LUKE
I want to fuck this girl so badly I can almost taste her on my tongue already. But her eyes keep rolling into the back of her head, and I know she’s way too drunk for me to keep going.
Even if she says yes, I need to stop. I’m smart enough to know that you don’t have sex with a drunk girl. No matter what. I take a deep breath and try to escape to a place of Zen, hoping my dick will follow suit and calm the fuck down.
That’s when Bree reaches between our bodies and tugs at my jeans, popping the button open. She thrusts her hand into the front of my pants and takes hold of my cock. I guess I made it pretty easy for her, since I’m always commando.
“Bree.” Her name catches in my throat because her grip feels so fucking good. I try to back up, but she doesn’t relent, sliding her hand over my dick. I swallow hard and move my hand to her hip. I need to regain control of the situation before we do something she regrets in the morning, but I can’t remember the last time I wanted to stop a situation like this. Probably never.
“We’re gonna have to hold off on this part.” Our faces are so close our breath mingles. The smell of beer and vanilla wafts from her. Reminding me again that we’ve both had too much to drink.
“Really?” Her question comes out as a pant. She thinks she’s being tricky when she takes hold of my hand on her hip and slides it back between her fucking legs. I can’t help it when my dick swells in her grasp. Her lips twist into a sexy smile of satisfaction and I want to toss being a good guy out the window and throw her legs over my shoulders.
“This”—I remove my hand again and hold it up—“is staying right here.” I place it back on her hip and give it a squeeze. Her chest heaves with a melodramatic sigh, pushing the tight T-shirt covering her tits toward my face. “Don’t be a drama queen,” I tease her.
“I want you inside me, Luke. I’m not just saying that because I’m drunk. I wanted to fuck you the second I saw you at Valhalla.” Bree squeezes my cock.
“Jesus,” I hiss, squeezing my eyes shut. Her grip feels amazing, though I’ve pressed my pelvis against her so that she doesn’t have room to jerk me off. “I want to be with you, too, Bree. So fucking badly. You don’t know how much it hurts, like, physically hurts, right now.”
“I bet I do,” she mumbles.
I smile and move my hand to her head, sliding it through her hair. “But we’ve both had too much to drink. If we try to do this now, you’re never gonna be able to come and it’ll give me a complex even though I know it’s because of the alcohol, not my magic stick.”
“Did you really just call your penis a magic stick?” She asks through a laugh.
I put my finger on her lips. “You are smart and fun and fucking gorgeous. But I’m not the guy that fucks drunk girls. The last thing I want is for you to wake up with regrets.”
She could write a fucking contract in lipstick on my bathroom mirror right now and I still wouldn’t fuck her. Not just because I’m not that kind of guy, but also because the last thing I need is a lawsuit. I’m not saying she’s a bad person, but I don’t know this girl. There are a ton of slimy dudes out there, but there are also some girls that just want to get something from a professional athlete. I honestly don’t get that vibe from Bree, but I have to be smart—for both of us.
She leans in and presses a hand against my chest, the one that doesn’t have a warm firm grip on my dick. “I’m not that drunk,” she sings softly. Her voice is a raspy whisper, and sexy as fuck.
“That’s what every drunk person says before they make a bad decision.”
“If you think my hand feels good, just imagine what my warm, wet mouth feels like.”
Her face hovers over mine, so close that our lips touch when she speaks. She licks my bottom lip before taking it in her mouth. When she tries to move her hand, I press against her harder, restricting her.
“I don’t think sucking your cock would be a bad decision, do you?” she asks.
Fucking hell! Her dirty mouth is such a turn-on I want to ball up my self-control and chuck that shit off the balcony. Bree takes her hand off my dick and grabs my hip to keep me from falling off the couch.
“You’re fucking killing me.” I say, readjusting myself and snuggling into her. Bree laughs and relaxes in my arms. “We can fuck in the morning, when you’ll remember it.” I trace the curve of her body from the side of her rib cage and over her hip.
