Loving the Nurse by Piper Sullivan

Gus

“Pizza is fine. Pizza is more than fine considering he just invited himself to dinner.” I stood at the kitchen counter, covered in flour while I chatted with Megan.

“You could have said no,” she offered with a hint of humor in her voice. “But you agreed, so some part of you must want to entertain him for a night. Maybe more.”

I scoffed. “I just figured that agreeing would end whatever this is sooner rather than later.”

“I don’t know, Gus. It sounds like it might be the beginning to me.” Megan’s sing-song tone made me smile despite myself as I wrapped the pizza dough to let it rise while I showered and got changed.

“Beginning of what? Antonio’s newfound interest in me is out of boredom, and it will pass soon enough.” I wasn’t sure of much when it came to Antonio Ricci, but I was certain that his interest in me wouldn’t last.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Megan offered on a sigh. “I’ve known Antonio most of my life so don’t let the bad boy image fool you. He’s sweet and kind, and more than capable of commitment.”

“Oh please, Megan. Even if I believed that, I’ve seen photos of his ex-wife. If, and that’s a big if, Antonio settles down again, it’ll be with someone beautiful and glamorous, not someone spends most of her days in scrubs.”

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous and you know it. More importantly, Antonio seems to know it, so why don’t you just enjoy having the attention of a handsome man, and maybe get yourself laid in the process.”

“That’s just what I plan to do, eat some good pizza, drink a beer or two, all while I have some Grade A eye candy to ogle while I do it.”

“Good girl,” Megan replied. “Tell me the details tomorrow over coffee?”

“Sure.”

Almost two hours later, I was freshly showered, dressed in snug but relaxed fit jeans with a hole in one thigh, a pink t-shirt and flip flops. It was feminine but casual, because I didn’t want to look like I was trying to look good and I didn’t want Antonio to think that.

The dough had risen and the pizza ingredients were just about ready to go, salami, onions, mushrooms and bell peppers with three types of cheese. A six pack of beer sat chilling in the fridge and the butterflies in my stomach were mostly under control.

The dough was pre-cooking in the oven when the doorbell rang and I let out a long exhale. Antonio’s face met me with a smile when the door opened.

“Casual, but sexy,” he growled. “I approve.”

I rolled my eyes and took a step back. “Great, now I can die a happy woman.”

“Happy,” he purred and stepped inside with a predatory grin. “But not satisfied. Not yet.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re always on, aren’t you?”

“Not always, no. There’s just something about you that brings out the flirt in me, Augusta.”

“The kitchen is straight back, just follow the smell.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Ah, the important stuff. Right?”

“Damn straight. Food is what fuels us, what stimulates us. It’s what brings us together.”

“Wow, a poet too? Now I am impressed.” I didn’t expect him to speak so eloquently about food. I guess I figured he just cooked because he was good at it, but it seemed like cooking and creating dishes was just part of who Antonio is.

“I am more than just a pretty face, Augusta. Sooner or later you’ll figure that out.” His long legs carried him straight to the stove to inspect the ingredients that sat warming on the stove. “Pizza? I approve.”

“Be still my beating heart.” I didn’t make pizza to please him, I made it just to make sure he wasn’t impressed. “Pizza was what I had time for, but I did make the dough. My teacher said to let it rise for three hours but I’m a working woman and ninety minutes got the job done.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” The teasing glint in his eyes made my belly clinch and pulse, a sensation I ignored.

“Even bad pizza is good pizza, right?” I crossed to the fridge, eager for a break from the eye candy I was so hungry for just a few moments ago. “Beer?”

“Sure. I brought amber ale, what do you have?”

I shrugged. “German black beer. Which do you want?”

“I’ll try yours first.”

I turned to the fridge and let the chill from within do its thing for my overheated skin. The weight of Antonio’s gaze, even when I was looking back, was heavy like a lover’s grope. I took my time reaching for two bottles of beer, letting out a silent sigh before turning to face him again.

“Here we go, two beers while the pizza bakes.”

“Thanks. How was your day, Augusta?”

I blinked, confused by the switch from flirt to gent. “Um, good?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I’m not a monster, you know.”

