A Nurse for the Wolfman (Chimera Secrets Book 1)
Page 6
Since her search proved too vague, she did more searches, all of them leading to more dead ends and a disturbing image on one website of a dog spliced with a cat. Not as cute as you’d expect and obviously Photoshopped.
She idly typed in the word Luke.
That proved useless with a gazillion hits.
Then Luke injury. Luke shattered hip.
Nothing. No surprise. Without a last name it was worse than finding the very tiny tip of a needle in a haystack.
Shutting down the computer, she went to bed, but lay awake. Thinking of her new patient.
Which might be why, when she fell asleep, she dreamt of him.
She was in a field. Lush and green. The grass verdant and soft, tickling her bare feet. She glanced down at her toes. Wiggled them. How real it felt. Real and yet surreal given no grass ever looked so perfect, each strand the same height. The green hue uniform. When she brushed it with her toes, the stalks immediately returned to a standing position.
“Softer than any carpet.” The deep rumble drew her gaze ahead of her, and she blinked.
Gaped, as well, for Luke stood in the field. Nude. And looking mighty fine.
Margaret eyed him, the width of his shoulders, the toned strength of his arms, the ridge of his abs, the vee…
She averted her gaze. “You’re naked.”
“So are you.”
At his reply, she glanced down and squeaked, threw her hands over the obvious bits, but that did little to hide the goodies. Her cheeks heated, and he chuckled. “Why hide it, Florence?”
“My name isn’t Florence.”
He shrugged, a roll of those big bare shoulders that caused moist heat to blossom between her legs. “You look like a Florence Nightingale, especially in that hot cap.” He gave a jerk of his head.
She didn’t dare let go of her cooch or her boobs, but a bob of her head showed the damned hat perched on her head. She sighed. “It is the most ridiculous thing.”
“I think it’s cute.”
“Said by a man who doesn’t deal with bobby pins every morning. Any idea where I am?”
“In a field.”
She cast him a glare. “Duh. I see that. I just don’t recognize it.”
He looked around. “Probably because it isn’t a real place but a construct.”
Construct as in a dream. “I wonder why a field, though.” And where were her clothes? She’d given up on hiding her body. Stupid to be embarrassed considering none of this was real.
“Makes sense to me. Field of dreams.”
“That’s the title of a movie.”
“It started out as a quote first.”
“I can’t believe I’m arguing with you.” He wasn’t real. “This is crazy.” She shook her head.
“Here I would have called it the most fun I’ve had in a while. Usually when those fucktards drug me, I sink into a black hole. You’re an unexpected treat.”
She snickered. “Oh, that’s priceless. Dream-you thinks he’s dreaming me. Sorry to break it to you, but this is my subconscious screwing around.”
“Oh really?” The hint of a smile hovered on his lips. “And why exactly would your subconscious be dreaming of me?”
Her turn to shrug. “Because you’re hot, and I haven’t had sex in a bit.”
“So you want to screw me? I’m game.”
Her cheeks flamed as dream Luke spread his arms wide in invitation. “I do not want to screw you.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m totally willing.”
“I would never sleep with a patient.”
“But you said it yourself, this is a dream.”
A dream that felt real and she probably wouldn’t remember when she woke. “I don’t know you.”
“Is that a prerequisite for good sex?” He stepped closer, and she could have sworn she felt heat radiating off of him, scorching her skin.
“This is nuts.”
“Totally.” His hand cupped the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair, drawing her near.
“I don’t kiss strangers.”
“How can I be a stranger when I’ve seen you naked?” he whispered against her lips.
She closed her eyes as his mouth slanted over hers. Her breath caught at the soft sensuality of the kiss. A kiss that ignited a fire.
Their naked bodies touched, and while it wasn’t the same electric shock as in person, she leaned into the warmth of him, the sleek smoothness and hardness of his body. The hair on his chest, thick and golden, tickled. His free hand curled around her waist and pulled her close. Close enough his erection became trapped between them.
She moaned as sensations hit her. When his tongue probed at her mouth, she opened it, sucked it in, and trembled at the growing arousal.
He growled against her, a soft rumble with only three syllables, “I want you.”
She wanted him, too, and this was a dream, which meant she could have him.
Margaret pushed away from him only so she could lay herself down on the plush grass. She opened her arms.
“Take me.” Trite and yet his eyes glowed, like literally glowed, green and primal. In that moment, it was if he wasn’t just a man but an animal.
Fear made her tremble, but as his body covered hers, she forgot it. Forgot it with the burgeoning passion that begged for relief.
His thigh inserted itself between her legs, and she rubbed against it as his mouth blazed a path from her lips down her neck to her breasts.
As he sucked the taut peak of one, her back arched and she gasped.
“Yes.”
He kept suckling at her nipple, and his hand took the place of his thigh, rubbing between her legs, stroking the wet folds of her sex. Thrusting into her. And she cried out, clawed at the ground, tearing at the grass, her hips riding to meet his fingers. His mouth ravaging her taut buds.
Her climax roared close and—
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The alarm rudely jolted her awake, and disorientation hit her hard. Along with frustration, as her body throbbed. Aching. Needing.
