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The V-Spot
Wendy S. Marcus
How hot is your night going to get? Take the quiz and find out!1. You're a curvy, cute and practical nurse, ready to unleash your inner naughty nymphette for your 25th birthday. You start with…a. Chocolate cake.b. Champagne. Lots of it.c. A blind date set up by your daring best friend.2. Your guy turns out to be popular (and insanely hot) wrestler Brody "The Bull" Bullock. You…a. Run for the door.b. Admire his hotness, then run for the door.c. Imagine him naked.3. You're meeting Brody at V-Spot, a "Voyeur Motel." What are you wearing?a. A cute sundress with wedge sandalsb. You're not going anywhere without Spanxc. Doesn't matter. Brody is sexy enough that it's all coming off!If you selected all of the above, you're in for the night of your life….
How hot is your night going to get? Take the quiz and find out!
1. You’re a curvy, cute and practical nurse, ready to unleash your inner naughty nymphette for your 25th birthday. You start with…
a. Chocolate cake.
b. Champagne. Lots of it.
c. Meeting the guy you’ve been “dating” online for the past three months.
2. Your guy turns out to be popular (and insanely hot) wrestler Brody “The Bull” Bullock. You…
a. Run for the door.
b. Admire his hotness, then run for the door.
c. Imagine him naked.
3. You’re meeting Brody at V-Spot, a “Voyeur Motel.” What are you wearing?
a. A cute sundress with wedge sandals
b. You’re not going anywhere without Spanx
c. Doesn’t matter. Brody is sexy enough that it’s all coming off!
If you selected all of the above, you’re in for the night of your life…
Contemporary, sexy stories for sassy women.
Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon
www.millsandboon.co.uk/cosmo (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/cosmo)
This book is dedicated to Fiona Marsden, for being the best Retweeter on Twitter! Thank you for all the support!
With special thanks to:
My wonderful editor, Flo Nicoll, for always pushing me to make my stories better.
My family, for putting up with my long hours on the computer and my addiction to reading and writing sexy romance novels! I love you!
My readers, for visiting me on Facebook, Tweeting with me on Twitter and leaving great reviews for my books. Thank you!
Dear Reader,
After writing six books for the Mills & Boon Medical Romance line, I’m thrilled to up the sexy in this Cosmopolitan Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon. (Although I couldn’t stop myself from writing another nurse heroine, probably because nurses are so AWESOME!)
The V-Spot takes place at, well, The V-Spot, a voyeur motel. A way different setting than I’m used to, but boy did I have fun writing it. Exhibitionists and voyeurs are about as far as you can get from doctors and nurses—at least in their professional capacity. And yet a love story is a love story.
Thank you for reading The V-Spot. I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please make my day and leave a review. And maybe check out some of my other books at www.wendysmarcus.com (http://www.wendysmarcus.com).
Wishing you all good things,
Wendy S. Marcus
The V-Spot
Wendy S. Marcus
Contemporary, sexy stories for sassy women.
Cosmo Red-Hot Reads from Mills & Boon
www.millsandboon.co.uk/cosmo (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/cosmo)
Contents
Chapter One (#u509ce39c-4cdd-5855-bd23-f26501231907)
Chapter Two (#u7441d93b-3ecb-5a3d-bc8c-45a30e0b97ed)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Submission Guidelines (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
If Emma Masters had a pen and paper handy, or the inclination to jot down the top four reasons she’d willingly let her best friend, Sadie, set her up on a blind date, the list would look something like:
1 Oxygen deprivation secondary to high-waisted shapewear that’d apparently shrunk in the dryer.
2В Impaired judgment secondary to ingesting a few too many glasses of Skinnygirl Moscato.
3 Sexual deprivation secondary to a crazy-busy schedule that didn’t allow her time to search out a man interested in some naked fun with a woman at least a dozen pounds past pleasingly plump.
4 Severe exhaustion secondary to Sadie’s persuasive persistence which she’d ended with, “Every woman deserves a good fuck on her birthday.If she’s not in a relationship, it’s the best friend’s responsibility to see that she gets it.”
Hard to argue with that logic, but Emma had tried, countering with, “Idon’t need a man.” Even though, over time, her need had grown distractingly intense in the presence of certain men.
Intuitive Sadie had seen right through the lie, and once she got an idea in her head... Seeing no other alternative, Emma had ordered another round of drinks determined to set such stringent criteria for her blind date, Sadie would never be able to meet them.
