Hot Bodies Boxed Set: The Complete Vital Signs Erotic Romance Trilogy (18 page)

“But it didn’t last. A year or so after I returned to work, I started having problems. It was subtle at first. My attention span dropped. It took me longer to concentrate, to focus. I lost my temper more easily, and more often. I became paranoid. I began accusing people of doing things that they of course weren’t capable of doing. I even screamed at patients a couple of times.

“Some of my subordinates complained, but Hofts shrugged it off. I had an impeccable reputation, an excellent track record. Hofts didn’t want to lose me, because my work attracted a lot of patients—and funding—to the hospital that it had come to rely on. Not to mention all the patent royalties I shared with Hofts on all my inventions—their share added up to several million dollars a year. I cruised through on that goodwill for another few years, but I was losing it, little by little.

“Pretty soon I started having anxiety attacks. I started drinking, taking Valium and other drugs I swiped from the hospital dispensary to take the edge off. Pretty soon, I was hooked. I was walking around on duty while high. There are days—whole weeks, even—that I don’t remember because I was too stupefied on pills or booze.

“I started making mistakes. They were minor at first but gradually it moved up to bigger things. Potentially dangerous things. I started mixing up my cases. I once left a sponge inside a patient. The nurse on duty caught that mistake before it could do any damage, luckily for me.

“That kind of thing started happening more and more often. My residents and nurses covered for me, first out of loyalty, then out of necessity—because Hofts was more than willing to put their employees and patients at risk in order to hang on to my millions of dollars’ worth of patent royalties. To a point.

“Things escalated until there came a day late last year when I went in to surgery drunk and high off my ass. I could barely even walk, or so my most senior resident said. I don’t remember going into the OR that day at all. Apparently my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t even hold a scalpel, let alone operate on anybody. My senior resident and the head surgical nurse intervened, and called security to have me forcibly removed from the OR before the patient could be brought in. Administration was called. They sent me back to my townhouse on Boston Common in a taxi. I woke up the next afternoon in my own bed at home, not knowing how I got there.

Harlan went over to the Subzero and pulled out another beer. After a moment, he shook his head and put it on the counter beside the sink. “Actually, I shouldn’t be drinking. I shouldn’t even have any of this stuff in the house. I really need to call my AA sponsor.” He took the rest of the beers out of the fridge, popped them all open, and then dumped their entire contents in the sink. “I had a bad day today.”

“You’re an alcoholic,” Joanna said, realizing.

“Among other things,” Harlan chuckled. “An asshole, a pill-popper, a bad surgeon. If you want to leave now, I understand. I can drive you home after the beer has left my system, or I can call my housekeeper to come pick you up. Your choice.”

“I—“ Joanna couldn’t speak. She needed to sit down, to think. Who was this man, really? Clearly, he was in a lot of pain. Joanna knew now that she loved Harlan Wilkinson. Of that she was sure. She knew that she couldn’t confess that love—whatever kind of love it really was—aloud. Not now. Not yet. “I need some time, Harlan,” she said. “Please.”

He sighed. “I expected as much. At first I wasn’t going to tell you all of this, because I figured it would just drive you away. But I can’t be dishonest with someone I love, either. I love you, Joanna.” Harlan’s eyes pleaded for her to respond.

“I—” Joanna faltered. Then her mouth clapped shut. She couldn’t say another word.

“You need some time,” Harlan said.

Joanna nodded. She went to gather her things. Harlan’s confession had hit her like a rolling boulder—yet, she completely understood why he’d wanted to keep the truth from her. “You can drive me home whenever you’re feeling up to it,” she finally heard herself say.

“All right. I understand completely. But there’s one last piece to my story I still need to tell you.”

Joanna steeled herself for the rest of the details, which surely would be awful. “Go ahead.”

“After a certain point, Hofts had had enough of my drinking on the job. They let me go. After the drunken OR incident I agreed to enter a rehab program and to voluntarily have my medical license suspended for one year while I got cleaned up.”

