Nursing The Doctor (22 page)

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Authors: Bobby Hutchinson

BOOK: Nursing The Doctor
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“I win. Now I want you to come with me,” he’d said in a low and urgent tone, and she had. There wasn’t a nurse or a patient in sight, and for a dizzy moment she wondered if he’d arranged to have the ward evacuated. She wouldn’t put it past him.

He’d opened the door and turned on the overhead light when they entered, locking the door carefully again behind them. Now he struck a match and lit the fat candle he’d brought along, and without a word she switched off the harsh overhead.

He placed the candle on a shelf, and the room was suddenly bathed in shadows. There was no window, and Lily had the feeling they were in a cave, a safe, protected place. Even the ordinary hospital sounds were muted here, and they disappeared altogether when Greg drew a CD out of his pocket and slipped it into a player.

There was the sound of a single guitar, softly strummed, and then a haunting male voice singing of love lost and found.

“Lily, come here to me.” Greg’s soft, deep voice was hypnotic, and she took the step that brought her beside him and then dropped to her knees beside his chair.

His hand stroked her cheek and her hair, and his thumb caressed her lips, back and forth, hypnotic and slow.

Arousing. She shivered. The desire for him that smoldered like a muffled flame grew stronger inside her belly. She drew his thumb into her mouth and heard his breath hiss in and out again.

“You’re going to have to help me with this, sweetheart.” His voice was rough, filled with the same longing she was feeling.

“I know. I will.” She looked up at him, knowing her heart was reflected in her eyes. “I want so much for you to love me, Greg.”

He groaned and leaned forward, cupping the back of her head in his palm and taking her lips in a kiss that shot bolts of desire through her. His lips caressed and captured, demanded and pleaded, hinted at what would come.

“Lily.” He breathed her name and outlined her lips with his tongue, capturing them again and angling his head so their mouths met and parted and met again in a decisive, intoxicating dance that lasted forever and yet not nearly long enough.

“My beautiful woman, my beautiful Lily.”

His fingers outlined her ear, stroked her neck, trailed down across her collarbone to her breast, cupping and then catching her nipple through her clothing and squeezing gently, bringing a muffled exclamation from her lips.

“Let’s lie down over there.” He moved to the exercise mats and she followed. He slid from chair to floor clumsily, landing hard and shutting his eyes and cursing softly at what must have been pain from his injured ribs. He opened his eyes again and grinned up at her ruefully.

“Oh, my poor love. Damn these casts and this broken body. This is a dream come true, and I’m crippled, Goddamn it. I wish with all my heart that I could undress you, kiss you everywhere, do all the things I fantasize about”

“I can take my own clothes off, and yours as well,” she murmured. “It’s enough that we’re here, together.”

It was. She could do the things he couldn’t. The power that gave her was intoxicating. Whatever happened was her choice, limited only by her imagination and daring.

The music, the candlelight lent an air of magic to the small room. Greg’s eyes were intent on her every move, and slowly, marveling at her own courage, tom between shyness and raw desire, she began to remove her clothing.

She slid out of her shoes and tugged off her socks, balancing easily on the ball of first one foot and then the other. She’d never had any problem with nudity, but neither had she ever taken her clothing off with such deliberate intent to arouse. She was pleased that her body was slender and strong, relieved that the candlelight was flattering.

With slow, deliberately provocative movements, she slipped her sweater off over her head, flirting with him from beneath its hem, using it to shield her breasts and then reveal them. She wore a white lace bra, low cut and sheer enough that her erect nipples were clearly visible beneath the fabric.

His heavy-lidded gaze was urgent, almost like a touch as slowly, hesitantly, she reached back and undid the bra’s clasp, sliding the straps with excruciating slowness down her arms, dropping it to the floor.

“Lily. You’re so beautiful you take my breath away.” His voice was uneven and rough, and she could see his arousal straining against his sweatpants.

Her own desire smoldered, its soft fire stroking deep inner places that grew heavy with need.

They were still yards apart, but between them was a thick and pulsing cord of longing and urgency, and yet she resisted the driving impulse to hurry, to fly to his arms. Instead she smiled seductively and undid the fastening on her jeans, wriggling them down ever so slowly, leaving her lacy white bikini panties in place as she let the denim drop to the floor. She stepped free.

“Love, come here to me. Please come here to me.” There was both command and entreaty in Greg’s tone, and with slow and measured steps, Lily approached the mats and dropped to her knees, hooking her thumbs under the elastic on her hips, wriggling in frankly provocative fashion as she slid the panties down her thighs and off.

Her naked body pulsed and burned, wanting him.

She leaned over him, and with the expertise gained from years of nursing, she stripped off his clothing, catching her breath at the sheer beauty of his male body and the very visible indication of his desire for her. His broad chest was sprinkled liberally with soft curly hair, and his wide shoulders and narrow waist and hips reflected the athlete he’d always been.

She bent over and kissed his mouth, glorying in the electric jolt that shot through her as her sensitive naked breasts grazed his bare skin for the first time.

“That’s it, sweetheart, lie on me.” His uninjured arm snaked around her, strong as an iron band, drawing her down and across him, and the kiss she’d initiated spiraled out of control. She moaned and ran her hands over him, every nerve ending aware of his skin, of sinew, bone and muscle and male hardness laid bare to her touch.

This was Greg, the man she loved, the man she’d fantasized about for months.

