by Ashley Logan
"Gimme the leg," he says again; deeper, more demanding.
Wheeling myself slowly back into position, I keep my legs down.
"I'll give it to you if you promise not to look."
"Fine. I'll just imagine Sasquatch as I run over your porcupine quills like braille," he says, still grinning.
"Now I don't want you to touch me either," I say dismissively.
"Yes you do. Your face told me you loved it. Give me your leg and I'll prove it to you."
When I don't move, he dangles a carrot.
"If you make your facial expressions as sexy as before, I promise I won't even notice anything else."
Sucking in my bottom lip, I release it slowly through my teeth. "Promise?"
"What you just did with your bottom lip is a pretty good start," he says, his gaze lingering on my mouth.
"Don't you ever speak of this to anyone," I warn, slowly raising my feet back up to rest on his bed.
"Who would I tell?" he says, latching onto my foot before I can change my mind. "I don't want my friends to tease me about my hairy girlfriend," he says, laughing at my stunned face. "I promise I won't tell!" he says, as he starts rubbing again. Two seconds later, he stops. "What?"
"You just called me your girlfriend."
Taking a breath, he continues rubbing. "It felt like the right word. I know you said it's a no go for a few months and all that, but I'm already there. I can call you secret girlfriend, if that makes you feel better? Or is it the girlfriend word that's the problem? You don't like it. Don't want it. Which?"
I shake my head and draw breath when my body finally remembers how.
"I liked it," I whisper, leaning back in the chair and moaning as his devoted hands mold me like clay. Every touch soothes away the aches and when he removes my other shoe and starts on that leg, I'm absolute putty. My whole body responds to his attentions. Arching, and easing, and melting in whichever direction he moves me. Relaxing heavily into the chair, I relinquish all control. I'll be one of his masterpieces when he's finished.
Far away voices bring me back from beyond and I blink at the light when I open my eyes, waiting for them to adjust.
"What did you do to her? She'll never walk to the car now. Look at the state of her," Marty says with a smile in his voice as he holds his hand out to shake Brad's before changing his mind. I look at my feet, still in Brad's hands and groan.
"Did I fall asleep?" I ask, my voice thick and groggy as if I have been.
Putting my socks and shoes back on for me, Brad just smiles.
"She can always steal my wheels," he says to Marty, not once taking his eyes off mine.
"Borrow," I correct him. "And I'm pretty sure I could walk another twelve hours after that. Thank you."
"Thank you." Still looking at me, he tightens my laces. Those eyes have got my internal temperature rising.
"For what?" I mumble.
"For the goodnight kiss you're about to give me," he says, blinking and breaking the spell as he turns to Marty. "She'll be out in a minute," he says, casting his eyes at the door.
"Right!" Marty jumps to attention. "I'll meet you at the front desk?" he asks me.
I nod, lowering my feet to the floor and standing up. "Thanks Marty."
"No probs."
Sitting on the edge of Brad's bed, I lean in and graze his cheek with mine. "Don't touch me with those hands until you've washed them," I warn, taking his ear between my teeth and tugging it gently. I want to bite every bit of him. He tastes of salt and smells of man.
"That's pretty mean," he says. "Are you going to give me a minute to wash up, or do I have to wait until you come back to work tomorrow before I can touch you?"
"How about you wash up after I leave, and be satisfied with me touching you," I whisper, running my fingers over his shoulders, down his arms, and back up his neck to weave into his curls.
"I could live with that," he whispers against my lips before I seal them over his and sweep my tongue over the crease between them. He opens on a moan and I press myself into him as he drives the kiss somewhere steamy.
Breaking away panting, I back up, scared of how fast I'm moving. It's one thing to daydream about it, but something else altogether to straddle him in his hospital bed.
"I should go before I do something that'll cost me my job," I say with difficulty, still breathless.
"Mmmm. Yes." Closing his eyes, Brad nods. "We're moving fast. Sorry."
