by Gina Kincade
“Me, too, Riley. Anyway, he wrote in his, The Symposium, that according to Greek Mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and two faces. Did you know that?”
“No, darling. I am not big on Greek Mythology. Why?” Riley drew closer to him in the bath, the heels of his feet behind her back, pulling her in tight.
“Well, Zeus so feared their strength and power that he plotted to make them inferior to him by dividing their strength, by dividing them into two separate parts, each with one face, two arms and two legs. It was to be an action which condemned them to spend their lives searching for their other half — the half they needed to complete their whole. I found my other half in you last night.”
“I never believed you would be mine to love.” Riley said in almost a whisper.
“Well, I am — we are. Plato was right. Even Zeus couldn’t keep us apart, the future is ours, Riley, to love with one heart, one desire, one passion, a single shared breath — our halves united by love as one.”
“And someone to watch over me.”
~ The End ~
About the Author
MUFFY IS A USA Today, Amazon, International, and Award-Winning Bestselling Author of Provocative and Paranormal Romance about love, sex, hope and passion. An American author of the popular Shadow Seduction Series (a paranormal love story), the Ribbons of Moonlight Series (a contemporary romance), the Heart Series and Memories of Us Series, she has penned a dozen more books and anthology collections.
Muffy, likened in style to one of the Bronte sisters and Anne Rice, was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. They lived in most points between Alaska and France. Having spent her formative years in Europe, Muffy 'came of age' in France which forged her joie de vivre and love for books and writing. Married and living in the tropical paradise of SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy writes provocative romance and sensual literotica while she enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Buddy.
Join Muffy's mailing list to get the scoop on her new releases, free reads, giveaways and special promotions. Follow her on Facebook at Muffy Wilson or MuffyWilson.com and on Twitter at @SexyMuffyWilson.
Muffy also blogs daily at Muffy Wilson Books
Contact Muffy at [email protected]
~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion ~
Where to Find More about Muffy Wilson
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More by Muffy Wilson
Coming In Hot: Paranormal & Contemporary Medical Romance Boxed Set
Steamy & Dreamy: A Collection of Sizzling Romance, Fairytales, and more!
Prowlers & Growlers: A Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection
Cimmerian Shade: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection
Dark Desires: A Contemporary Romance Collection Full of Bad Boys, Bikers, Billionaires, and More!
The Hearts Series: The Complete Boxed Set
Consenting Hearts (The Hearts Series Book 1)
Secret Hearts (The Hearts Series Book 2)
Immortal Hearts (The Hearts Series Book 3)
Healing Hearts (The Hearts Series Book 4)
The Para-Portage of Emily (Shadow Seduction Series Book 1)
Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences (Ribbons of Moonbeams Book 1)
Cheerleaders in Heat
Characters Welcome: An Erotic Authors Guild anthology
Memories of Us (3 Book Series)
The Touch: Memories of Us Series ~ Book One
The Embrace: Memories of Us Series ~ Book Two
The Kiss: Memories of Us Series ~ Book Three
Visit Muffy Wilson Books website for more...
Sex is the Best Medicine
ISBN: 978-1-926514-70-3
Second Digital Edition
March 2017
Published by: Naughty Nights Press, LLC
http://naughtynightspress.com/
Copyright ©2016 Kathleen Grieve
First Published in the Coming In Hot Boxed Set
September 2016
ISBN: 978-1-926514-44-4
All rights reserved.
This book is copyrighted and protected by law.
Dedication
For my beautiful daughter, Sydney. My fellow partner in crime when it comes to all night reading binges! I am so very happy that you inherited your love of books from me. Can’t wait to go back to BookCon in NYC once more and indulge in all of our book boyfriend fantasies. Momma Loves you!
When adventurous and sexy becomes the most thrilling dare of all...
Conservative psychiatrist, Grant Anderson plays by the rules, believing he's in complete control of his own deep, dark compulsions. Just on the brink of making a life-altering decision, a minor accident lands him in the emergency room. Encountering the irresistible and outrageous Kate Sumner changes everything for the stuffy psychiatrist. Suddenly, the fun-loving, adventure-seeking nurse tempts Grant in ways he's never known, daring him to forgo all inhibitions and expectations. Will the doctor learn that pleasure is the world's best medicine?
Sex Is The Best Medicine
Kathleen Grieve
Chapter One
Grant Anderson stared down at the nondescript can of plain soup. Despair filled him. Fresh loneliness constricted his heart and seized his lungs. This was what his life had been reduced to for the past several years. Stuck in this large old house, unable to leave because of the fear. No, not true, he amended. He’d been getting better, hadn’t he? Taking short trips out into the world, lengthening the time he’d spent in society little by little until he’d found the courage to restart his life in a new part of town.
New office. New home. New me. No more negative bullshit.
His stomach rumbled and an image of Bandera’s Restaurant in Old Town Scottsdale popped into his mind. What he wouldn’t give for a dish of their juicy rotisserie chicken, hunk of amazing cornbread, and a glass of one of their signature reds. His mouth watered. He could almost taste the savory and sweet flavors.
But it’s Saturday night. That meant crowds of people and a very long wait.