“So you’re saying it’ll be memorable?” Her voice is soft, drifting into a sexy, sleepy whisper.
“Fireworks and dancing pandas, baby,” I tease, though I have no clue where the dancing pandas came from. I must’ve had more to drink than I realize. “Let’s move this to my bed.”
Instead of answering, she burrows into my chest. I inhale the soothing botanical scent of her hair and feel like I’m in at a high-end spa. Within minutes, Bree’s breathing slows to an even, gentle rhythm and I know she’s passed out.
Though I love the feel of her warm body flush against me, I can’t sleep on Big Red all night. We’d be on the floor with one roll. I gently maneuver Bree off me so I can slide off the couch. Then I lift her up and carry her to my bed.
I’m too tired to think about changing her into makeshift pajamas from my wardrobe. I don’t do anything except shimmy her jeans to the floor. But I feel like a creep leaving her pant-less. What if she wakes up wondering what the fuck she’s doing here and why her clothes are off?
I cross the room and open the top drawer of my dresser, grabbing a pair of green plaid boxers I’ve never worn. Taking great care not to wake her, I slide them up her legs and let them rest loosely on her hips. The sexy sight of Bree’s sleek, tan legs and lacy, pink panties makes my dick swell. I can honestly say that this is the first time I’ve ever gotten excited putting clothes on a woman.
I hightail it to the bathroom to grab a quick, cold shower and relieve my suffering cock. Once I’m finished, I set out an extra toothbrush I found stashed in my drawer. It’s brand-new in the package. I keep it that way in case Bree’s a germophobe or something.
What the fuck do I care if she’s a germophobe? It’s only one night. Odd. I’ve never thought of this shit before with other girls. Then again, it’s been a while since I’ve had anyone over. Been in a bit of a funk since my surgery, as if the loss of my career affected not only my head, but also my libido. But Bree had my dick thicker than Thor’s hammer since the second I saw her at Valhalla.
I crawl into bed and curl against Bree’s side, spooning into her curves. The numbers on the clock glow behind her head, informing me that it’s 10:07 p.m., which is the latest I’ve ever lasted on the night of this pub crawl. It’s one of those crazy, all-day events that starts early and usually ends early. Good thing the boys have a game tomorrow or we’d probably still be tipping back shots of vodka. Those Russians toast to every motherfucking thing.
Her hair falls across my pillow in soft waves, as if she lets it air-dry after washing it. It’s a welcome change from the crunch or grease of women’s hair products. Before I close my eyes, I study Bree’s face, scanning every inch of her smooth, bare skin before settling my gaze on her pink lips, which are slightly parted. For a slight second I imagine her mouth around my dick, as she’d suggested earlier.
I shake my head and smooth a hand through my hair. Should’ve taken her up on that offer before she passed out.
Settling in next to Bree fills me with an odd sense of peace. It’s been too long since I’ve curled up with a woman in my own bed. I don’t invite many girls to my condo. It’s my sanctuary, the only place I can completely relax and forget the problems of life.
I listen to every breath she takes, pretending the stress in my own life washes away every time she exhales. When I finally drift off, it’s with a sense of calm I haven’t felt in years.
BREE
I haven’t been able to get Luke Daniels out of my head. Though I’ve tapped on the simple “Had a great time with you” text he sent me a few hours after I left his condo on multiple occasions, I decided not to respond. He served a purpose—a hot, no-strings-attached purpose. I can’t even remember the last time I had a one-night stand. Probably in college.
A quick fling was exactly what I needed. There’s absolutely no reason to get too involved while on assignment in a city I could never see myself settling down in. Sure, Charlotte is cute, but it’s not home. Hell, it’s barely even a city, I think and chuckle to myself.
“What are you laughing at?” Summer, the nurse who’s training me, asks. She’s nine months pregnant and about to go on maternity leave. “Do you need me to repeat that?”
