Chapter Six
Jenna
On Monday, Lindsey and I were working the same shift. When I told her I’d created a profile on a dating app, her hazel-brown eyes lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
I’d never met anyone who spoke so loud and clear using only her eyes.
It was one of my favorite things about her.
Lindsey was thirty-eight, but with a skincare routine that kept her looking closer to thirty than forty. She was taller and curvier than me—though, that wasn’t saying much, as it didn’t take a whole lot to accomplish—but she was voluptuous in a way that was hard to miss.
While scrubs rarely did anyone justice, I’d seen her dressed for a night out, and I could attest her work attire downplayed what she could do if given the right wardrobe.
In a word, she was a bombshell.
Why her husband cheated on her, effectively ending their marriage, was a mystery to us all.
Her brunette hair was a few shades darker than mine, but about the same length, with the added bonus of a beautiful wavy texture. Most days, she wore it back in a clip. That day, she had it twisted up in a bun, an elastic headband keeping any fly-aways at bay.
It was during a rare lull in the ER when we snuck into the break room for a bit of coffee, and she insisted I show her my profile.
“With these pictures, I know guys have already been hitting you up. Have you matched with anyone yet?” she asked, my phone still in her hand.
I grimaced a little as I told her, “Not yet. There have been a couple of okay guys, but no one that’s made me stop and look twice.”
She squinted at me skeptically. “Is this you being overly critical? You know you can match with a guy and message him before making up your mind as to whether or not he’s worth a date?” I didn’t get the chance to answer before she started tapping at my screen. “Let me just see what we’ve got.”
I stood beside her, watching as she began scrolling through the men who’d sent a like my way.
“What about this guy? He’s kind of cute.” She opened his profile. “Thirty-five, six-foot, straight, no kids, bachelor’s degree, interested in monogamy. That’s a promising start.”
“Okay, but what does spiritual but not religious mean? Also, he’s got a cat. I’m sorry, but a man who owns a cat…” I shook my head to indicate I wasn’t going to go there.
Lindsey laughed. “I’ll give you that one. No cats.”
She tapped the X in the corner and his profile was discarded just as Rhonda, our nursing director, popped her head into the room.
“Nurse O’Neil, Hayes? Better get out here,” she said, signaling back toward the emergency room. “Chief’s got an announcement.”
Lindsey handed over my phone and we shared a glance as we trailed after Rhonda. There were still a few on staff making their rounds with patients, but a number of my colleagues were gathered by the nurses’ station at the center of the room. Dr. Heather Patterson, a gem of a woman and a hell of an emergency physician, stood near the back, her hands tucked into the pockets of her lab coat.
“What’s going on?” I asked in a hushed voice.
She raised her dark eyebrows at me and murmured, “New guy.”
That said it all.
We’d been understaffed for weeks, in desperate need of another doctor dedicated to the emergency room. The three we did have weren’t nearly enough, which meant they were grossly overworked and doctors from other departments were being asked to lean in. That was a good idea in theory but not in practice.
Not everyone could hack it in the ER.
That said, while a new doctor on staff was welcome, training him was going to be a chore in and of itself. It didn’t matter how old he was or how long he’d been on the job, he had to earn our trust and learn our ways.
“Oh, joy,” I teased.
The corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile as the Chief of Staff began to address our group.
“I’ll make this fast, as we’ve all got jobs to do. I know we’ve felt the pain of being shorthanded this past month, with Dr. Halbert up and retiring on us. Drs. Patterson, Clark, and Ramirez have been doing an excellent job holding down the fort and putting in the extra time. But I’m happy to report, they’ll get a little bit of a reprieve with Dr. Logan Grant on staff.
“He’s coming to us from Banner Medical in Casper. He’s been working in hospitals the last fifteen years, ten of which have been in emergency care. He starts right now —so introduce yourselves when you can and let’s get back to work.”
We didn’t have to be told twice, and the small crowd dispersed to get on with our days. As I returned to the nurses’ station, I caught the eye of the new guy. He offered me a small smile and a dip of his chin as he came toward me.
It couldn’t be ignored how attractive he was. He had a head full of dark blond hair he styled expertly, and his face was covered in a short layer of stubble. He was somewhere around six-feet tall, and obviously fit. Judging by his lean frame and tanned skin, I guessed he was a runner who didn’t neglect a bit of strength training to keep things interesting.
When he reached out to shake my hand, I noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring, and I had only one thought.
What a waste .