So? His inner voice said with a derisive sneer. You’re a new man now. One who can conquer anything.
Coward that he was, he couldn’t quite gather the courage to grab his coat and head out to Bandera’s. Not even to pick up a to go order. The can of soup shook in his trembling hand. Grant looked at his quaking fists. A gruff curse left his lips. Damn it! He would conquer this fear. His fingers tightened on the can as he began to breathe in and out in slow measured breaths. He shouldn’t listen to that voice. The one who’d constantly degraded him over the years, especially after his grandmother died. Gramms. His heart constricted with fresh grief.
Grant had made great strides toward getting his life in order. The way it used to be when his Gramms was alive. Her fiery nature and penchant for not letting him wallow in his own bullshit had gotten him through the trauma and loss of his parents. He vowed not to back slide now. Too much was at stake. After all, he was in control of his own deep, dark compulsions, not the other way around. Wasn’t he?
Sure you are, but you’re still not willing to go get something hot and satisfying to fill your gut because you’re afraid to face a room full of crowded people, the voice mocked.
Grant glanced longingly at the neatly stacked boxes marked with a black sharpie with the word kitchen printed in his precise penmanship across each one that lined one wall. It was stupid, really. But when he stared at them all he thought of was freedom. Freedom to regain his life back. All h
is things were packed away to be moved to his new home tomorrow. His pulse leapt and his palms dampened with sweat. He would finally be free of this house and all of the memories that went with this place.
Damn. Damn the Agoraphobia that had taken over his life.
Agoraphobia... Fear of leaving your home. As a clinical psychologist he knew the term well. As a patient who suffered from the phobia himself, he not only knew the term well but had struggled with his demons on a daily basis.
Not anymore, he declared. No longer would he be trapped within the confines of these old walls. He’d been working toward breaking free for almost a year. Small things at first. Opening the front door and inching closer and closer to the world outside until he could stand on the porch, then out into the driveway, then the sidewalk. It had taken him the better part of four months to make it down the street to the corner market. By the time he’d stepped beyond the air-conditioned glass doors of Sprouts Grocer, Grant’s heart had thundered deep within his chest. His breath came out in short bursts from stiff, seized lungs. Sweat had poured from his skin and his clothes had been drenched with the effort it had taken just to walk within the confines of the building. Luckily, there had been few people there that morning. If the store had been crowded...
Grant yanked himself from the memory with a jolt. No longer. No longer would he be trapped in this house like a damn animal in a cage. He swiped at the moisture beading his forehead with the hem of his pressed polo shirt. Mouth suddenly dry, he used the handheld can opener and with a few vicious twists, the lid sprang free, slicing through the skin of his palm in his carelessness. Blood spouted from the jagged gash.
“Fuck!” Grant bit out through clenched teeth as pain ripped through him.
At the kitchen sink, he turned on the faucet. Cold, crisp water flowed over the wound, stinging like a son of a bitch. He hissed. Crimson continued to flow as he studied the ragged edges of the laceration. He needed stitches, he realized with shock. Leave the safety of his house to go to the emergency room? His heart stuttered as the panicked thought flowed through him. He hadn’t been to a hospital since... “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” he shouted. Blood ran in rivulets down his arm to his elbow as he stood there, vision blurring around the edges of the cut in the middle of his palm. Chest tight, he began the breathing exercises once more.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Once his respirations were under control, he looked at his predicament logically. He could do this. No need to panic. After all, this was what he’d been working so hard for all these months. To be normal and leave the house like anybody else.
Yes, but you think you’re strong enough to go there? You haven’t stepped foot inside a hospital since—
“Enough!” Grant shouted. “Shut the fuck up and leave me alone.”
Grant stiffened his resolve and wrapped his wounded hand in a clean dishtowel that he’d found in one of the packed boxes. Blood soon soaked through the polyester blend of cloth. With his heart thundering between his ears, he fished his car keys from the front pocket of his jeans and headed toward the garage. He had no choice. His tetanus shot was out of date and his hand needed stitches. Expression grim, Grant climbed into his SUV, careful not to get blood on the soft leather, and chanted the rhyme that always soothed him when he felt himself about to panic.
Chapter Two
“Excuse me?” Kate asked. Her deft fingers paused on the keyboard of the emergency room’s triage form she’d been filling out on the computer. She couldn’t have heard what she’d thought she’d heard. No one loses a... And in her... Kate gave a quick shake of her head. Nope. Impossible. She had to have heard wrong.
Kate glanced over at the forty-five year old woman. Her dull, dark hair was cut short around her chin. Streaked with gray, it stuck out at odd angles in unruly waves. She sported a yellow and orange striped tank top that had a few stains on the front along with a pair of old faded Capri pants. Chipped purple polish adorned toenails, which peeked through the sandals she wore. She was in sore need of a pedicure, Kate noted.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Herman. You lost what?” Kate tried once more.
Mrs. Herman’s face scrunched up and her lower lip trembled. “A tampon. I lost a tampon in my uterus. The doctor must get it out, now.” Her voice rose shrilly. “The drainage is—”
“Okay,” Kate said slowly.
