Sugar and Sin Bundle

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  He dismissed the residents but stayed in the room. Finally he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. He held it as he flipped the switch on his chair that pushed him to standing. Then he bent over her and kissed her lips, cradling her head in his hand. Violet’s arms wound around him as she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss. His tongue tasted her mouth, traced her lips, found her tongue. A moan escaped her throat. and she felt him smile as the kiss continued. She smiled at the low growl from him but stopped as he pulled away.

  "I'm very proud of you. I know it is terrifying the first time, but tomorrow you'll be walking up and down the corridor on your own." He laughed at her shocked expression. "No, truly you will and be happy for it."

  As shaken as she felt, she couldn't resist teasing him just a little "Will I get kisses then, too?"

  He shook his head no, but his smile never left his face. "You are trouble, my dear."

  "I'd like to be your trouble. Come back tonight? I know the storm is not as bad as last night but..." Violet was shocked at herself. She was flirting with her handsome doctor, and he seemed to like it. "You did promise me chocolates."

  "I also promised you a sponge bath."

  Violet blushed from the roots of her hair to her toenails. She was suddenly consumed with the thought of Michael giving her a sponge bath. It sounded like the most sensual thing in the world at that moment. Her pulse sped up, her breasts swelled and ached as the nipples became hard knots. She clenched her thighs together as moisture drenched the curls between them. Michael must have realized what she was thinking as his gaze wandered over her body, his eyes darkened and took on a faraway look. They stared at each other for a minute till she gasped, shuddering with longing, and broke the spell.

  He cleared his throat but it still came out hoarse when he said. "I'll send one of the nurses in to you. Unfortunately, I am not properly trained in the technique."

  Violet knew he was never the one who was going to be giving her the bath but the fantasy was too good to pass up. "I'm sure you could muddle through," she said under her breath. She smiled and knew he had at least considered the idea when he started coughing.

  "Yes, trouble. I don't know when I will be able to get back here this evening. Most likely not till after visiting hours are over. Have you heard from your brother yet?"

  She smiled at his relief at changing the subject and that he would be coming back. "No, I haven't heard from Allyn. I expect that he is trapped in Europe somewhere with the storm still here. If I know him, he went to my mother's family in France. They are very fond of him, and he, them. I don't expect he'll be here till tomorrow and then only if the storm stops tonight. I think we can sneak one more meeting in before he gets here."

  "I'll look forward to seeing you then, Ms. Bellows." And he kissed the back of her hand like a knight in shining armor. Violet had her bath coming but she could tell the day was going to drag by until tonight.

  At eight thirty that evening, Michael skirted the nurses station on Violet's floor. Because of the storm, the hospital was still running with a skeleton crew. Not an ideal situation for patient care, but if it hadn't been this way, he and Violet would not have been able to have this time together. The thought made him pause. What were they doing? She wasn't married, as he had originally thought. He didn't think she was acting like this because of any of the pain killers. She had flirted with him even before that.

  He tried to reassure himself that he wasn't taking advantage of the situation. So far all they had shared were some stolen kisses. He was attracted to her like no woman he had ever met, but where could this all lead? Why would a woman that stunning choose to spend time with a man as broken as he was? Obviously, she wouldn't as soon as she was released from the hospital. She was using him to allay her fears, even if it was only subconsciously. Once she was back to her regular life she would treat him like just her doctor again. All of this was because of her fear of hospitals. Even her brother had spoken to him about it. That had to be it. The thought burned the back of his throat.

  He opened the door to her room and could tell she was asleep by the soft snoring. Most likely from the pain killers, but the thought of a woman that perfect snoring made him smile. He wheeled over to her and lowered the bed carefully so as not to wake her. She really did look like a fantasy princess from a children's book. Her glorious hair had been pulled back, revealing the nape of her neck. Michael felt himself consumed with desire to kiss that secret place hidden behind all those curls. As he leaned closer, he could smell her unique scent, a mix of herbs and some kind of green wood, plus her pheromones. He was captivated, and all his thoughts of explaining rationally why they couldn't continue like this were forgotten, replaced by the urge to kiss, to taste, to smell. He wanted to run his fingers along her hairline there and watch her shiver. Without another thought he softly nuzzled the back of her neck, lightly brushing his lips down her spine just there. He figured she would wake at his touch and was surprised when she started murmuring.