“I know. It’s just, you don’t seem like the how’s your day sort of guy,” I told him honestly. “My day was good. Busy as it always is, but I didn’t get puked or peed on, and one of the long-term patients was discharged, so it was not bad overall. How was yours?”

Antonio leaned forward with a slow smile. “Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to be surprised along with the rest of my…fans?”

“Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Damn that smile was as irresistible as they came, especially when its full force was directed right at me. “Just admit that you like me.”

“What’s not to like, Antonio? I like looking at you, and listening to you talk. I like watching you cook. I even like sparring with you.”

“I hear a but coming.”

“But,” I started and raised both eyebrows. “You’re a heartbreaker.”

“I’m not,” he insisted. Antonio shook his head, a bittersweet smile on his gorgeous face. “In fact, the last time I let my heart get involved, it was my heart that got broken.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he shot back with another smile. “I loved Trishelle, at least I thought I did. Turns out she loved drugs more than she ever loved me or Rosie.”

I listened, rapt, as he told me all about his marriage to Trishelle. “But she seems to put together.”

“That’s the Hollywood lie. A coat of face paint and some designer clothes can make anyone seem like they have their shit together, especially with a high dollar production crew on the job.” His tone turned bitter. “I was foolish enough to think she’d settled down after we were married, but it got worse. And then it got better, when she was pregnant with Rosie.”

“That’s good,” I offered, but I already knew their love story ended in divorce which meant clearly something had gone badly wrong.

“It was. Until it wasn’t. At first she loved being a mom, Rosie was her little doll to dress up and photograph all day long. Until the asthma problems began. Then she couldn’t or wouldn’t, cope.” His brown eyes slammed shut, like he was stuck in the past, reliving those memories. “I found her overdosed on the sofa while Rosie was blue in the face from lack of oxygen. My heart broke thinking my little girl would die, and then to think the woman I loved, my wife, was responsible? It killed me.”

I couldn’t help it, I reached out to Antonio. Perhaps it was the nurse in me who couldn’t stand to see another person in so much pain, or maybe it was the sight of this big strong man, near tears over his precious little daughter.

“Rosie is all good now and she’s where she belongs, with her daddy.”

Antonio nodded and took a moment to get himself back under control. He was probably already regretting he’d shared so much. “You’re right, she is where she belongs. And I love to hear you say ‘daddy’.”

Thankfully the oven timer sounded in all of its loud, obnoxious glory. “Saved by the buzzer.”

“The buzzer is temporary. Daddy is forever.”

I froze at his words, at just how ridiculous he was, but I knew it was for my benefit. An overt attempt on his part to lighten the mood. And I understood. More than that, I laughed. Hard and loud and long, I laughed until I doubled over with it while the buzzer continued to sound just a few feet away. “You, are…,” I gasped but the laughter was uncontrollable and I couldn’t speak.

Antonio’s chair scraped against the floor and a moment later, he brushed past me. “I’m hilarious? Handsome? Sexy as hell? Thank you.”

“You’re delusional, my friend.”

He turned to me in surprise. “We’re friends? Good to know.” Antonio turned away again, and I realized what he was doing, and that stopped my laughter.

“Hey, that’s my dinner you’re screwing up over there!”

“Screwing up? You have a famous chef in your kitchen, and you think I’ll be the one to screw things up?”

“Damn right.”

“Well you were too busy laughing it up, and now I’m over here. What are you going to do, pick me up and move me out of your way?” There was a hint of challenge and a hint of teasing in the way he looked at me, the way he folded his arms as if I couldn’t move him.

“I could pick you up and move you. If I wanted to. But I wouldn’t want to bruise your fragile male ego.”

“I can handle it. So can my ego.”

“That’s what you say now, but when your feet are off the ground you’ll be grumbling a different tune.”

I knew, instantly, it was a mistake to challenge Antonio’s manhood. He closed the distance between us, pizza dough and topping totally forgotten as he got in my face, stood toe-to-toe with me.

“Go ahead, Augusta. Do it.”

“I will.” I could. If I wanted to.

