Jetson (Steel Cobras MC #4)

by Evie Monroe

  Instead, I ran the washcloth under the stream of water and knelt in front of him, praying for strength at the same time I prayed for his arms around me.

  He was right. The stream of the water wasn’t touching him, but as I settled in front of him, I felt the gentle drops pelting my back, slicking my top to my body, then coursing down my ribcage. It fell in my hair and dripped down my face and soon I was drenched. Now, his cock was almost at eye level.

  I urged myself to think as the nurses did. Surely they had good-looking patients they had to tend to from time to time and didn’t get aroused by it. Professional. Be professional.

  That intention lasted about as long as it took to get the washcloth lathered up. The second I lifted his foot and started to touch his warm skin, lightly smattered with blond hair, I lost it.

  “You’re good at this,” he said in a low, sexy grumble.

  “No, I’m not,” I said, reaching under my collar and scratching viciously. The top was sticking uncomfortably, making me itch, and my wet pants clung like bricks.

  The more I scratched, the further the itch traveled, down to my breasts and my stomach. A second later, it was everywhere, excruciating little prickles all over my skin. I wanted to jump around and rub myself on a tree like a bear.

  Without the vodka, I would’ve soldiered through, as there would’ve been no other option. But now, I stood up and grabbed my top and pulled it over my head. “Don’t read anything into this.”

  He gave me an amused smile.

  “It’s itching like crazy,” I said, pulling off my tight pants next. I glared at his heavy gaze on mine. He wasn’t pinning me with his eyes now, he was staring right at my chest. I told myself my sports bra and boy shorts weren’t a big deal—I had bikinis smaller than this. But my nipples were at full attention, and when he licked his lips, I knew he noticed.

  I tried to focus on the task at hand. I ran the washcloth up his perfectly formed calves, to his strong thighs in a very hard-handed, quick way. If I’d gone slow and taken my time, I would’ve gotten even more aroused. And I couldn’t allow that to happen.

  But deep down, I knew it would. I wanted it.

  I soaped up his legs, then wrung out the washcloth again and rubbed the soap off his skin, working my way up his knees, then to his thighs. I didn’t go any further, didn’t venture between his legs. As drunk as I was, as fuzzy as my head was, I still retained some sense of decorum. When I finished, it was time to work north.

  My eyes flickered to his cock. It was so big and beautiful, lying up against his bandage. And he was hard. For me.

  Letting out a ragged breath, I handed him the washcloth. “You can do that. But gently. Don’t get the bandage wet.”

  A corner of his mouth quirked up. “You sure?” He didn’t wait for a response. He grabbed the cloth, squeezed a drop of soap onto it, lathered, and started to wash himself.

  “Carefully,” I said, looking away. “Very careful. Don’t twist and turn your torso. I don’t have a lot of supplies downstairs.”

  “Aye, aye,” he said with a mock salute, continuing to run the cloth between his legs, moving his junk around in a way that made me wish I’d taken it upon myself to do the whole job. I wanted to touch him. Feel him.

  He finished his cock and balls, then washed his chest, his face, his underarms, all the while, his eyes never leaving mine. I stood there, in the stream of hot water, knowing even my flimsy bra and panties were soaked, all but transparent now, and he was getting the full show. As I did, I wondered what the hell had driven us to this point. I felt like I was on a cliff, about to take a monumental leap.

  He handed me the washcloth,. I rinsed it out for him, and he ran it over his body. Then he handed it back to me.

  “You done?” I said, breaking from the trance he’d put me under.

  He shook his head and slipped off the bench a little, turning to the side. He hitched a thumb behind him. “Do my back?”

  Gladly. I wet the cloth, lathered it up, and started at the back of his neck. I ran the cloth over his sculpted shoulder blades, the defined muscles of his back, down the curve of his spine. He had to have heard my heart beating out of my chest as I did it, making sure I covered every inch of his posterior in foam. I rinsed out the cloth, getting it heavy with water, and then squeezed it out on his back, letting the soapy water rinse free. Then I trailed a finger sinuously down his hot skin, making sure all the soap had rinsed away.

