“What was in the box? I’ve been dying to find out.” Alexis hangs up her jacket in the staff room as I finish taping up Dr. Steadman’s box. I have no idea how I’m going to return it without dying of embarrassment, but keeping it isn’t an option.

“Kinky sex stuff.” I push the box into a corner and pick up my tea, now lukewarm after my struggles with the tape. “Handcuffs, vibrator, naughty nurse and doctor costumes . . .”

Silence.

“Alexis?”

“The dog.” Alexis breathes out a sigh. “I’d heard rumors about Dr. Steadman. Like he’s into threesomes and he’s got a sex room in his basement . . .”

“Well, from the contents of the package, I’d say some of them are true. But it’s crazy that he would give this stuff to us. Who does that? He barely knows us. Chris has seen him twice, and I’ve seen him once. Until he gave me the package, we’d never had a conversation about anything other than teeth. It’s weird. Maybe I should call the police.”

“Are you kidding me?” Alexis’s voice rises in pitch. “He could obviously tell you guys are having marital difficulties, and he’s trying to help in his own special kinky way.”

“Well, it totally backfired. We were having fun with it until Chris put on the doctor coat and then all this stuff came out about his mom and how he feels like a failure. A few minutes later he was back in the living room watching TV like it never happened.”

“But it did happen,” Alexis says. “It happened and something changed. Chris opened up a little bit.”

“I guess. But so what?” I gesture to the box. “He wants me to return it.”

“What do you want?”

I want my Chris back. I want our marriage and our laughter. I want us to be happy and looking forward to the future we had planned together. I want sexy times and cuddle times and his strong arms wrapped around me.

“I want to keep it.” I bite my lip when my eyes start to water. “I don’t think we would have ever gone to a store and bought that kind of stuff. And it was fun to pull it out and be shocked and surprised together. He laughed, Alexis. Like he used to do. And he joked around. For a while there I thought he might suggest we go upstairs and try it out.”

“Then keep it,” she says. “There are two people in your marriage. It’s been all about him for over a year. You’ve tiptoed around him and made a comfortable place for him to hide away from the world at the cost of your happiness. It’s time to stop being a martyr. You’re a good person. A good wife. Now it’s time to be naughty. Put yourself out there. Take a risk. Let him know what you want. If he rejects you, so what? He’s rejected you every night since he got laid off. If you don’t try, nothing will change. But if you do try, maybe something will, like it did when he opened up to you.”

I sip my tea, letting the bitter liquid wash over my tongue. I started drinking my tea black when money was tight, and I’ve grown accustomed to the taste. “What am I supposed to do? Turn on the vibrator and wave it in front of the TV?”

“Try the role play. Be someone else for a night and let him do the same. Maybe a naughty nurse is what he needs to get over his doctor issues.”

I give up on my tea and fill the kettle. “What if he says no?”

“Honey. Looking the way you look, dressed up in some kind of naughty outfit, I can guarantee that his ass will not be staying in his chair for long. And if it does, you might as well pack your bags, because you’ll know he no longer has a dick.”

Laughter bubbles up in my chest. “You’re a good friend. Did I ever tell you that?”

“I’m a horny friend.” She pulls out her phone. “And I think I might have a cavity. There’s more than one doctor who might be getting some loving tonight.”

I rinse out my cup as she skims through her address book. “You are not booking another appointment with Dr. Steadman.”

“Oh yes, I am. Life is too short not to take a risk.”

“Like dressing up as a naughty nurse?”

“Yes, just like that.” Her smile fades. “It kills me to see you putting so much energy into trying to save your marriage and getting nothing back. I like Chris. I think you guys are good together. But it’s time that dude gets his head out of his ass, and if he doesn’t do it tonight, I’m fixing you up with Rex Morgan.”

My breath catches in my throat. “You talked to Rex?”

“Not yet.” She gives me a sly grin. “Although if things don’t work out with our friendly neighborhood dentist, I might call him up for a little chat.”

No doubt she would. Alexis isn’t the kind of woman who lets anything stand in the way of what she wants. When she caught her husband cheating with his secretary, she booted his ass out the door, and no amount of groveling would bring him back. She has an enviable self-esteem and the kind of confidence I always wish I had.

