Jenkins and the Naughty Nurse: A Beyond Series Off-shoot

by Ashley Logan

  "Yeah, well I got some more. Better ones. With hands."

  "Fuck you," he says, laughing. "Fine. Sunday. Give your people my love."

  "Will do. Give Lex a kiss for me."

  "Quit trying to kiss my girlfriend, asshole."

  The phone cuts his laughter short as I terminate his call and make my way towards the happy family sounds filling my living room.

  I watch from the doorway as Stace tickles Ry on the couch, and have to wonder if I've ever wanted to be anything other than a family man. I'd thought my dad was a family man until my behavior drove him away, but watching Stace and Ry, I don't think anything they could ever do would keep me from loving them. The kind of emotion in my heart right now is the unconditional kind. Even if they decide they don't need me one day, I'm still only going to want the best for them.

  Stace spies me watching and for a moment our eyes lock and everything else fades into the background. It's as if she can read my thoughts and I can read hers. I can see her surprise, her fear, her vulnerability, but also her strength and determination. And her longing.

  Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and she dodges an attack from Ry without even looking as the undeniable connection between us refuses to stay at a gentle simmer. Loosening my collar as my temperature rises, I swallow hard.

  I'm man enough for her; Stacey's family man. A man that will take care of her always, in every way she wants; including what she's asking for when she looks at me like she is right now with her hungry eyes.

  I want to satisfy every need that's crackling through the air between us. The intensity is both welcome, and hard to bear. Unable to attend to the rising tension between us right now, I'm left with a sense of unfulfilled duty, coupled with extreme desire.

  The feeling grows more excruciating as the evening wears on. Every time our eyes meet, the heated gaze sends one, or both of us, into a guilty blush as Ryan's casual chatter reminds us of the need to set those feelings aside for later.

  Mundane kitchen tasks become a million times more, and less, interesting all at the same time when you're secretly trying to flirt with someone and still do them. While prepping vegetables for cooking has definitely become more enjoyable when I'm doing it for the people I love, it is the last thing I want to be doing when Stace's ass is swaying in the air while she's bent over the table coloring with Ryan.

  She looks over her shoulder at my muttered curses and eyes the thumb in my mouth. I don't think I've ever cut myself peeling a fucking potato before, but it's so damn hard to keep my eyes on the job.

  Frowning, she climbs off her chair and saunters over to me. She pulls the thumb from my mouth and inspects it. A little blood gathers at the tiny nick and she puts it back into my mouth.

  "You need some help?"

  I shake my head. "Just need to keep my eyes on the job."

  Her fine eyebrows sink below the frames of her glasses in a frown of confusion. "What were you looking at?"

  My eyes trail down her body, lingering at each curve. The erection that'd finally been dislodged by a dose of minor physical pain, is already on its way back.

  "Oh," she whispers quietly as her cheeks become rosy.

  Shrugging, I remove my thumb from my mouth, cast another aching glance over her and run a hand down my face.

  Her eyes run over my body and a devilish smile tugs at the corner of her gorgeous mouth. Leaning in, she flicks my lips with her tongue and withdraws again. My dick strains against his confines and Stace gives me a cheeky wink as she resettles herself at the kitchen table; ass still firmly in the air. Maybe more so. Damn it.

  With clenched jaw, I return to my dinner preparation, but can't keep from checking her out every five seconds. She knows it now too and is teasing me something wicked. The tilt of her pelvis changes whenever I'm looking, as if inviting me in, and I want to sink into her so badly it hurts.

  I turn back to the kitchen counter, gripping the edge a moment before forcing myself to get on with dinner. The only way it'll get made, is if I flat out refuse to look at her. Stretching my neck left and right, I take a deep breath and bury my sexual hunger in order to focus solely on the food.

  That's when the games begin.

  Something clatters to the floor drawing my attention.

  "Oops," Stacey utters, giving me a seductive smile as she bends over to retrieve it. Her sexy denim cut-offs rise slightly as she flaunts her ass in the air again. Hips swaying and thighs flexing, she draws me in. Even her bare feet, grubby around the edges because she's been wearing flip-flops, appeal to me. I want to fuck her dirty, then scrub her clean and do it again. Fuck.

