“You’re just teasing me now. Taunting.” She took her lower lip in her teeth.
“I’m over the teasing phase. Mostly.” He tilted his mouth toward her upturned and invitingly parted lips, pausing a millimeter away, her exhale whispering against his chin. “Are you sure you want to play TV show? It’s a little risky. You don’t know who might walk in.”
“What part of kiss me now, Hotchkiss, don’t you understand?”
It sounded like she said his name wrong. Not Hotchkiss but hot kiss.
“You mean now?” Well, he’d give it to her—and dial the temperature to a thousand degrees. “I’m getting there. It takes a while to stoke the fire properly.”
He encircled her tapered waist, resting his arms on her perfectly curved hips, pulling her tight against his torso. Her breath compressed from her lungs against his cheek. Her scent made him lightheaded with aching for her, but he wanted to savor this moment—this moment of the goddess begging for his kiss. He’d spent way too many nights of his life imagining this moment to let it speed by.
Instead, he pressed his lips to her jaw line, and her neck stretched long to give him access. He kissed once, twice, and then trailed a few downward. Then he changed direction and pressed his nose into the floral-scented mass of waves that had escaped her ponytail. He found a spot behind her ear, and another just at her earlobe, which he tasted as well. Everything about her was sweet, including her skin.
“Jasher. You’re killing me with suspense.”
“That’s my plan. And then to bring you back to life.” He was well versed in the defibrillator and its function. “Be patient. It’s coming.”
She moaned softly again. Flames erupted everywhere, spreading faster than up the fuse of the cottonwood tree at the Moose Creek Restaurant. He couldn’t delay any longer. It was too overpowering, this desire for her.
Jasher took her face in both his hands and took his first small taste of her lower lip. Just a taste. Then a larger one. And then, the dam broke, and he took her whole mouth with his like she was flint and he was steel, and every strike of their friction would create a fire to burn down the hospital.
To burn down the world.
The sun sank, leaving them in semi-darkness as their kiss took up the remains of the day.
“Oh, Jasher.” Her breath was hot on his cheek. “I didn’t think you could get any better at this, but …”
He stopped her explanation with proof by deepening the kiss and pressing her against the wall near the light switch. This was going a million times better than he’d expected, and he was going to be a TV show cliché before he knew it, and—
“Whoa.” A mood-shattering light flicked on. “What’s going on in here?” Patricia, the mother-hen nurse, stood in the doorway, hands on her generous hips. “Get a room, people. But at least wait until you’ve clocked off your shift, whether it’s over or not. Where’s your professionalism?”
Jasher shielded Sage’s face against his shoulder, pressing it against his scrubs. Maybe this nurse wouldn’t recognize Sage and turn her in for misconduct or whatever. Except he’d already been caught flirting with Sage in the ER. By this woman.
Dang. He really should have looked into the consequences of this choice before acting on the raging impulse that drove him to it. “That’s all the reprimand we need, Patricia. Thank you. If you’ll excuse us for a moment, please.”
“No, I won’t excuse you. I have linens to retrieve and bedpans to change, since our CNAs all seem to be off at some kind of social event tonight. I thought you had more sense, Sage.”
Sage lifted her head and turned around. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her face was red—and the blush hadn’t all been caused by his kiss. Unfortunately. She unsqueezed her eyes. “Usually I do.”
Patricia clucked. “Well, Doc Hotchkiss. You two were obviously a pressure cooker waiting to explode. No use denying it.” Patricia shoved her way into the room and took a stack of sheets and a clean blanket.
Sage straightened her scrubs and caught Jasher’s eye. Was that regret in her gaze? Please don’t let it be regret. He refused to regret a millisecond of that fiery inferno.
Patricia still refused to leave. “You two ought to be a little more considerate. Conduct your make-outs during those dates that Ms. Inchy is overseeing. Unless you’re trying to avoid reporting those to her. Which, I can’t blame you. She’s going to want a play-by-play on every one of those five dates. Mm-hmm.” Patricia tsked knowingly. “Now, get out of here before the shift manager sees you. I’ll cover for you if necessary, but don’t do that again.”
Arms laden with supplies, Patricia bustled away—finally, and Jasher and Sage stood in the now-empty hallway beneath the florescent lights.
Sage tugged at the hem of her top again and smoothed her hair. The chestnut curls were everywhere, her ponytail holder having disappeared somewhere. She looked amazing, all tousled and bothered by him.
Problem was, she might not go for it again, after Patricia’s reaming.
She blinked twice at him. “I’d better go clock out and head home.”
“The rest of the week I’m in my clinic, not seeing hospital patients.”
“Oh.” Sage was looking at the floor. Oh, no. He didn’t want to be that guy. The one who kissed her and instantly dismissed her. That wasn’t how he meant it at all, by telling her his schedule.
“But I will be checking on the patient Powell Barlow now and then, to see if I can diagnose him. Starting tomorrow.”