Page 20 of Always Heated

Unlike last time where I undressed in the ensuite, Travis tugs my shirt over my head and exchanges it for his. As heunhooks my bra and slips the straps down my arms, I snicker. “Has it been a while since you’ve undressed a woman? It’s a little backward.”

“Nope,” he replies, popping the ‘p.’ “If I see you naked, I’ll want to taste you.” Dropping to one knee, he slips off my shoes and pants, pressing a single kiss to my panties. “I’m going to have so much fun with you when you’re ready.” I step into the sweatpants and he slowly tugs them up my legs. My whole body is warm. I’m always heated around him, and he hasn’t even touched me. He stands, and an adorable dimple pops in his cheek as he smiles down at me. “You look good in my clothes, Cass. Now get your sexy ass into bed.” He playfully smacks my ass, making me yelp. I do as he asks and saunter over to the bed, slipping under the covers.

I’m unable to look away from him undressing in front of me. There’s no show, no teasing, but I watch intently as he strips off his shirt and pants, leaving him in a pair of dark red boxer briefs. He slips on a pair of sweatpants and as he’s about to put on his shirt, I blurt, “Keep it off.” He pauses with his arms in the shirt, about to lift it over his head. “Keep it off,” I quietly repeat, taking a moment to appreciate his hairless chest and the peaks and curves of his abdominal muscles. I’m unable to ignore the beautiful indentation that travels from the top of his hip down to his waistband. Fuck, I want to trace it with my tongue. He’s beautiful.

“My eyes are up here, Cass.”

Shit, fuck!

“Sorry. How is it that I work out every day and have cellulite on my thighs, but you look like you walked out of a firefighter calendar shoot?”

“I like your thighs.” He shrugs and pulls the shirt over his head. “They’ll feel amazing squeezing my cheeks.”

“Squeezing your ch—Travis!”

“Are you practicing screaming my name for when I’m gone and you’re fucking your vibrator?”

“Pfft, I don’t have a vibrator,” I lie, even if he’ll see through it.

“You don’t? Well, I guess I’ll need to buy you one for when I’m at the station.”

I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “You wouldn’t.”

Travis climbs onto the bed, settling between my legs with his hard cock pressed against my now very wet pussy. Bracing himself with a hand on either side of my head, he leans in until our lips are almost brushing and whispers, “I absolutely would.” In an instant, he rolls onto his back and slides under the covers, stretching out his arm and tapping his chest. “Come on. Let the nap time commence.”

cassidy

. . .

I’ve never been so sexually frustrated in my entire life. I’ve had a year long dry spell before, and it didn’t hold a candle to this. Travis has been gone for two, almost three, days. That’s all. Forty-eight measly hours, and I’m like a cat in heat.

After opening the bar and spending the day with Ingrid and the kids—and also taking much needed nap—I’m about to start my shift at the hospital when I have an incoming call from Dani. I help out from time to time at her floral shop; she has migraines that take her out days at a time.

“Hey, Dani,” I greet, sliding my belongings into my locker.

“Hey, I’m sorry to call so late, but do you think you could come by the shop tomorrow?”

“Oh, sure.” I spin the numbers to the combination on my lock. “What time do you need me to work?”

“No, no, I’m good, but there’s something I’d like to talk to you about and it’s better if we do it in person.” If that doesn’t ramp up someone’s anxiety, I don’t know what would.

“Of course, I’ll come by at opening.”

“I’ll see you then,” she sings and hangs up after we say goodbye.

I tuck my phone in my pocket and review the patient charts. I’ve been assigned to the postpartum wing of the hospital for the past few months, and while I love taking care of new moms, I hate having to wake them every few hours to take vitals.

After a quick round, I check in with my friend, Lucy, who is updating her charts. “Hey, Cass, your dinner is here.”

Dinner has been delivered to me since axe throwing. The first night was my favorite burrito from the taqueria, last night was pizza. At first, I thought it was Zack, but I don’t have the balls to text him to confirm it. Hell, it could be Caleb for all I know. “Thanks, Luce.” I peer into the large bag and find a to-go box from my favorite Thai place in Linton. I take the bag into our small kitchenette and pull out drunken noodles, yellow curry, and rice. There’s enough for the four nurses working and I send a quick text to let them know the Thai food in the fridge labeled “Cassidy” is for all of us.

Who the hell is sending me dinner every night?

The next few hours are rinse and repeat. There’s a fussy baby in room six, but it’s only because Mom’s having a rough time with her milk coming in. Ingrid had the same issue when she had her son, and I can’t imagine how hard it must be. The lactation consultant has done everything she can to provide her best tips and tricks, but my patient is showing clear signs of postpartum depression. I call her OBGYN to make sure she stops by in the morning. In the meantime, I assure her that she’s an amazing mom and I’m here for anything she needs.

An hour before my shift ends, her doctor pages me to come to room six. I tuck away my feelings as I step in. “Hey, yourang,” I joke, hoping to keep things light, since my patient is on the verge of tears. Her son, Caleb, is sound asleep, so I tiptoe into the room and shut the door behind me. I’ve shared with her that my brother has the same name and how strong he is, hoping it would help.

“I’m putting in an order for a low-dose SSRI for our patient, would you see that it’s filled today?”

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