  She's good.

  I am losing this game. I don't even know what the rules are - though doing it in front of the five year old is clearly not allowed. Maybe I could touch her just a little. She always responds to that so well. I'll just have to do it without Ry noticing.

  Wiping my hands down my thighs, I roll closer and run my hand up her leg, catching her as she rises with a gasp. Pulling her in to rest on my knee, I knock the color pencil from her hand again.

  "You want me to get that, butterfingers?"

  Keeping my hands out of view below the table, I trail my fingers down her inner leg as I reach for the pencil.

  Yelping, Stace pulls her knee up. Hard. Into my face.

  Rearing back, I cover my nose with my hands as I swear loudly. And then apologize loudly - to Ryan, for swearing.

  Meanwhile Stace has jumped off my lap and is yanking my arm, trying to see beneath my hands.

  "I'm fine," I assure her in a muffled voice through my fingers. "I didn't hear a crack. You've brought tears to my eyes, but I don't think you broke me."

  Lifting my face, I meet her eyes for a moment. For a good three seconds, we just look at each other. She stops tugging on my arm, but her hand stays right on my wrist and I know she must be feeling my pulse racing beneath her fingers, but I have no idea what she's thinking.

  And then she laughs.

  She laughs, and she laughs, and has to grab her seat and sit down to keep from falling as she doubles over, clutching her stomach.

  I look to Ry.

  He shrugs.

  Lowering my hands from my face, I wait.

  Eventually, gasping for breath, she wipes her eyes, adjusts her glasses and looks over at me.

  Instantly the amusement leaves her face and she jumps to her feet. Seconds later, she's sitting in my lap applying a cold cloth to my face.

  "I'm so sorry," she whispers, sweeping my hair away from my brow. "I've hit it hard enough to cause some swelling. There's no bleeding though," she says, frowning as she shifts her cloth. "Not much bleeding," she corrects, dabbing at me gently, but firmly before asking Ry to get some frozen peas from the freezer.

  "Can you breathe through it okay?" she asks, peaking under her cloth before meeting my eyes. "You shouldn't try to blow it any time soon. You might start a real bleed. I want you to know, I didn't do it on purpose; I'm just a little ticklish. I'm sorry I was laughing. I don't know why I would do that. Or why I couldn't stop. I may have been possessed. Do you think maybe I am going loopy or something? You-"

  I rest my hand over hers. "It's fine. Really. A little ticklish?"

  Ry giggles, and I shoot him a funny look. "You laughing at my funny voice kiddo?" I say, exaggerating my strange, blocked-nose tones.

  "You sound like a Muppet," he says, laughing again.

  "I feel like a Muppet." Moving Stace's hand away, I run my fingers over my nose. "I probably look like a big-nose Muppet too, huh?"

  "Not too big," Stace says with a smile as she leans in and kisses it softly. "But keep the peas on it for a bit," she adds, wrapping them in a dishtowel and helping me position the wad on my face. "I'll take dinner from here. Are you really okay? Do you need some pain relief?" Her fingers lightly brush my cheek as she asks and her other hand is now wrapped around the base of my neck with those fingers toying with the ends of my messy hair.

  Taking in her loving eyes and
gentle touch, I smile. Enclosing my hand over her fingers, I tilt my head to kiss her hand - which isn't very romantic when you have to lift a bag of frozen peas to obtain access, but that doesn't matter to Stace.

  Her eyes soften and dart away, so I capture her chin and direct her face back to mine.

  "I am so much better than okay. Thank you."

  "Thank you," she whispers, almost shyly. Wetting her lips, she appraises my face with her eyes and then, appearing somewhat disappointed, she kisses my forehead. "I hope it feels better soon."

  As soon as she says it, there is a very subtle shift in her body and all of a sudden, I've forgotten my nose, because my dick is back in motion. My eyes must have widened in surprise, because she gives me one of her sexy-as-hell smiles that lets me know she knows exactly what she's doing.

