Copyright 2017 by Desni Dantone
Unedited and subject to change
“You ever think about being a nurse?” I asked as she tugged my jeans up over my hips.
“Hmm.” I stared at her fingers while they pulled my zipper up, and wished they were pulling it down instead. “Because you would make a good one.”
She glanced up at me, brows pinched. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shrugged. “What guy hasn’t fantasized about sleeping with his hot nurse?”
“Jesus, Dylan.” She sighed. “You were just shot. You’ve had surgery . . . performed by a man who isn’t a licensed surgeon, with instruments used for spaying and neutering animals, and you’re thinking about sex?”
“I’m always thinking about sex.” I flashed her my patented grin. It didn’t work.
She shook head, and resumed putting my pants on. “Take it up with Doc, because I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be doing anything strenuous for a few weeks.”
“A few weeks? Oh, hell no. That’s not happening. Once I can move without gasping for air, we’re going to replay this scenario—only with the clothes coming off.”
The partition snapped open behind me. “That’s nice. I really wanted to hear that.”
“Jake.” I tipped my chin over my shoulder. “Impeccable timing, as always.”