Melt With You: Fated, Book 4 Page 2
“No way.” A shiver moved through Wes, and it wasn’t pleasant. Yeah, he was hot for the new nurse on staff but he certainly wasn’t thinking marriage and roses and picket fences and little rugrats. That was crazy talk.
“Yeah. I was wondering…” They stopped in front of the employee only door that led outside. “If maybe you’d be my best man in the wedding?”
“Well, yeah. Of course I will be.” Wes had the overwhelming urge to hug his friend. And he wasn’t what anyone would call the demonstrative type. “I’d be honored.”
“Great. I’ll tell Morgan she can scratch that question off the list.”
“Oh man, she’s making you keep a list?”
They both started to laugh just as a slender nurse strode by. Wes did a double take, his laughter dying in an instant. “That was her.”
“Who?” Evan looked confused.
“My nurse, dumbass. I gotta go.” Wes didn’t even wait for Evan’s response, just started heading after Lanie.
Her stride was quick, her shoes squeaking on the clean floor. Her golden brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and it bobbed with her every step. Her hips swayed, the sweet bubble of her ass—even in boring scrubs—keeping him mesmerized.
She had a walk that would make any man drool, and he couldn’t help but wonder just how shapely those legs were beneath the scrubs.
Could just imagine those legs wrapped around him while he slid inside her tight, wet heat…
“Lanie.” She didn’t turn around when he called her name and he quickened his steps, gaining on her. “Lanie.”
Still she didn’t turn, and he ran the last few feet until he was directly behind her.
He tapped her on the shoulder with the tips of two fingers and she whirled around on a gasp, nearly knocking into him.
“You scared me.” She stumbled and he caught her by the elbow, only then noticing the white ear buds in her ears.
“Sorry.” Touching her in such an impersonal way, he wouldn’t think he would have such a strong visceral reaction.
But he did. It was like molten lava flowed through his veins, hot and thick. He didn’t want to let go. In fact, he didn’t, using his concern as pretense for keeping his fingers wrapped around her slender arm.
She blew his fantasy by jerking out of his touch and giving him a death stare.
Those pale blue eyes were as cold as ice tonight. Whereas the last time he saw her, they’d been warm and friendly, her gaze full of interest and even a hint of amusement.
He threw his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Hey, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“What? No.” She jerked one of the buds out of her ear, and he heard the distorted music coming from it. Wished suddenly he knew her music preferences. “I didn’t hear you approach.”
“I can see that. Now.” He grimaced, feeling like an ass. Her eyes really hadn’t warmed up, and she kept looking to her right. As if she wanted to escape. “Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”
He started to turn but she shot out an arm at the last minute, her fingers stopping him by resting on his forearm. “No, I should apologize. I was—rude.”
“No harm, no foul.” If he could lean into her touch he would, but he restrained himself. Didn’t want to look like a total fool.
Damn she was tempting.
“Listen.” She took a step closer, her gaze meeting his, her expression determined, one delicate eyebrow lifting. “Do you have a spare couple of minutes? I’d like to—talk to you.”
Was his every dream coming true? The ice in her eyes had thawed substantially, and she was nothing short of direct which he found infinitely arousing.
He tried for nonchalance with a shrug. “Sure. What’s going on?”
“Great.” She took hold of his wrist and led him down the hall. “Follow me.” Lanie kept hold of Wes’ wrist and practically dragged him down the hall, her mind racing with possibilities. What was she doing? Where was she taking him? What was she going to do with him once they got there?
She honestly didn’t know.
On her break, listening to the newest playlist she’d created from her iTunes library, she hadn’t been paying attention when he’d snuck up and scared the wits out of her. At first sight of his handsome face, she’d been filled with anger. Frustration. Why did someone so good looking have to be such a…cad?
An old-fashioned word but it fit what with everything she’d heard about him the last few days.
Then he’d immediately backed off, got a puppy dog look in those gorgeous green eyes, and, just like every sucker-punched woman before her, she stumbled.
And fell.
She had no idea what came over her. Impulsiveness was not her style.
Spontaneous was not a word anyone would associate with her but she’d become so overwhelmed with the urge to just—get him somewhere. Alone.
The two of them wrapped up around each other…
Okay, she was crazy. Clutching his thick wrist with only her fingers was somehow making her entire body react, her nipples pebbled hard and tight beneath her bra, her skin positively on fire.
Yeah. She couldn’t even imagine what might happened if he set his hands on her bare skin and stroked her from head to toe. She might explode into tiny bits of ecstasy.
“Hey.” He turned his hand within her grip and clasped her arm with his long, strong fingers. They burned into her skin, making her shiver. “Where are you taking me?”
She glanced over her shoulder, saw the perplexed look on his face. Gosh, he was cute. “Hold on, almost there.”
The door to the left beckoned so she came to a halt, wrenched it open with her free hand and dragged him in after her. It was a supply closet, of course. Straight out of a clichéd movie, fooling around in the closet, but she didn’t care. Reaching around him, she slammed the door shut, the tiny space immediately shrouded with darkness.
“What are you—?”
She cut him off, reaching up and pressing two fingers against his plush mouth.
