Meredith City is a major health care hub, located in the upper Midwest. With a large trauma center, the nursing staff puts up with difficult schedules in exchange for the opportunity to work there. Not all of the opportunities are purely medical…
Shari sat in the doctor’s lounge, bouncing a stiletto on one foot.
Damn. Why had she believed Brad that this would be a “quick stop” at the hospital? She loved her brother, but come on. She’d flown in from Texas to spend the holiday weekend with him, and here she sat. All dressed up for dinner at Chez La Fete and parked in the physician’s lounge.
She leaned back and looked at the ceiling.
The door opened in the foyer, carrying the noise of a wet vac and the scent of industrial strength cleaner. Hangers clanked together, and she heard Brad’s voice speaking with someone. Her brother walked around the corner, black hair pulled back in a ponytail, dressed up for dinner.
Wearing his white clinic coat.
With a gorgeous guy behind him. If this was another one of Brad’s boyfriends, she’d kill him. Shari stood and gathered her raincoat.
“Hey. Glad you’re still here.” Brad strolled over.
Like she could go anywhere? She didn’t have a car or a map. “Yep. Still here.”
Brad blasted her with one of his famous hundred watt smiles. “Shari, this is Reece.”
Chocolate brown eyes, blond hair, and built. Just Brad’s type. She held out her hand. “Hello, Reece. Nice to meet you.”
“Hi. The pleasure’s mine.”
Warm handshake and a terrific fragrance. Why did the good ones always turn out to be gay?
“Will you be joining us for dinner?” She smiled sweetly.
The blond’s eyes widened, and he threw a quick look at Brad.
“I’m kind of stuck here.” Brad looped his stethoscope around his neck. “I thought you guys could go to dinner, and I’ll catch up in forty-five minutes or so.”
Oh, crap. He wasn’t really going to do this to her, was he?
“Maybe we should reschedule.” She glared a hole through Brad.
“But I had to book way ahead. Don’t want to lose the reservation.” Brad gave her a blue-eyed wink.
Damn. Shari chewed her lip. He knew how much she wanted to try the restaurant, the weasel. She’d harangued him for months, threatening to cancel her visit if he didn’t deliver on his promise to get a reservation.
Reece shoved his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “If you’re interested in going, I’d be happy to take you.”
In a glance, she checked his outfit. Of course, he had perfect taste in clothes, dressed as wonderful as he smelled. Shari sighed. “I suppose we should get going then.”
“Let me help you with your coat.” Brad held her London Fog, and she slid her arms into the sleeves. In April, Texas was in the seventies and eighties. Up here in the grand old west, rain, fog, and forties ruled.
“Play nice, Shari,” Brad muttered in her ear.
“I’ll show you nice when I get you alone.” And he better be ready.
Brad laughed. “Love you, too.” He stepped back, and clapped Reece on the shoulder. “Okay, guys. Enjoy.”
“No goodbye kiss?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Aw, sorry.” Brad smooched her cheek.
“You know that’s—”
“Better get going.” Her brother tapped his watch.
She looped her arm through Reece’s. “Yes, let’s go.”
Inside, the restaurant décor inspired romance. Mostly tables for two, scattered beneath a ceiling painted like a midnight sky, full of stars made of miniature twinkling lights. Purely for couples.
Yet here she sat with her brother’s latest boyfriend. She sighed.
“So, Reece. Have you ever eaten at Chez La Fete?”
“Mmm, a couple of times.” He leaned forward. “You look a lot like Brad.”
“Didn’t he tell you we’re twins?”
He grinned. “No, but I can see the resemblance. Same black hair, same blue eyes.”
“How long have you known my brother?”
“About a year. I’m a pharmaceutical rep, and I call on the Internal Medicine department roughly every other week.”
A work acquaintance. Usually Brad strove to keep the two separate, didn’t date people he’d met at the hospital. She lifted her menu.
“What about you? What do you do?” Reece raised an eyebrow.