His hand cupped her breast, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger, sending electric jolts through her limbs, robbing her of breath, igniting her desire to white-hot desperation. He pressed a small foil package into her hand.

“I can’t even do this without a lot of fumbling. Please, Lily, put it on for me and then take me inside you.”

Gracefully, she did as he asked, and then, unable to resist any longer, she straddled him and lifted her body, sliding down slowly, drawing him into her so naturally it seemed this was what she’d been born to do, this perfectly natural, beautiful dance between lovers.

She gave a muted cry of pleasure as she lifted and lowered herself on him, at first slowly and then with increasing urgency.

His hand roved up and down her, exploring, stroking, igniting breasts and belly and the tender, urgent spot between her legs until at last there was no space for thoughts. There was only feeling, rapture so intense she truly believed she could die from it.

She cried out, wordless and frantic.

“Lily, I love you. Lily, I will always love you.” His words were a mantra whose gasping rhythm matched the pounding of the blood in her veins. His eyes locked with hers, mutely begging for release, and with one final shuddering stroke, she found the place she’d always longed to be, and he was there, waiting.

His wild cry mingled with hers and she tumbled forward, collapsing on his chest, forgetting his sore ribs, forgetting everything except the exultation of coming home at last When the contractions deep in her body eased and she could think again, she lifted herself up so her weight wasn’t entirely on him.

“We’ve wrecked your ribs,” she panted.

“To hell with my ribs.” He pulled her down again and held her against him. “Let’s break the rest of them. Oh, Lily, sweet Lily, I love you.”

She nestled against him, savoring the closeness, the delight of having his body pressed close to hers, his arm around her. “How did you find this room?”

She felt him chuckle. “You won’t believe it.” He told her, and she was astounded.

“She told me if I broke your heart I’d answer to her.” He wasn’t laughing now. “So I made a solemn promise that it wouldn’t ever happen.” She thought of all the other women he’d made love to and then dumped. She thought of his injuries, and the fact that they’d heal. How much would everything change when he recovered? She couldn’t prevent the tiny niggling doubt that suddenly replaced some of the uncomplicated joy inside her.

He was a man, and men were unreliable when it came to matters of the heart. Lily gently extricated herself from his embrace.

“We mustn’t take advantage of Vivian Krupps’s kindness, Greg. It’s getting late, and I have to work tomorrow.” She found his clothing and helped him into it, then pulled on her own garments. He watched, and she knew he was aware that she’d moved away emotionally as well as physically.

“When you get a break in the ER tomorrow, will you come and see me?” he said. “We need to talk.”

“I will,” she promised.

With her help, he got back into the wheelchair. She rescued his CD from the player and checked to make sure the room held no trace of their presence.

Just before he opened the door, she extinguished the candle, and in the darkness, he drew her down for one last, lingering kiss.

“Just remember that I love you, Lily. Whenever the buts start bothering you, remember that.”

She knew she loved him, too, but some of the magic was missing for her now. Somehow the ghosts of other women were there between them, and even though she tried, she couldn’t seem to exorcise them.

 

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

 

The ER was busy on Sunday, and it was after 2:00 p.m. before Lily managed a break. She raced along the winding corridors to rehab, only to find that Greg’s brothers were visiting. Theo and Jeremy, big, handsome men, were obviously ill at ease and doing their best to cover it with banter.

Greg, too, was uncomfortable; he drew her close and introduced her, his arm possessively around her waist, but she could feel the tension in his body.

Theo and Jeremy left just as Ben Halsey arrived. He was with a giddy young woman named Candi. It was evident she knew Greg very well. She chattered away about a camping trip they’d all taken the summer before with someone called Rita.

Greg tried to include Lily in the conversation, but she felt increasingly uncomfortable, and it was a relief to have to hurry back to work.

He phoned her in the ER a short time later.

“They’ve finally gone. I oughta go back to being a tyrant and insist on no visitors,” he said ruefully. “All I want is to be alone with you. When I get out of here, we’re gonna take a room in a hotel with room service and just stay there as long as we want.”

Lily heard a familiar voice in the background say, “Can I come, Doc? Can I please? I never stayed at a hotel.”

“Sammy, I’m trying to have a private conversation here, would you shut up for a minute?”

Greg’s voice was exasperated, and Lily could hear Sammy saying, “I’ll shut up, but I brought the cards so’s we can play. You said you’d show me poker. I really wanna learn poker, okay, Greg? Okay? Can we play?”

Greg groaned. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Lily laughed, but as she hung up she, too, felt resentful of the lack of privacy. They hadn’t had a chance to really talk to each other since they’d made love, and she needed contact, she needed reassurance, she needed...

Yoicks. What she really needed was someone who could tell her what to do. She knew she loved Greg. She just needed to know if it was possible for her to trust him.

 

 

The realization of exactly what a life with Greg might offer was illustrated for Lily on Monday afternoon when a tiny redheaded woman, hugely pregnant and familiar to all the ER staff, exploded through the doors just after 5:00 p.m. She was in labor, and she was supported by a white-faced teenager.

“Get me a stretcher. This baby’s crowning, I can feel him coming,” Morgan hollered in the interval between her contractions.

The staff sprang into action. Dr. Morgan Jacobsen was everyone’s favorite obstetrician. She’d delivered babies for half the nurses at SL Joe’s, and if she said her baby was coming, she knew what she was talking about.

Her adopted daughter, Tessa, was hysterical.

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