Unfortunately, in her then soused state, she’d failed to adequately assess Sadie’s enthusiasm for the project or her determination. Over the next six weeks Sadie had diligently met every single one, including the full physical exam and STD screening.
That’s how she, Emma Masters, wound up at The V-Spot, a voyeur motel. Who knew such a thing existed? Apparently her best friend did. Note to self: Never trust Sadie when she emails you an address for your GPS—at the last possible minute—accompanied by the words: The location is a surprise. You’re going to love it!
Even though, upon arrival, Emma had been assured the enterprise was completely legit, every time the door to the VIP reception room opened she half expected to be rounded up in a police raid, shoved into the back of a windowless van and taken off to jail. But curiosity regarding who had agreed to Sadie’s scheme kept her rooted in place.
A size-fourteen woman—well, a size sixteen Spanxed-down to a fourteen—in a sea of pert, scantily clad sixes.
A single surrounded by at least twenty couples, not one friend among them.
The clichГ©d fat chick, standing alone at the snack table.
On her twenty-fifth birthday.
Emma adjusted the nondescript black eye mask she’d been given to ensure anonymity of all V-Spot visitors and did a quick scan of the reception room, noting all the men who’d managed to show up on time for their dates. Concern that Sadie’s mystery man had changed his mind started to build.
She did her best to ignore it, focusing in on her surroundings instead. The place had a summer camp feel, clean and well-kept but rustic and no-frills. Large, tastefully done, black-and-white prints of naked men and women engaged in a wide variety of sex acts lined the natural wood walls. The frames hung at eye level equidistant apart. She resisted the urge to fan herself at the vivid memories of a few of those detailed drawings. Mesmerizing and arousing, a few discomfiting, each was a beautifully done work of art suitable for display in an upscale gallery.
Seeing everyone around her occupied, Emma snuck a handful of potato chips, stuffed them in her mouth and, turning away from the crowd, closed her eyes to block out any distractions as she savored the yummy goodness. A greasy, salty, crunchy consolation she hadn’t allowed herself in years. A vice she may have to reconsider because they were just as delicious as she remembered.
Luckily she’d cracked open an eyelid in time to catch Angie, The V-Spot VIP room hostess, walking in her direction. Emma still couldn’t believe she’d managed to keep her jaw from hanging open when Angie had explained how the evening would work. Exhibitionists. Voyeurs. Oversize windows. Dark pathways.
It had taken a few minutes, and a few hearty gulps of wine, but once her initial shock had worn off, every time she thought about watching others having sex, her heart broke into a gallop of excitement. And, well, other parts of her were experiencing a little tingly anticipation, too.
Except, with each passing minute, it seemed more and more likely she’d be leaving without ever getting to sample the erotic decadence hidden behind the high walls of a faded wooden privacy fence a few short yards away.
She swallowed down her mouthful of chips, and her growing disappointment, with some cabernet, placing the half-full glass on a tray. No more of that if she’d be driving herself home in the next few minutes.
“Maybe your date had car trouble,” Angie offered. “Cell service is horrible out here.”
Out here being rural upstate New York, a good three hours from her home, an hour and a half of narrow, windy roads from the highway, and at least forty-five minutes from any signs of civilized life.
Emma forced a small smile and a polite nod acknowledging the statements. After all, it wasn’t Angie’s fault Emma had been stood up. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ll give him another couple of minutes.” She’d about reached her limit of pitying glances and had only stayed as long as she had because Sadie insisted �B’ was crazy attracted to Emma and eager for their date. And because he’d been so sweet and thoughtful by having a dozen red roses delivered to her at work yesterday—her actual birthday—with a card: Looking forward to tomorrow night.Happy Birthday, B.
“You don’t need a date to walk the viewing paths,” Angie offered. “Plenty of people do it alone. Once the sun goes down and more guests arrive no one will even notice you.”
As if that didn’t scream Total Loser Incapable of Getting a Date.
“And your upstairs, private room has already been paid for.”
Her upstairs, private room. She had an upstairs, private room! For birthday sex. With her blind date.
Who was he? Would she find him attractive? Would he find her attractive? Would the sex be as fantastic as she hoped? That is, of course, if Sadie’s birthday present actually showed up.
A couple who’d been looking at her oddly for the past fifteen or so minutes came over to join her conversation with Angie. “We couldn’t help but overhear,” the tall, red-haired, disgustingly slender, perfectly proportioned, probable underwear model said.