  As I did, he swiveled his head and looked up at me, his eyes hypnotizing me.

  Then before I knew what was happening, he reached a hand around my neck, threading it through my hair, and brought my mouth crashing down to his.

  He was so powerful, I couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to. His mouth claimed mine, licking my lips, priming them, then he slipped his tongue inside. I let out a gasp as I fell like a mass of bones against his naked lap. He caught me, slipping his hand under my ass and kneading it hard, as his other hand pressed my face closer to his.

  I put a hand on each one of his cheeks and kissed the hell out of him, kissed like I didn’t need air. He felt good. His face, his stubble, his nearness. I melted into him. I’d never been kissed like that, so rough and raw, hypnotizing me, making me drunker than any Goose could. From that moment, I never wanted to be kissed any other way again.

  I got so wrapped up in it all that I didn’t feel his hand snaking over my thigh until his fingers slid between my legs. His fingertips stroked my soaked panties. He nudged aside the band and fought his way inside. He hit my clit, and I gasped, spreading my legs to give him better access as I wriggled, wet and wanting, on his thighs.

  He moved me against him and let out a growl, his muscles tightening as he broke the kiss and licked his way down my neck. His erection pressed hard and insistent against the backs of my thighs, and as I reached for it, I instead felt the layers of gauze.

  It snapped me right back to reality.

  I stiffened.

  “Wait,” I murmured, pushing his chest gently. My voice grew louder. “Wait. We can’t.”

  He reached for me. “Oh, yeah, we can.”

  I shook my head. “What am I doing?” I touched his bandage. “Oh, it’s getting all wet. That’s not good.”

  “Fuck it. I don’t give a shit,” he said, taking hold of my elbow and trying to guide me back onto his knees, but I’d already slid off.

  I sat back on the bench next to him and buried my face in my hands. “My God, what am I doing?”

  “What comes naturally,” he said, his voice a breath. “You did it because it’s right. Don’t deny yourself.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t. No, I can’t.” I pushed off the bench and turned off the water. “I think you’re clean now. I’ll go wash your pants and then—”

  He smiled. “You ain’t gonna shampoo my hair?”

  “Shampoo your own hair,” I snapped.

  I now felt stone cold sober. Of course, this was where things were heading. Was I stupid to expect they wouldn’t? I needed to get out of here before I indulged what my body so desperately wanted from him. I tried to skirt around him and grab a towel, but he wrapped an arm around my waist. “You’re too wound up, baby. You need to come.”

  Was he kidding me? Yes, I was definitely turned on, but him touching me was what had gotten me feeling like shit to begin with. “Trust me. That’s the last thing I need from you.”

  I tried to back up, but he held me firm. “What’re you worried about?”

  “I don’t know. My fiancé, maybe?” I gave him a duh look.

  “That man isn’t your fiancé. He’s your warden.”

  I scowled, but it softened right away. Jet was right about that, too. I was with Michael because he was all I knew, and he made me feel safe. But did I love him? “I’m still promised to him. And this is wrong. I don’t do things like this. It’s not fair to him.”

  Jet’s beautiful muscles flexed, and he sat back on the bench, spreading his hands to the sky in surrender. “All right. I won
’t help you. Do it yourself.”

  My eyes widened. He wasn’t saying what I thought he was saying, was he?

  He lifted his semi-erect cock and started to stroke it. “Because looking at you like that, baby, I need to fucking come. You’re hot as fuck. You know how close you had me, just kissing me with that sweet mouth of yours?”

  My eyes went wide, damn near popped out. A part of me was thrilled knowing I’d gotten him that excited, but I shut that down. He started to stroke his cock harder, his eyes scraping over me. My jaw dropped. “No . . . you can’t do that here.”

  “Why not,” he rasped. “I need to. I haven’t come in three days.”

  “Oh. And that’s a world record for you?” I spat out. “Three whole days without sex?”

  He nodded without a hint of irony and motioned me forward. “You gonna join me, or not?”

  He had me on a string. I moved closer, and he put one of his big hands on my waist, tucking the fingers under my soaked panties at the small of my back.