As she caught her breath, she thought of reaching under the covers and finishing herself. Then wondered, did the cameras extend to the private quarters? Lowry claimed they didn’t; however, this place held secrets. Secrets they obviously wanted kept. How far would they go to keep an eye on their staff?
She glanced at the ceiling made of suspended pristine white squares with the perforated holes. So many holes, any of which could hide a lens.
Nuts. The company wasn’t spying on its employees. The privacy laws they’d be breaking would cost them a fortune in lawsuits.
Or had she signed something indemnifying them?
She’d skimmed through the contracts. For all she knew, somewhere in the mumbo-jumbo legalese she’d agreed to them cataloguing her ever move, her every bowel movement.
Ugh.
Now she didn’t even want to use the bathroom, except she didn’t have a choice.
The one good thing about wondering if someone watched her pee was it cured her lingering arousal. She managed to keep it under control and thought she’d done a great job until she walked into Luke’s room and he said, “Hello, Florence.”
Chapter Six
A shitty sleep left Luke crankier than usual. It didn’t help he was hungry. But he refused to eat. Eating would keep him strong. A perfect subject for their tests.
He wasn’t about to make it easy for them. He’d already mastered getting his body to ignore the IV nutrients. He could ignore the hunger pangs hitting him as well.
Now if he could only control his dick. He’d woken with a hard-on and not a hand to stroke it.
Down, boy. He couldn’t afford to have Sphinx or his cronies noticing his sudden interest in sex. Or was this their fault?
Had they injected him with some kind of erectile stimulator? Given he’d not had issues before now, it seemed plausible.
Well, they wouldn’t get away with it. Bad enough he was a guinea pig for treatment, he wasn�
��t about to stud for them as well.
He willed his cock to wilt. Glared at it until the sheet lay flat once more. A situation that didn’t last five seconds when she entered the room, and for some reason, he said, “Hello, Florence.”
She recoiled. “What did you call me?”
“Florence, as in Nightingale. If you don’t like it, then blame the stupid hat.”
For some reason she frowned. “My name is Nurse Henley.”
“I don’t give a fuck who you are. What are you doing here?” he snapped, pleasure at her appearance drawing irritation, too.
“I work here.”
“I told you to leave.”
“You did,” she agreed, moving to the sink and washing her hands.
“And?”
“And what?” she asked, looking deliciously fresh in a pressed white blouse, trim slacks, and that damnable cap.
“You need to get out of here. This place is dangerous.”
“Only if you wander outside after dark. I hear there are beasts in the woods.” She dried her hands on a paper towel.
“Did they warn you of the monsters in suits?” They were the more dangerous ones.
“The doctors aren’t your enemy. I understand you’re frustrated, but everyone here wants you to get better.”
He uttered a short barking laugh. “Don’t tell me you believe that shit.” She was behind him, out of his line of sight. He couldn’t see her, but he sensed her with an uncanny awareness.
“I believe that you’re a sick man in need of treatment, and part of that illness is the lack of recognition that there is a problem.”
He chuckled. “I know what the problem is, Flo, and it ain’t the fact I’m blind to my situation. There are things happening here you don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.” She reappeared with a stethoscope and blood pressure gauge.
“If I do, then you’ll be in danger.”
“From who?” she asked, wrapping the band around his forearm.
“The people keeping me locked up. They’ll kill you if they think you know too much.”
“Do you realize how crazy that sounds?” She pumped the band and watched the gauge.
“It’s only crazy if I’m lying. Which I’m not.”
She pressed the stethoscope against his arm instead of replying.
“Nothing wrong with my heart rate,” he said as she pressed her fingers to his wrist and glanced at her watch.
“You’re right. It’s fine.” She tapped the results into the tablet then proceeded to grab a penlight from her pocket.
“Must you?” Luke sighed as she shone it in his eyes.
“Your pupils appear fine. Your eyes are brown?” she said almost in a query.
“Most of the time.”
She cast him a sharp look. “They change depending on lighting?”
“More like mood.” He grinned. “Want to see what color they are when I’m happy?” A waggled brow pursed her lips.
“Do I need to get another wet washcloth?”
The rejoinder brought a bark of laughter. Unexpected and genuine. “Nice one, Flo.”
“How did you sleep?” she asked.
“Great.”
“Dreams?” she asked, still taking notes.
“Oh yes. A very nice one.” Said in a low timbre. “What about you? How did you sleep, Flo?”
For some reason the question brought a blush to her cheek, which caused a chain reaction in his own body.
“Fine.” She slapped the tablet back on its perch. “No dreams at all.”
An odd statement to make. “What did Chimera want with you?”
She glanced at him for a moment. “To excuse your behavior and then ask me to become your personal caretaker.”
“I don’t need a fucking nanny,” he growled. Especially one like her, who made him feel. He didn’t want to feel.
“Maybe you wouldn’t need a full-time nurse if you weren’t so grouchy all the time,” she sassed, heading for the wall. He heard the hiss of the refrigerator seal being broken then the door being shut.
“You try being tied to a bed twenty-four-seven.”
“Try not being a dick and maybe they’ll let you go.” She returned to his view, holding a container with a spoon.
