The Reluctant Romantics Box Set (The Fall, The Mind, The Heart)

“Discretion, Jules, Jesus,” I said, pushing her to sit on the cheap plastic bench in the middle of the locker room.

“Tell me something, anything,” she said, exasperated, as I changed socks and tied my shoes.

“He seems to be a really good guy,” I said, knowing the shit I was about be given for being so vague.

“That is not what I want to hear,” she said, standing to pace in front of me.

“We haven’t even made it past first base, okay?”

Jules narrowed her eyes. “Is that why you’re wearing sexy underwear?”

“What?”

She pulled at the strap on my hip and let it snap back. I jumped in surprise as I pulled my pants up further to cover it.

“I have nothing to tell,” I said defensively. “We have surgery in twenty minutes. Stop bullshitting,” I snapped.

“Fine, jeez,” she said, pulling on a fresh set of scrubs over her ample ass. “See if I give you another play by play.”

“I never ask for them. You overshare, and anyways, we’re too old to have nothing to talk about except men.”

Jamie came in just as I was ridding myself of Jules’ inquisition and her eyes widened perceptively.

“Nothing happened,” I said as Jamie held up her hands in defense and looked over at Jules, who gave her a solid nod.

“But it’s going to?” Jules nodded and motioned over to me. “Silk panties and matching bra.”

“That’s it, I’m leaving. I’ll see you in surgery.” It wasn’t like me to clam up when they’d been so open. I’d decided, like everything else, including my pain, to keep my new relationship to myself for the moment. I was all too aware of just how easily things could change.

The awareness had me pause mid-step as I made my way toward OR 3.

Fear crept through my limbs, familiar and unwelcomed. I pushed my shoulders back and narrowed my focus. It was go time. The person on that table needed me to be the surgeon I’d trained to be and would get nothing less.

“You’ll have to take your shi

rt off,” I said to Jack, who stood at the foot of the machine. “If you don’t mind.”

He gave me a sexy, crooked smile, the scar above his lip highlighted by the lighting of the room. “I was kind of hoping you would be the one to do that.”

I took a confident step toward him and gripped the hem of his shirt. “You were, huh?”

“Except in my scenario, we weren’t in a cold, sterile room. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said ladies choice tonight. Dinner,” he said as I brushed my lips against his, “dancing,” he continued as I kissed him again. “A movie, maybe? You know, something standard.”

“It’s what I want,” I said, leaning in to place one last kiss on his scar. He stood, expectant, a challenge in his eyes as I lifted his shirt and studied the wall of solid muscle that stood before me. He was sculpted to perfection. Jack’s chest and torso were ripped with muscle, solid pecs, an eight pack, and even the pebbled muscle that stretched from under his ribcage and trailed around to his back. He’d worked hard for that body, and I had no intentions of not appreciating it. I didn’t even hesitate as I leaned in and kissed his chest where his heart lay. I heard him inhale as he wrapped his fists in my hair in an attempt to gently pull me away. I didn’t let him deter me as I soaked up his skin, moving with precision as my hands explored him. I trailed my mouth along his chest before I covered one of his nipples and flicked my tongue.

“Rose,” Jack whispered as both a prayer and a curse.

I moved my tongue along the middle of his chest, sucking and licking up to the hollow of his neck before I went in again, tasting him with greed, letting my hands roam where they wanted. His hands twisted firmly in my hair as he pulled me back to meet his eyes, which were filled with fire. Arousal soaking every inch of me, I turned my head and sank my teeth into his defined bicep as he cradled me.

“Fuck,” Jack whispered.

I took a step back and pulled my shirt over my head, revealing my heaving chest and tight nipples. Jack bit his lip and jerked me to him, our mouths met needier than ever. Tongues thrashing, his groan matched the need of my moan as we collided and teased with the same hunger.

He drew back as his hand moved up my stomach to cup my breast. I pushed into his hand in want.

“Yes,” I encouraged, needing him more than I’d needed anything in a very long time.

I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch as his calloused hands roamed over my skin. His mouth devoured my nipple through the silky material. In protest of wanting nothing between us, I pulled down the cup, greedy for contact, and cried out as he took my peaked nipple between his lips.