She was dog-tired as she crawled beneath the covers, but it was a long time before she fell asleep.
Mitch kissed Megs to wakefulness,his lips doing amazing things to hers.
She opened her eyes, saw that he was young again. “But you’re hurt. You’re in ICU in a vegetative state.”
He gave her a smile that made her melt. “This is an erotic dream.”
Okay, then. “Bring it on.”
He kissed her long and deep and slow. She relaxed into it, ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, savoring the hard feel of his muscles.
He was strong. He’d always been strong.
One callused hand found an aching nipple and teased her until she wanted more. Then he kissed his way down her throat and took that same nipple into his mouth, groaning as he began to suckle her.
Her hips jerked, pleasure building deep in her belly. Aching for him, she reached for his cock, found him hard and ready for her. “Fuck me.”
“Glad to.” He nudged her thighs apart, angling his hips and thrusting slowly forward as she guided him inside her.
God, it felt good.
They moaned in unison as he moved, his cock filling her, stretching her. But no matter how hard he drove into her and no matter how aroused she became, she couldn’t seem to come.
Mitch’s gaze met hers. “It’s just an erotic dream. Remember?”
Just a dream.
Megs awoke with a jerk to find herself alone and incredibly horny, an unbearable ache in her heart—and between her thighs.
Mitch.
It had seemed so real, as if he’d truly been there, kissing her, touching her, making love to her. But he was still in the ICU, fighting to live.
She closed her eyes, reached down to touch herself, trying to bring the dream back. Mitch wouldn’t mind. Of that, she was certain. He’s the one who’d encouraged her to masturbate, after all.
She imagined him there, pounding into her, her climax coming hard and fast. But there was emptiness in its wake—no Mitch to laugh with or to hold her. Nothing but cold, harsh reality.
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand, saw that it was just after six. She got up, took another shower, and ordered breakfast—an egg white omelet, sliced fruit, and coffee. She ate, dressed, and headed back to the hospital, this time parking near the ER and not outside the main entrance.
When she reached the ICU, she found the room with the young boy empty, the bed made. Had he gotten better or… She remembered the anguish on his parents’ faces and decided she didn’t want to know.
Mitch was in a semi-sitting position, the head of his bed raised, his eyes closed, the earbuds in his ears, the recorder playing.
She removed the earbuds, turned off the recorder, and leaned close to avoid being overheard by nurses standing near his door. “I had the most erotic dream about you. I had to take matters into my own hands afterward. I got so turned on—”
A beautiful black nurse with long braids walked into the room. “I’m Fabiola, an RN here in ICU. I’ll be Mitch’s nurse today while Debby’s off. I hear you’ve been helping Riana with his PT exercises and making recordings for him. That’s great.”
It didn’t feel like much to Megs. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s still running that fever, but his intracranial pressure is slowly dropping. That’s what we like to see.”
“He opened his eyes yesterday, but they’re closed now. Does that mean he’s going backward?”
Fabiola shook her head. “It’s normal for people in vegetative states to revert to a normal sleep schedule. He’ll probably open his eyes again here soon. I’ll be back to tend his vent shortly. There’s fresh coffee if you’d like some.”
“Hell, yes. Thanks.” Megs made her way to the coffee pot, poured herself a cup, and walked back to Mitch’s bedside.
She picked up the journal and recorder and sat in the chair beside him. “As I was saying, that dream turned me on so much that I had to handle things myself. I would much rather have been with you.”