If I’d seen his photo on a dating profile, I would definitely have stopped to look twice. I might have even sent him a heart or a like or whatever. But he wasn’t a profile on an app, he was a doctor on staff, which made him inaccessible to me.
I didn’t mix business with pleasure.
It was a hard rule of mine.
“Logan,” he said, introducing himself.
I gave his hand a sturdy shake, keeping it totally professional as I replied, “Nurse Hayes. Jenna, for short.”
“Nice to meet you.”
I didn’t get a chance to return the sentiment before Rhonda called, “We’ve got an incoming. Hayes, you’re up. How about you show our new doc how it’s done.”
I was quick to reach for a pair of gloves before I smiled at Dr. Grant. “Shall we?”
He nodded and replied, “Let the games begin.”
The mid-morning lull we’d enjoyed for a whole fifteen minutes was the only one we had for the rest of the day. When eight o’clock hit and I’d reached the end of my twelve hours, I was more than ready to go home, eat a decent meal, and get off my feet for a while.
I lived about six minutes from the hospital, and I barely had to think as I drove my usual route home. My car stereo was turned up and I was singing along to one of my favorite Jordan Davis songs when I turned onto my street, saw his gray motorcycle, and immediately forgot all the words to any song ever.
I slowed down, way down, staring at the bike as my car practically crawled towards my driveway.
Not surprisingly, I hadn’t heard from Maverick since he’d walked out of my bedroom Saturday night. Given how we’d parted ways, I didn’t anticipate seeing him again for the foreseeable future, and likely even beyond that. I couldn’t make sense of why he was at my house.
Maybe he’d forgotten something I hadn’t noticed and was dropping by to pick it up.
Except, as I eased into my driveway and pulled into my garage, I noted how I saw Maverick’s Harley out front, but not Maverick .
Confused, I sat behind the wheel a minute longer, trying to make it make sense.
When I couldn’t, I gathered my things and decided to head inside.
Maybe he was out on a walk, waiting for me to return home.
He could have just texted , I thought as I exited my vehicle.
I barely had a single foot in my entryway when I came to the swift conclusion that Maverick was not out on a walk waiting for me to get home. The light coming from my living room and the soft sound of my television turned down low was all the evidence I needed to know he was inside .
Seeing as I rarely used my own front door, and I kept it locked at all hours of the day, I knew he couldn’t have just walked right in. And seeing as I lived alone, and I’d just returned home, there hadn’t been anyone to let him in, either. That left only one other option, and I wasn’t thrilled about it.
I slammed my garage door shut and marched up the stairs only to find Maverick sitting nonchalantly on my couch, his curls pulled up into a messy top-knot, his booted feet propped up on my coffee table.
He didn’t move, didn’t flinch, but merely shifted his dark brown eyes until his gaze was locked with mine.
“What the hell?” I cried, exasperated.
“You need new locks. Yours are shit,” he stated plainly.
I gaped at him, my brain trying to decide what to say to a man who just admitted to breaking and entering, whilst at the same time wishing he would get his boots off my table.
In the end, I decided in order to focus on the former, I had to deal with the latter.
“Could you not put your boots on my furniture?”
Respectfully, he was quick to put his feet on the floor. No sooner had he done that than he was standing and headed my way.
“What are you doing here, Maverick?”
“Came for a fuck.”
My mouth fell open, and before I could so much as think of how to respond, his tongue was swirling around mine.
The multitude of butterfly wings that fluttered in my stomach were so intense, I couldn’t explain how the whole organ didn’t just float up into my chest.
Maverick kissed me unrelentingly, leaving me no choice but to reciprocate.
As I did, he reached up and blindly tugged at my ponytail holder until my hair fell past my shoulders. When he sank his fingers into my mane, cradling my head as he worked my mouth, I dropped my purse at our feet. The thud of the stainless-steel water bottle I carried inside hitting the floor barely registered as I pressed up onto my tiptoes.
I wasn’t mad about him breaking into my house.
I wasn’t perturbed about his boots on my coffee table.
Not anymore.
I was too busy kissing him.
And I couldn’t stop.
He tasted delicious and felt even better.
I squeezed my arms between his, reaching for the back of his neck. My thumbs grazed the soft, short hair of the shaved portion of his head behind his ears, and I was tempted to tug at his ponytail holder, too.
It was a fleeting thought, lost when he broke our kiss in order to yank my scrub top out from the thick, elastic band of my matching jogger bottoms. As he pulled the fabric up over my torso, I lifted my arms in assistance.
