Fever

by Carnal, MJ

  “You’re a nurse?” I felt like I had to pull information out of her.

  She turned toward me with her mouth set in a firm line. “No. I’m a doctor.”

  I whistled, being thoroughly impressed by the statement.

  Dr. Mia was sexy as hell, and had a brain to match. “Impressive. What kind?”

  “I work in the emergency room at County.”

  “Wow, that’s some hard shit. Wait, that’s where I know you from.” Her sassy mouth, beautiful looks, and sparkling hazel eyes made it all click when she said “County Hospital ER.”

  “You do?” Her brows shot up as her eyes grew wide. “I hope it wasn’t for anything too horrible.”

  “Cracked ribs a couple months back. You called me a cocky bastard, I believe,” I said, smiling as I remembered her playfulness.

  The corner of her mouth twitched as she tilted her head. “Ah, it’s all coming back to me now. I knew I met you before. Sorry I was mean to you.” She blushed.

  “Nah, I liked it when you called me that. You said you’d go to dinner with me, and I’m holding you to your word.”

  Her brows knitted together as her eyes moved around my face. “I don’t remember it that way. If memory serves me right, I told you no.”

  “You were supposed to come back after the x-ray, but you sent in some schmuck instead. You blew me off.”

  She snickered as her eyes flickered to her drink. “Michael, I don’t remember blowing you off. It gets hectic, and another patient probably needed my attention more than you.”

  “I don’t envy you, doc. You work a stressful job. I couldn’t do it.”

  “Some days are harder than others.” A flash of sadness splashed across her face before quickly disappearing. “It has its rewards too.”

  “I give you a lot of credit. To hold someone’s life in your hands is some heavy shit, and a lot of responsibility.”

  “Some days I question my sanity. I wonder why I didn’t settle for a nice family practice with an office, treating the flu, but I’d probably grow bored quickly.”

  “Ah, you like the rush,” I said, rubbing my chin and studying her body language.

  “Yeah, I guess I do. What do you do, Michael, besides fighting?”

  “Ah, you remember me now. I’m part-owner of a tattoo shop, where I pierce the willing, but my true love is fighting.”

  “I spend my nights repairing damage that people like you inflict.”

  I saw the flash of sadness again before it disappeared. That wasn’t the reaction I expected. “I never do anything that isn’t asked of me, whether it’s in the shop or the cage. Which one are we talking about here?”

  “The fighting.” Her face hadn’t changed.

  Most women cooed when they found out, but Mia? Nothing.

  “I don’t street fight—cage matches, MMA style. They’re professional. I have a big one coming up.” I smiled and felt proud to be able to utter those words, but Mia still didn’t seem impressed, with her lips set in a firm line as she brought the martini glass to her lips.

  “Still, it’s the opposite of my job. I help people and heal them and you injure them. Maybe they spend more time injuring you. I don’t know.” She cocked her eyebrow at me and took a sip.

  “Don’t be silly, woman. It’s a job. We all go into the cage knowing someone isn’t coming out looking as pretty as they did when they went in. All injuries heal. And wait a minute here…you just injured the hell out of that douchebag. He’ll probably never be able to have children because of that wicked knee.”

  “Fighting for money is barbaric.” She shook her head, but I didn’t buy her distaste for the sport. “What I did was self-preservation. There’s a difference.” She looked me straight in the eye and didn’t blink.

  A bullshitter could smell another bullshitter a mile away.

  “Liar.” I brushed my fingers against her arm, and she shivered with the contact.

  Maybe she didn’t like what I did, but I could tell it turned her on.

  She didn’t smile, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. Her body responded to mine…no matter how hard she tried to deny it.

  Chapter 5

  “I don’t condone violence.” The words fell from my lips in a flat tone, even as my body still vibrated from his touch.

  Traitor.

  My body betrayed me when Michael touched me. I tried to play it cool.

  “Not buying it.” He lifted the beer to his lips and took a sip.

  I stared at them as they hugged the rim of the glass.