“I sew.” Yeah, wait for it.
“Sew?”
“Yeah. Custom… clothing.”
“Like designer stuff?”
“You could say that.”
“Interesting.” Reece took a sip of his water. “Would I have seen any of your designs?”
Not likely, big guy. Not unless you’re into kinky women’s lingerie. “Probably not. They’re all custom. How long have you and Brad been dating?”
Reece choked, then coughed until he turned red. When the spasms subsided, he gasped for air. “Uh, Shari? I’m not dating your brother. I’m straight.”
“Oh.” Heat traveled from her chest to her neck, and migrated up to her cheeks. “Oh. I’m so sorry. I just assumed—”
“It’s okay. Forget it.” Brows pulled down, Reece scowled at his menu.
Man, she’d blown it big time. Brad had a straight male friend. That hadn’t happened since junior high. And she’d royally pissed off said friend.
Usually when she came to visit, it was like Gladys Knight and the Pips: Shari and Brad, his current lover, and Brad’s gay friends.
In her purse, her phone rang. Thank God. A distraction. She flipped it open.
“Hey, Shari. How’s it going?” Brad sounded way too happy.
“Just a minute.” She covered the receiver. “Um, Reece? I’ll step out to the lobby to take this.”
He gave a curt nod and went back to his menu.
She slinked across the dining room, past the hostess stand.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she hissed.
“Tell you what?”
“That Reece isn’t your boyfriend.”
Laughter came from the phone.
“It’s not funny, damn it. I assumed he was, and now he’s ticked. When are you going to be here?”
“That’s why I’m calling. I’m not.”
“Not? Brad, don’t you dare do this to me.”
“What? Set you up with a perfectly nice heterosexual male?”
“Oh. My. God. Is that what this is?” The temperature in the restaurant shot up. Air. She needed air. She pushed through the front door. The mist had thickened, and the beginnings of fog curled along the sidewalk. Damp and cold, like her evening.
“Reece is a nice guy. I told him about you, and he seemed interested. Told him I’d introduce you.”
“Introduce? More like throw me off a cliff. And you know what? He hates me for assuming he was yours.”
Brad chuckled. “Do you want me to call him and explain?”
“You’ve done enough,” she snapped. “I’ll settle up with you later.”
“Okay, Twinnie the Pooh.”
“Don’t call me that.” Shari closed her phone and straightened her shoulders. Might as well wade through the shambles of the evening. She stepped inside and strolled across the restaurant to the table.
Reece looked up. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Uh, Reece? I’m sorry for assuming you were Brad’s boyfriend. He didn’t explain—”
“It’s okay.” He grimaced. “I think he’d planned to act as matchmaker over dinner.”
“Can we call a truce? Friends?”
“Sure.”
Didn’t sound very convincing. Shari reached a hand across the table. “Hi. I’m Shari. Nice to meet you.”
He grinned and shook her hand. “I’m Reece. A pleasure.”
God, he had a beautiful smile.
A waitress appeared at the table. “Ready to order?”
~*~
Dinner went well. They had a lot in common, and relaxed into a meal full of good conversation and excellent food, and she ordered dessert to go. Brad held open the door of the restaurant, and guided her with a hand on the small of her back.
A thrill shot through her, and she shivered. God, he was attractive. Too bad he lived here in the Midwest, and that she’d ruined any chance of more than friendship with him.
The mist had coalesced into a dense fog.
Reece peered through the whiteout. “Do you want to wait here, and I’ll bring the car around to pick you up?”
“No, let’s walk. The fog doesn’t bother me.” She started down the sidewalk.
He sauntered along next to her, his arm brushing hers. Every nerve vibrated with his touch. She glanced up, but he stared straight ahead.
Don’t get your hopes up. Kinda ruined it at the start.
The sidewalk took a dip, and her stiletto went sideways. The ground loomed closer and she tottered, heading down.
Strong arms grabbed her around the waist. “Whoa. You okay?” Reece’s voice rumbled next to her ear, warm and velvet.