“Shoes. Pants. Lose ‘em,” he demanded once he’d freed me from my top.
My panties damp from our kiss, my body buzzing in remembrance of all he had to offer, I didn’t question him.
While I kicked my feet free of my sneakers and dropped my joggers and panties, Maverick pulled a condom from his wallet, freed his dick, and made quick work of sheathing himself.
When we were both finished, he took me by the waist, I grabbed hold of his shoulders, neither of us saying a word as we surrendered to what felt natural. I was off my feet, my back against the wall beside the stairwell, my knees hitched at his hips as he found my entrance and thrust deep.
I moaned at the sensation of him filling me full.
I’d never felt anything quite like it.
He adjusted his grip, grabbing underneath both of my thighs as he pounded in and out of me. I circled my arms around his shoulders, wanting him close as I held on and sought out his kiss. He groaned into my mouth as he indulged me, not even remotely losing pace at my core.
With his tongue and his dick working simultaneously, it wasn’t long before I felt the bud of my growing orgasm. The bigger it grew, the warmer I got, the harder it was for me to breathe. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I ripped my lips away from his, panting as I lost myself in all he was giving me.
“Maverick,” I gasped as I arched my back away from the wall.
I suddenly wished I wasn’t wearing a bra.
I wished he wasn’t wearing everything .
“Come for me, babe,” he grunted.
I moved my hands to grip him behind his neck and begged, “Harder.”
He bucked his hips harder, and just like that, my breath caught, my body tensed, and my sex constricted around his length as I came on a loud moan.
I didn’t know how he managed it, but he made it so easy.
The way he turned me on. The way he stoked the passion within.
He grunted, letting go of one of my thighs in order to reach for my clit.
That’s when great got freaking unbelievable .
My orgasm got bigger, sending ripples of pleasure all over.
“Oh, shit ,” I cried.
I dropped my head, burying my face in Maverick’s neck as I reached up and submerged the fingers on my right hand in his hair, my left hand squeezing his nape. I curved my body inward, my legs clinging to his hips as my toes curled. I was still riding the wave of ecstasy when I felt him swell with his release. He jerked his hips twice as he came, staying buried as his body locked in a suspended moment of our shared fervor.
For a minute, maybe two or three, neither of us moved as we worked to catch our breath. It wasn’t until he pulled out of me, eliciting a whimper from my lips, that I lifted my head and sought out his gaze.
“You want more, give me a few, we’ll go again.”
It took me half a second to remember this was exactly what I asked for.
There was no doubt in my mind, if he was going to give it to me, I wanted it.
“Okay,” I breathed.
It took me another half second to remember how I’d asked for what he was now willing to give. It hadn’t been so long since our last exchange that I forgot how awful I felt watching him leave. I didn’t think I’d get my chance to make it right, but now that chance held me in his arms.
I wanted that, too.
“Are you hungry?” I asked before he could put me down.
“I could eat.”
“I was going to make stir-fry for dinner. Want some?”
“Sure.”
He put me down, yanked his pants up over his hips, then headed for the bathroom without another word. Safe to say, the dynamic between us had definitely been altered since I proposed we pursue a sexual relationship and not a romantic one. While I didn’t think he was putting on some grand show on our date, he’d been more open.
I’d closed that door, and therefore could not feel surprised by his behavior.
The click of the latch on the closed bathroom door snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked down at myself, standing in nothing but my bra, my clothes discarded at the top of the stairs, and my purse toppled over nearby. Feeling suddenly very exposed, I scooped up all my things and hurried for my bedroom. I dumped it all beside the bench at the foot of my bed, snatching up my panties to put them back on. I then went to my closet to don my little pink robe.
I heard it when Maverick exited the bathroom, and I stared at my empty doorway as I drew in a deep breath and let it out on a slow exhale.
We were going to do this. Friends-with-benefits . I thought I’d totally botched it, but Maverick was in my living room. He’d come for a fuck and we were going to go again after I made us dinner.
I nodded, accepting my current reality, and headed for the kitchen.
Maverick was again sitting on my couch, his feet propped up on my coffee table.
Only this time, he’d taken off his boots.
I had to admit—that checked a box.
However, I wasn’t sure our current arrangement warranted me keeping track of such things anymore.
I started to heat a pot of water for the rice first. Rather than watch while I waited for it to boil, I paced slowly back and forth across my small kitchen.
