Chapter Ten Maya
Chapter Ten
Maya
Me: I was just taking care of a patient, and I swore I smelled you. A wave of your cologne came over me, and it made me smile.
Jordan: It only made you smile?
Me: Well, maybe not just That.
Jordan: Tell me what else it made you do.
Me: You’re relentless when it comes to this.
Jordan: I’m also hard.
Me: You just had me a few hours ago.
Jordan: And?
Me: Aren’t you tired of it already?
Jordan: If by “it,” you’re referring to your pussy, then I’m not even close to being tired of it.
Me: What if I was referring to me?
Jordan: Same answer applies. Come to the hotel tonight.
Me: I have to work a 12-hour shift today.
Jordan: Which means?
Me: It’s more like 13 hours by the time I leave, and I’m so tired I can’t even see straight. I normally do 8-hour shifts. I’m trying to pick up some overtime.
Jordan: I think you’re telling me it’s going to be a bathtub and Sam Adams kind of night?
Me: Lol. That’s what I’m telling you. It’s not that I don’t want to see you, I just wouldn’t be much more than a pillow princess.
Jordan: A what?
Me: Google it.
Jordan: Jesus, Maya . . .
Me: And considering I like to be an active participant when it comes to that kind of stuff, let’s plan to hang when I haven’t just finished a shift that long.
Me: I’ll see you in the morning?
Jordan: You will.
Me: I was hoping you were going to say that.
“For someone who worked her ass off yesterday, I thought you’d have a slower pace this morning. But not you,” Jordan said as he stood in front of me. “You ran those five miles like they were nothing.”
Instead of parting at the intersection that Jordan normally took to go home, he’d followed me to my apartment, where we caught our breath outside the front entrance of my building.
“Well, I got a good night’s sleep, which I wouldn’t have gotten if I’d stayed with you.” I winked at him.
He reached for my waist and pulled me toward him.
This was the first time he’d really touched me all morning, and as soon as I was within his grasp, I realized how much I’d missed it.
There was nothing like it—the sensation of his fingers on my skin, the protectiveness in how he held me, the passion in the way his thumbs stroked my hips.
“You’re saying I don’t let you sleep?” he asked.
“You do, but only for small intervals of time.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and smiled. “And then I wake up when I feel your lips on some part of my body.”
“I can’t help it. I just want to taste you all night.”
“I’m not complaining. Trust me.”
He leaned down and kissed me. It was slow, sultry. I expected to taste sweat but didn’t. There was only mint and hunger on his mouth.
“Are you sure you have to go to work?”
That gritty, demanding tone was almost enough to make me want to call in. If I hadn’t helped with Mom’s move, I would have. Between the two of us, my savings was drained.
“I have another thirteen-hour shift ahead of me,” I groaned. “And one more tomorrow, and then I’m back to my normal hours.”
“I want normal.” He tightened his clasp on me. “I want you in my bed.”
There was heat in his beautiful green eyes and a need in his mouth. Both were so strong that I grinned. “I love when you miss me.”
“You know what I love?” He pulled our bodies even closer together so there was nothing between us. “When you say yes.”
“I haven’t given you many no’s.”
“Even one is too many.”
I fanned my fingers through the back of his hair, the ashy-brown locks soft and silky. “The next two nights are all about work, and then I’m having a girls’ night with Emily. My bestie and I desperately need some time together. Then—what is that, Friday? Or Saturday?—I’m all yours.”
“You’re saying I have to wait that whole time to have you again?”
I laughed. “You have me every morning for five miles.” I lowered my hands to his chest, the hardness of his pecs one of the sexiest things I’d ever touched.
“It’s not enough.”
“It’s going to have to be until this weekend. Will you be back in your apartment by then?”
He let out a long exhale. “I don’t know.” He nodded toward the building behind me. “We can always go to your place.”
“And be extra quiet? You don’t know how to do that.”
He chuckled. “You’re the screamer.”
“Because it’s what you do to me—and I expect nothing less from you, so there’s no way we could ever have sex at my place.”
“Fair.”
I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. “Looks like your place is our only option, or the hotel—whichever works.”
His hands slid up my back and across my cheeks, holding my face to his. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Yes. You will.”
His breath came out as a moan, which was the same sound I made when he kissed me again.
Me: Are you at work?
Jordan: Yeah, why?
Me: I keep smelling you in the hallway.
Jordan: I’m just in your head.
Me: There’s no doubt about that. But what if someone has your cologne?
Jordan: No one has my cologne.
Me: How’s that even possible?
Jordan: Trust me on this.
Me: You’re saying I’m so obsessed with you that my brain is creating scents that aren’t really there?
Jordan: Without closing my eyes, I can see your pussy. I know how fucking incredible it smells. I could describe it perfectly. So, yes, Maya, that’s what I’m saying.
Me: My God, you’re dangerous.
Jordan: Because I’m right.
Me: And now because I’m wet.
Jordan: You must be home by now.
Me: I just got into the bath.
Jordan: How was work?
Me: Long. Very, very long.
Jordan: Have you eaten?