She couldn’t get her legs to support her. He pulled her against him and set her on her feet. She gripped his biceps. This close, his scent filled her nose, the spicy cologne wrapped around her.
His arms didn’t loosen. His chocolate gaze dipped to her mouth, and he bent his head. The first touch of his lips to hers, a chaste hello, a pleasure to meet you kind of kiss, kindled a fire across her skin.
Reece’s eyes widened, then hooded. The next kiss made full firm contact, but he didn’t demand her lips part for him.
Her nipples tightened, and a heavy heat curled low in her pelvis.
Now this was kissing. And they hadn’t even made open-mouthed contact. She leaned into him. More. She slid her arms from his biceps to circle his neck, pulled him closer, and he groaned, but still didn’t invade.
Guess she’d have to assert herself. She licked at his lips to open.
He responded, hot and enthusiastic, his tongue tangling with hers. The flavor of coffee with cream and after dinner mint introduced themselves to her taste buds. This time, she groaned.
After a minute, lightheadedness intervened, and she had to break the kiss for air. “Reece…”
“Let me take you somewhere more private. Okay with you?” he panted.
“Absolutely.” Was that her voice, with the come hither vixen tone?
She turned, and he tucked her into his side. Shari glanced down. A lot of arousal viewable among the pleats of his dress pants. Oh, yeah, this evening was headed for the bedroom.
The heat cranked up to throbbing low in her middle.
Reece’s sports car sat in an isolated corner of the parking lot, looking ghostly in the dense fog. Talk about zero visibility.
He guided her to the passenger side, a firm hand on her elbow as he opened the door, and she slid into the low bucket seat. She palmed the gearshift.
“I noticed this on the way here, you like driving standard, huh?”
“A stick is more fun than an automatic.” A grin developed on his face.
Yep. It was more fun. And not the Miata kind.
He sauntered around the front, then pulled open the driver’s door and folded into the seat next to her. “Ready?”
“Yep.” That tent in his pants…. He must be aching by now. One touch, to communicate where they were headed. She reached over, pressing her hand over his groin.
A groan escaped while his hips lifted. “Damn.”
Thick and hard, he filled her palm. Definitely a crowd pleaser, this cock. She couldn’t resist working his anticipation higher. A little squeeze, to keep things interesting.
A gasp came from him. “Shit. Keep that up, and we’ll never make it to my apartment.”
The sound of his roughened voice got her wet. She wanted him, could hardly wait to feel that shaft stretching her. She rubbed his fly. “You mean… this?”
His knees fell apart, and he pulled her in for a kiss. This time he led with his tongue, aggressive in his exploration as she kept up the friction.
Why wait? The fog cocooned them. She unbuttoned his pants, teased the zipper, pulling it down tooth by tooth, exposing boxers.
Easy access. She reached through the opening in front and gripped the prize. The heat and firm thickness… God, she throbbed. Maybe it’d been a mistake to get him this worked up. Look at the effect he had on her— she wasn’t far from orgasm herself. The power of taking the lead made her hot, and he obviously didn’t have a problem with it.
She stroked up from base to tip, encountering hot liquid precome in the slit. With her thumb she rubbed it into the crown, and he bucked in her hand. Answering moisture gushed between her thighs.
“Not going to last,” he said through his teeth.
“Me either.” She bent and took him with her lips.
He groaned and thrust into her mouth, his fingers digging into her hair, but not forcing.
The flavors of salt and the spice of his soap, and musky aroused man greeted her. No way could she take the entire length. This required creativity. She slipped a hand under his balls, rolling them in her palm, stroking the sensitive strip of skin behind them.
Reece shifted down in his seat. “Christ.”
His husky tone set off shivers. She grinned around the cock filling her mouth. With a gentle grip of teeth below the crown, she secured him in place and tongued the groove, tickling the slit with her tongue. Twisting her fingers on the shaft, she kept up the routine until his testicles tightened.