  "I honestly can't even feel it anymore," I utter as she shifts slowly and carefully in my lap, giving me some awesome friction. Swallowing hard, I don't take my eyes off hers as she slides off me. One minute I'm kneed in the nose and next minute, I'm right back where I started - a sexually frustrated, walking boner. Well, not walking, but rolling boner doesn't sound right.

  "So," Stace says as she turns towards the kitchen counter and begins re-organizing my previous efforts. "How hungry are you?"

  "Starving," I say before clearing the lust from my voice. It comes out husky and hungry.

  Stace's posture changes, making her curves even more pronounced. She glances over her shoulder at me and I can tell that my tone has hit her square between the legs as her thighs cinch together.

  Lowering the bag of peas, I smile innocently and give her a wink just as she'd done to me when she'd been teasing me earlier.

  Even my smile seems to be having some sort of erotic effect on her, and as she turns back to put the salad together, she takes a visible breath and sets her shoulders in a resistant stance.

  It only serves to intrigue me further, as if she's challenging me to break down her defenses now that she's steeled herself against my attempts to seduce her. I just want to move in behind her, strip her down and kiss every silky inch of her beautiful skin as I run my hands over her. I glance at Ry happily coloring at the table and know that I can't do a thing that I want to. It's fucking torturous.

  Suffering without end.

  Dinner drags by so slowly, I begin to suspect that time has actually stopped.

  Finishing my meal in a matter of eager seconds, I'm forced to endure the lengthy process of politely waiting for the others. Ry plays with his food between mouthfuls, talking about goodness-knows-what. I can't hear a word he's saying over the blood pumping in my ears. And my dick. I'm just one pulsating mass at this stage, because Stace is making eyes at me with every forkful she takes to her mouth.

  All I can do is watch as she wraps her shining lips around each mouthful, devouring it with a slow pleasure as her eyes make a meal of me. She seems to be enjoying this obvious power over me, but she's also not immune to her own tease.

  Every so often she shifts restlessly in her seat, glances at Ry, the clock, even the ceiling. At one stage she closes her eyes altogether as if needing to collect herself.

  When Ry finally goes to sleep, this shit is going to explode. Probably within seconds.

  "I'm going to run the bath," I say, excusing myself from the table.

  My evening has now become a quest. I must achieve certain tasks before I can claim my reward, and I want those tasks completed as efficiently as possible.

  Task one: Get the hell away from Stacey's steamy gaze before I explode ahead of schedule.

  Task two: Get Ry to bed as quickly and smoothly as possible so I can bang his mom.

  Task Three: Work out how to do two without feeling like a complete douchebag.

  Task Four: Work out how to do it every night until the end of time.

  Letting the bathwater run, I head for my room to message Damon and organize an appropriate toolkit for the challenge.

  WHEN STACE DECIDES she wants the bath too, I read Ryan his bedtime stories which are a great distraction from thinking about how naked and soapy his mom might be. Testing a theory, I keep my voice as monotonous and rhythmic as possible to see if it will send Ry off to sleep. It totally works, because he's exhausted from all his hard work on the skateboard today.

  Pulling his covers up, I sweep his hair back from his face and just watch him a moment, making sure he's asleep.

  "Night, bud," I whisper, switching of the lamp before making a stealthy exit and closing the door softly.

  I make my way back to the living room and glance around for something else to tidy, but I've already done it all. Cleaning was my distraction during Ry's bath. The place is immaculate.

  Running a hand through my hair, I exhale roughly. All this anticipation has my stomach doing back flips.

  Moving slowly through the space, I straighten the blanket on the couch and check that the volume of the music isn't too loud. I light the candles, pull the flowers into my lap, pat down my pockets and find the corkscrew, only to toss it aside when I realize the wine Damon dropped at my door has a screw cap. I pour two glasses of red, nearly spilling the second when I hear Stace clear her throat behind me.

  Setting the bottle down, I slowly turn to meet her amused expression as she playfully swings the tie of her bathrobe. Her wet hair has been braided loosely to one side and I can smell her berry-scented shampoo combined with the soap on her skin. It's intoxicating.

  "You got Ry to sleep already," she says, unable to hide her smile.

  I nod. I can't think of much beyond how soft her skin must feel after her bath. My fingers tighten on my arm rests, as if to restrain themselves from grabbing her immediately.

