Chapter 25
Brant
The rest of the night goes by quickly. I move through the motions, but all I can think about is her.
How I snapped and completely lost it just to kiss her.
I’ve been fighting this for weeks, telling myself it was simply because of the proximity of working closely together.
And that acknowledging the attraction would make it fade.
I thought one kiss would be enough. That I’d get her out of my system. Scratch the itch and move on.
But no. The joke’s on me.
Because I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s everywhere. In every breath. Every heartbeat. In the spaces between thoughts.
I just want to kiss her again… and again… and again.
The feel of her body pressed to mine still sears my skin. She must’ve felt how hard I was for her. Just from her kiss. One goddamn kiss. I’ve never felt that way before, have never been so turned on.
I bury myself in work, hoping to regain some control. It doesn’t help. Every so often, we pass each other in the hallway. And every time, I look at her. I don’t even mean to, but there she is, and I can feel her eyes on me too. We’re like magnets.
Pulling out my phone, I send a message to a dealership contact I know.
She needs a car, not just because hers is old and now broken down, but because I don’t like the idea of her relying on rideshares, her dad, or waiting in the cold.
I don’t even overthink it. Just text the specs, confirm availability, and arrange for it to be delivered to her address by morning.
I’ll tell her it’s on loan until she leaves.
I expect her to argue, but I’ll deal with it later.
For now, I head down to the ICU to check on the little boy with the AV canal defect.
The ICU is filled with the sounds of monitors beeping and the nurses talking. I nod to them as I pass and head to the boy’s bed.
He’s so small in the bed. His chest rises and falls under the oxygen, the monitors showing stable signs. Dr. Sullivan’s updated notes are thorough. No complications so far, minimal bleeding, good response to medication. Everything I hoped for.
I stand there longer than I need to, watching him breathe.
He looks so peaceful. Unaware of what he went through and what’s waiting for him when he’s older.
I wonder if his parents are in the waiting room. It makes me think of how my parents would’ve experienced this same scared and sad feeling this little boy’s parents are too. I didn’t understand it then, but now seeing it first-hand, I do.
It’s time to get back to work, so I pass the head nurse as I leave and tell her to keep me updated.
I walk down the hallway, knowing she’ll be there waiting.
I wonder if these last few hours apart gave her time to think about things, and if she’ll decide she’s not going to want to pursue anything with me.
I’m about to approach the office. We need to hand over to the next shift so we can head home.
As I push open the door, there she is, her hair loose and no longer in a ponytail. My pulse jumps as she looks up and gives me a short nod. I want to cross the room, pull her into my arms, and kiss her… but, I don’t.
“We’ll hand over, and then we can go,” I say, keeping it professional.
But inside, my bones are shaking from holding back. My fingers twitch with the need to touch her. I try not to look at her mouth, but I fail miserably.
She nods again. “Okay.”
We finish the handover and head back to my office to grab my briefcase before leaving. Thinking about the conversation we need to have, and if she’s going to say it was a mistake.
“Should we go out separately?” she asks, reaching for her bag.
I pause and turn back slowly. “Do you want to?”
She meets my eyes, and there’s fire behind them, like a silent challenge. “No.”
That one word lights me up.
“Then let’s go. Your father already knows your car’s not working. He’s going to assume someone gave you a ride anyway.”
The mention of her father makes my stomach drop. He’s the man who could ruin my entire career if he caught me kissing his daughter.
I want the chief position. Fuck, I deserve it. I’ve earned it with every sixteen-hour shift, every decision, every sacrifice. A kiss shouldn’t change that.
She’s not even staying. She’ll be gone before long.
So I give myself this one secret moment. Just one more time.
I drop my case, step toward her, my hands find her waist, and I lift her like I already know where this is going. She squeaks, surprised, but wraps her arms around my neck without hesitation. I press her back against the door and finally kiss her again.
Her legs lock around my waist. My hands grip her hips as we kiss. Her lips are soft and passionate under mine. I kiss her like I’m starving, and she feeds me like she knows I’ll never be full.
She moans, and, God, those sounds are everything. I’m so hard it’s painful. Every shift of her hips against mine lights me up. My control’s slipping.
Her fingers bury into my hair, yanking me closer. Groaning into her mouth, I kiss her deeper. My hips press against hers, and when she gasps at the contact, I do it again. Slower this time.