  I wanted to smack the cocky grin off his face. His rich brown eyes sparkled, and were filled with mischief as he called me a liar. His words were true no matter how hard I wanted to deny them. Michael was pure man—strong, sexy, and self-confident.

  “Can we agree to disagree?” I asked, pretending not to look at his mouth.

  He licked the beer from his lips. I had the overwhelming urge to use my tongue to capture the few drops of liquid still left behind. “Want a taste?” he asked with a hearty laugh as he tipped the beer in my direction.

  I could feel the blush as it crept up my neck. I wanted to avoid his eyes but couldn’t give him the satisfaction. I always believed in fighting fire with fire.

  “You missed a little,” I said before I reached up and used my thumb to wipe the few drops on his lips.

  His eyes stayed locked with mine as I touched his soft flesh, slowing dragging my fingers from across his skin.

  I placed my thumb in my mouth, closing my lips around it.

  He leaned in close enough for me to smell the musky cologne on his neck. “You’re wicked,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.

  Pulling my thumb from my lips, I replied, “I’m just getting started, hot stuff.”

  He backed away and stared at me before giving me a giant smile. “I may have met my match with you, Mia.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” I couldn’t help but smile. I forgot how much fun it could be to flirt with someone, especially when they were handsome and a smooth talker.

  He made it easy and made me feel sexy.

  At work, I never felt sexy wearing my drab scrubs and knee-length lab coat, and with my hair up in a ponytail. I looked half dead by the time my shift ended at the hospital.

  “Shot?” he asked.

  “I’ve given thousands,” I replied, laughing at my hospital humor.

  “You’re difficult, Mia.” He eyed me as he fiddled with the beer.

  “You have no idea, Michael.” I laughed, wanting to throw myself at him and give in to any wild sexual ideas he currently had, but I wouldn’t allow myself to be so reckless. “What do you have in mind?”

  He looked me straight in the eye and didn’t crack a smile. “Blue balls.”

  “Seems like a personal problem. I could write you a prescription, if you’d like.”

  “Um, fuck no to a prescription, but I’m sure it’s nothing you couldn’t fix.” He smirked. “Wanna help me out?”

  I leaned forward, my lips almost touching his as I said, “Usually when someone walks in with an erection that won’t subside, we drain the fluid with a very large needle. I’m a pro. Interested in seeing my skills firsthand?”

  His mouth hung open as he gaped. “That’s just inhumane. I mean, Jesus, Mia, how could you do that to another human being?” He stepped back, shaking his head.

  “Better than it having to be amputated from lack of circulation. So, what did you want to drink, again?” I smiled until my cheek muscles ached. I couldn’t remember the last time I had smiled or laughed as much as I had with him tonight.

  “Lemon drop. Let’s skip the blue balls,” he said, swallowing hard, probably still reeling from the thought of the long needle in his dick.

  “Good choice, and they’re my favorite.”

  “I gotcha.” He looked away and motioned to the bartender.

  I studied him as he ordered our drinks. Without talking to him, I’d think he was just another meathead muscle guy wi
thout the ability to think quickly and hold a witty conversation, but I would’ve been dead wrong.

  Michael was a conundrum to me—brains, brawn, and beauty. His eyes moved in my direction for a moment, but his attention was drawn away from me by the clinking of the glasses on the bar.

  Grinning, he slid the clear liquid in front of me. “What shall we drink to?” he asked as he placed the sugar-soaked lemons in between us.

  “To blue balls?” I asked, holding up the shot glass.

  “Fuck that shit. Don’t ever mention that to me again,” he said, picking up his glass. “To new beginnings.” He raised his glass and tapped it against mine.

  Warmth cascaded throughout my body before the liquid ever touched my lips. I didn’t want to read into his words and feel like a fool, but the thought of getting to know this sexy-as-hell man made my toes curl. “Cheers.”