“Close,” he groaned and pushed her away. “So close.”
In the dim light, his erection gleamed with her saliva, appearing dark purple and delicious. She withdrew to her own seat and shrugged out of her raincoat, kicked off her stilettos, reached under her dress and slid off her saturated thong. “Scoot your seat back, and lower it.”
“What?”
Must be addled by arousal. “Move your seat back as far as it will go then lay it flat.”
“Now?”
“Now.” Should’ve got him ready while he could still think with his big head. She dove into her purse, pulling a condom from her makeup bag.
He moved the seat into position, studying her, his eyes hooded with arousal.
“Hips up,” she coaxed. She wanted all of him, skin to skin.
After he complied, she yanked his pants and boxers down to mid-thigh.
A magnificent cock, thick and curved arched toward his belly. Shari tore open the condom and rolled it down his length.
God, this was a small car. Why couldn’t he be an SUV guy? They’d have the whole cargo space to stretch out.
She undid the tie on her dress. Thank God she’d worn the wrap number. With care, she clambered over the gearshift and climbed into his lap.
The ridge of his shaft burned against her heated core, and she sucked in a breath through her teeth. Had to get a little more foreplay before she impaled herself. She pulled her dress wide, and unsnapped the front closure on her bra, letting her breasts free.
Reece let out a guttural sound and sat up. He latched onto a nipple, tongue and teeth dancing over the sensitive tissue. A pleasurable tightening skipped to her center. She slid her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer.
A soft pop, and he switched to the other breast, laving and nibbling. The fever of his erection pressed against her core, begging entrance.
What he did with his mouth, this man. Lord. But she needed skin. She gripped his shoulders and pushed him back. He lay with a half smile on his face, hands on her hips while she unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his chest.
Smooth and beautiful, with scant hair until his navel. There, a happy trail pointed the way to his personal gearshift. She rubbed her palms over the firm muscle. Great pecs, and she loved a man with a well-developed chest. The male nipple tended to be a neglected erogenous zone. A little tickle, a little pinching, and the nubs stood erect. The chocolate brown eyes squeezed shut.
“You like that?” She gave him another pinch.
“Yeah.” Reece’s tone deepened to a guttural groan.
For good measure, she tongued his chest until a shudder passed through him.
She had to feel him inside her. Raising her hips, she held his cock and directed it to her opening. The crown alone stretched her. Shari threw her head back, and sank onto him, inch by luscious inch, until she rested against the base of his shaft.
Amazing. She’d never had live flesh fill her like this. Reece thrust up, bumping her clit, sending a shower of erotic sparks through her pelvis.
“Shari, so hot. So damn tight and hot. Have to move.” He lowered his hips, withdrawing, shoved into her to the hilt, and they groaned in unison.
Right. Move. She swiveled, the friction tantalizing her aroused nub. Perfect position.
Reece gripped her waist and lifted, slammed her down. “Keep going.”
The pistoning rhythm wound the spring of Shari’s enjoyment higher, and tightening in her navel warned of impending implosion. “Almost there, don’t stop.”
The orgasm poured over her like lava, white-hot pleasure dimming her vision and dampening sound. As if from a distance, she heard Reece yelling as he came. His cock pulsed inside her sheath.
“Ah, damn, Shareeeeeeee.” His body bucked against her, extending her climax.
She collapsed on his chest, the sweat of their exertions sticking them together. A workout had never felt better.
“God, that felt incredible.” Reece’s hand stroked down her back. “I’m not in any condition to drive home right now.”
“Fine, because I can’t move. Yet.”
He laughed. “This is much better than the start of the evening.”
“Yeah. Nice gearshift, and I don’t mean the Miata.”
“Not bad yourself.”
Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she sat up. “A hell of a way to work off dinner.”
Reece trailed a finger down her chest. “Just wait ‘til we work off dessert.”
~~*~~
Whitley Gray
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Copyright © 2011 Whitley Gray
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
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