  He licked his lips. “You have perfect tits,” he said, gazing at them with hungry appreciation. “Take your bra off.”

  “No,” I protested.

  His hand, first on my hip, slowly laced around my ass, dragging me closer to him. Now his mouth was close enough to take a bite of my abdomen. “What? Don’t want to do it yourself?” he murmured, and then he did take that bite, but it was more of a taste. He nibbled on the skin above my hipbone as he continued to stroke his cock in long, rhythmic strokes.

  With knees crumbling beneath me, I leaned forward, unable to tear myself away as his other hand wrapped around my ass, dipped into my panties at the small of my back and his fingertips dragged down the crack of my ass. His finger grazed the tiny bud of my ass and I gritted my teeth with need.

  I was too turned on to think anything other than More.

  Gentle pressure and he’d pried my legs apart from behind, all the while pulling on his cock and licking my hipbone, the soft pillow of my abdomen, my navel. The sounds of his slurping and my panting filled the steam-hazy air. He dragged my panties down my thighs with that one hand, as two fingers entered my drenched pussy, no hesitation, from behind.

  “Ungh,” I mumbled, unable to speak actual words, falling over onto him, my elbows on his shoulders as he continued his assault on my pussy. The pad of his thumb grazed my clit, first slow and soft, growing faster and faster and gaining in pressure. My body was a pressure cooker, getting ready to blow. It felt too good, and Jet was right—it was exactly what I needed.

  So I let loose, like a freaking rocket.

  I came so hard I screamed louder than I’d ever screamed before, feeling wanton and hungry and sexy in a way that my buttoned-up lifestyle had never allowed. When Michael and I made love, we did so quietly, slowly. But this was the opposite. I came like a steam train, losing feeling in all my body parts and spiraling off into space.

  “Oh my God,” I said, the powerful aftershocks rippling through me as I looked down and saw him, still stroking on his cock.

  He was smiling in that lazy, sexy way. “Tell me you didn’t need that.”

  Need it? It’d just ended, and I wanted it to happen again. I’d never come so strong like that, feeling my body ripping apart even as everything was coming together.

  I hated admitting when I was wrong, and other people were right. So instead, I dropped to my knees and did what I’d wanted to, from the moment I met him.

  I wrapped my hand around his cock, gave it a few good pumps, and licked on the mushroom head a little bit. Then I sucked it lightly into my mouth. He tasted good, a heady mixture of salt and steam and soap.

  Do you realize what you’re doing? You’re sucking the cock of a man you just met! If that doesn’t scream whore, then I don’t know—

  I quieted that little voice of reason and allowed myself just to feel.

  And the moment his head fell back against the tiled wall and he groaned, “Jesus, girl. That’s good,” I knew that the only mistake I’d made in my life was accepting Michael’s offer of marriage. I’d have to remedy that, soon. But right then, I sucked Jet in for all I was worth and watched his beautiful eyes grow dark with desire.

  For me.

  Chapter Ten

  Jetson

  So it turned out Dr. Benson was full of surprises.

  And I got the feeling that if my sexy surgeon’s fiancé could see her now, he wouldn’t be very pleased.

  Her place was a work in progress, so all we had was a full-sized mattress and now we were tangled together on it, naked.

  We hadn’t done anything other than make out and pet each other like sex-crazed teenagers after the scene in the shower. She told me again and again that she wasn’t that kind of girl, so I humored her. But after the way she sucked cock, she sure as hell seemed like that kind of girl to me.

  I’d gotten up close and personal with a lot of her body, and it was more phenomenal than I’d first thought. I salivated at the possibility of entering her, but other than telling me she wasn’t that kind of girl, she also repeated over and over again that I needed to take it easy to avoid evisceration. Whatever the fuck that was.

  But I noticed she never mentioned that prick fiancé of hers. Not once. She didn’t have to. It wasn’t even like she was having second thoughts. I could tell by the resolve on her face that she’d moved past him.