"My bad. I don't usually get to flirt with things I want. Too much of a good thing and I'll lose my head." Reaching up, I pat my hair, as if my head might actually fall off; or explode in a fiery ball of lust, maybe.
"I'll see you tomorrow?"
I nod. "How long did they demand you stay?"
"One more day. Bruno's going to drop my car off some time tomorrow afternoon, so any time after then I can make a getaway. But I'm thinking I might wait until you finish your shift tomorrow before I even consider it. Maybe I can give you a ride."
Feeling the blush climb up my neck, I have little hope of hiding where my thoughts went with that statement. Grinning, Brad leans back with his hands behind his head as if relaxing after a job well done. It only serves to highlight his well-defined torso and those outrageously built arms.
"If anyone is riding anyone, I'll be riding you," I say, owning my feelings as I take a precautionary step back. "But I'm pretty sure that won't be happening tomorrow, so you can wipe that look off your face."
Feigning innocence, Brad pretends to look offended, but the hungry look in his eyes is unmistakable. It stirs the ravenous need within me and desire continues to pool low in my abdomen. Maybe he can give me a ride home tomorrow. We can park up somewhere far away from Mom's house and take some time to steam up his windows.
Shit. This serious craving issue is going to cause some major problems. Something has snapped inside and opened the fucking floodgates to my nether-regions. My body must be like my car - ignore it long enough and something will break when you're least expecting it. Wetting my lips, I try to control all of my pent up need and move to a safer subject.
My brain's too tired to think, so I search the room for inspiration.
Looking at his pinned leg, I stifle a yawn. "Should you be driving?"
"Only need my hands," he says, twinkling his fingers at me. "Go home to bed," he says, pulling me in again for a quick kiss.
"Dream about me?" I ask, stretching as I stand.
Smiling, he raises his hand in his usual, static wave. "Oh, I plan to. Tell Marty to drive safely with my precious cargo."
Unable to keep a smile from my face, I blow him a kiss and head for the front desk.
"You are in so much trouble," Marty says as I approach.
My face falls. "Why?"
"That guy is too good to be true."
Smiling, I shake my head. "Actually, he's probably too true to be good."
Marty scrunches his face. "What?"
"Nothing. He's mine. Go find your own personal masseuse."
"I'm working on it," he says defensively as we get into his car.
"You struck out again, didn't you."
"Shut up." His door shuts more loudly than necessary, and I know he's frustrated and hurting.
"Hang in there Marty. Life has a way of throwing curve-balls, but one of these days, you'll find yourself in the strike zone."
"Look at you, with your baseball analogies," he teases as we head for the eastern suburbs. "I hope you're right, Stace. I'm getting pretty damn sick of curve-balls."
"Yeah, it'll take some effort to wait them out alright."
CHAPTER FIVE
BRAD
Stace comes bouncing through my door and stops. Glancing from me to my mom, she smiles shyly and holds up her hand in greeting.
"Hi... Mrs. Jenkins. Sorry to bust in on your visit. I'll come back later?" she asks, her eyes flitting to me.
"Nonsense," Mom says, rising from her chair to usher Stacey into the room. "Stacey, is it?" she says eying the
hospital name badge on Stace's chest. Stace opens her mouth to speak, but it just opens and closes without volume, making me smile.
"Stacey Lane, allow me to introduce Beverly Jenkins, my darling and very understanding mother. Mom was just leaving," I add, making eyes at her.
"Oh. Yes," she says, trying to hide her smile as she flaps around and grabs her bag. "You sure you'll be alright to drive?"
"I'll be fine," I assure her as she leans in so I can kiss her cheek. "Thanks Mom."
Giving me a look that tells me she's going to hound me when I get home, Mom smiles at Stace and watches us over her shoulder as she leaves.
Stace remains frozen until I clear my throat.
"You okay?"