Shit. The last thing I needed was this poor pregnant lady to think I’m not going to be able to take over for her when she’s gone. Daydreaming of sex with hockey players has already taken up too many hours of my life. Time to get back to business.
“Sorry, Summer. I totally heard you. Something funny just crossed my mind.”
“Your head has been in the clouds all day.” She starts to smile, but she suddenly grimaces.
“You okay?” I ask.
Tonya, another nurse in our unit, runs into the room. I make a mental note of her seemingly supersonic hearing. “That kid about to drop?” she asks.
“Just a small contraction. Nothing crazy. Get back to work,” Summer says, dismissing our concern.
Tonya turns halfway toward the door, then spins around and squints at me.
“Why does Tinkerbell have that dazed look in her eyes like she got some?” she asks.
I’d earned the nickname on my second day. While I’d like to believe it came from my positive attitude and constant smile, I’m sure it had more to do with the glitter specks that kept falling onto my shoulder from the cheap earrings I’d worn that day.
Summer’s head swivels toward me. Her eyes are wide when she asks, “Did you?”
Instead of answering, I gently push her out of the way with my shoulder and take hold of the keyboard and mouse. “This is where I input the notes. I press F3 to get there, right?”
“Yep. And to save—oh shit!” Summer whispers.
Liquid splashes onto the hem of my purple scrubs and then my shoes. Summer is known for carrying a thirty-two-ounce water bottle with her at all times, so my first thought was she must’ve spilled it. But we’re standing at the computer in a patient’s room, and I know she left her water at the nurse’s station.
When I look at her all I see are her dark roots spidering into caramel highlights on the top of her head. She’s bent over, inspecting the spill. Because she’s technically not on duty, Summer’s wearing a maxiskirt instead of the standard scrubs. That’s when I realize it’s not regular old water—or even urine.
It’s amniotic fluid.
Summer’s water just broke all over the floor—and our feet.
“It’s time!” I cry out with glee, ignoring the liquid on my pants.
Everyone in our department has been waiting for Summer to go into labor. We even have a pool going on in the break room. She’s already a week past her due date, and she’s only been coming in to the hospital to train me.
Suddenly, someone touches my elbow and a brusque voice says, “Is everything okay?”
I lift my eyes to the tall man hovering over me. Luke Daniels. What the hell is Luke doing here? In Jack Dellinger’s hospital room?
“Summer’s in labor,” I manage to squeak, remembering that my coworker is about to have a baby.
My heart jackrabbits in my chest, revved by surprise that the ridiculously attractive hockey player I had a one-night stand with is standing in front of me. My gaze is immediately drawn to those full lips that have kissed every inch of my skin first and the thick, dark hair I loved to grab onto next. Though his eyes are especially dreamy, it’s his rough, scratchy voice that makes me want to drag him into a utility closet for some seven-minutes-in-heaven action.
Luke’s eyes widen and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He looks completely bewildered as he turns his attention to Summer. I know he wants to help, but he seems to be frozen. Can’t blame him.
“Hot damn!” Tonya yells, running into the room bumping Luke to the side with a clean hip check to move him out of the way. “Today was my day. Pay up, ladies!”
Summer laughs and shakes her head. “Before you collect your winnings, can you please grab my phone so I can call Dan?”
I raise my hand quickly. “I’m on it.”
Before I can take a step, Luke grabs my elbow again. His touch causes a shiver to move up my spine. He leans in, his lips almost brushing my ear as he says, “Shouldn’t we be rushing her somewhere?”
“She’s okay,” I assure him with a smile. “One of us will get her to labor and delivery.”
Luke watches with concern as Summer waddles out of the room. “How are you so calm? I feel like I’m going to puke.”
I put my hand on his shoulder, which brings his attention back to me. “She’s completely fine. I promise. Couldn’t have happened around more knowledgeable people. Well, except actual labor nurses,” I quip. It’s a lame healthcare professional joke, but Luke smiles as well.
