TWO
Lust is a thing of the blood, simmering. Doesn't need head or heart, only desire.
~ Savannah Bushard
Grayson Blackwood will depart the Army hospital soon, and hopefully Ella can get back to her chipper little self. I chuckle. Ella bug and I’ve been tied at the hip since we met in basic training. She’s the sister I wanted but didn’t get being an only child. Ella is one of those people you meet and just know you’re gonna be friends with for life. We’ve been through thick and thin together. From basic training to the many patients we take care of on a daily basis as nurses. We keep it real but fun. It’s not easy being a single white female in a predominantly male environment.
She’s been in a pickle caught between a rock and a hard spot since Captain Grayson Blackwood showed up. He was her first love from high school and she’s engaged to Michael. Grayson left her to pursue his career and ended up breaking her heart. She was a lost puppy searching for someone to love when we met, all because of Grayson. That’s one point against him in my mind. I have tried to help by running interference until she can get a hold of her feelings. It’s getting time for her to decide. She really needs to be honest with herself and follow her heart.
On the other hand, Grayson is one patient I won’t miss. Talk about a grumpy bear. He’s outta here today. I reach for his chart and leisurely walk in the direction of his room while making sure every item on his discharge sheet is complete. All i’s dotted and t’s crossed, perfectamundo. Nothing stands in the way of the Captain’s exit from the hospital.
My Ella Bella is fragile when it comes to him, and I’m concerned. She isn’t the type to just let it go. Oh no, she lets it fester until she explodes, which is precisely why I’m worried. She is my best friend, and I don’t like seeing her torn to pieces. I witnessed what he did to her years ago, and she’s finally got her life on track. Finally met a man worthy of my little Ella bug.
When we met in basic training, we instantly became friends for life. We clicked. She didn’t ask questions about my past, and I helped pull her out of the funk she had been squandering around in. She was a total mess. Hell, I was, too. That’s how I ended up in the Middle East, working as a nurse in the Army. I was running, fast and hard, from the fucked-up mess my life had turned into.
Ella is the one and only person I’ve trusted with the details of my past since I left Texas. There’s no way I’m shoving my concerns about Grayson to the wayside. She needs me. I want to see her and Michael happily married with two point five children living in suburbia bliss. In my opinion, Grayson has got to go for her to focus on moving forward, so the quicker he’s outta here, the better for everyone. Adiós amigo.
Grayson’s voice increases in volume as I’m entering his room. “No fucking way am I leaving here in that.”
“You will if you want to leave, sugar,” I smugly drawl, aware Grayson loathes being cooped up in this hospital room. In a small way, I admire his tenacity. His will to get bandaged up and leave, just to get back in the fight. All for the good of God and Country.
I prop myself against the door, signing my John Hancock where necessary on the mountain of release paperwork. Grayson needs to vacate the premises, as soon as possible. Glancing up from the chart, all words escape from me due to the tall, dark, and brooding tattooed man standing before me. Instantly, I’m sizing up my new acquisition. Come to Vanna, big boy. This man can fuck me ten ways till Sunday and you won’t hear a complaint from me. Impressions of naked, sweat-drenched bodies entwined run through my mind. Steam fogging my floor-length mirror in the bathroom. Moans of rapturous bliss. My heartbeat accelerates. Him in front of me on his knees worshipping my pussy. Quickly, I grab loose paper, cooling the warmth the fantasy causes. A thrill skates around my body, causing goose flesh.
Warning bells go off, shaking me from my sensual daydream. I’m momentarily sidetracked, debating whether or not to act or sit the bench on this one. He’s not my normal type. Whatever. Do I really have a type? My taste buds are a broad and diverse range of men. The flavor of the day.
I swore after the one serious relationship I attempted went south, I would play the field and only think about settling down if the right man showed up. Which, by the way, hasn’t happened to date, but there is always an exception to the rule.