  "Mmmm, Michael, I love you too." The words were spoken softly as she slept but clearly enough that there was no mistaking what she had said.

  Michael startled, and she came fully awake. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled up at him. "I knew you'd come back. I was having the most wonderful dream."

  He was still trying to catch his breath. She couldn't possibly love him. He had to have heard wrong. "Um, yes, I came back. I brought you chocolate like I promised, too." He pulled the chocolate from one of the saddlebags on his chair as she carefully turned over.

  "Michael, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost. I can't be that scary when I wake up, can I?"

  She really had been sleeping. It must have been as he suspected. She had convinced herself that she had feelings for him to get through the ordeal of the surgery and being in the hospital. Maybe if he talked about it with her, she would realize that it was happening, and she would go back to acting like any of his other patients.

  "No, you are not scary at all. You are beautiful, in fact. Since you are much more relaxed than last night I thought we could talk for a while. I, um, won't be able to stay as long as I did last night, I'm afraid. Are you comfortable enough off of the morphine pump?"

  "Yes, I'm all right. I understand you can't stay as long." She couldn't help looking disappointed. "What did you want to talk about?"

  "You."

  "Oh, I'm not very interesting, I'm afraid. I'm twenty-nine. I live with my brother in our parents’ house. They died when I was twelve, and Allyn was my guardian till I came of age. I always felt bad for him being so young—he was twenty-two when they died—and being saddled with me. Did all the usual stuff, college and what not, and now I am here."

  "That was a very practiced evasion that told me nothing about you."

  Violet started to laugh. "I should have known you wouldn't accept that. Sorry. Yes, I've gotten too good at not talking about me. I'll let you ask five questions, and I will answer them as truthfully as possible."

  "Okay, though I suspect only five will just scratch the surface. What do you do for a living?"

  "Oh, we are going to get the boring stuff out of the way first? Fine. I work for a nonprofit that deals with healthcare advocacy in third world countries. I'm here in the Boston office. That is one. Do I get to ask you questions?"

  "I suppose it would only be fair. Within reason, mind you."

  "Hmm, Where are you most ticklish?"

  "Violet! I.... Why do you want to know?"

  "It may be important information later."

  "You are the most confounding."

  "Just answer the question, Doctor."

  "Fine. I suppose under my arms. To be honest, I can't remember the last time someone tickled me."

  "That will need to be rectified."

  "You wouldn't dare." The smile she leveled at him told him she not only would but might be planning her attack as he sat there. He stared back at her with his mouth agape. Oh, if a woman like this could indeed love
him. But no, he was convinced this was merely a case of her need to distance herself from the hospital environment.

  "Your next question, Doctor?"

  "I...I can't remember what I was going to ask now." Michael shook his head to clear it. She befuddled him, and that was not a feeling he was used to. "Okay, I know you like opera. Have you ever been to see it live?"

  "When I was a child, my parents had season tickets to the Met. I used to love going with them. It was like they were the king and queen, and I was their princess. Everything sparkled and was so beautiful. The building, the costumes, the music. Everything was magical. Back then everyone got dressed up. The last time I saw a show in New York, there were so many people in jeans. I am glad they were supporting and enjoying the show, but it made me miss when it was a bigger event." She seemed lost in thought, possibly remembering her parents.

  Michael had to take this opportunity to get her to talk about them.

  "Violet, how did your parents die?"

  She stared at him blankly, though the pain in her eyes was unmistakeable.

  "Oh, Michael, I... they died in a plane crash."

  "Violet, I know you were with them; your brother told me. I think..."

