That was before I watched Evander MacLaine stalk me in a pair of nicely fitted thermal underwear.
I’ve seen him naked.I was his nurse.But we nurses are big on preserving the dignity of our patients.We do whatever we can to provide modesty, whenever practical.It’s one of the ways we honor the trust our patients place in us.
So I tried—I tried really,reallyhard—not to notice how exquisitely beautiful the naked Evander MacLaine was.But whenever I’d catch a glimpse of his powerful form, my fingers would itch for my charcoal and acrylic markers.I was dying to capture the natural wonder that he was.Of course, it didn’t happen.It wasn’t appropriate.
Butholy moly, we nurses are only human, and there was a lot of whispering and giggling the night Evander came in with his femur snapped.The nurse’s station reminded me of the girls’ bathroom during the eighth-grade Sadie Hawkins dance.
In this moment, everything’s different.He’s not my patient.He’s about to become my lover.And my only worry is that when I finally allow myself the pleasure of seeing all of him, I won’t have an oxygen tank nearby.
My life is about to be cleanly divided into two ages—the before Evander age and the after Evander age.
I wonder how much it will change me.
He’s arrived right next to me.He doesn’t touch me, but my breath is already shallow in anticipation.I smell him.He smells like lust and winter air.
I’ll never grow tired of seeing him move.It’s fascinating to see the control he has over his body.Too much grace for a man his size.He eases his way onto his side so that we’re face-to-face, the front of our bodies aligned.
Then he does a side sit-up and grabs the back of his shirt neckline and rips the whole thing over his head, tossing it over his shoulder.I gape at the rippling of his muscles and sinew.
Next, he shoves his hand into the waistband of his bottoms and tries to slide them off, but they snag.
I know what they’re caught on.
His hard cock.
But he gets those suckers off and throws them over his head.
I’m afraid to look.I’m afraid to touch.
It’s happening.
He brings a fingertip to the side of my cheek, then lightly drags it down and swoops it beneath my bottom lip.He traces the shape of my mouth, my chin, my jaw, and all the while his eyes search my face.
It’s an intense moment.It seems as if he’s trying to name what it is he’s seeing.
His black lashes rise and his violet eyes look at me with a question.“Thank you, Phoebe,” he whispers.
That surprises me.“For what?”
He shakes his head, like he’s searching for the words.Then a smile softens his lips.“For choosing me.Wanting me to be the man to satisfy your demands.”
He throws the blanket off me and grabs me around the waist, rolling me on top of him.He brings his hands to either side of my face, holding me in place as he crushes his mouth to mine.
He moves his lips on me, demanding and hot.It’s a kiss I feel all the way down to my chest, the pit of my belly, between my thighs.
I feel myself melt.Surrender.
He lowers his hands to my shoulders, my back.He explores me with his touch, moving with me as I arch and ripple under his hands.
Yessss.
I feel myself drop into him, into his scent, his heartbeat, his strength.I relax into his big body.
I honestly didn’t know.
I didn’t know his kiss would be this intoxicating, that the taste and feel of his mouth on mine could stir up this kind of craving in me.It feels a little wild.A little out of control.
I’m ready, though.I’ve been ready forever.I’m letting myself fall over the edge and into Evander.It’s what I’ve always dreamed of.