  I watched him over the rim; he stared at me, never wavering, and I winked as the liquid slid down my throat. It burned for a moment, and I winced from the vodka before I slammed the glass down. I reached for the lemon, needing something to cover the taste of the vodka. He was one step ahead of me, and already had the lemon in his hand.

  I blinked slowly. The martini and shot coursing through my system was already starting to cloud my vision. Opening my lips, I stuck out my tongue and waited for him to place the lemon on it.

  I closed my lips around his fingers as the sugar made my mouth water. Running my tongue across the coarse pads of his fingers, I sucked the juice and swallowed. His eyes narrowed as he watched my mouth with parted lips.

  I had him right where I wanted him. Two could play games.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered, and looked away as I opened my lips, allowing his fingers to slide out.

  “You okay? You look a little off.” I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to hide my laughter.

  He leaned in, brushing the hair away from my shoulder. “If you keep that shit up, I’m going to find another way to occupy your mouth.”

  I’d like to say it was the alcohol that caused him to have that effect on me, but I’d be lying. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck, bringing his lips within centimeters of mine. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me. Let’s not play games here, Mia.” He searched my eyes.

  I could feel his warm breath against my lips, and my heart pounded in my chest faster than the rhythm of the music. Looking into his eyes without blinking, I melted against him. “Who said I’m playing, Michael.”

  I wanted him to kiss me.

  He inched close, eyes locked with mine, as I placed my hand against his chest. The rapid tattoo of his heart thumped against my palm, matching the beat of mine.

  Leaning forward, I closed my eyes and held my breath. Butterflies filled my stomach and my legs trembled. The warmth of his lips sent shivers down my body.

  The noise around us disappeared as he kissed me. Nothing else seemed to exist except him and me.

  As I tipped my head back, his grip on the back of my neck increased as he pulled me against his rock-hard chest. The feel of him against me was amazing as he kissed me perfectly. Not too much lip, a dash of tongue as he held me against him. I moaned into his mouth as he bit my bottom lip. I sighed against his mouth, melting into his touch—I wanted to be closer to him.

  His tongue soothed the spot that he’d just sunk his teeth into, and my sex convulsed from the tenderness.

  We became one, lost in each other.

  Pulling away, he whispered, “Damn.” He rubbed his knuckles against my collarbone, before releasing his grip on my neck.

  Instantly I missed the warmth of his palm. My body swayed, as I stood there in a daze, blinking as I tried to regain my ability to think. Dumbfounded and in a fog from his kiss, I stood there like an idiot, with a grin on my face.

  Chapter 6

  “See me again.” I wasn’t asking.

  It was a simple statement, and I thought I’d use the moment to my advantage.

  “I know you’re busy, but I’ll make time for you,” I said as I gripped her hand, squeezing it.

  Her eyes closed and opened slowly before she peered into my eyes. “My life is hectic, Michael. I don’t have a normal schedule.” She frowned and looked at our hands as I stroked her fingers.

  “Fuck normal, Mia. Do you want to see me again or not?” I cocked my head and stared into her shimmering hazel eyes.

  “I do.” Her face was soft as her frown melted away and her eyes flickered back to mine.

  “Tomorrow,” I said. “I want to take you to dinner.”

  “I’m off tomorrow; beyond that I can’t make any promises, Michael.”

  “Give me your phone, doc.”

  She fumbled as she dug inside her purse, pulling out her phone.

  I grabbed it, not letting her back out now, and dialed my number. Smiling, I snapped a quick photo and attached it to my number in her contacts. “I have your number and you have mine. What time do you want me to pick you up?”

  She waved her hands in the air and scrunched her lips. “I can drive,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

  “I’m driving and paying. No arguments.” I wanted to surprise her and hopefully make that sassy-ass mouth speechless. “What time, Mia?” I asked.

  “Is six okay? I have to work the next—”

  I rested my finger against her lips. “Six is perfect. Text me your address and wear something sexy.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, giggling before saluting me.

  I liked her smartass attitude. She’d sure as hell keep me on my toes.

