Page 9 of Written in the Charts

But when I slid my hand under his sweater and felt the heat of his skin and the corded muscles hiding just out of sight, I felt the guilt grip me again. I pulled back, turning my head away from him. He sank his teeth into my neck again, letting out a growl of desire. He had his hands pushing my shirt up, and all I could think about was getting fired and kicked out of med school. I had worked so hard to get where I was. To throw it all away on a fling would be stupid.

“What?” Evan backed off, but he left his hands under my shirt. I sighed, feeling bad for letting him down.

“I’m feeling guilty.”

“The doctor-patient thing?” He pushed a hair out of my face and kissed me, softly nipping at my lip. I nodded and tried to shimmy away from him against the wall, but he blocked me in. “Gypsy, no one is here. No one will ever know. I’m not going to need treatment forever, and if I do I can always request to see Doc Marshal. Alright?”

Evan kissed me again, pushing his thumbs into my sides and grabbing me as he pulled me away from the wall, lifting my sweater over my head and throwing it to the floor. Again, he kissed me as we made our way into the kitchen. He smiled at me, but there was something cheeky about it. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and pressed it against the ice machine on the front of the refrigerator, then set it on the counter.

“It’s getting warm in here,” he said, taking his own sweater off and tossing it aside.

A grin crossed my face as Evan returned, kissing me, reaching up my back and releasing my bra fastener, then removing my bra. He reached into the cup of ice and placed a cube in his mouth. Pushing me back against the wall, he positioned his knee against my groin and sucked at my nipples, one at a time. He brushed the ice cube across them. The chill did things to my mind and gave me goosebumps. I reached into his slacks and grasped at his cock, stroking it, feeling him swell.

His tongue traced across my body, leaving the ice cube between my breasts, melting and sending chilled water down my body to my belly button. I wanted more and let out a gasp of desire. He moved his knee and reached down the front of my slacks, fingering me as we kissed. I could feel the moisture between my legs growing, the puddle forming as he played. Evan grabbed the front of my pants and pulled them off, leaving my body exposed to the chilly air. It was nothing compared to the icy water that trickled down my belly.

Evan tugged at my panties, so I lifted myself onto the counter, and he pulled them off my feet, then stood and took his slacks off too. I marveled at his rippled abs, not a trace of fat on them, defined and sexy. He had changed alot. This was a man’s body, and not just any man. He had the body of a fucking Greek god.

He stepped back and stroked himself, looking at me before reaching forward for a new ice cube from the cup and tracing the curves of my body with it. He finished by running it from my lips to my pussy, leaving a wet, cold streak. He blew softly, letting the cold chill my skin before taking several more ice cubes from the glass and pressing them against my folds, sinking them into me.

My insides were being chilled, as if someone had just turned on the air conditioning inside me. I felt a shiver shoot up my spine and sat there in shock, not knowing what to expect next.

Next was his dick. He pressed it against me, sliding it through my moisture. The ice hadn’t slowed my arousal, his dick feeling somewhat raw on my tender skin. I winced as he slipped into my body, the contrast of his hot dick meeting the chill of my pussy. I quivered and gasped at how it felt. “Fuck.” I hissed, clenching around him. My nipples were hard, but not as hard as his cock as he fucked me.

He pushed past the friction and into me, pushing into my back wall. I could feel the water running from my body, the melting ice making a mess on the floor, but I didn’t care. In fact, I could hardly make a sound. I hadn’t felt pleasure like this in years. With his cock pushing into me, the contrast in temperature, and the heightened sense of arousal, I couldn’t contain myself. I wanted to come so badly.

“Do it, Maggie,” he said. “Come for me.” His voice grew softer with each word. I could tell he was enjoying it too. His thumb pressed on my clit, and I grabbed his sides, pulling him in deeper. The counter was the perfect height, our bodies aligning like the stars.

The way he worked his thumb, the way his cock felt slamming into my back wall, the ice water pooling under my body—I snapped. Waves of orgasm wracked my body, convulsing me and forcing me to lean over him. I bit down on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around me, and when he released, the heat of his explosion warmed me like a cup of cocoa after being outside in the cold.

He slowed his thrusts, sliding in and out of me a few more times. When his lips returned to mine, they were less aggressive. He kissed me gently. I shivered, still chilled by the icy treat, and grinned against his lips.

“Ice? Really?”

“Are you saying you didn’t like it? You had a thing for food during sex back in the day.” He grinned too, pulling out. The mess was horrible. I felt it draining out of my body and grabbed a hand towel.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I was just surprised.” Evan turned his back as I mopped up the puddle and slid off the counter. He picked up our clothing and held it. I waited a moment, thinking he was going to hand me my clothes to dress, but he just smirked over his shoulder.

“What?” I snickered, tossing the towel at the laundry room. The door was closed and the towel landed on the floor, but I’d deal with that tomorrow.

“Midnight snack?” he asked, picking a banana from the bunch hanging on my banana hook. With a cheeky wink, he walked out of the kitchen and called to me, “Where’s the bedroom?”

I rolled my eyes. It had been so long since we were together and he still knew how to put me at ease and help me get out of my head. “End of the hall, on the right.” Evan vanished, and I reached into the fridge and got the chocolate sauce. If he wanted to have a snack, so did I.

CHAPTERSEVEN

Evan

November is cold in New York State, and this November was no different. A heavy blanket of snow covered the entire base, bringing traffic to a crawl and halting training activities for the day. Twelve inches fell last night, which pushed our PT into the gymnasium, and we were packed in with three other flights, all doing combined calisthenics.

After a rigorous workout, we took a much-needed break and were goofing off near the water coolers. Private Yates had torn his shirt off and stood there using it as a towel to mop the sweat off his forehead. The man sweated more than was humanly possible, though I couldn’t blame him. They had the heat way too high in this building. Even Murphy was sweating, and he never sweated.

“You sweat like a fucking pig,” one of the guys said, jabbing Yates in the ribs.

“Actually, pigs don’t sweat. That’s why they wallow in mud to c-cool off.” Murphy stuttered into the conversation and immediately turned red when the guys rolled their eyes and started giving him a hard time.

“You’re such a nerd, man. How do you know stuff like that?”

“And how do we know it’s even true? You say stuff like that all the time. Weirdo.”

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