His lips were damp and full and just like that, her panties were wet. “Shut up.” His lips parted and a soft exhalation of breath brushed against her fingers.
Gripping his broad shoulder with her other hand, she stood on tiptoe, marveling at his height. He was a giant and so…big…
Dropping her hand from his mouth, she brushed her lips against his, a murmur of pleasure escaping her at first contact. He settled his hands on her waist, his gentle touch steadying her and she released a shaky breath.
“Do you usually pull innocent men into supply closets and kiss them?” His husky whisper made her shiver.
“No, not usually. And I’ve heard you’re not quite so innocent.” She gasped when he touched the tip of his tongue to the center of her upper lip.
“People in this hospital exaggerate.” He angled his head, his lips drifting across her cheek. She clutched both of his shoulders with shaky fingers, afraid she’d slither to the floor if she let go. “I’m not as bad as they say.”
“Maybe I’m looking for a bad boy.” Lanie sighed when he kissed her again. A dreamy, hot, deep kiss, his tongue slid against hers in a sensuous dance that had her entire body ready to melt into molten liquid.
Wes broke the kiss first. “Is that all you’re looking for?” She opened her eyes, could barely make out his features in the dark of the closet.
Outside real life continued to unfold. She heard a page call overhead, the sound of people walking by. They could get caught. It was dangerous, lingering in this closet. She’d end up with a less than stellar reputation, and he would have another notch on his supposed already full bedpost.
This is what happened to a woman who was desperate, she realized. Her thoughts had been consumed with him since the first moment they locked gazes. She was behaving like a complete slut and the funny thing was she didn’t care.
“Is it?”
Lanie blinked. What had he asked again? Her brain was fuzzy, her entire body spun tight from that one deli
cious kiss and she couldn’t find her tongue despite that she knew he waited for her answer.
“Because if it is,” he continued when she didn’t reply. “Then I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to disappoint you.”
He disengaged himself from her grip and without another word, walked out of the closet, leaving her inside.
Alone.
Chapter Three
“I made a move on Wes.”
Aimee nearly choked on the french fry she was nibbling. “You’re kidding me.” She gasped after she took a swig from her drink.
Lanie shook her head. “Nope. Guess what? He turned me down.”
“You’re kidding me,” Aimee said again, her eyes as wide as saucers.
“I wish I wasn’t.” A fresh wash of humiliation slid over her at the memory. It happened four days ago and she still wasn’t over it. “I dragged him into a closet—”
“While at work?” Aimee interrupted.
“Yep. It was a supply closet. Nice and cozy right? I told him to shut up and basically attacked him right there.”
“What in the world…”
“I know, right? I mean, what came over me? Why would I do such a thing?” She still didn’t know, couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. It was just so unlike her, to grab random, handsome men and pull them into supply closets so she could have her way with them.
And to top it all off, he’d turned her down. Walked right out of that closet without a backward glance and hadn’t spoken to her again.
His rejection still stung too.
Aimee laughed, covering her mouth with the tips of her fingers when she caught sight of Lanie’s glare. “I know you don’t think it’s very funny but oh my God, it kind of is, you have to admit. I mean, you yanked him into a closet and mauled him.” Lanie’s cheeks heated and she ducked her head. “I know. It was stupid. You probably think I’m a complete idiot.”
“I’ve only known you for six months but no, I don’t think you’re an idiot. I think a gorgeous man hindered your thought process. That’s all.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Lanie muttered as she glanced about the room.
They were at a local sports bar not far from the hospital, a place where many of the hospital staffers came after work to unwind after a long shift. Both Lanie and Aimee were off the next two days so they’d decided to hang out, have a light dinner and a drink or two during happy hour.
The two sat alone by choice, the majority of their coworkers surrounding a big screen TV watching a football game in progress. Stressed over what happened with Wes, she’d been dying to tell Aimee about it since the night it actually went down.
Now she was like a shaken up bottle, bursting and spilling all over the place.
“Have you talked to him since?” Aimee asked.
“No. I haven’t even seen him.”
“What exactly did he say to you?”
Here came the embarrassing part. “Well…he said something about dragging innocent men into closets and I told him I heard he wasn’t that innocent. Then he asked if all I wanted from him was to be a bad boy and when I didn’t answer—because I was stunned silent by the way he kissed me—he said I’m going to disappoint you. Then he walked out of the closet.”
Aimee’s eyebrows were so high Lanie swore they had reached her hairline.
“Mister Bad Boy himself turned you down because you were looking for something decidedly unserious?”
“I guess so.” Lanie grabbed her margarita and took a healthy sip. Tequila was definitely not the answer to all her problems, but it definitely seemed like a good substitute.
“That’s…interesting.” Aimee pursed her lips, looking as if she were in deep thought.
Amusing considering they were in the middle of a raucous bar on a Monday night.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that maybe Wes the player doesn’t want to be a player with you.”
“Please.” Lanie waved a dismissive hand. “I met him once and I won’t deny it, there were sparks. You tell me about his reputation and I don’t know, it put weird thoughts in my head. I-can-be-a-conquering-crazy-little-ho-type thoughts and I never think that way.”