“I see,” was all that Joanna could say. She finished tossing her things into her tote bag and turned her gaze back on Harlan. His eyes were brimming with tears; his lower lip quivered like so much jelly.

Harlan stared at Joanna with a look of longing that could span centuries. Joanna tried to look away, but his eyes followed hers wherever they darted. Every time his gaze met hers, Joanna felt a fluttering at the base of her stomach. He radiated love for her with every pore of his being; she felt its power rake over her, body and soul. His passion for her was a palpable, tangible thing—the pull from his watchful eyes was devastating, exciting, and soul-crushing all at the same time.

Her husband Bob had never looked at her like that.

Never.

Before she could take another breath, his mouth seized upon hers, sending her entire body into a vortex of sensation. Harlan’s tongue traced the insides of her lips, raked itself over her teeth, and then plunged into the depths of her mouth until almost reaching the back of her throat. She kissed him back with equal force, exploring first his tongue and then the rest of his mouth, feeling, licking, tasting every molecule until she thirsted for more of him. She let her tongue trace the outside of his mouth, feeling the sharp little carpet of his razor stubble on his chin, then his cheeks. She buried her face into his neck, breathing kisses there until Harlan seized her by the shoulders and pushed her against the wall. His lips scorched a path down her neck that his tongue followed. He tore the collar of her thin cotton scrub blouse asunder, ripping the top portion of it until it hung askew, exposing her bra. He nudged the left strap off her shoulder with his nose, then traced a path of kisses to her nipple as her bra fell partially away. He rained kisses all around the edges of her breast, making her writhe in painful longing for him to seize upon the nipple that screamed for the liquid touch of his tongue. But instead of fulfilling that desire right away, he teased her, nibbling on the tender white skin that surrounded her breast’s golden crown. The sensation of his lips, teeth, and tongue on the silken edges of her bosom was enough to make her beg.

“Please,” she breathed. “Please.”

Harlan raised his head to meet her eyes and ran the fingertips of his left hand across Joanna’s swollen nipple, sending sensual shivers up and down her neck and spine. “Are we really going to do this, Joanna?”

“Take me, Harlan. I’m yours.”

“Joanna—” He tore the rest of her blouse off her heaving body. He kissed the milky valley between her breasts, then licked a trail with his tongue downward towards elastic waist of her scrub trousers, which he flicked off her body with a quick jerk of his wrist. The scrub trousers were so loose that they slid right over her scuffed white nurse’s shoes, which Joanna kicked off along with her socks as Harlan traced the lacy outline of her panties.

“You shouldn’t wear those baggy scrubs so much, Joanna. A body this beautiful shouldn’t be covered up.” He eased her panties down slowly, caressing the inside of her thighs and the back of her calves as the silky fabric passed over them, making Joanna’s breathing come in short, quick pulses. She lay there on the soft shag carpeting, naked save for half a bra cup that barely clung to her right breast, as Harlan stood over her, still fully clothed. The knowledge that she was in complete and total submission to this powerful, complicated man thrilled her in ways she never imagined. Her cunt throbbed with more intense sensations than she’d ever reached before—and Harlan hadn’t even touched it yet. And if he didn’t touch it soon. . . .

“Please.” Joanna found herself begging, wanting,
needing
more than she’d ever needed anything from any man, ever. “
Please
. Here. Now.”

Joanna sat up and tore at Harlan’s belt buckle, yanking his pants halfway down his legs until they caught on his prominent calf muscles. His cock already poked its warm, glistening head skyward, beckoning her. Joanna tore the boxers downward and pulled him to her. She arched her back, inviting him inside as a guttural cry escaped her throat. She closed her mouth over his cock in a liquid kiss and began to suck him, moving her mouth up and down against his shaft in an even rhythm that he matched with his own hips. She relished the musky, metallic taste of him against her tongue, thrilled at the harsh sensation his cock made when it touched the back of her throat. She loved this man. And in turn, she loved giving him head.