"Ah, yeah." She gingerly steps closer. "Sorry. Mom's kind of freak me out. Bad experience. With my own mom, of course. Other people's moms seem quite nice, mostly. I'm just programmed to expect the worse, and I find it's best to just be as still and as quiet as possible until they pass by. It's weird. I know. I don't want to be that way, I just need... practice, I guess. Exposure to good role models. Your mom seems nice, by the way. You didn't have to chase her away, though. I could've come back la-"
"Stace?" Cutting off her nervous babbling, I wave her over. When she gets close enough, I take her hand. "Breathe. Everything is fine. You sound like you did that time you hijacked me to move apartments."
Frowning, she studies her hand in mine. "You remember that?"
"Ah, yeah. It was like my first time back out in the real world after a war zone and a hospital, and my tour guide wouldn't stop talking. It wasn't until you pulled up outside that house that you shut up. We must have sat in silence then for nearly half an hour."
"You dragged yourself into the back of the van to get your chair. Setting up everything yourself, you opened my door from the outside," she says, almost apologetic. "I was so distracted just working up my courage I was surprised to see you sitting there with that 'hurry the fuck up' look on your face. You told me to... 'Get the fuck on with it' as I recall."
"You were wasting my adventure time," I explain with a smile. "Your lack of response actually inspired me to test what I was still capable of for the first time. Thanks to you, I found I could do more than I'd thought. Until then, I'd felt like I might rot away in a hospital wishing the end would come soon."
"It was a therapeutic journey for us both then," she says with a smile. "Thank you for helping me load the van."
"Thank you for entertaining my tortured soul. My favorite bit was when you cut up all but one of his shirts, then stole the last one and posted it into a clothing bin on our way to get ice-cream."
"That one was his favorite," she explains, her smile wistful with nostalgia. "He loved it too much. I hoped he'd see some homeless guy wearing it down the street and be devastated. He would've been more upset over losing that shirt, than losing me."
"Fucking dumbass," I mutter, reeling her in and taking her mouth in a needy kiss. Her soft body presses into me, and my pulse kicks up.
"Wait," she says, pulling back. Quick-stepping to the door, she peeks out before quietly closing it. On her way back to me, she also pulls the privacy curtain, giving us twice the protection from prying eyes.
"It'll give us a little time if someone comes in," she explains, climbing onto my bed. "They'll likely knock first too," she says, settling over my lap as she runs her hands through my hair.
I love the way my useless legs don't even matter to her. I want to tell her that I think I love her, but I don't want to scare her off by saying that too early.
"I fucking love the way your mind works," I say instead, running my hands over her kneeling legs as she straddles me. "I also dig your body."
"My body and mind dig you too," she says, lowering her lips to mine in a full, scorching hot kiss; uninhibited by uncomfortable body angling or fear of intrusion.
My hands follow her legs back to her ass, and I pull her hard against me, loving it when her hips tilt forward and begin to grind. Moaning in approval, I slip my hands up under her shirt, enjoying her smooth skin as I pull her closer. Practically trembling under my touch, Stacey pulls back.
"You make me want to do bad things, Mr. Jenkins. I can't do bad things."
Pulling her back in, I kiss her lips, her throat, and the triangle of bare skin at the top of her chest that her scrubs don't cover.
"I won't let you do bad things, but I definitely plan on making you feel good." Nuzzling my way up to her hair, I inhale deeply. "You smell fucking delicious."
She giggles and twists away as my attempts to burrow in only tickle her.
Laughing myself, I chase her. "Come back. I'm not finished soaking you up."
"What are you, a fucking sponge?" she says, still twisting her face out of reach.
Grunting, I take her face between my hands and steer her back to my lips. "You have a filthy fucking mouth," I mutter, giving her lips a lick as she giggles again. I moan as my dick lunges for her. "One minute you're swearing at me and the next that sweet little laugh breaks my fucking heart. Your naughty and nice all wrapped up in a tight little package and it's terrifying."
"You're terrifying," she argues, whimpering as my hands travel over the lace of her bra. "It's been so long since anyone touched me that I feel like I might catch on fire just sitting here," she says, biting her lip and keeping unreasonably still as if trying to fight her urge to rub against my erection. She honestly looks about three good strokes away from screaming my name.