“Yes.” The man, a tall, thin, wannabe �50s crooner in a retro black suit and wingtip shoes, looked Emma over as if she was a vintage guitar and he was a collector. “It’s a damn shame to drive so far and not get to experience all The V-Spot has to offer.”
Angie introduced them. “Nick. Sugar. Meet Emma.”
Emma got the feeling Nick and Sugar were V-Spot regulars.
She shook each of their offered hands, Nick holding on long enough to make Emma feel uncomfortable. “Two’s fun,” he said. Then tugging her closer while leaning in as if to share a secret, he added, “Three’s an adventure,” loud enough for Sugar, Angie and everyone in a ten-foot radius to hear.
Emma had to be reading this situation all wrong.
But Sugar nodded, looking hopeful.
Angie shook her head, looking apologetic.
Emma could just imagine what her face must look like. Stunned, probably. Although once again she’d managed to keep her jaw from dropping open. And the firsts of the night kept on coming. First blind date. First visit to a voyeur motel. And her first, if she wasn’t mistaken, invitation to join up with a couple for a threesome.
As much as Emma enjoyed reading about them, actually participating in one? Um, no, thank you. Watching others having sex was about as far outside of her comfort zone as she planned to stray on this fine June evening. So what if it was her birthday and she’d mentally prepped herself for a night of adventure doing things she’d never done before? A girl had to draw the line somewhere. Emma chose to draw it with her on one side and Nick and Sugar on the other.
Time to get going.
“Thank you,” Emma said, adjusting the strap to her pocketbook on her shoulder. “But I don’t think so. Visiting The V-Spot is something my boyfriend and I wanted to share together.” That’s how it always started, with a little lie to avoid looking pathetic. What did it matter since she’d be heading home in a few minutes anyway? “My fiancé, actually.” Having a fiancé was better than a boyfriend, right? “It’s all so new.” She smiled. “I have to get used to calling him that.”
Nick lifted her left hand and pointed out, “No ring.”
Emma snatched it back and answered, “Tonight’s a role-play night,” thankful for her ability to think fast. “Anyway, he’s a doctor.” She smiled proudly, even knowing her date would most definitely not be a doctor, since she’d strictly forbidden Sadie from choosing one of their colleagues at the hospital. “He probably got tied up with one of his patients and couldn’t reach me because of the poor cell service.” Or more likely because Emma had insisted Sadie not share her address or phone number with anyone. A woman living on her own had to be careful.
A commotion at the far end of the room caught Angie’s attention and she excused herself to go investigate. Thank goodness Nick and Sugar followed.
No sooner had they disappeared from view, the front door banged open.
As if a bad-luck bomb had exploded at her feet, Emma’s night went from bad to worse, because not ten feet away stood Brody “The Bull” Bullock, the overconfident, full-of-himself professional wrestler who routinely visited her pediatric floor to entertain the kids.
Please, God, no. Not him.Not tonight.
She froze, instantly regretting the bright, bold print of the low-cut, cleavage-displaying sundress she’d worn. A colorful dress that made her stand out in a crowd, when right now she desperately wanted to blend in.
He stood in the doorway, filling it with his large frame, while he surveyed the room. His signature tight black T-shirt hugged his over-muscled chest, and worn-out, faded blue jeans clung to his hips and thick thighs. He was too big, too handsome, too everything. At the thought of him witnessing her humiliation, of him telling his loud-mouthed friends how he’d found her alone at a voyeur motel, of the endless teasing and tormenting she would no doubt be forced to endure as a result, her heart started to pound and her armpits grew disturbingly wet.
I’ll go to church every Sunday, she bargained with the Almighty. Just don’t let him notice me. Maybe she should have offered up a more realistic and achievable bargaining chip, because in that moment he spotted her and smiled his cocky I’m-so-handsome-you-gotta-love-me smile. And Emma got the distinct impression he wasn’t at all surprised to see her there, that he expected to see her. Which could only mean...
Oh no, no, no, she shook her head and took a step back, trying to put more distance between them. One of her very specific criteria had been no one from the hospital. Okay, so technically she and Brody didn’t actually work together, but close enough.
Emma glanced around the room looking for another exit, not finding one. Damn it.
He’s totally into you, Sadie had said.
Why would she lie? Why would she get Emma’s hopes up only to send them crashing down into a disappointed heap at the big blind date reveal?
