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Mr. Jenkins eyes found me. “You his girlfriend yet?” Before I could reply, the man looked to Jude. “You need to make that girl yours.”
Jude chuckled, his dark hair brushing against his forehead. He looked to me, his eyes sparkling and something stirred in my stomach. “Don’t worry, Mr. Jenkins. She’s mine.”
“Good,” the man seemed to ease, “I better be invited to the wedding.”
Jude and I both laughed at that. Jude turned to me. “Is tomorrow too soon for a wedding?”
“Probably,” I shrugged. “And Vegas is a bit too far away.”
“Well darn,” he hung his head as if he was truly upset with this fact. “Looks like we’re not getting married anytime soon Mr. Jenkins,” Jude sighed. “I guess you better keep kicking so you can be there.”
“Don’t worry boy,” Mr. Jenkins stifled a cough, “if the war couldn’t take me, this cold ain’t either.”
Jude chuckled. “That’s the right mindset to have.” Turning to me, he said, “Mr. Jenkins fought in WWII.”
“You did?” I asked, my interest piquing. I’d always been a closet history dork, even attending the local Civil War reenactments once a year. History Channel was my best friend when I was home alone.
The man nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I was a fighter pilot.”
“That’s amazing,” I gasped. I completely forgot about Jude being there and sat down in one of the empty chairs. I proceeded to ask Mr. Jenkins any and all questions I could think of. I completely forgot about this being Jude’s job. I was far too interested in learning facts straight from the source.
Eventually though Jude had to pull me away.
“I hope I get to see you again,” I told Mr. Jenkins, waving from the doorway. Jude’s rotation was almost always different, but he tended to see each patient at least twice a week.
“You take care now, sweetheart,” Mr. Jenkins voice carried to me as the door closed.
Jude dragged me down the hall, opened a door, and pushed me inside. It was a storage closet. Lovely. He was probably pissed at me for taking so long to talk to Mr. Jenkins. Frankly I couldn’t blame him, but—
My thoughts were cut off when his mouth covered mine. My back bumped into one of the shelves, knocking cleaning supplies to the ground with a crash. Jud
e didn’t seem to mind, or to care about the attention it may draw.
He grasped my thighs, forcing my legs around his waist. “You’re so fucking hot,” he breathed between kisses.
“What’d I do?” I panted, my lips fighting to keep up with his.
“It’s just you,” he nipped my bottom lip, “you’re amazing.”
I was still lost as to what had prompted this kiss-a-thon but I decided not to think too much about it and enjoy myself instead.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips bucking against mine, his hard length blatantly obvious, “I want you so bad. Only you. Only ever you.”
We panted and clawed at each other like wild animals. It was like we couldn’t get close enough.
I kissed him deeply, pushing forward and taking control. My fingers yanked at his hair and he growled low in his throat. God I loved that sound.
He let me go and my feet connected with the floor. Then I was pushing him back and this time his back hit one of the shelves.
I’d never been so out of control and uncontained before.
His hands came up to cup my cheeks and he slowed the kiss to more gentle levels. I still knew my lips would be tender and swollen later, but it was worth it and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Somehow my hands had found their way under his scrub shirt and his smooth skin was scorching against my palms.
I couldn’t find it in me to be embarrassed though.
I looked up at him, refusing to let any nervousness show. “I want you,” I gasped, still out of breath from our kiss. “All of you,” I added in case he didn’t catch my meaning.