  "His room is quite a ways down the hall," she says.

  Again, I nod, noticing for the first time that the door to the hall has been closed behind her. She looks about the room, taking in the candles and soft music. Her eyes return to me and I swallow hard.

  "Are you trying to seduce me?" she asks, dropping the robe.

  My eyes travel over the short, black, lacy number she's wearing. I can see her nipples through it. And more, I note as my eyes dip lower.

  "I might ask you the same question," I reply hoarsely as I wheel towards her.

  Her fingers trace down one strap and along the lace edging of her negligee as it rises over the swell of her breast. "The answer is yes," she whispers as I stop in front of her.

  Several moments of electrical heat pass between us and as soon as I toss the flowers over my shoulder, she's taken their place in my lap and her lips are on mine, meeting me at every lick and moan.

  Pulling out my armrests to give her more room, I toss them aside and grab her bare ass to bring her closer. Working with me to do the same, Stace grinds against my erection as she tugs on my ear with her teeth and unbuttons my shirt, spreading it wide.

  "I want to be inside you so fucking bad. Waiting this long has been so damn hard."

  "You're so damn hard," she breathes, reaching between us and wrapping her hand around my cock to pump it as she rubs against it.

  "Shit, Stace. You're really pushing me."

  "Mmm. Push me back. I'm so damn wet I'll need another bath."

  "You got it, babe." Hooking my arms under her legs, I lift her up to straddle my face, tossing her legs over my shoulders before supporting her back as I dive into her. Groaning as I lap up her juices and suck her clit into my mouth, I revel in her noises and movements as she tries to fight me at the same time as chasing her pleasure.

  "Mm, wait. I want you in me when I come," she begs. "I want it so bad."

  I can't deny that I want that too. I want the waiting to be over. Lowering her slowly, I kiss every part of her that brushes past my lips, including those hard little nipples trying to hide behind the lace. Taking one between my teeth, I tease it with my tongue through the fabric and Stace's head falls back with a whimper as she rubs against me.

  "No more," she utters, pulling my head back by my hair a
nd taking my mouth with her own as her hands move between us to unbutton my fly. My dick springs forth and she's on it in seconds, taking my breath away as she groans into my mouth.

  She feels so fucking good and if her noises of relief are anything to go by, I can only assume she agrees. Moving herself slowly up and down my shaft as if savoring the sensation, she soon winds her fingers into my hair and starts really moving. That's when I know I'm done. Any second, I'm going to blast her full of... fuck!

  "Stace!" Grabbing her hips, I pin her down to keep her as still as possible while I try to catch my breath and control myself. "Condom," I rasp. "The condom's still in my pocket!"

  Stace stops resisting and her eyes come to rest on mine; serious. Breathing a sigh of relief as I ease back from my impending climax, I loosen my grip on her hips.

  I shake my head. "Sorry. I shouldn't have let us get carried away. I've let the team down."

  Frowning, Stace adjusts her position, causing us both to moan. "I'm a responsible member of this team too," she says, waiting until my eyes open before she continues.

  "Though possibly, I could have communicated the general direction of my plan before this moment," she says, swirling her hips and drawing me deeper inside. My hands tighten on her ass.

  "What plan?"

  "I may have done something unethical and sneaky," she admits quietly, leaning back and running her fingers through my chest hair.

  "Oh shit. What did you steal now? Or are you planning on stealing my sperm?" I ask, getting more confused. "I'd probably want to know what you'd do with it. I mean, I'd be fine if you wanted my babies, but I don't want anyone else having them. And if you were having them, I'd want to know about it, so sneaky stuff just isn't cool with me when it comes to sperm. Wouldn't that be easier to steal if it were all contained in a condom doggie-bag anyway?"

  "Okay, shut up. I'm not trying to steal your fucking sperm, you weirdo."

  My face must have registered some injury to my ego, because she softens and runs a hand over my hair. "Although, if I were going to steal anyone's sperm, yours would be top of my list," she says with a cute smile. "And maybe one day you might let me make your babies, but I have a contraceptive IUD, so that day isn't today."