The blonde looked at Ben. “What do you mean it didn’t turn out?”
“Oh, it was awful,” Jessica gushed. “They got the wrong size. Can you believe it? Too big. Then had to take it out. Try another one. Still too big. Then there was the infection.”
The girl’s eyes dropped to Ben’s lap. “Oh,” she said weakly.
“She knows a lot about your penis,” the redhead said to Ben.
“She sure seems to,” he agreed, looking directly at Jessica when he finally spoke. “Apparently, she’s spent a lot of time thinking about it.”
Jessica worked on not blushing, but definitely broke eye contact. Which she was sure entertained him.
“She your girlfriend or something?” The woman looked more curious than concerned by the possibility.
“No,” Ben said, still looking at Jessica, the tiniest hint of a smile on one corner of his mouth. “I do believe Jessica is my chaperone.”
The redhead looked confused while the blonde looked disappointed.
“Um, he can’t…?” the blonde asked, looking at Jessica.
Jessica shook her head regretfully. “No. But he’s very open to adopting, so don’t worry, you can still have children.”
“Children?” the blonde choked. She looked at Ben, then back at Jessica. “But we’re not involved. I mean, I just met him. I don’t even know his last name.”
“Oh.” Jessica tried to look sheepish. “I’m sorry. I assumed that you were together.”
“Uh, no.” The blonde scooted away from Ben’s arm.
Jessica tried not to smile. “You’re single, then?”
The blonde nodded hurriedly. “Definitely single.”
“Oh, then maybe you’re the girls they were asking about,” Jessica said thoughtfully.
Both women looked at her. “They?” the redhead asked.
“There are these four guys outside in a truck. They said they were waiting for a couple of girls they’d followed from some country bar.”
“Do you know who they are?” The redhead straightened on her stool.
Jessica shrugged. “Some people outside were talking about them. I guess the guy in the backseat behind the driver is in the new Matt Damon movie that’s shooting here.” She was reaching, but remembered reading something in the paper about the star being in town for a few days this month.
The blonde perked up. “Who’s he with?”
“All I know is that the driver is loaded. I mean, insane amounts of money.” Jessica gave a dramatic eye roll. “Probably a producer or something. And the guy in the backseat with the icepack on his eye is a stuntman in the movie. He’s supposedly huge—in all the good ways, if you know what I mean.”
The girls definitely seemed to know what she meant.
“What about the fourth guy?” the redhead asked.
“The one in the front passenger seat is gay,” Jessica said apologetically. One of the girls would have to go one on one. “But three out of four ain’t bad, right?”
Jessica had never seen a quicker, or more contrived exit in her life.
Ben watched the girls as they left, then he drained the rest of his beer and met Jessica’s eyes.
“Who’s the gay guy?”
“Sam.”
Ben’s mouth curved up. “Sam doesn’t deserve some action?”
Jessica settled back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Knowing Sam, he’ll somehow convince the girls that they’ve always want to do a gay guy.”
Ben smiled outright then and Jessica had to take a deep breath. He was so good-looking, and when he smiled she almost couldn’t keep from climbing up on his lap and kissing him senseless.
“And of course you had to scare them off with a dysfunctional penis story,” he said, as if they were talking about the weather.
She smiled and lifted a shoulder. “First thing that came to mind.”
“My penis is the first thing that came to mind?”
To hide the hot, fast blush she felt stain her cheeks, she ducked her head to dig in the huge purse she’d carted in with her. “Don’t forget the dysfunctional part,” she muttered.
“Jessica,” he said. He waited until she looked at him. Then said, “Let me take this opportunity to assure you that my penis is in no way dysfunctional.”
She resisted the urge to look at the topic of conversation. She had no doubt that Ben’s was functional in all of the ways penises were supposed to be. And yes, it was one of the first things that came to mind. So what? Why did that have to mean anything? It was a just body part. All men had them. She could have just as easily said something about his eyes.
Sure.
“Good news, Ben,” she said, changing the subject and setting out her supplies.
On the table in front of Ben she put a bottle of water, two white capsules, four orange tablets, a banana, a bottle of Gatorade and a box of condoms.
She paused and looked at the box of condoms for a moment. So much for changing the subject.
“I guess we took care of the need for these.” She picked the condoms up, prepared to drop them back into her purse.
“Oh, keep ’em close,” Ben said.
Her head snapped up, but he sat causally, turning the empty beer mug slowly with one hand, one ankle crossed over the other knee, watching her as if he was testing her. Jessica decided to pretend she hadn’t heard him. Or at least that she didn’t know what he meant—or what she wanted him to mean. Or at least that she didn’t care.
She dropped the box into her purse. “The good news is,” she went on, twisting open the cap on the bottle of water. “I’m here to keep you from wrapping your car around a pole, getting a drunk driving citation, losing all your savings at a game…” she glanced over at the pool table, then back at Ben, “…that you obviously suck at, and from waking up in the morning with a sexually transmitted disease.”
He didn’t even blink.