“He won’t stand a chance,” I say after she makes an emergency end-of-the-day dentist appointment for a toothache she doesn’t have.

“You’re right about that.” She tucks her phone away. “And neither will Chris. If he’s not interested, pack a suitcase and get your ass over to my place. Then Monday morning we’ll take a walk down to the attorney’s office and get you unleashed for the hotness that is Rex Morgan.”

* * *

I am not a risk taker. I don’t jaywalk, drive too fast, or jump out of airplanes. After meeting Chris at the bus stop ten years ago, I took a different bus to work for two weeks because I was afraid to see him again. Not because I didn’t like him. I did. Too much. Every night after our meeting, I fantasized about the feel of his body against mine, his deep, gravelly voice, and the warmth in his blue eyes. I dreamed about him—naughty, sexy dreams that left me aching inside. But I didn’t want to ruin it all by seeing him again, feeling all the feels, and having him brush me off like that moment was nothing. Rejection causes pain and I’d had enough in my life. If I’d known he was the kind of guy to show up with a rose every day, hoping to see me again, I would have been there the very next morning.

So now it’s my chance to make it up to him. To be bold. To be brave. To take a risk. To be the kind of person I always wanted to be. In a last-ditch attempt to save my marriage, I am going to open myself up in a way I haven’t done since I learned the pain of rejection for being me. Even during our marriage, I never truly let Chris in.

I fasten the last hook on my naughty nurse corset and tighten the strings so it fits like a glove, but I’ve never felt so exposed in my life. My breasts are pushed up impossibly high and are almost fully exposed to the tops of my nipples. My hips seem rounder with my waist cinched tight, and the red piping on the bottom of the corset dress barely covers the tiny triangle of the white thong with its bold red cross in the center.

After I get over the shock of an almost unrecognizable me, I attach the white stockings to the garters and slip on a pair of red stiletto heels I picked up at the mall on the way home from work. My hair is loose, free from its usual ponytail, and round-brushed into soft waves that cascade over my shoulders. Chris used to love my hair. He would run his fingers through it every chance he got, and when were in bed, he’d grab it tight, pull my head back, and . . .

I give myself a shake, push away the memories of our nights in bed and our hot, sweaty bodies twisted in the sheets. Chris was always very dominant in bed, and I loved it, loved that he could push my boundaries but know when to stop.

A final touch of makeup and the reddest lipstick in my box completes the look. Naughty but nice; sexy but sweet. I hope it’s enough.

“You want a beer?” I call out when I reach the kitchen. I heard him come in when I was changing.

“Yeah.”

Heart pounding, I open his beer and pour it into his favorite glass. I give myself a final check in the microwave and walk into the room.

Here goes nothing.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Chris doesn’t even look away from the television. My stomach tightens but I take a deep breath. I expected this. Prepared for it.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Dr. Taylor, but there is an emergency in bed seven.” I pluck the remote out of his hand.

“What the—?” His gaze sweeps over me from the old-fashioned nurse’s cap in my hair to the crescents of my breasts bursting over the edge of the corset, down over my waist and the curve of my hips, to the garter straps holding up the white stockings, and finally to the ruby-red heels. “Fuck me,” he mutters.

“I’ll bring it up on the CCTV.” In this case, the CCTV happens to be a baby video monitor I borrowed from Alexis from the days when her kids were young. I’ve hooked it up to the TV so it shows our bedroom, where I’ve changed the linen to white hospital-like sheets and put the rest of Dr. Steadman’s toys on a metal tray beside the bed.

“What is this, Lil?”

Sweat beads between my tightly bound breasts. He could destroy me with only a word, humiliate me so deeply I might never recover. But this is my last, best chance to repair our marriage, and although I’m terrified of his rejection, I’m even more afraid of being alone.

“An emergency, Dr. Taylor.” I bend over in front of the television as I switch it to the baby monitor channel, giving him a full-on view of my ass, bare except for the garter straps and the thin line of my naughty nurse thong.