"How long?"
"The last male anywhere near my downstairs was Ry when he came out of it," she says, cheeks flushing a deep red.
"Holy fuck. How old is he? Five?"
She nods.
"Turn around," I command.
She looks down and then back at my face. "What?"
"Turn around," I repeat. "Sit on me facing the other way. Now. Come on," I urge her when she hesitates. "We haven't got all night; get a wriggle on."
Frowning, she does as I say. "Why am I facing this way? I came over to see you, not your fucking walls."
"Shut up and lean back," I say, adjusting my crotch before pulling her into a better position. Rubbing my cheek against the silk of her hair, I moan in her ear. "You can't tell me you haven't been touched in over five years and expect me not to remedy the situation." Giving the shell of her ear a lick, I get to work with my hands.
The skin of her stomach is softer than rose petals, but I keep moving upward. Tugging down her bra, I release her breasts from their lacy restraints and cup them in my palms as I fondle her nipples. Her breath catches and I plant tiny kisses on her neck, enjoying the little tremors of pleasure that run through her.
"You feel gorgeous. I'm going to need a visual of these ASAP."
"Now soon enough?" she asks between breathy sighs, raising her shirt up so I can see exactly what I'm doing. My dick strains against her butt and she moans.
"Fucking beautiful," I breathe, squeezing one nipple lightly as my other hand travels down the creamy skin of her stomach and under the waistband of her pants.
"Brad," she whispers, clenching her thighs together.
"Relax. I've got you." Pulling her even closer, I gently tease her over her panties.
"I shouldn't. Someone will know. Mom will know."
"Nobody will know," I assure her. "Only you and me."
I soothe her with gentle strokes until she succumbs. Soon, she's moving with me and I speak softly into her ear. "Isn't that better? When was the last time you did something that felt good? You deserve a treat. No-one has to know."
I slip my hand beneath her panties and groan at the wet heat of her. Running my fingers through her juices, I slip a few inside her, hooking them in place and milling her clit with my palm.
A gasp escapes her, followed by a long, low moan as I slowly tease her nipple between my fingers and thumb. The effect is almost instant. Bearing down on my hand, she grinds along with me before clamping her thighs around my hand and bucking backwards into my
chest as powerful spasms rock through her.
Pressing her lips together to keep her noise contained, she melts in my arms as I soothe her last quivers and soak up her unbridled pleasure as I lavish long, shallow kisses down her neck.
"I can't move," she mumbles eventually.
I chuckle quietly. "You want to borrow my chair to help you get back to work?"
She lifts her head to check her fob watch and moans. Her head falls back against my shoulder and a series of little aftershocks make her squeeze my hand with her legs again.
"I don't want to go."
"I don't want you to either, but I'll see you in a few hours at quitting time." Setting her panties back in place as I retreat, I smile to myself. "I'll probably still be beating off in the bathroom as I recall you coming apart in my arms," I state plainly as I suck her arousal from my fingers - much to her horror.
"Fucking animal."
I throw her a devilish grin. "I am. And you've unleashed the beast. I suggest you get back to work before I go primal and claim you without caring where we are."
Cinching her thighs together, Stace is torched by another visible tremor that sends a full blush over her face. Hopping off the bed, she straightens her scrubs and tidies her hair.
"I like your hair long, by the way. Short and flick-y was nice, but I keep imagining your silky locks trailing over my skin in a way that shorter hair just can't do."
Running her fingers through her straight tresses absently, Stace purses her lips. "I need to go before I actually try and do that," she says, wetting her lips as she shuffles her feet closer to me and hesitates. "What if I can't stop myself? I'm afraid to kiss you."
"You should be," I warn. "You come anywhere near me just now and I won't let you go until I've done unspeakable things to you. You'll definitely get fired when they hear you screaming my name and come to investigate. They'll barge in expecting me to be attacking you. It'll look like I am, but because we'll be naked, they'll probably figure it out soon enough."