“These are vitamin B tablets,” she said, indicating the white tablets lying between them. “Especially good for hangovers.” She’d done a lot of studying on the ways to reduce and treat hangovers and had tried most of them herself long before she’d even met Ben.
He didn’t say anything.
She held out the bottle of water to go with the capsules he was ignoring. Water was the key to treating hangovers. She was sure Ben knew that.
He ignored the bottle.
She narrowed her eyes. “I assume that means you’ll be very cooperative and pleasant since I’m doing you such a big favor.”
Chapter Two
Ben couldn’t believe that Sam had sent his sister. The bastard.
Just when Ben thought Sam Bradford was too laid back, too concerned with having a good time, too self-centered to notice one of his buddies lusting after his older sister, the jerk sent her in to the bar dressed like she knew how to use all those delicious parts God had given her.
But Ben knew better. Jessica Bradford was a lot of things: well-respected, dependable, bossy, intelligent, compassionate, fiery and highly moraled. She was not, however, any of the things Ben wanted tonight. Like horny.
The real problem was that two months ago Jessica had bent over during a trauma in the ER, and he couldn’t forget the glimpse of red lace he’d seen through the thin material of her pale pink scrub pants.
The petite woman the ER staff affectionately called “the little general” wore bright frickin’ red thongs.
Sam was a manipulative SOB. No man could resist Jessica in this dress, least of all the guy who could get hard in the middle of a trauma looking at her in hospital scrubs. But Sam was also smart. He knew Ben wouldn’t turn Jessica down, even when she was trying to do exactly what Sam and the guys had been failing at all night.
Jessica was smart, too, and seemed pretty smug right now. She sipped politely from the water bottle she’d brought and waited for Ben to respond.
The woman had brought him ibuprofen, a banana and Gatorade, for God’s sake. She’d managed to lecture him without even using
an impatient tone of voice. It didn’t take too many minutes around Jessica in the ER to know she liked to have things her way.
She obviously thought she was here because it was the noble thing to do—saving him from himself or some self-righteous crap like that—and Jessica definitely struck him as the type that stepped up for noble causes.
Well, she was going to enjoy this one. He’d make sure of it.
He’d wanted her for a long time. Before tonight, he’d liked what he knew about her and wanted to know more, but he couldn’t do anything about what he wanted to do to her. When he was at work he wasn’t filing tax claims, or harvesting corn, or teaching algebra or asking if people wanted to Super Size things. He was saving lives. He simply couldn’t—wouldn’t—be distracted by a nice body and some sexy underwear when he was supposed to be putting people back together.
Of course, that was before he quit putting people back together a few hours ago.
Now he could pretty much do whatever the hell he wanted.
He came off his stool and rounded the table. He grasped the edges of Jessica’s seat in both hands and turned her to face him, then moved in until his belt buckle touched her knee. “So, what do you want in exchange for this huge favor you’re doing for me?”
She didn’t pull back or even stiffen in response to his sudden nearness, and he was inordinately pleased, but she did look mildly surprised. He could see her lips fall open slightly as she pulled in a long breath.
He’d never dared test if the chemistry he felt was reciprocal. He and Jessica were colleagues in a stressful environment that required concentration, quick thinking and skills that were practically reflexes. The last thing he needed was the distraction of trying to get a bullet away from a spinal cord or patching a bleed in a major artery while his girlfriend stood across the table from him fuming about their latest argument.
“I get the satisfaction of knowing that you’re safely home,” Jessica finally said.
They needed to be very clear on a few important points. “Is Sam paying you?”
She looked offended by the suggestion. “Of course not.”
“Do you feel sorry for me, Jessica?”
She snorted. Actually snorted. “No, Ben. I do not feel sorry for you.”
He moved closer, a centimeter at best, but enough to fill more of the air around him with her scent and body heat. Her eyes widened a fraction and if he hadn’t been watching for it—or for any reaction at all—he would have missed it.
“Are you worried about me?”
She wet her lips before answering and Ben thought about just kissing her and finding out if her response to him that morning had been a product of shock or true attraction.
“Sam’s worried about you,” she said.
Her voice sounded breathy, if he wasn’t mistaken. He grinned and crowded closer, propping an elbow on the table beside her hand. Still she didn’t move. But her breathing got faster.
“I don’t give a damn how Sam feels.” He finally gave in to the desire and opportunity to touch her. He lifted his hand and drew the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. “But I’d love to know how you feel.”
Up against him. Naked. On a bed.
Or a pool table, he thought, aware of the closest horizontal surface.
Jessica’s lips fell open under his touch and Ben felt the jolt of satisfaction go through him. He thought it was noteworthy that the conservative, always-in-charge, always-knew-what-she-was-doing ER nurse—who always smelled like cotton candy—was suddenly looking flustered. He wondered if it was her response to him that surprised her or his response to her.
It was very likely that she’d had no idea that he was sexually aware of her before this. He was good at a lot of things, and focusing on his job, in spite of distractions like beeping monitors, distraught family members and sexy co-workers, was one of them.
In truth, he’d been attracted since day one. He’d watched Jessica run the ER staff like a drill sergeant, do the dirtiest, hardest jobs herself, then later cry with the mother of a patient after he delivered the news that the woman’s son would live.