Guys like Brody, aka way too good-looking, popular athletes, didn’t pay attention to women like Emma. Unless their interest was forced as part of a bet, or they chose a dare over the truth, or they wanted something from her. In high school and college it’d been for help getting in good with one of her friends or for a tutor to help them maintain academic eligibility to play sports. Always in private, so no one would see them together, so worried about their precious reputations. Egocentric assholes.
Which is why Emma made it a point to avoid guys like Brody. And when she couldn’t, like at work when she’d first been assigned to screening the wrestlers before they could circulate among the patients, it was why she remained aloof, all business, a total professional unsusceptible to their insincere charms.
He stepped toward her and Emma’s heart started to race. Why was he here? Cruel prank came to mind. And Emma got mad. How dare he ruin her night? And ruin it he had. Because there was absolutely no way in hell she’d be shedding one stitch of clothing in front of The Bull. No way in hell she’d give him the opportunity to criticize her or poke fun at her or discuss her many physical imperfections with his wrestling buddies, like they discussed so many other women, as if Emma wasn’t even in the room.
Best birthday ever? Over before it’d even begun.
When he came to a stop in front of her, looking as if he had every right to be there, Emma wanted to hit him. If she could have done it without creating a scene she would have. Instead she pursed her lips to keep from screaming out and narrowed her eyes in warning.
He held up his hands, seeming ready to fend off an attack—apparently he was smarter than he looked—and opened his mouth to say something. But his words got drowned out when Angie yelled, “Thank God. A doctor.”
What?
Emma jerked her head around to see the parted crowd and a clear path to Angie, who was kneeling next to a man who’d apparently collapsed to the floor. “Come.” She motioned with her hand to Brody. “We need you.”
With a collective swivel of heads, everyone in the room turned in their direction.
Brody glanced over his shoulder as if expecting a doctor to be standing there.
If the situation hadn’t appeared so serious, Emma may have laughed at Brody’s horrified expression as he turned back to face Angie and pointed to his chest. “You mean me?” He shook his head. “No way. I’m not a doctor.”
“Isn’t he your fiancé?” Angie asked Emma loudly, her voice approaching panic.
Apparently Angie was not a fan of wrestling. All eyes shifted to Emma.
“You have a fiancé?” Brody bellowed.
Good Lord.
He stood to his full height of a couple of inches over way too tall, crossed his beefy arms over his wide chest and stared down at her with angry brown eyes.
As if he could bully an explanation out of her.
The jerk.
Emma looked away to find no escape in the dozens of questioning, some disapproving, eyes still locked on her. So she did the only thing she could and tried to divert their attention. “Man down, people.” She stormed toward the man sitting on the floor. “Let’s focus on what’s important.”
Someone yelled, “That’s The Bull.”
Another person, this one female, followed with, “What’s he doing here?”
A third added, “He’s her date?”
The third speaker just happened to be standing within elbow range when she’d uttered that unflattering remark. So Emma maybe nudged her aside a little harder than necessary while saying, “I’m a nurse. Back up and give me room,” so the woman wouldn’t feel in any way assaulted.
Emma knelt beside the twenty-something blond-haired businessman who appeared to be experiencing moderate respiratory distress with impaired air exchange. “My name is Emma and I’m a nurse. Can you tell me what happened?”
He mumbled.
Emma called out, “I can’t hear.”
No one seemed to care because The Bull had arrived.
A booming male voice she recognized as Brody’s professional wrestler voice yelled, “Quiet.”
The room went silent.
She bent and put her ear close to the man’s mouth.
“Allergic.” He wheezed. “Nuts. Shellfish.”
She looked at Angie. “Call an ambulance.” Angie jumped to her feet and ran off.
Emma turned her attention back to her patient. “Do you have an EpiPen with you?” She sent up a prayer that he did because they were in the middle of nowhere and he’d likely die from anaphylaxis before an ambulance could reach him.
Thank goodness he nodded. “My...car. Center...console.”
“Keys,” Emma said.
He fumbled ineffectively to reach into his pocket.
Emma moved his hands out of the way and dug into the front pocket of his dress pants. They didn’t have time to waste. “Who’s his date?” she asked, looking up at the people surrounding her.
A young brunette who looked in shock raised a hand.
“Do you know where his car is parked?” Or had she insisted on separate cars like Emma had?
Eyes wide and tear-filled, the woman nodded.
“Come on.” Brody grabbed the keys, took the woman by the arm and pulled her out toward the parking lot.
