Page 20 of Sinful in Scrubs

Her body was so soft as I slid my hands over her shoulders and down her back, pressing her tighter against my chest. I wasn’t capable of thought, only reaction, when she gave the slightest jump and tightened her arms around my neck. She wrapped her legs around my hips, and I supported her, scooping my hands under her perfectly round ass.

I staggered back until I hit a stack of folded something, towels or scrubs.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” I somehow managed a moment of clarity as I came up for air.

“Shut up and kiss me more,” Emma demanded. Her grip on my neck was firm as she dragged herself back up against my mouth.

I didn’t need to be told twice. Not that I could exactly talk. My mouth was occupied with hers. She tasted sweet and salty. It wasn’t until I began kissing her face, her cheeks, the curve of her jaw, that I realized the saltiness came from her tears.

I leaned back against whatever it was as it seemed to support my weight just fine. I supported her with one hand while I left the other snake up her back until I could thread my fingers into the mess of her silky, cool hair. I hadn’t tasted a woman in several very long years. I followed her lead and continued with the action at hand.

Clarity didn’t return to my brain until my fingers intrinsically unfastened the hooks on her bra. I had no recollection of making that decision. It simply happened. I shifted so that I could slip my hand between us, and I cupped her breast. Her nipple was pearled and tickled the palm of my hand.

What the hell was I doing?

I pulled my hand away as if I got burned. I broke the kiss and eased Emma down, making sure to re-clip her bra.

“What?” She whined.

“This isn’t right,” I said. “We shouldn’t do this.”

“Don’t you want me?” She leaned against me like a languid cat.

“You know I do.” There was no way she missed the press of my erection against her body, even through our clothes. “But someone could walk in.”

“You’re right.” She turned and picked up something from the floor.

We had knocked a pile of fresh scrubs off the shelves. She pulled a clean top on and then turned to me. Her pointer finger extended and demanded my attention, and her tone was scolding. “Not one word. Follow me.”

I did as she commanded. She opened a door I hadn’t been through before and flipped the lights on to a small room. It was the size of a large closet, but it had a bed of sorts. It was more of a cot. I recognized the room immediately. I may not have been in this one, but I knew a crash room for young doctors in their residency when I saw one.

She stepped around me and pushed the door closed. I did not miss the click-slide of the lock.

“Isn’t someone going to need this?” I asked.

“Yes, we do, and we are going to use it.” She spoke with such determination, I didn’t think I should argue with her. Besides, my balls were compressing and getting bluer by the minute. I was physically desperate for her body in a way I hadn’t been for many years.

I groaned low in my throat when she whipped the scrubs top off and she was back in her bra. My gaze devoured her as she reached behind and snicked the latches before pulling her bra off. Her breasts were perfect, dainty, pert, perfect mounds that I needed to taste.

I reached out for her.

“Not so fast. Your turn.” She began tugging my top from the waistband of my pants.

I grabbed the fabric of my top and the white T-shirt I wore under it. In a singular motion, I pulled both shirts off over my head. My chest lifted and fell as I took in heavy breaths.

“Oh, damn,” Emma said appreciatively. She stepped in close and slid her fingers into the hair on my chest. “It’s so thick and soft.”

I chuckled. “What did you expect?”

She didn’t take her eyes from my pecs. “I knew you were well-muscled and had that tattoo. I guess I didn’t expect chest hair of this nature, but this is like some super bonus.” She traced the edges of my tattoo as it was covered by hair and continued to play with my chest hair, and then, finding a nipple, ran her finger in a circle around it, teasing me.

I grabbed her wrist as I struggled to breathe. The physical play and closeness had my body on the verge.

She lifted her chin and our eyes locked. “I guess I thought you would be skin and muscle, you know, like a body builder. Maybe I expected the hair on your chest to be white like your head. But it’s so dark.”

I ran my hand over my head. “This all used to be black too. Now you’re just trying to make me feel old.”

She squirmed her hand free and continued to play with my chest. “You are hardly old. And I like the contrast. Is the rest of you covered in thick, dark hair?”

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