Me: Sam Adams is going to be my dinner tonight.
Jordan: What’s your apartment number?
Me: 302. Why?
Jordan: Dinner will be there in 20 minutes.
Me: What? Jordan! You didn’t have to do that.
Jordan: I don’t like the thought that all you were going to have is beer, especially if you’re meeting me for a run in the morning.
Me: I wouldn’t miss our run.
Jordan: Then eat up. I’m going to work your ass hard tomorrow.
Me: I appreciate you—just know that.
Jordan: I do.
Me: Two more nights.
Jordan: You don’t think I’m counting?
Me: I love that you are.
Jordan: Did you survive work?
Me: Barely. I forgot how tough these shifts are.
Jordan: Tell me you’re eating dinner.
Me: Leftovers of the Chinese you sent last night. Which was enough for three people, by the way.
Jordan: Will I see you in the morning?
Me: I’ll be there. I don’t promise a run like today’s, though.
Jordan: Who says we have to run at all?
Me: You’re thinking breakfast?
Jordan: I’m thinking we go under the bridge again.
Me: A second time without any interruptions? I don’t know . . . Do we have that much luck?
Jordan: I’m willing to take the risk and find out.
I walked into Bettie’s room with a small cup that held her medication and asked, “How are you feeling today?” I set the meds on the tray next to her bed and refilled her water pitcher at the sink.
“Oh, my dear, this knee is feeling dreadfully stiff.”
I topped off her water glass and dumped the pills into her hand, watching her take them one by one. “It’s going to for another week or so. Don’t worry, we’ll get you right where you want to be, and we’ll have you dancing in no time.”
She finished swallowing her medication and patted my arm as if it were the head of a sweet dog. “Do they ever give you a day off?”
“Yeah, do they?” Emily asked from the doorway.
“The fabulous duo.” Bettie’s hand stayed on my arm. “Maya, you’ve been here every day this week. You need some rest, my girl.”
I nodded. “I have tomorrow off.”
“Which is why she’s all mine tonight.” Emily joined us at the bed. “Bettie, I’m going to get her all dressed up and take her out. Aren’t I, Maya?”
I sighed, smiling at my best friend. “Or we can watch a movie and be asleep before nine. That kinda sounds amazing too.”
“She’s no fun, Bettie,” Emily groaned. “She has tomorrow off and wants to stay at home and sleep. What am I going to do with her?”
“I know just what you’re going to do with her.” Bettie lifted her reading glasses off the tray, and once the bright-red frames were on her face, she picked up her cell and tapped the screen several times. “What’s your email?” she asked me.
Before I could reply, Emily was reciting the same email address I’d had since college, and by the time Bettie set her phone back down, there was a vibration in my pocket.
“What are you up to?” I asked my patient.
When the only response I got was a grin, I took out my phone. There were two notifications on the screen. One was a text from Jordan.
Jordan: Under the bridge is becoming my new favorite spot. I can still taste you.
I did everything I could to keep myself from blushing as I moved on to read the email that had come through, then tried to process what I was looking at. “You gave us hockey tickets? To tonight’s game?”
“I certainly can’t go,” Bettie said. “And I’d rather someone use them than have them go to waste, so why not you two gals? The seats are marvelous. Right in front of the glass, center ice. You’ll have a grand time.”
“Who would have thought sweet Bettie would be an avid Boston Bears fan?” Emily said.
“There’s a lot about me that I bet would surprise you, dear.” She pushed her glasses down and looked at me from above the rims. “What do you say? Will you go?”
“She says yes,” Emily chimed in. “Even though Maya doesn’t know a thing about hockey and won’t have a clue what’s going on. It’s time she learn.”
I laughed at my best friend. “It does seem as though everyone is into this sport besides me.”
“By ‘everyone,’ you mean the new guy,” Emily said. “Who just happened to play hockey,” she told Bettie.
“For the Bears?” Bettie asked.
“No, no, not professionally.” At least, I didn’t think so.
He hadn’t mentioned that he’d played at that level or that he’d even played in college.
“He just played at lot.” Which had been what he’d said to me.
“Regardless, it would be nice to know what he’s talking about if he brings it up again, and tonight does seem like a great opportunity to learn.
” I smiled at Bettie. “You’re so, so generous to give us these tickets.
Thank you. There must be some way I can repay you. ”
“You can repay me by having a good time.” She pulled off her glasses and held them in her hand. “Take lots of photos so when I see you again, I can feel like I was with you gals at the game.”
A game I was going to bring up to Jordan when I saw him tomorrow night, hoping my newfound knowledge would impress him.
Or maybe I’d keep it a secret and inconspicuously drop some lingo the next time one of us brought up hockey.
I just knew that if it was tattooed on his body, it had to be extremely important to him, and that made me want to learn more about it.
“Deal,” Emily said.
I nodded, reaching for Bettie’s hand. “Deal.”
Me: What do I taste like?
Jordan: Perfection.
Me: That’s a flavor?
Jordan: It is when it comes to you.
Me: One more night . . .
Jordan: It feels like a fucking eternity.