But then there was the day he’d seen her bend over to get more towels. He’d seen the cherry red edge of her thong and just like that, in the midst of trying to clamp off a torn pyloric valve, he’d gotten hard.
For several seconds all he could do was wonder how many other colors she had in her underwear drawer.
It was those several seconds that concerned him. Several seconds in the ER could be life or death.
Now, however, there was no table—or critical patient—between them. No hospital rules. No bad consequences to him touching her the way he’d been aching to for six months.
He leaned in. “How do you feel?”
“I feel like…” She swallowed. “I feel like helping you.”
“Well,” he drawled, his thumb trailing off her lip to her jaw. “Let me give you a short list of ways you can help me tonight.”
She swallowed again, harder this time. “Is getting you some good carbohydrates and strong black coffee on that list?” she asked.
Her smile made him want to pull her up against him and show her number one on that list right here and now.
“Maybe with breakfast.”
He saw in her eyes that she knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Ben, I came to drive you home. Period.” She sighed. “I’m just the taxi service.”
He took her hips in his hands and pulled her off the stool and up against him. Then he turned her until her shoulder blades pressed against the table, making sure she felt his erection…and making sure he felt her.
“If you’re just the taxi service, why did you wear this dress?”
“Sam…” She had to stop and clear her throat. “Sam thought it would get your attention.”
His hand caressed her hip. “Sam is a very good friend.”
Ben leaned in to kiss her, intending to take her mouth and not let her up for air until she was ready to give him everything—at least twice. It was time he did something about this crazy obsession with Jessica.
He saw Jessica’s eyes close, her deep intake of air, but missed seeing her hands come up to his chest. He felt the pressure of her pushing against him, though.
“Ben.”
He pulled back.
“How about you sober up first, and then we’ll talk?” Jessica asked.
“I don’t want to talk.”
She opened her eyes and looked…hesitant. Which was a weird look for Jessica. Ben had never seen her anything but confident and steady. It was also clear that she wasn’t used to feeling hesitant.
“I want to get naked. With you. Right now.”
“In total silence?” she asked, her smile a bit wobbly.
“I’ll let you talk dirty,” he said with a slow grin.
She crossed her arms between them, difficult as it was in the nearly non-existent space. “I am not talking dirty to you, Dr. Torres.”
She sounded convinced…almost.
“If you want to stick to moans and groans of pleasure, I’m fine with that.”
She pulled in a long breath. “You’re drunk.”
He leaned back to look at her. “Maybe.”
“That’s why you’re acting like this.”
“Like I want to take you to bed?” He chuckled softly and pressed closer. “I can honestly tell you that the beer has nothing to do with this.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Little hard to believe.”
“Why?”
“Gambling, fighting with your best friends…”
He felt the lecture coming on. He’d been chewed out today by his boss and his friends. He was not going to listen to it from her too. All he wanted to hear from Miss Jessica was her begging him to make her come.
Ben moved in quickly, captured her chin in his hand, tipped her face up and covered her mouth with his.
The kiss was hot and hard and so sweet.
Jessica seemed to melt ins
tantly. She pressed closer, her hands sliding up to his shoulders and then behind his head. Ben increased the pressure, slanting his head slightly, encouraging her to open her lips and let him truly taste her.
She was his new favorite flavor. He lessened the pressure, wanting to savor her, but she pressed closer, moaning in protest, digging her fingers into his hair.
Well, okay. If she insisted.
He bent his knees, pulled her up against him and wrapped his arms around her, one hand in the middle of her back, the other cupping her left buttock. He pressed her against his throbbing shaft and ground into her, eliciting another moan, though this one was hardly one of protest.
The heat continued to build and Ben felt frustration building with it. Frustration with the layers of clothing between them, frustration with the lack of good leverage against the table, frustration with the feeling that kissing Jessica was the best thing he’d felt in practically forever, and very possibly the stupidest thing he’d ever done. This was only kissing and he never wanted to stop. How would making love to her be?
Suddenly, Jessica pulled back, sucked air into her lungs in a large gulp and withdrew her hands like he was a hot stove.
“We have to stop.”
Ben leaned in and kissed her neck just behind her ear, and felt a tremble go through her. She definitely didn’t push him away.
“You taste even better than I imagined,” he said in her ear.
She jerked in surprise. “You’ve imagined it?”
“Often and in great detail.”
She looked stunned. “But you never even flirted…”
“Generally, when we’re together, there are people losing blood from critical places. When would I have flirted?”
She frowned and nodded. “I know. But you never asked me out. I never caught you looking at me…” she frowned deeper, “at all. Not to mention looking at me unprofessionally.”
“You want men to look at you unprofessionally?”
“No. Just you.” It was instantly clear that she regretted letting that slip.
He grinned. Now they were getting somewhere. “Oh, I promise you that I’ve been looking. And imagining. Why don’t you let me show you all the things I’ve come up with?” He rubbed his palm in a firm circle on her hip.
Just Right: The Bradfords, Book 1 Page 3