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“True.” She placed the bowl on the tray beside him. “But I’ve met you, and you’re not exactly Mr. Congeniality.”
“Because—”
He couldn’t say more because she shoved a spoon full of tepid porridge into his mouth. He sputtered. Choked. Spat some out and scowled.
“No food.”
“You have to eat,” she insisted.
“I’m on a hunger strike.”
“How are you supposed to get better if you don’t eat?”
“There is nothing wrong with me.” A lie. There was plenty wrong, but nothing that could be fixed.
“Oh, I’d say there’s plenty wrong, starting with your attitude. Now open wide.” She zoomed the spoon, and he clamped his mouth shut.
Glared.
She shook her head and sighed. “Are you really going to make this hard?”
Yes, because he needed her to leave. Now. He resorted to crudity in the hopes of making her flee. “Hard is what I do best, Flo. Pull back the sheet and you’ll see.”
Her lips pressed into a tight line. Disapproval, with a hint of color in her cheeks. “That is totally inappropriate.”
“It is. So, quit. Run crying to Sphincter or Chimera or whoever the fuck makes your schedule and ask to be reassigned.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“What I’d like is to die in peace.”
“Well, that isn’t going to happen, so open up for the airplane.” She zoomed it.
He glared some more. “I am not a—” He would have said child, but she jammed the spoon in his mouth. He clamped his teeth on it so she couldn’t yank it out.
She pulled. “Be a good boy.”
Instead he growled and held on.
“Are you really going to make me do it?”
Do what? he wondered but couldn’t say anything if he wanted to hold on to the spoon.
She ripped down the sheet, baring his upper chest, which seemed rather promising until she grabbed hold of his nipple and twisted.
“Ow!” he yelled, and she pulled the spoon loose.
“Aha.” She dabbed it back in the container while he gave her the evil eye.
She was sly.
Adorable.
And she was waving that spoon again.
“This is abuse,” Luke declared.
“As is most of what comes out of your mouth, so I’d say that makes us even.”
“Hardly eve—”
More porridge hit his mouth, and this time he spat it out. Then gave her a triumphant look.
She sighed. “Really? You know I’m not leaving until you eat.”
“Then you’d better get comfy, Flo.”
But his hot nurse wouldn’t give in. “Would you prefer a nutrient drip? Because I can hook one up.”
“Go ahead and try. It won’t work.”
“Dr. Chimera said you weren’t doing well on them.” She gnawed her lower lip.
“Dr. Chimera says a lot of shit. But that happens to be true.”
“Well, I am not leaving until you eat.”
“Then I hope you brought a change of clothes and a bed because it won’t happen anytime soon.”
“Surely we can strike a deal,” she offered.
“Get me out of here.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Then there’s nothing to say.”
“I’m not giving up.”
And she did her best for the next two hours to feed him. Tried to cajole him into opening his mouth. But he was wise to her games.
He didn’t reply, and it appeared that by not baiting her, she didn’t resort to torture. In other words, she didn�
��t tweak his nipple or tease him in any way.
Kind of disappointing.
Even more disheartening when she left with a cheery, “See you in a few hours.”
No. She couldn’t return. He wasn’t sure if he could take another bout with her. He’d end up giving in. Eating. Wanting to live. Which would be cruel.
Knowing someone watched, he snapped, “I want a new nurse.”
This time it wasn’t Sphinx who replied, but Chimera himself, his voice smooth and modulated. “Already? She’s just begun caring for you.”
“She’s mean.” And sexy. Not to mention her scent did something to him.
“She is rather assertive and unorthodox in her methods. But I like it.”
“You would.” Chimera must take pleasure in torture given how he condoned it.
“Why so miserable? I would think you’d be happy I entrusted you into Margaret’s capable hands.”
Her name was Margaret? He’d only heard her referred to as Nurse Henley. Margaret. A nice name. Did she shorten it to Margie or Maggie? Not that he gave a shit.
“Look at you, thinking about the lovely Margaret. I can see why. She is quite attractive.”
“Hadn’t really noticed.” A lie so big Chimera couldn’t fail to spot it.
“Really, Luke, how you could not? Those fine features. Thick hair. For a woman who just hit thirty, she’s aging well.”
“Thirty isn’t old.” Look at him, almost thirty-five and fitter than he was at twenty. And that was with no actual physical activity. Imagine if he got free and truly pushed the limits of his body.
“True. Age can be transcended with a bit of help. Science is a wonderful thing. We can cure and fix almost anything.”
“For the right price.” Because Chimera didn’t share his secrets for the greater good. He sold it to the highest bidders. There were plenty. The rich would do anything to extend their lives. To cheat old age. To make themselves better.
They didn’t always grasp what a curse longevity and better health came with. Or they did know and just didn’t care.
“This kind of research takes money,” Chimera replied. “And you and I both know it’s not something that should be given with impunity. Can you imagine if everyone received your gifts?”
“Society would implode.” In a bloodshed of epic proportions because, for all those who could handle the change in their bodies, their psyches, the essence that made them human, there were those who gave in to the primal beat that thrummed so strongly inside them.