“Lily . . .” His voice cracks, breaks.

“Here we go.” I stand to the side, one hand on my hip, posing as if I’m trying to sell the TV while an image of our bedroom flickers on the screen. “As you can see, the patient is . . . Oh dear. He’s missing.”

“Babe . . . please . . .”

“We’d better go upstairs and check it out.” I grab the stethoscope and walk straight between his parted legs. Bending low to put it around his neck, I give him an up close and personal look at the magnificent cleavage created by my corset.

Chris clears his throat as I slide my hands over his taut shoulders. “This isn’t you.”

No, it’s not me. It’s who I want to be, who I should have been if I hadn’t been so afraid to open up and let him in. Strong. Brave. Determined.

“You’re right. I’m Nurse Taylor, and we need to get you ready to see your patient.” Swallowing hard, I climb on his lap, straddling his legs with my knees. “I’ve got your jacket right here.” I point to the white doctor’s coat I left carefully folded on the coffee table, along with a pair of green scrubs and my phone.

Of course, he hadn’t noticed.

“You seem tense, maybe a little music . . .” I lean over and press the playlist I put together on my lunch break. The soft, sultry sound of Ciara’s “Body Party” fills the room, and Chris smiles, despite himself.

“Dirty girl.”

I bite back a snort. He has no idea how dirty I’m planning to be.

“Now we need to take off this shirt.” I slide forward and bite back a soft cry as I grab the hem of his T-shirt. He’s hard beneath his jeans, and the knowledge that I can still affect him that way makes me instantly wet. Even if he pushes me away, at least I know he still desires me.

My hands smooth over his skin, the rock-hard muscles of his chest, and the firm ridges of his lats as I push his shirt up. And although he doesn’t stop me, passive Chris is not who I need.

After working the shirt around the stethoscope, I pull it over his head, leaning so far forward my breasts are right in his face.

“Christ.” His hands curl around my hips, his fingers tightening so hard I know I’ll have bruises tomorrow. He wants me, but he’s fighting it every step of the way.

“You’ll have to put your coat on, Dr. Taylor.” I wrench myself away and slide off his lap. Unbelievably, he stands when I hold out the coat and, with a sigh, shrugs it on to Gary Clark Junior’s soulful voice as he sings “Bright Lights.”

My mouth waters at the sight of him in the coat, with the stethoscope hanging over his bare chest. I’ve never had doctor fantasies, but something about the way he looks now triggers a wave of longing so fierce I have to swallow a moan.

“What’s next?” He clenches his jaw, stares down at me, and I see a flicker of the old dominant Chris glint in his eyes.

“Well . . .” I lift the scrub pants from the table, a purchase from a secondhand store that I made on my way home. “You’ll need to put these on. Street clothes aren’t allowed in the patient rooms, as I’m sure you remember.” I reach for his belt, and he grabs my wrist, holds it so tightly my eyes water.

“Go slow.”

Slow? I am almost giddy that he’s let me take him this far, so much that I want to tear off his clothes, throw him on the floor, and . . .

“Not that slow.” The slight rise in the timbre of his voice scatters my thoughts and I shake my head.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Taylor.” I tug open his belt, undo the button, and lower the zipper of his fly. My mouth waters in anticipation. God, it’s been so long.

Carefully, I ease his jeans over his hips, kneeling to draw them down over his legs. His shaft tents his boxers, and I am almost desperate to take a little lick.

Chris steps out of his jeans, his bare feet almost hidden by the thick pile of the carpet. A few weeks before he was laid off, he fucked me so hard on the carpet I had a rug burn that stung for days, and I loved it.

“These need to come off.” Still kneeling on the floor, I reach for his boxers.

“You’re a very naughty nurse, aren’t you?” he says as I draw them carefully over his erection.

“No, sir.” A smile tugs at my lips as I slide his boxers over his hips, holding them for him to step out. “I’m just doing my job. You can’t tend patients if you’re not properly dressed. It’s hospital policy.”