The seconds passed like hours while Emma waited. The man’s breathing grew more labored, his wheezing more pronounced. His pulse increased, each beat pounding beneath her fingertips. Emma did all she could, loosening his tie, unbuttoning his shirt to reduce any exterior restrictions to his airway and in preparation to administer CPR if his condition worsened. She reassured him, did her best to keep him calm and watched helplessly as his lips turned an alarming shade of blue.
Finally Brody crashed back into the room—did the man do anything quietly?—and thrust two EpiPens at her.
Then he set to work herding the gawkers outside.
Out of habit, Emma checked the packaging for signs of tampering and an expiration date. Not that it mattered because she would inject at least one regardless. Then she popped off the safety cap, flattened the material at the man’s outer thigh and administered the premeasured dose of medication right through his pants. Afterward she checked to make sure the needle had dropped and the full dosage had injected before massaging the insertion site.
The epinephrine went to work immediately. As his breathing eased and his color improved the man introduced himself as Neil. Emma stayed with him, which suited her just fine since she had no desire to have any interaction with Brody the Birthday Ruiner.
Fortunately for Neil, unfortunately for Emma, the ambulance arrived much faster than she’d anticipated. She gave her report to the EMTs, found her purse and hoped to slip away unnoticed.
But it seemed remnants of bad-luck bomb particulate lingered on her person.
Just outside the door, Nick snuck up beside her, linking his arm through hers and falling into step as she walked. “Soooo. Not a real physician or a real fiancé, after all.”
“I told you tonight’s a role-play date,” Emma lied, deciding to continue the charade rather than own up to her misinformation. “Tonight he’s the doctor and I’m his nurse.” She extricated herself from Nick’s grip and, as politely as she could, pushed him away.
She noticed Brody over by the privacy fence at the center of a swarm of his adoring fans. Of which she was not one—even if he was nauseatingly attractive and great with the kids on her floor.
“But you really are a nurse,” Nick pointed out.
“Well, yes.” She headed for the parking lot. “My role wasn’t much of a stretch.”
Nick followed her. “You know you’re still welcome to hang with me and Sugar. Brody, too.” He may have looked the part of laid-back man issuing a casual invitation, but his voice came out way too eager.
Would this night never end? “Thank you so much for the very tempting offer. But I really have to be going. Emergency at home,” she lied. “I’m not sure how Brody plans to spend the rest of his night. Maybe he’d be interested.” Based on all she’d read about him in online news articles, probably he’d be interested, especially once he got a look at Sugar.
“Hot diggity!” Nick said and veered off, probably to hunt down Sugar and give her the news.
The darn gravel hindered Emma’s hasty departure. Sadie had suggested she wear comfortable shoes. But chubby girls needed to elongate for optimum presentation, so she’d chosen a nice pair of three-inch wedge-heeled sandals for the evening. They were comfortable, usually, but, as it turned out, not ideal for travel over gravel.
“It was nice meeting you,” she yelled after Nick. Then she maneuvered the rest of the way to her SUV without looking back.
Chapter Two
“Like I told you before, darlin’, that there would fall into the category of my personal property,” Brody told the overzealous female fan as he removed her hand from his ass. Again. He tempered his action with a practiced smile. “I’d hate to have to restrain you with a double chicken wing.”
Damn if she didn’t look eager for him to give it a try.
His agent’s words, a constant redundant reminder, flashed through his mind. Give the fans what they want, whatever they want.Keep them happy and they’ll keep you and me living the good life.
So he added a flirtatious wink and said, “Maybe some other time.”
Problem was, after seven years in the business, his definition of “the good life” had changed. Yeah, he made a fantastic income. But there were few places he could go and not be recognized. Wrestling fans who watched him on television, attended his matches and purchased his likeness in toy stores considered him an approachable friend. And they approached...constantly.
Women who followed the circuit wanted the notoriety of being seen with him, and would do anything for the opportunity. While respectable women like Emma Masters judged him and found him lacking without ever giving him a chance.
Which is why, after overhearing Emma and Sadie discussing Emma’s upcoming birthday blind date surprise, he’d approached Sadie about getting in on the celebration. So he could introduce Emma to the real Brody, a nice, smart, regular guy. So he could woo her and warm her up and show her she’d misjudged him.
Convincing Sadie had taken some effort, but she’d come around.
Then he’d learned the terms of the date and he’d started looking forward to it even more.
Brody watched Emma exit the reception room, unsurprised she’d barely spared him a glance. You expect a woman like Emma to fall into your arms without having to work for it?
No. Emma Masters would require some seducing. Brody smiled, looking forward to the challenge.