Play the field, reap the benefits, and move on is my motto. I keep my heart intact, while my feminine parts get a much-needed workout with real equipment on a regular basis instead of the plastic toys stashed under my bed. It’s a win-win in my mind. One I’m very comfortable with.
The dreamy man bends firmly, holding the handles on the wheelchair, raises his square chin in my direction, and pierces my soul with smoldering emerald eyes. I’m immobilized by the lustful energy pouring off him. An assurance on his part to deliver nights of uncontrollable passion.
He straightens to his full six-foot-plus height, a highly attractive and completely desirable trait for my tall, lean figure. He’s built like a linebacker with broad shoulders to hold on to while riding into oblivion. Ooh la la. The generic Army green shirt outlines well-defined muscles along his torso. Camouflage pants cling to muscular built legs. I’m not disappointed when I zoom in on his lap; he’s packing some serious heat. His military-issued combat boots complete the badass vibes, and I begin my journey back up to his aesthetically pleasing mouth.
He is drop-dead gorgeous. Dangerous. Black spiked hair cut razor sharp, a strong chin to suck, showcasing an ideal fuck-me smirk. Decision made. I’ll show you a good time. I need his name, rank, and digits.
Once I drink my fill of the prime hunk of man in front of me, he lights my body on fire as he claims every inch of mine with a look that promises nights of unmentionable bliss. I squirm when his eyes land on my boobs. A red tongue slowly sweeps his juicy bottom lip and shiny white teeth clamp down, burying the groan fighting to escape. Damn, big boy. This is absolutely gonna happen.
He stares at my lips, and visions of sugarplums dance as heart-pounding need surfaces. I’m caught. He’s reeling me in, pulling me toward the unknown stranger standing five feet away. He shakes his head and snaps out of the trance we both are under.
I watch him coax the surly Grayson into the wheelchair as they take their leave. Thank you, Jesus. The temperature in the room was already stifling, sizzling hot, and I don’t know how much longer I could have endured being in the same room with this hunk of a man without jumping his bones.
Later in the afternoon, I’m almost done with my shift when I feel someone watching me. I look around and land on a pair of intense green eyes. Fierce determination and sexual desire adorn his handsome face. When he motions with his chin, I’m walking a straight line in his direction. He’s reeling me in one step at a time. Each and every footfall I take draws me closer and closer to the promise of ecstasy this man is sure to deliver. Lust-filled excitement escalates my movements as I pick up speed.
“Bless my aching heart. Aren’t you a sight for these sore eyes.” I glance around to see if anyone is paying attention to us and pull him into the alcove for privacy. “What’s your name, solider?”
“Styx, ma’am.”
“Styx, hmmm. Hey, studly Styx, my shift ends in ten. Wanna grab a bite to eat and hang out?”
He smirks, and the dimples in his cheeks draw my attention. I’m a sucker for dimples, and his are sexy as hell. I lick my lips imaging running my tongue over his jaw line and into the crevice. Another wash of hunger and desire inundates my impatient body, resulting in a flush across my skin.
“The only thing I wanna eat tonight is you, blondie. You on the menu?” John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt! I’m pretty sure my insides melted into a gooey pile of mush.
My breathing escalates as I continue to stare, wondering if he tastes as good as he looks. Of course, he does, sweet as molasses or a caramel apple at the fall carnival back home.
Then his words start pinging in my foggy brain, and little flutters as soft as butterfly wings kickstart in my belly. His naughty words spring me into action.
“Oh my, sugar sweetness from up above,” I whisper, fanning myself as heat surfaces. “It’s go-time. Let me get my bag.”
He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest, flexing the well-toned muscles I’m salivating over. He is gorgeous. For a girl like me, he could be deadly, but damn it all, my greedy libido aka girly parts win out in the end.
“Don’t keep me waiting, blondie. I’m starving.”
I rush back to the nurses’ station and clock out. The motivation from his wicked words along with a side of delight pump through my veins. In a snap, I’m back to where the sexy man is standing, and ready to leave.