  "Michael, I really don't want to talk about this. I.... There is no going back and changing things. You can only deal with the pain and move forward. I learned that early on. Please don't make me talk about this."

  "But if it affects you still, then it is a part of your present and your future for as long as you hold on to it. I think talking about it will help you move past it enough that your fear of hospitals and storms might be less."

  "Michael, I have spent more time with doctors than you could possibly imagine, including shrinks that wanted to help me work through the pain. Nothing changes."

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My parents took me to New York for my birthday. The Met was putting on La Traviata. They treated me like a princess but then they always did, only in retrospect did I actually appreciate it. We ended up caught in a storm on the way back and the plane crashed in the woods. The pilot and my father were killed instantly.” She held her breath for a moment and he saw the sadness wash over her. Another breath and she continued. “My mother was hurt badly but she didn't let me know it. She kept telling me that help would be there soon. It didn't come soon enough and she passed away too. I was there for twenty-eight more hours. When they found me I had been screaming for so long I didn't make any noise anymore.”

  "Violet, that is heart wrenching but you don't seem terrified now."

  She laughed. "No, I'm not. You’re here."

  "Why would that make a difference?"

  She took a deep breath. "You relax me."

  "Why?" She looked at him through her lashes and blushed. It was killing him to destroy how she felt about him, but it was the right thing to do.

  "Because of how I feel about you. That was your third question. My turn. Do you have a girlfriend?"

  Michael blushed. "No. I'm not letting you change the subject, Violet."

  "No, you don't have a girlfriend, or no, you won't let me change the subject?"

  "No, no girlfriend, and I'm not letting you change the subject."

  She grinned back at him.

  "Wait. That would include boyfriend too, right?"

  "Violet, I am not attracted to men, but I think I am stating the obvious when I mention that I’m in a wheelchair. I haven't dated since, well, ever really. I think this is getting into personal areas that I don't want to discuss."

  "Oh, too touchy, Doctor. You seemed more than determined to open my darkest secrets."

  She narrowed her eyes and stared him down. There it was again. The glint of steel under her elegant feminine exterior intrigued him more than he wanted to admit. This was the kind of woman who would keep a man challenged for a lifetime. His head ached from trying to keep himself from taking her in his arms and kissing her senseless.

  "I've decided I am bored with your game. Frankly, you ask very dull questions," she said, doing her best impression of a spoiled society girl. As she did, she reached out and poked her finger gently to his long nose.

  He almost laughed. No one had ever treated him the way this woman did. Even his mother had been a very cool personality. She loved him but was never physically affectionate, even before his illness and the chair. After, everyone treated him as if some invisible force field buzzed around him. Not Violet. She was touchy and impertinent and made him feel alive, confused as hell, but alive. She was holding him pinned with her finger on his nose. He felt slightly ridiculous. All he had to do was back up to break the contact, but he couldn't seem to make himself do it.

  Violet took the top off the box of chocolates and squealed like a child.

  "I love dark chocolate cherry cordials!" She plucked one from the box and took a big bite. The liquor from the candy dripped from the corner of her mouth as she happily devoured the rest of the piece of candy. As she ate the treat, her eyes never left his. Her hand moved to caress his cheek with the back of her fingers. Eventually, she grasped his beard, gently but firmly pulling him toward her. Michael was staring at the red drip at the corner of her mouth and couldn't help licking his lips at the thought of tasting it. She seemed to want it, too.

  The kiss started sweetly enough. Her lips felt so warm under his. She murmured something in appreciation, but then it became a flash flood of sensation. The kiss at the corner of her mouth with the sticky sweet syrup led to him exploring the taste of the dark chocolate on her tongue. The mix of the candy and her unique taste sent him over the edge. She matched him as their tongues swept the breath from the other. Her hands were fisted in his hair, pulling at him, driving him on. His mind lost to reason, everything male in him responding to everything female in her. He kissed across her jaw and down her throat. She traced her tongue along the edge of his ear and sucked the lobe into her mouth. He moaned, unconscious of what he was doing.