My kitchen was kitty-corner to my living room. In the space between them was my little dining area. Between my dining room and my living room was a partial wall with a cutout in the middle, opening the space and letting in the sunlight I got from my front windows. Since my couch was situated on the wall facing the stairs, it was far back enough that I couldn’t see it from my vantage point.
It also didn’t help that I’d hung three planters in the empty space left by the wall cutout, the draping leafy plants further obscuring any hope of a view.
Yet, out of sight was certainly not out of mind where Maverick was concerned.
It seemed we weren’t going to talk about how he’d left on Saturday, or how he’d broken into my house that evening. He’d offered me his body, and I’d taken it—greedily. The sex, in and of itself, was an agreement of sorts. Except, I didn’t want our relationship to be purely transactional.
I knew he was interested in more and settling for less, but I didn’t want him to feel like I was using him. I didn’t want to be that kind of woman. He was a man, not an object, and I wanted him to know I understood that. I wanted to be friends.
That was part of the deal.
Friends-with-benefits were friends .
It was important to me we were on the same page about that, and I knew the ball was in my court. I’d start with an apology dinner.
While the rice cooked, I tossed together the rest of our meal. It was nearly nine by the time I’d filled two plates and headed for the dining room table.
“It’s ready,” I called out, returning to the kitchen to grab us silverware.
It felt a bit surreal to sit down to dinner with Maverick at my table—him in socked feet, me in hardly more than a light, cotton robe. In an effort to make it feel more normal, I decided it was time to strike up a conversation.
“So, we got a new doctor at the hospital today. It’s always interesting, breaking in a new one. I mean, he’s not new —but he’s new to our ER.”
Maverick didn’t even look up from his plate before he muttered, “Jenna, we don’t need to talk.”
His words hit me hard, right in the gut, but I wasn’t going to give up that easily.
“Wrong,” I insisted.
When he still didn’t look up, but shoveled another bite onto his fork, I grabbed the edge of his plate and snatched it out of reach.
This earned me his attention. His brown eyes—cool and impassive—met mine.
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry about how I handled things on Saturday. But you can’t come in here and fuck me and not accept my attempts at an apology. You said I wasn’t as different as I thought I was, and maybe you’re right. I don’t know what a sheep is, but I don’t want to be one. I want us to be friends. If we’re going to do this, can’t we at least be that much to each other?”
He let a beat of silence pass between us before he asked, “You gonna give me my plate back?”
“Depends. Are you going to talk to me while we eat?” I snapped in return.
I watched as a spark of amusement caught in his eyes. It was there and gone in a flash, but I’d seen it. I didn’t dare look away from him, stubbornly holding my ground.
Finally, he said, “You talk about the doc like he’s a puppy.”
A small smile pulled at my lips as he grabbed hold of his plate and dragged it back in front of him. I took this to mean two things; he liked my cooking, and we could be friends.
Old habits die hard, which meant I’d mentally checked a box for the former as I relished in the latter.
“Not a puppy, just new ,” I attempted to explain. “He doesn’t know us. We’re like a well-oiled machine, and he’s a new part.”
“Hmm,” Maverick hummed in response, consuming another bite.
I took a bite myself, wondering if he’d pick up the conversation where I’d left it. When he didn’t, I tried again.
“What about you? Anything interesting on your end?”
“Interesting? No. Replaced a timing belt this afternoon. Not that I suspect you know anything about that.”
I sat up straighter and teasingly replied, “Hey, I’m not that much of a girl. I grew up on a farm, remember? I learned how to drive on a tractor when I was thirteen.”
He raised his eyebrows at me. “Okay. My bad.”
“That’s right. I know a few things about machines with motors. I can change my own tire and everything.”
This earned me a smirk, and I smiled victoriously.
We didn’t talk too much as we each cleaned our plates, but the ice had been broken, and I felt pretty good about that. When we were finished eating, it was Maverick who got up and took our plates to the sink. On his way out of the kitchen, he shrugged off his kutte and hung it on the back of one of my chairs.
Then, without any preamble, he was headed for the hallway as he said, “Bed this time.”
There was still work to be done on the friend part, but we were building a solid track record at the benefits part, which was why I didn’t hesitate to follow after him.
Verdict was still out on whether or not my behavior could be considered slutty —but he was the best I’d ever had, and one night hadn’t been nearly enough.
Round two was, indeed, in the bed.
We were both naked.
I decided I liked that best.
My two orgasms were blissful proof.
Naked and in bed was how Maverick left me an hour later.
Only this time, before I watched him leave, he winked at me in farewell.