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Kimber releases a nervous laugh. “Yes, but why are you so shocked by that?”
“Because I named him Cruise the Cucumber. What are the odds?” What, indeed. My dick is raging hard and I can’t for the life of me force myself to move. Another nurse greets me and then tells me a man burned his hand and is waiting for me. I’ve never been so eager to move on to another patient in my life. As I’m walking away, I hear Journi ask, “Have you ever watched the movie Top Gun?”
Chapter 3
Journi
I haven’t once stopped thinking about the sexy ER doctor since arriving back at the cabin. I’ve had a lot of sexual partners, but nothing can compare to what that man did with his fingers. And it wasn’t intentional. Imagine what he can do when he’s trying… A shiver runs through me. And when he called it a cumcumber. With those sparkling honey brown eyes and that deep voice. No. I need help. I’m fantasizing about my doctor who gave me an orgasm while removing a cucumber from my allergy-swollen vagina.
In my defense, my dating history could be turned into a horror mini-series. The playboy who couldn’t get it up unless a fan was on. I’m not sure I ever want to know the reasoning behind that. I tried dating an employee one time, but after she got an autograph from her idol she broke up with me. Speaking of rock legends, I dated one who liked to snort coke off my breasts and then pass out. Then there was this heiress who demanded I massage and kiss her feet, and asked me to hold the brush of her nail polish with my teeth to paint her nails. Needless to say, that didn’t last long. The list goes on of failed relationships. Everything from demanding partners to the ones who didn’t care enough to expect anything. People who wanted me for what they could use me for, to ones who only found me as convenient. Especially my clients from the store who are my most convenient dating finds.
But I’m to the point now that finding a decent partner is exhausting. Jan was probably right. I needed this time away from the city. My phone dings as soon as I step inside the cabin. I notice the battery is low, and make a mental note to put it on the charger after I check in with Jan.
JAN: How’s it going? Did you get settled okay?
I burst out laughing. This is a conversation that warrants more than a simple text. I press the Call button, but then my phone dies. Great. I really thought it could make it through a call, but clearly nothing is going my way tonight. That call will have to wait. It’s probably for the best, though, because I feel icky after being inside the hospital. In fact, now’s a perfect time for a middle-of-the-night shower. Grabbing my bag of bathroom essentials, I head for a much-needed cleanse.
A noise outside the door startles me awake. I look around the pitch-black room. I’m lying on the bed still wearing just a towel. I must’ve crashed right after my shower, considering I didn’t even bother to get dressed.
The sound of a door closing has me on high alert. That’s a door here. Oh, my God, Jason is inside the cabin. I stand and clutch the cotton fabric of the towel closer to me and tiptoe out of the room. I strain my ears to listen for his signature sound ch-ch-ch… Though I don’t hear that, I do hear heavy footfalls against the hardwood floor. Shit, shit, shit. Somebody really is here! My eyes strain against the darkness in search of a weapon. They’re getting closer… What time is it? I can’t even tell if it’s daylight yet through the thick curtains.
The sound of someone walking pauses. “Hello?” It’s a male voice. A deep male voice, the exact type of voice a serial killer would have. Although, do burglars greet their victims? Obviously, it’s a psychopath. I try to blend into the wall as much as possible as I make my way out of the bedroom and down the hall. If I can reach my phone, I can call for help. Then I remember, it’s dead, like what I’m going to be if I don’t find a weapon soon.
A male silhouette steps into view from the lit bathroom. This is my chance. I’ll push him back into the bathroom and then barricade the door. Worst-case scenario, I have a razor, grooming scissors, or I can drown him. Ooh, or strangle him with floss, using it like a garrote like they do in movies. Maybe I’m the psychopath…
“Is someone h— OOF!”
My body collides with his back, but instead of pushing him inside, we both collapse onto the floor. I jump up to run but a hand grabs my ankle. I slip on a damp spot on the tile from my earlier shower. My knees hit the floor with a painful pop, and my towel comes undone. I try to grab it, but I’m more concerned with pushing myself off the floor and out this door. Large hands flip me over, and I yelp as I come nose to nose with…
Dr. Bryce.
He jumps off of me and stands up. His eyes are wide as he slowly shakes his head in disbelief. I lie there stunned. Then I sit up and scoot against the open door. “This is a dream. I’m dreaming. None of this makes sense, so obviously this is a dream, or a nightmare.”
Dr. Bryce briskly walks away, and I hear his heavy footfalls as he walks down the hallway. I grab my towel, and once it’s securely wrapped around my body, I walk out to the living room to find him pacing with a cell phone in his hand.
“You have one minute to explain yourself or I’m calling the police,” I tell him. My cell is dead, but he doesn’t know that.
“No. I’m calling the police. Now. You can explain yourself to them.”
I charge at him and try to grab the phone from his hand. “You broke in here!” How dare he try to call the police on me. I pause from struggling with him and then let go. “Wait!” I take a step back. Why am I arguing about calling the authorities when I need them? “Yeah. You call them! I want you to.”
“That’s the second time you’ve attacked me.” He leans down to meet my eyes. I don’t miss the way his eyes quickly glance down and then back up to focus on my lips.
“That’s because you’re still in my house. Well—my best friend’s house.”
He tilts his head and studies me. “What’s the name of your friend?”
“Jan.”
“Jan Crawford? Well, Jan Pattinson now.”
I gasp. “How do you know Jan?”
“Because her parents share this cabin with my parents. Our mothers are best friends and purchased it together.”
Oh. “Well, she’ll be here tomorrow. With her parents.” I’m acting like a child who is planning on tattling.
“And mine,” he deadpans.