  I grabbed her hand and brought the soft skin to my lips. Inhaling the vanilla scent, I peeked up at her face as I kissed it. She watched me with parted lips and wide eyes. “Until tomorrow, Mia. I don’t want to keep you from your friends any longer.”

  “Tomorrow,” she whispered.

  I waited for her to disappear into the crowd before trying to find Anthony. He sat on a couch against the wall with a group of girls surrounding him. They were enthralled by the topic of conversation…him.

  “Where ya playing next?” the blonde sitting to his right asked, as she stroked his leg.

  “Yeah, we want to come see you in action.” The brunette bounced in her seat.

  I rolled my eyes as my brother looked at me and grinned. “Ladies, this is my brother Mike. He’s a fighter.”

  Fucker.

  The last thing I needed or fucking wanted was the attention of these “ladies,” as Anthony so nicely put it.

  “Oooh,” cooed the blonde as she slithered away from him and turned toward me.

  “Ready to hit it?” I asked, ignoring them. I didn’t feel like making small talk.

  “Sure, man.” He pushed himself up and kissed their hands. “Next Saturday at the Ritz. I’m going to see each and every one of you, right?”

  They replied “yes” and nodded with conviction.

  I grabbed his shirt, pulling him away from his fans. “You’re such a whore at times, Anth.”

  “I know. Whatever fills the seats, Mike. What girl doesn’t like a rocker?” He shrugged and waved at them over his shoulder as we walked away. “Hey, can we stop by the Ritz? I want to ask the owner a quick question.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “Tell me about the girl you were talking to,” he said as he slapped my shoulder.

  I looked at him and laughed. “She’s not who she seems to be.” Sometimes there are things you keep close to the vest—especially in my big-mouth family.

  “I saw her knee that guy in the balls. She seems pretty hardcore.”

  “She’s something else. Impressed the hell out of me, really.”

  “Hmm,” he said as we made our way toward the Ritz.

  “What the fuck does ‘hmm’ mean?”

  “Nothing. I think you need a ball buster in your life,” he said through a laugh.

  “Forget about it, brother.”

  “Did you
make a plan to see her again?” He eyed me with one eyebrow cocked and a silly-ass grin on his face.

  “Yes,” I answered, as I stopped walking and looked at him.

  “Maybe she’ll break you.”

  “I don’t need that shit in my life,” I said, leaving him to catch up.

  “You need to let loose a little, but in the right way. Maybe she’s just what the doctor ordered.”

  “You have no idea, Anthony.” I laughed as I grabbed the door handle, opening it to the most ear-shattering guitar riff known to man, and followed Anthony inside.

  I leaned against the wall, watching the band as they played for their screaming fans. The looks on their faces reminded me of watching Anthony when he was entertaining the crowds.

  His adrenaline rush came from the people that watched him like a rock god, and mine came from beating the piss out of someone.

  When I fought, the blood pumped through my body so rapidly that I could almost feel it moving. It’s hard to describe to another person. Every muscle in my body grows rigid and screams for release. My breathing increases to the point I feel like my lungs will burst if I suck in any more air. When I step into the ring, everything else fades away. I feel like a warrior, fighting for the thrill and challenge. There’s so much adrenaline in my system that I barely feel the blows of my opponent as they land against my body, sometimes crushing my bones.

  “I’m ready,” Anthony said as he tapped me on the shoulder.

  I’d been so lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice his approach.

  “Yeah. This place gives me a headache.”

  “Wait until we play here. We’re going to blow the roof off this motherfucker.”

  His smile touched his eyes as he pumped his fists in the air. Anthony didn’t care about playing music to make a living; he simply did it for the thrill and the pussy.

  He loved tattooing too much to ever give it up, but since we owned the shop, we made our own hours. We worked out a schedule so that at least two of us were there in the evenings.

  “You’re driving,” I said as I threw the keys to him.

  “Fuck yeah, I love driving this truck. Bitch purrs when I got her in my clutches.”