“Right, so you throw yourself at him and he leaves you high and dry.”
“High but not really dry,” Lanie said, schooling her expression to utter seriousness.
They remained silent for about two seconds before they both dissolved into a fit of giggles.
Damn tequila.
“Okay, great, so he’s an excellent kisser. Score one point for Wes.” Aimee pointed a finger at her. “But why did he say that to you? Why did he leave you? Any other chick, he would’ve jumped her.”
Lanie frowned. “Maybe he thought I was a terrible kisser and hustled out of there before he had to endure any more of it.”
“Oh stop it, would you?” Aimee drained her glass then held it up, shaking it so the ice rattled. “Another round please?” she called to the waitress who nodded and smiled in response.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Listen, you’re the one who started the loose lips thing once you got a drink in you. Maybe you’ll confess more.” Aimee grinned.
“That’s all I’ve got.” She didn’t even want to go into the my-thoughts-are-constantly-full-of-Wes admission. It was bad enough she had shared what happened in the closet. “I should pretend it never happened, huh?”
“Nooo. No way. You need to seek him out. Ask him what the hell.” Aimee pounded the table with her fist, causing their empty glasses to shake. “Men. They act like weird little babies sometimes, I swear.”
“Ask him what the hell—what? How am I supposed to approach him?” Nerves beat at her stomach like a million little tiny fists. She couldn’t go up to Wes at work, tap him on that impossibly broad, impossibly hard as a rock shoulder and ask him what gives. He’d probably barely look her way then completely ignore her.
No way would she walk into that sort of humiliation. The closet incident was bad enough.
“Flirt with him, say you want to have sex with him, give him a blow job, whatever.” Aimee was on a roll now—and more than just a little drunk. “Then dump him.
Like get his jeans down around his knees then leave him hard and hurting. Oh, yeah.” Aimee collapsed into uncontrollable laughter, and Lanie could only shake her head. Her friend had completely lost it. She was being so silly they were drawing the attention of other people in the bar.
Including the attention of a group of guys they worked with.
And in that group stood…
Oh, Lord it couldn’t be. But it was.
Wes was staring at her with those intense green eyes, clutching a bottle of beer in his firm grip. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he brought the bottle to his mouth and took a healthy swig.
A cold sweat broke out all over her skin, and she visibly shivered. He noticed, she saw the arch of his dark brows, the way his lips parted. They were damp, probably from the beer and she had the sudden and inexplicable urge to run over to him and lick them.
Taste him.
“He’s here,” she squeaked.
Aimee stopped laughing. “Who?”
“Wes,” Lanie hissed, tearing her gaze from his to glare at Aimee. “We need to leave.”
“We’re so not leaving.” Aimee rubbed her hands together gleefully. “Go over there right now and talk to him. Do it like we planned.”
“No way.” Lanie shook her head.
“Do it!” Aimee shoved her, practically sending her stumbling out of the curved booth seat.
“Ow.” Lanie rubbed her arm, smiling weakly at the approaching waitress who brought their drinks.
“Yummy.” Aimee grabbed her drink and sipped from it. “This must be my last one. I think I’m tipsy.”
“More than tipsy.”
“Whatever. Now go over there. Flirt with him. Whisper naughty words in his ear, get those sexy jeans down around his ankles and then leave him in
the lurch. He deserves it.”
The more Lanie thought about his jeans bunched at his ankles and his cock between her lips, the better the idea sounded. God, she had issues. Serious, strange, out of control issues that she never even knew existed.
She grabbed her drink and drained half of it before she set it back on the table. As if in a trance, she stood, straightening her shoulders, pushing the hair out of her face before she started over to where Wes stood. She could hear Aimee hooting and hollering, but she ignored her.
Lanie ignored everyone and everything until all she saw was Wes.
She headed toward him, a defiant lift to her chin and a sexy glimmer in her eyes that had his entire body stiffening with need, particularly below the belt. He’d been perfectly happy enjoying the Monday night football game, drinking a couple of beers and munching on appetizers, talking stats and which teams had the potential to go into the playoffs. Evan was there, too, making a rare appearance since the dude was all about spending time with his woman lately.
Wes was starting to get it—sort of. Ever since that moment in the closet, she was all he could think about. The soft, sweet taste of her, the dip of her waist, the way she pressed against him in the dark, tiny closet, the sexy little sounds she made…
He’d walked away from her like a damn fool. But all that talk about bad boys and wanting had rubbed him wrong. Was that what he was reduced to amongst his coworkers? Just some idiot who’ll fuck anything with tits, even in a supply closet at the goddamn hospital?
That’s why he’d walked away. Oh, he was a sensitive little pansy and he wanted to kick his own ass for even thinking like this but he’d had his precious little feelers hurt.
That night, lying in his cold, empty bed, thinking of the warm, willing woman he could’ve had in it, left him filled with regret.
He’d avoided her at work, not that it had been hard—he’d been so busy. No way could he avoid her, not with her coming right at him, her stride determined, her pale blue eyes full of fire. He disentangled himself from the group, needing a little distance.
“Hi.” She stopped in front of him and rested her hands on her hips.