  When I woke in the morning in her bed with sunlight streaming through the blinds, I realized she wasn’t next to me. Blinking, I lifted my head and saw her crouching, in barely there bra and panties, looking through an open suitcase. Her long hair flowed down her back.

  Jesus, she was beautiful. My morning wood was ready for her.

  But when she gathered her dark hair in one hand and let out a big breath, I saw her frown. “Can’t find anything in this mess!” she sighed, grabbing a skirt and shimmying it over her hips.

  I tried to roll over onto my side but pain screamed through my stomach, pinning me to the mattress. She turned and noticed me wincing.

  “Hold on,” she said to me, disappearing into the bathroom.

  When she came back, she had a glass of water and handed a couple of pills to me. “Vicodin. My own stash. Drink up. Doctor’s orders.” She sat on the edge of the bed.

  I pulled myself to sitting, leaned against the wall and downed them. “So do you give all your patients such good treatment?”

  Her brow knitted. “No. God no. Last night. . .” Her face reddened. “I don’t know what came over me. I don’t act like that ever. Not in my private life and certainly not in my professional life.”

  I knew very well what came over her. She was fucking horny for me. She wouldn’t admit as much, sweet girl like her, but the signs were everywhere. It made me grin. “You gotta go to work?”

  She nodded. “More like, I’ve got to go to my reckoning,” she said, her forehead wrinkling. “I got a voicemail from Michael. Apparently all hell broke loose at the hospital last night.”

  I grinned. “Don’t know nothing about that. You think they might fire you?”

  “Yes. He didn’t say it. He sounded tense. But after what I did? How could they not?”

  I touched her hand, but she pulled it away suddenly. Then she seemed to realize she wasn’t wearing a shirt and practically dove off the bed. She grabbed the first one she could find out of the open suitcase and slipped it on. “Um. Jet . . . what happened last night. I’d had too much to drink, and things got out of hand . . .”

  I didn’t say a word.

  “And you’re right. I’m not going to marry Michael. It’s obvious if I can be so easily swayed like I was last night, that he isn’t the right man for me. But . . . you and me? You’re my patient. I need to keep some kind of distance there. This is malpractice. I might be able to give up Michael, but I can’t jeopardize the career I’ve worked my whole life for . . .”

  I nodded. “All right. No problem.”

  She blinked, seeming surprised I’d caved so easily.

&n
bsp; But I hadn’t exactly caved. She was wary, of course. I got that. But I could also see doubt. She wanted me. I knew that much from the way she licked her lips as her eyes travelled over my body down to my cock. I’d wear her down, just like I did last night. No alcohol needed this time.

  “Okay,” she said unsurely. “I still think you should stay here and rest. Just until this all blows over. I should be back around five.”

  “Sounds good.” I slunk back down on the mattress as she kicked into her shoes, fluffing her hair. Jesus, coming last night had done her a world of good. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked relaxed, more beautiful.

  “Oh. And I know you’re probably hungry so I went out and got donuts and coffee at Winchell’s. They’re downstairs on the center island.”

  So she’d been up a while, then. Bet a good girl like her couldn’t sleep, all that guilt she was harboring from being dragged over to the dark side. “You’re a doll.”

  She grabbed her purse and doctor’s coat, then let out a breath, hesitating at the door. “Well. Then. Goodbye. I’ll see you.”

  “See you.”

  I watched her turn to leave, then stared up at the ceiling. A minute later, the door downstairs clicked shut.

  Holy fucking shit. What a night. That girl was full of surprises. I already couldn’t wait to get her back with me and see what other mysteries she was going to unveil to me.

  When the Vicodin kicked in, I pulled myself up off the mattress and went downstairs, where I found my cell. It had blown up with messages from my brothers, all asking me where I was and if I was okay. I quickly dialed up Nix. He answered right away. “Where the hell are you?”

  “Relax. I’m okay.”

  “You clearly ain’t okay. You turn on the news lately?”

  “No. What’s up?”

  “What’s up?” He let out a laugh. “You kidding me? Switch it on. The latest word is that there was a sniper shooting at the hospital from the parking lot. The police gave chase and now they think there’s a killer on the run. You have anything to do with that?”