fact, perfect. And as I checked over his little fingers and toes, I longed for one of my own. Perfect or not. Boy or girl. Hell, both. I didn’t care. I just wanted to be a mother.
Once I left Sara and the baby in the care of the nurses to begin breastfeeding, I took off my gloves, threw them away, and headed down to the second-level doctor’s lounge for a break. Carson was working on a big rewiring job in another building of the hospital, so I couldn’t see him tonight.
I was trying to decide if I wanted to lie on a couch in the lounge and send Carson some sexy texts or have something to eat as I opened the door to the lounge and saw Dean sitting alone at a table.
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