As she walked some guy latched on to her arm and Brody saw his chance to earn some points playing the hero. But two steps in their direction and on the verge of telling that idiot what he’d do to him if the jerk didn’t get his hands off her—in his loudest, most intimidating voice—Emma pushed him away.
Brody should have expected she could handle herself. There was a reason his fellow wrestlers referred to her as the pit bull of the pediatric ward. Emma didn’t take any crap, remained focused on her task no matter how much they joked or teased or flirted. Over the years, trying to get a rise out of her had become a game he looked forward to playing.
But a few months ago, while hanging around waiting for Samson to catch a few private minutes to hit on Sadie, he’d occupied his time by watching Emma, noticing her softer side for the first time. The beautiful, genuine smile she reserved for people who were not wrestlers, apparently. The tender touches and compassionate caresses she reserved for her little patients and their families. The way she could coax a smile from the sickest of children or the most exhausted and drained parent.
That’s also when he started to see Emma as more than a nurse, as a full-figured, voluptuous woman with warm blue eyes, a fair complexion and pretty blond hair he’d like to see loose from its tight bun.
She worked as a plus-sized model to earn extra cash during college, Sadie had told him. That’d come as a shocker. But the way she looked tonight, all dressed up and dolled up, with her hair down and wearing shiny red lipstick, he could see it. Her only indulgences are chocolate, wine and a weekly pedicure. If he had his way, she’d be adding to the list pronto.
The more Sadie shared about Emma, the more he wanted to uncover—especially the biggest secret of them all—the full, lush, sensually rounded figure she tried to hide beneath baggy hospital scrubs. He was a big man ready to try out a big woman. More cushion for the pushin’ and all. Something different. His dick started to fill at the thought.
Emma continued on toward the parking lot, talking to the man beside her, walking slowly, carefully in her heels, her shoulder-length, curly blond hair blowing in the slight breeze. Her knee-length sundress flowing, occasionally clinging, allowing glimpses of the curves it concealed as she moved. So pretty, so feminine and desirable.
She thought to escape him? Not gonna happen, sweetheart. He’d been dreaming about her for weeks. But, based on her downright frigid reception, getting Emma to even agree to their birthday date was going to take some work. Best he get started.
Brody turned his attention back to his fans. “Gotta run to get changed for my date,” he said, ignoring the disappointed voices and pleas for him to stick around for a few more minutes. They always wanted more from him. “As of right now I’m putting The Bull out to pasture for the night. It’s just me, Brody, and I’m on a date.” He scanned the group, giving them his evil, threatening wrestler look. “I won’t take kindly to being disturbed.”
Thanks to his long legs which made it easy to hurry and not look like he was hurrying, Emma’s practical, dark blue SUV came into view in the next minute. But he saw no sign of her. He looked around the small parking lot as he walked, approaching with caution, on the lookout for flying objects aimed in his direction, not sure what to expect from Emma.
What he did not expect was the grunting he heard coming from the other side of her vehicle. “Emma?” he asked.
“Stop,” she cried out.
He hesitated, asked, “What are you doing?” then continued forward. The gravel crunching beneath his feet must have given him away because all of a sudden her head popped out by the far side of the front window, her hair tousled, her eye mask gone, the fair skin on her cheeks colored pink. From the heat? Exertion? A blush? Her pinup girl red lips had him wanting to kiss her...until they formed the words, “Take one more step and you’ll get a face full of rocks.” She twirled away. More grunting ensued, accompanied by grumbling that sounded like “...mess up that pretty face of his.”
He couldn’t help it, he smiled at the threat then bent to look at her through the front driver and passenger side windows. She twisted and wriggled and strained. Then she noticed him and went rigid.
He waved and gave her a dopey grin. “Whatcha doin’?”
She narrowed her eyes in response. “None of your business. Go away.”
Not likely.
She moved farther down.
He did the same, albeit on the opposite side from her. “Do you need any help?” Maybe she had an itch she couldn’t reach or a bee flew into her pretty sundress. With that floral print she’d no doubt attract them.
She didn’t answer. When she let out one final grunt followed by an arousing moan of pleasure and a, “Yessss,” he got the message she’d finished doing whatever the heck she’d been doing. That moan got him thinking maybe she wasn’t over there doing it alone. He thought back but couldn’t remember seeing the loser that’d followed her to the parking lot rejoin the rest of the visitors. And a vision of that man on his knees at Emma’s feet, bunching her skirt up to her waist with his head between...