Harlan’s climax was already close, very close. Joanna felt his balls rise up against his cock, almost ready to blow their load. Seconds before he reached the point of no return, Harlan gently pushed Joanna off his cock. “Take it easy, baby,” he breathed. “Too much more of that, we’ll be finished before we’ve even started.” He stepped out of his sneakers and socks, then pulled off his pants, tossing them over his shoulder. His golf shirt stayed on; Joanna found that exciting, daring, and a little bit naughty all at once. He found a condom in his wallet and slipped it on. She parted her legs, expecting to receive him, but instead, Harlan fondled her intimately, first softly on the outside, and then suddenly, fiercely, on the inside. His fingers thrust into her, pulsing and pressing and vibrating on all of the most vital spots. He searched for her pleasure points, and found all of them. Joanna writhed and thrashed under his skilled, ministering fingers as she came. And when she thought she could stand it no longer, Harlan slid right into her as if by instinct. The sheer heft and weight of him on and inside her was more than enough to make her come a second and a third time, and as she did, she called his name again and again and again.

They matched each other’s rhythm perfectly, Harlan’s hips sinking to meet her rising ones in thumping harmony, his cock banging against her G-spot with every thrust. As their bodies rose and fell as one, Harlan’s lips passed over nearly all of Joanna’s torso, neck and arms—and with every kiss, he whispered delicate words of love to every pore, every inch of skin, every part and parcel of her. His ardor went from slow, soft, and gentle one moment to hard, fast, and urgent the next—and there were a hundred variations in between. Joanna’s hands slid up and down Harlan’s back, and as she rode higher and higher up a seemingly infinite mountain of pleasure, her fingernails sank deeper and deeper into his skin, finally drawing blood as he shuddered and groaned at the gush of his own orgasm. He collapsed against her, bathed in musky sweat that she tasted as she kissed his shoulder. It was a fast fuck, but it was a perfect one, too. Joanna and Harlan had achieved maximum pleasure in minimum time, and their love for each other was the reason.

They lay there in the afterglow for a long time, just enjoying the sound of one another’s breathing. Joanna closed her eyes, relishing the last few tingles of pleasure as her body sank into a state of deep relaxation. Finally, Harlan spoke.

“Thank you so very, very much, Joanna.”

“For what?”

“For this moment. For all of our time together—even the times when you called me an SOB.
Especially
those times, in fact.”

“You’re welcome,” Joanna said, her voice so serene she barely recognized it as her own. “But I really don’t know that I’ve done anything special.”

“But you have. You’re a very, very special woman, Joanna, and what you’ve done for me is even more special. Even if it all just ends here, you’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Joanna settled into the crook of Harlan’s arm. Even as she basked in postcoital bliss, the creeping doubts that had plagued her ever since she first set eyes on Harlan plagued her yet again. What did he mean,
even if it all just ends here
? Did he think it would end? Did he
want
it to end? What happened next?

Joanna and Harlan fell asleep in each other’s arms before either of them could give the matter another thought.

****

Early the next morning, even before dawn began poking its fingers of light through the bedroom window, Joanna awakened to the smell of bacon and eggs. Harlan had left a clean Egyptian-cotton bathrobe for her on the edge of the bed, and had even set a new toothbrush and bar of Ivory soap, both still in their plastic wrappers, on the sink for her to use. Joanna was touched by these thoughtful gestures, which seemed so out of character for someone as publicly hard-edged and macho as Harlan.

After she’d had a chance to freshen up, Joanna descended the spiral staircase that led to the lodge’s first floor. Harlan had a full breakfast set up on the kitchen table, complete with fresh-squeezed orange juice, tan cloth placemats, and matching cloth napkins in bamboo napkin holders. He set a plate of over-easy eggs and crisp bacon in front of her just as she sat down.

“I hope that’s the way you like your eggs,” he said, grinning. He was already dressed in jeans, a Hofts University sweatshirt, and a red-checked apron embroidered with
Real
Men Cook.
“Since you’re a stomach-sleeper, I took a guess on over-easy.”

Joanna smiled. The man was really too much. “You guessed right, actually. Except you forgot the Tabasco sauce.”