Page 23 of Hate To Want You
I let out an embarrassing whimper. “Like what?”
“Why don’t you come here, and I’ll show you.”
I step into the water, gasping slightly at the warmth. It matches the heat building inside of me.
“Good girl,” he rumbles. “I worked up an appetite on that hike. Your pussy is gonna be the perfect snack, and I’m gonna make you scream my name so fucking loud, everyone in this forest will know what I’m doing to you.”
“Max!” I bolt upright in bed, my heart pounding so hard, I swear I can hear it in the dark of my bedroom. My sheets are a mess. I’m damp with sweat. And there’s an ache between my legs so intense, I have no choice but to deal with it.
My fingers slide underneath the waistband of my cotton sleep shorts. The instant I graze across my clit, my hips lift, seeking more. I try to extend it, draw it out, but I’m so turned on — from a dream — that it takes no time at all before I’m moaning, embarrassingly loud, as my orgasm cascades over me.
I pull my hand out and lay there for a minute, panting heavily. Good Lord.
A part of me can’t believe I just got off to a dream where Max called my pussy a perfect snack. How freaking cheesy was that? God only knows why my imagination conjuredthatfor dirty talk.
Then again, I’ve also, apparently, got a little unexpected praise kink inside of me. Because Max calling me a good girl was definitely hot. Who knew two words could make me horny, even while sleeping.
And now I have to get up and go to work with him. Which won’t be awkward at all, I’m sure. Oh, who am I kidding? I know I told Max I would act as if the hot springs never happened, but the truth is, there’s not a chance in hell I’ll forget the sight of him glistening with water and dappled sunshine. His hair slicked back and every inch of him on display.
And I do mean every inch.
Even obscured by water, what I saw was enough to make my panties damp.
Apparently, my subconscious mind is determined to make it even harder for me to remember that I’m not here to cross the line with my boss, I’m here to become the best doctor I can. I’m here to start over and build the life I’ve always wanted.
I wonder what it would take to get him to hate me again. Maybe that would make it easier…
As luck would have it, Max is off-site today at a pediatric trauma medicine conference in Vancouver. Being able to work a shift without worrying about whether he’ll snap at me or — after last night — worrying that I’ll somehow let it slip that I’m having sexy dreams about him is great, and yet, also disconcerting.
I miss him, the grumpy, confusing, sexy man.
I take an overly large bite of my veggie wrap and chew slowly, forcing away those annoying fleeting memories of my dream.
“What’s got you all worked up?” Tina, one of my nurse friends, sits down beside me.
“Nothing,” I mumble around my mouthful.
“Yeah, right,” she says cheerfully, but she doesn’t push. “We totally need to plan a night out soon. There’s so much to catch up on.”
“I’d like that,” I say, smiling gratefully. And it’s the truth, even if my life is so insanely busy right now, getting our schedules to line up will most likely prove impossible.
“Great! Do you have any plans this weekend? Any hot dates?”
I let out a little snort. “God, no.” Then, in the interest of reconnecting with an old friend, I launch into a story about one of the messages I received on the dating app I signed up for. “Did you know guys are sending dick pics instead of greetings? There’s no ‘hi, nice to meet you.’ It’s just, bam. Dick pic.”
In no time, we’re both cackling with laughter, and a couple of my other former colleagues are joining us.
“They can’t be all bad. Come on, let’s find someone for you to go out with this weekend.” Tina wiggles her hand, demanding my phone.
I mean, maybe it’s not the worst idea. A date might give me something to take my mind off my very inappropriate crush on Max.
“Fine, but I get power of veto.”
Ten minutes of laughter and swiping later, we land on one guy who actually shows some promise. A few taps of the keyboard later, and Tina has somehow landed me a date. For tonight.
“Wait, shouldn’t I talk to him first? Over messages or something?”
Tina shrugs. “Why waste time? Meet the guy in person, see if there’s any sparks; if there are, great. If not, move on. Time’s a wasting, babe.”