Propelled by an unexpected territorial urge to protect what he considered to be his, at least for tonight, Brody rounded the rear of the vehicle to be stopped short at the sight of Emma, standing alone, leaning against the door, panting slightly, looking as though she’d just triumphed in battle, her prize the heavy-duty, black fabric-elastic contraption dangling from her hand.
“To think I suffered the torture that is shapewear for you!” she said, shoving the undergarment into her oversize red pocketbook. “Well, I’m for sure going to breathe easier on my way home than I did on the trip here.”
She tried to storm past him.
He held out his arm to stop her. “Hold on a minute.”
Gracing him with another glare she said, “Please move.” When he didn’t she added, “Now,” in that do-it-or-suffer-my-wrath tone she used to boss him and his buddies around when they visited the pediatric floor of her hospital. No one dared mess with Emma while she supervised them washing their hands then checked their temperatures and listened to their lungs to evaluate them for any signs of illness before she’d allow them to circulate among her patients.
“Honey, I know—”
“I am not your honey,” she snapped, pushing past him. “And there is nothing you can say that will make me stay and endure this indignity one minute longer.” She rounded the front of the vehicle.
Indignity? “Emma, wait,” he said, following her.
She reached for the door.
“Please,” he said quietly.
She stopped but stared at her hand on the handle rather than look at him.
“I know I’m probably the last person you expected to show up tonight.” But did she have to come off so averse to the idea?
“You got that right,” she said, turning to face him. Something flashed in her eyes. Anger? Hurt? “Did you lose a bet? Is this some sort of joke? Have a good laugh at my expense? Are all the guys in on it?” She looked around the parking lot. “Did they come with you to witness my humiliation firsthand?”
What? “No. Of course not. Listen—”
She didn’t.
“Why are you here?” she snapped.
Brody spread his arms wide and smiled. “I’m your birthday present, with love from Sadie.”
“This is insane.” She started digging around in her purse. “Do you honestly expect me to believe Brody �The Bull’ Bullock, a wildly popular, good-looking professional wrestler who could get any woman he wanted with a sexy wink and a smile, actually wants to—” She wrapped her arm around her waist, rested her left elbow on her right forearm and dropped her face into her palm. “Oh, God. What did Sadie tell you about this date?”
Things were falling apart fast. Brody wasn’t sure how to answer. So he didn’t.
She lifted her head. “Tell me.”
Brody decided to go with honesty. “She told me every woman deserves a good—”
“Stop!” Emma threw up her hand between them and locked her beautiful blue eyes on his. “You came here tonight expecting to...” She swallowed. “...with me?” She hesitated before narrowing her eyes and adding, “The pit bull of the pediatric ward?”
Well, he shouldn’t be surprised she knew about that. Not much got past Emma. “Not expecting, exactly. But ready, very willing and able.”
“With me,” she clarified, as if she couldn’t possibly believe it.
Sadie was right. Emma had no idea how sexy she was. “Yes, with you. I can’t think of any other woman I’d undergo a physical exam and blood testing for.” He smiled.
Her cheeks blushed a sexy shade of red.
“For the record, pit bull was a term of endearment, for the protector of the pediatric ward,” he tried.
Yeah, she wasn’t buying it.
“Did you choose the location of our date?” she asked accusingly.
He shook his head. “No way. That was all Sadie.” Quite frankly, he’d tried to talk her out of it thinking once Emma found out what went on at The V-Spot she’d leave. Only she hadn’t and that intrigued him.
“Have you been here before?” she asked.
“No.”
“And you have no problem coming to a place like this for sex with a woman you hardly know? Why does that not surprise me?” She crossed her arms under her bodacious breasts, as if offering them up to him. Damn, that made it difficult to concentrate.
Luckily he maintained enough brain function to recognize it was probably not in his best interest to point out she’d come to a place like this for sex without even knowing who she’d be having it with. “We’ve known each other for four years, Emma. We see each other every couple of months.” Whenever he could squeeze a visit to her hospital into his schedule.
“As far as I recall,” she responded, while glaring at him, “and I have an excellent memory, in all those years we have never once had a meaningful conversation. You’ve given no indication you had any interest in me whatsoever. Yet here you are. Surprise! Let’s have sex.”
Granted, his interest hadn’t dawned until recently. “What do you mean no indication? I know for a fact I have complimented you, repeatedly, every time I visit.”
She tilted her head. “You compliment every woman you come in contact with. It’s like you can’t help yourself.”