  His hands, which had held her shoulders, moved down her arms and then spanned her rib cage. So delicate, the only thought in his head. As he moved his hands over the soft cotton of the johnny coat to the fullness of her breasts, even that thought was blotted out by single-minded desire. The civilized man was disappearing, replaced by a primal hunger that had been too long denied.

  He broke the kiss and stared into her eyes as he slowly unsnapped the shoulder of her gown, one snap at a time. With each pop, her breath caught in her throat, but she never moved her hands from his head. When he let the front fall, his hands cupped her rosy tipped breasts. His large strong hands seemed made to match them; they filled them so perfectly. He bent his face to bury himself in them, inhaling the scent of her. She gasped when his beard grazed the tops of them.

  He reveled in how sensitive she was to his touch, so he rubbed his beard across her nipples and was rewarded with shivers shaking her whole body. He was consumed with her reactions to him, to his touch. Nothing could keep him from enjoying this woman. Even doing surgery had never felt as powerful as making Violet gasp and sigh almost at will. He wanted to discover every intonation of her delight. He lowered the bed so it was flat and she was laid out before him like a buffet to a starving man.

  He moved back to the hollow at her throat and almost laughed at her groan of displeasure. He feasted on that hollow and turned the groan into a sigh. She still had one hand cupping the back of his head, the other had reached over her head to clutch at the sheets above her. She looked ready to have her picture painted by one of the Impressionists, a lover at rest. As beautiful as she looked in the half light, he didn't want her at rest. He wanted to see her as crazed as he felt right now.

  He leaned forward, and his hand landed in the box of candy. He held one in his hand as he unsnapped the side of her gown. He groaned when he revealed her body. Yes, he had seen her naked when he operated, but then he had stared at her with clinical detachment. There was nothing detached about his gaze now. His chest ached at her beauty. Everything was
soft, made for a man's pleasure and touch. He wanted to drink her in, get drunk on the feel and taste of her. He smiled and brought the cordial over her. He used his teeth and nipped a small hole in it. All the while making sure she had her eyes on him. He dripped the sticky syrup down her body from the valley of her breasts to her pubic mound, leaving no question of what he intended.

  Violet moaned, she couldn't help it. Every touch of his set her on fire. The minute the kiss changed, she knew she would be writhing under the spell he was weaving. She needed more of him. "Take off your shirt." She managed in a hoarse whisper. He looked at her like he barely registered her voice but reached up and pulled his scrub top off. As he bent toward her body, she stopped him. He could have what he desired in a moment, first she wanted to touch him.

  His shoulders were magnificent, each turn of muscle perfectly proportioned for his frame. His chest was neatly divided, and she couldn't resist running her fingers down the cut of his pecs and watching him quake. Her hands spread across the wide expanse and caressed his flat nipples with her thumbs. She smiled as his desire-darkened eyes drooped. Oh, how she would have loved to use her mouth on him. It would take a week to kiss all of him. As much as she could get lying flat on her back was one finger under his chin to guide him to her lips. His kiss left her breathless and covered in goosebumps. She hadn't expected him to be so playful, earnest. Heartfelt yes, but this, being covered in candy syrup, the way he teased her with his beard was beyond anything she could have asked for. She had hoped he would be a thoughtful lover. She hadn't guessed that he would be inventive.

  He hovered over her, staring into her eyes. What she saw there was all male and not at all tame, such a contrast to the courtly doctor he had been at other times. The thought of him like this made her mouth water. She had wanted to see him like this from the moment she laid eyes on him. He held out the cherry still in the chocolate and fed it to her as she stared back at him. Without a word, he started licking at the sticky trail he'd left on her body. She was trembling with need, every touch of his tongue turning the knots in her gut tighter. At her breasts, he detoured from the path. He used his mouth to make her moan, his soft wet tongue followed by the rasp of his beard. When she didn't think she could stand anymore he sucked her nipples to even harder points. The soft bite of pain rocketing to her sex and making her ache even more.