She rolls her hips up to meet mine, and the friction nearly kills me.
I try to pull back, just for air, but she chases me. She bites my bottom lip like she owns me. And maybe, in this moment, she does.
“God, you’re such a fucking brat,” I mutter against her mouth, gripping her hard.
She smirks and rocks against me again. “You love it.”
I do. I really fucking do. And the urge to flip her over and show her exactly what happens when she pushes me like this is overwhelming. My palm tingles with the idea.
“Keep that up, and I’ll put you over my knee,” I growl, low enough that it sounds more like a promise than a threat.
Her breath catches. Eyes darken. And then she breathes, “Maybe I’d like that.”
Fuck my life.
My control snaps.
I don’t even know who I am right now. Just that I want her. That I need to feel her wrapped around me. I rock into her again, harder this time, and she whimpers, her nails dragging down my back through my shirt.
“Brant…” Her voice is a desperate plea.
“I know. I’ve got you.” My hand slides from her hip to her thigh, hitching her leg higher around my waist. The angle changes everything. She gasps, her head falling back, and I take the opportunity to kiss down her throat, teeth grazing her skin.
She grinds against me, matching my rhythm, and fuck, I’m too close. I should slow down, but then her fingers tighten in my hair again, and she pulls me back to her mouth.
She pants into me. “More.”
That word. That one fucking word causes me to break.
My whole body tenses as heat rushes over me like a wave. I gasp into her mouth as I come hard, like a teenager with zero warning and control over his body.
What the actual fuck?
She probably has no idea, but my entire body is still trembling, my breath ragged against her skin. I cling to her, chest heaving, trying to recover, trying not to die from embarrassment.
I’ve never lost it like that. Not ever.
And yet... I want her all over again.
She finally pulls away from my mouth, smiling, and glances down between us.
“Did you just...”
I run a hand over my face. “Yes.”
She laughs, actually laughs, and the sound goes straight to my gut.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” I say, trying to make it sound like a warning, but the smirk on her face ruins it. I’m smiling too. I can’t help it.
She’s proud and wicked as she hops down from my waist like she hasn’t just completely shocked my body. “Now you can take me home.”
“I’m getting changed first.”
“You can’t.”
“Why?” I raise an eyebrow.
“You walk out of here, and someone could notice you're in scrubs. Or when you show up to my house in scrubs that will scream something happened to my dad.”
I groan and drag a hand down my face again. “So I’m seriously driving you home wearing my own cum.”
She bites her lip, eyes dancing, but then adds innocently, “If it makes you feel any better... I’m wet too.”
The image that forms in my head makes me groan again. My hand is inching toward her thigh before I catch myself.
I want to touch her. Fuck, I want to slide my hand between her legs and feel exactly how wet she is. I want to make her come apart the way she just made me lose it. Want to watch her face, hear more of those sexy sounds she makes, and feel her come against my hand.
But not here. Not when anyone could see us. We’re already pushing our luck.
“Yeah, but you didn’t come in your pants.”
“Oh, I was close,” she says, eyes narrowing with mischief. “Don’t worry.”
“Pretty sure I could’ve made you come too,” I mutter, still stunned by how fast everything escalated. My heart is still racing after touching her. This isn’t me. I don’t lose control. I’ve built my entire life on discipline. But with her, it all goes out the window.
“Would that make me feel better?”
“It’d make me feel way better. Because right now, I feel like a stupid kid who couldn’t keep it together. What the hell is happening to me?”
She just smiles, soft and unbothered. Like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
And fuck, I like that smile.
I go to the bathroom and clean up quickly before we head out to the car, my body still tight with leftover tension, desperate to shower, to breathe, to reset. She walks beside me like she owns the sidewalk, cool and untouched. Meanwhile, I’m a wreck in slacks.
When we reach the car, I open the passenger side for her, drop my briefcase into the trunk, and circle around to the driver’s seat. I slide in, hand on the ignition, but I don’t turn the key.
She’s right there beside me. Breathing steady. Legs crossed.
And I’m not done.
Not even close.
I stare at the wheel, then over at her. My hand twitches toward her thigh. I want her to feel as out of control as I do.
“Come here,” I say roughly, knowing my car windows are tinted as dark as possible.
She tilts her head. “What are you doing?”