“And you can’t tend patients in that hat.” He reaches down and unclips the hat from my head. “That’s better. It looked like a sail. Patients might be worried you’d blow away in the breeze.” He gently runs his hand through my hair and my eyes close. A shudder runs through my body, every nerve firing at once, trying to soak up the feel of his caress as the steady, sultry beat of the Weekend’s “Earned It” ripples through me.

I missed you.

“Nurse Taylor?” His gentle tone pulls me out of my head. I open my eyes and look up to see a curious longing in his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Was there anything else you needed to do down there?”

My gaze drops to his erection and I lick my lips. “I should probably deal with this, Dr. Taylor. I believe you aren’t allowed to bring any nonmedical items into the patient rooms.”

“How do you propose to do that, you little minx?”

“I could kiss it better.” I cup his balls in my hand, roll them gently in my palm as I lean forward and press a soft kiss to his erection.

His hand tightens in my hair and his thick thighs go rigid. “This is highly inappropriate. I suspect it is against hospital policy.”

“I have an obligation to ensure you are properly attired, sir. The scrubs won’t fit properly in your current condition.”

Chris chuckles. “I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of you doing your job.” He tugs me gently toward his cock, and I lean forward and take him all in, as far as I can go, stopping only when he hits the back of my throat and my gag reflex kicks in.

“Sweet Jesus.” His breath leaves him in a rush, his cock hardening as I pull away and swirl my tongue over the slick head, tasting the sweet bead of his desire. It feels like forever since I’ve gone down on him. I never thought I’d be this close to him again, or feel this connection. My chest aches as my heart swells inside me.

Gripping his shaft as tight as I dare, I wrap my mouth around his cock so my lips meet my fist. Tipping my head back to meet his gaze, I move my mouth and hand in a rhythmic motion.

“Where did you learn that?” His voice sharpens the tiniest bit, and I release him to answer.

“Books.”

“Books?” His frown deepens. “What books?”

“All sorts of books. I wanted to be ready when this day came. I’ve been hot for you forever, Dr. Taylor.” I go down on him hard and fast, savouring the thickness of his cock as it slides in and out of my mouth. My blood rushes downward, making me throb and ache beneath the flimsy thong. Although I’m tempted to put my hand between my legs, stroke myself until I’m slick and ready to come, I slide my hands around his hips to cup his bare ass beneath the lab coat. Possessive. Needy. Mine.

Chris groans and his fingers tighten around my head. His need for control asserts itself, and he holds me still, rocking his hips rhythmically to fuck my mouth with slow, easy strokes.

I love it. I love that after all this time, he still wants what I can give. He wants me.

His body jerks from the force of his climax, his hold on my hair a painful pleasure as he spills down my throat. I swallow and suck, lick him clean, the salty taste of him so erotic I ache for release.

“Look at me.” His voice is thick, heavy with desire.

I look up. Pleasure is etched across his face, smoothing away the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the furrows in his brow.

“Your face is flushed, Nurse Taylor.”

I put a hand to my cheek, feel the heat that suffuses my body. “Exertion, sir?”

“I think you might be ill.” He tilts my head back with a thick finger under my chin. “Your pupils are dilated.”

“It’s the light.”

“Hmmm.” He presses a hand to my forehead. “I think you might have a fever.”

A smile spreads across my face, and I grab the scrubs. “Maybe I’m too hot to handle.”

“Not for me.” He takes the scrubs and pulls them on, tying them loosely around his waist. With firm hands on my shoulders, he urges me to my feet. “I think I’d better examine you properly. We can’t have you attending to patients if you’re sick.”

He’s into it now. I can see the change in the set of his shoulders, the tense line of his jaw, the spread of his legs, and the firm, unyielding stare.

Come back to me. Even if only for a night.

“That’s probably a good idea,” I say, fiddling with the stethoscope. “Would you like to start by listening to my heart?”

He scowls. “Who is the doctor here?”

“You are.”

“That’s right.” Without warning, he scoops me up in his strong arms. “And doctors examine their patients in an examination room. Lucky for you, there is one free upstairs.”

“I forgot to ask,” I say as he carries me through the room. “What kind of doctor are you?”

His sensuous mouth curls into a slow, predatory smile. “I’ll let you guess.”