Not every woman, but close. It made them feel good. He liked making people feel good. “With you I meant them.” Apparently his honestly didn’t impress her.
“That’s it.” She turned away. “I’m leaving.”
“No.” He reached for her arm. “Give me a chance to explain how this all came about.”
She turned, very slowly, and looked up at him with interest, waiting.
He cleared his throat feeling uncharacteristically nervous knowing whatever came out of his mouth would make or break their evening together. For some inexplicable reason tonight’s date with Emma mattered to him, more than any date he could recall. He wanted it to be a success. “About a month back I overheard you talking to Sadie at the Nurses’ station.”
“Spying, were you?” she asked with a set of raised eyebrows and another head tilt.
“Waiting,” he clarified. Truth be told it’d been more like lurking. Waiting he could have done anywhere, but he’d chosen to do it within earshot of Emma and her friend. “Sadie mentioned she’d narrowed down the candidates for your blind date. And you said...”
She hesitated.
He waited her out.
“Fine,” she snapped. “I said, �Make sure he’s good-looking, sexy and can handle a big girl like me.’” She put her hands on her hips. “For your information, I was kidding when I said that. I never thought—”
“What else?”
She looked away and quietly added, “I want to spend my twenty-fifth birthday doing exciting things I’ve never done before.” She stared off into the distance as if remembering the conversation. Something flashed in her expression, a look of longing, or a hint of desire to set some part of herself free. He could relate.
Brody stepped in front of her to regain her attention. “I saw my opportunity to take you out on a special date, and I took it.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you. Because I wanted to be the one to make your birthday special. Because you work so hard and care so deeply for each of your patients and their families. They all love you. I figured if anyone deserved to have their birthday wish granted you did.”
She stood there, watching him. So he went on. “When you left I pulled Sadie aside and told her to put me at the top of her list.”
“And she did, easy as that?”
He smiled. “If I’m to be totally honest, it took some convincing.” And sincere promises to make tonight Emma’s best night ever, to keep the specifics of their date private and to treat her heart with care.
“Come here.” She motioned him forward. Two steps and she reached up to his right shoulder and tugged. “Bend down.”
He did.
She placed both of her hands on his head, moving it from side to side as she checked his ears. An impromptu health screening? When she finished he said, “That was random. What were you looking for?”
“An earwig,” she said, straight-faced. “This situation has Cyrano de Bergerac written all over it.”
And he lost it. “You know what? I am sick and tired of you thinking I’m some dumb wrestler incapable of coherent speech or being thoughtful without someone prompting me. While I’m not in the habit of bringing my resume on dates, I’ll have you know I hold a Bachelor of Science degree in exercise science. I’d just started on my master’s degree when my now agent came over to me at the gym and offered me the chance to make more money than I’d ever dreamed possible.”
After discussing all the perks, which included an endless supply of hot, willing women, it hadn’t taken much convincing to get a then twenty-one-year-old Brody to drop out of school and join National Coast to Coast Wrestling Entertainment the very next day. “And I’ve granted the most Make-A-Wish requests of any wrestler in the NCCWE.” Every single one he’d received. “A total of forty-two visits to terminally ill children around the country, at my own expense. You’ve seen my visits to your hospital. I make similar visits in whatever city I happen to be in whenever it can be arranged. Does that make me good enough for someone like you, or do you need to hear more?”
“Why the secrecy?” she countered. “Why not just ask me out on a date? Embarrassed at the thought of your friends seeing us together?”
No. “So you think I should have come right out and asked you out on a date?” he asked. “How exactly should I have gone about it? Corner you in the crowded Nurses’ station? Maybe follow you into one of those little rooms? Staked out your car in the parking lot? And if I had, what would you have said?”
Her guilty expression told him all he needed to know. “On the first day we met you took one look at me and judged me as unworthy of your time and attention,” he told her.
“I did not,” she tried, but her words lacked conviction.
“You saw my public persona and decided that’s all there was. There couldn’t possibly be more to me than my looks, my flirting with the fans and the physicality of wrestling.”
She looked down at her pretty, bright red-painted toenails. “I’m sorry.” Then she tilted her head up. “So this isn’t some elaborate prank?”
“No.”
“You honestly wanted to take me on a date for my birthday?”
He nodded. “I knew you wouldn’t go out with me if I went the traditional route.”
She gifted him with her first smile of the evening. A small, almost shy one that didn’t last all that long, but it was something. “I’m having a hard time processing the fact I’m at a voyeur motel with The Bull.”
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