TMI...way too much. She thanked her lucky stars she was at the triage desk instead of assigned to one of the intake rooms with the pelvic beds where she’d be putting Mrs. Herman and her lost tampon.
“I’ll just get a set of vital signs and then take you back to one of the examination rooms where the doctor will take care of the rest,” Kate said.
Just another day in the ER. She couldn’t wait to see the look on old Dr. Ravuri’s face when he walked into Exam Room Three. The man was from India and new to the States. Kate and the other ER nurses spent much of their downtime educating him on American pop culture. They delighted in shocking the older man. Her lips twitched.
Relief washed over the older woman’s face. “Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said fervently. “It’s been three weeks and I just can’t take it anymore.”
“Sounds like it’s been quite an ordeal for you,” Kate empathized, removing the blood pressure cuff from Mrs. Herman’s beefy upper arm. She glanced at Angelo, the ER tech. “She can go to room three. And set up for a pelvic after you get her blood work and IV in place, please. We need to make sure her white count isn’t elevated. Dr. Ravuri may want an abdominal ultrasound, but we will see what he orders once he’s examined her.”
“Sure thing,” Angelo said. He turned to Mrs. Herman. “This way, ma’am.” As he escorted the older woman from the triage room, his dark gaze met Kate’s over the top of Mrs. Herman’s head. His eyebrows lifted and he had a WTF expression on his face.
Kate bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. The look on Angelo’s face was priceless. She gave a slight shrug. Far be it for her to explain to the woman that it was physically impossible to lose a tampon in a uterus. The female body just wasn’t built that way. She’d leave that up to Dr. Ravuri. Her gaze swept over the full lobby of patients waiting to be seen by one of the eight ER doctors on staff at Phoenix General. Damn. If it weren’t so darn busy, she’d have time to go explain the situation to him herself just to see the old doc’s expression on his darkly handsome face. A low chuckle escaped her and she turned back to the status board to call the next patient.
“Grant Anderson,” Kate shouted over the din of noisy conversation and the blare of the television in the overly cramped waiting room.
A tall man with unruly chestnut hair stood and walked her way. He wore a scowl on his face and clutched a hand wrapped in a bloodied kitchen towel against the black polo shirt he wore. A very built, well-chiseled chest, Kate thought as she watched him approach her. Despite the scowl, she appreciated the way the faded denim of his jeans clung to powerful thighs and slung low on tapered hips. Her blood hummed and she almost let out a low whistle, but as her gaze swept back up to the strained lines around his mouth and tight jaw, she caught herself. She studied the cold, deep blue eyes. He was angry she realized. About what she hadn’t a clue. Maybe it had something to do with his injury or the long wait time. In the end, it didn’t matter.
The only thing that mattered was getting through the next few hours of her shift so she could get the hell out of here. A niggle of guilt made her feel a bit ashamed, but she couldn’t help the way she felt. She was tired of all the people. The nonstop complaints about how long they’ve been waiting for either a doctor or for their test results. There’d been a constant barrage of unrealistic expectations. Like wanting to eat after just puking, for example. Who in their right mind actually thought they’d get food after blowing chow?
All of the regular narcotic abusers had been in so far, as well, wanting their pain meds and a cool place to sleep. This was a hospital for Christ’s sake, not a hotel, and RN did not stand for refreshment
s and narcotics. She heaved a sigh and tried to shake off her negative thoughts. Not all shifts were like this one. Most of the time she loved her job, but today had definitely been one for the books.
“Follow me, Mr. Anderson.” Without waiting to see if he did as instructed, she led the way to a small anteroom and sat at the computer once more. Suddenly tense, she moved the mouse over his name and clicked on the intake form, blowing out a long breath in an effort to relax. Why had she let his prickly demeanor rub off on her? Kate had dealt with more than her share of impatient, angry people today. Well, every day, she amended. Mr. Anderson would be one at the end of a long list. She rolled her shoulders, pasted a pleasant smile on her face, and gave him her full attention. She waved to the only other seat in the room.
“Have a seat, Mr. Anderson, and we will get started. What brings you to the hospital today?” she asked, deepening her voice and drawing out his name like Agent Smith in the Matrix movies. No reason why she couldn’t have a little bit of fun. Maybe she could entice him a bit. Maybe he’d even smile. After all, who didn’t like a good sci-fi flick? She’d bet her last dollar that he had a panty-dropping smile.
His scowl deepened. Kate’s lips twitched, but she won the battle over the smile that threatened to break free. Apparently Mr. Anderson wasn’t a Matrix fan. One couldn’t account for taste and he lacked a sense of humor. What a pity. All that yumminess suddenly lost all its appeal.
“I need stitches,” he said, voice cold.
Wow. If he could go breathe some of that arctic chill out in the desert heat outside it’d be a balmy 70 degrees instead of 115. No surprise there. Why were all the good looking ones gay, married, or a cold fish like this guy? Kate sighed. Slipping on a pair of latex free gloves, she avoided his angry gaze. She scooted the stool closer. Reaching for his injury, she gently unwrapped the bloodied dishtowel covering his hand.