“I’m waiting.” Heat flared in his eyes and I wondered if it was the thought of me picking him up or if he felt the heat and electricity that swirled between us. “Tick tock, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” I sucked in a breath and before I could let it out, Antonio’s thick lips were pressed against mine, his big hands, warm through my t-shirt, settled on my shoulders for a brief moment before sliding down my arms to my waist. They came to a stop at my hips and he pulled me close, slid his tongue back and forth across the seam of my lips, gently begging me to let him in.

I thought about it while I savored the feel of his capable mouth and talented hands gripping me like I was the irresistible one. I could lean into this kiss. I could keep my eyes closed and just go with the flow, take what he was offering, what I wanted, without looking back.

Yeah, that sounded nice.

Hell, it sounded right.

Why couldn’t I end my dry spell with Antonio? He wasn’t looking for serious, and it didn’t have to be. It could just be fun, or like Antonio said, pleasure for the sake of pleasure. I hadn’t had any pleasure, at least none brought by a living, breathing male, in a long time. And even then, he wasn’t nearly as masculine or as potent as the man who’d slipped between my lips on a breathless sigh.

His big hands slid from my hips to my ass, and he pulled me right up against the long hard ridge of his erection. Antonio kissed me deeper, his touches grew hungrier and harder.

I pulled back and smiled, looked up at him with wide eyes. “Antonio,” I panted.

“Right here, Augusta. Right here and ready for another taste.”

Oh yeah, he was ready all right. His brown eyes were dark with desire, his nostrils flared and his hands gripped my hips tighter and tighter, the feel of his cock pressed against my stomach teased me. Tempted me.

Holy hell did it tempt me!

He stood there, patient while I decided whether to pump the brakes or slam on the gas. His hands moved up, and his thumbs found an exposed strip of flesh between my shirt and waistband, and teased me. “Fuck,” I growled and jumped in his arms, not self-conscious about whether or not he could hold me, just determined to get another taste for myself.

While he steadied himself and gripped my waist, I held his face and devoured his mouth, tasting every corner until I was satisfied I had it memorized. My tongue slid across his straight teeth, the ridges on the roof of his mouth, the bumps and grooves on his tongue, every inch left me hot.

Bothered.

Turned on.

Tantalized.

“Augusta,” he growled when he ripped his mouth from mine and smiled. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Yeah?” Even in my haze of lust it was hard to believe, but I felt just how hard he was between my thighs.

“Hell yeah.”

“Good, because this is happening.”

Those words were just what Antonio needed to hear. His feet began to move, to carry us towards the living room where he laid me on the sofa and stared down at me. “You sure?”

I nodded. There was a brief hitch of hesitation, but I shoved it down deep. This wasn’t about a crush or a future, it was about the here and now. It was about pleasure. “Absolutely sure.”

“Good.” His hands went to my button and then my zipper, and soon he yanked my jeans down my hips. “I knew you were a frilly lingerie type of girl.”

“Did you?”

“I imagined you were, but sheer pink panties? I didn’t imagine these.” His fingertips slid under and just traced the seam of my thigh until I shook and panted with desire. “I can see your plump pussy lips, and a little strip of hair, it’s making me hard.”

“You’re already hard.”

“Harder,” he growled and stood so his erection was eye level.

“I see.” My hand went to the bulge in his jeans and I rubbed it, gently at first, but faster and harder when I felt more confident. Bolder. “I can feel it too.”

“Augusta,” he growled and I wrapped my hand tighter around his denim covered erection.

“Antonio.” His jaws were clenched tight and I liked it. A lot. I reveled in knowing that I was the one bringing him to the brink of madness. He stared at me for so long that I started to feel bold and sexy. I slid one hand down to my panties, inside them, and found myself wet and swollen. One slip of my finger and my hips bucked off the sofa.

“Augusta,” he dropped to his knees, replacing my hand with his. “Such a wet little pussy. So fucking plump too.” I was about to object to his use of the word plump, but his next words stopped me dead. “Those fat lips will feel so good brushing against my cock when I pump into you.”

“Yes, please.” The words came out husky and breathless, surely they couldn’t belong to me. I didn’t get breathless over men.

“Please. I like that.” He yanked off my panties and spread my legs so he could gaze down at my most intimate spot. “So pink. So pretty,” he whispered before he slid one finger deep into me, smiling when my back arched from the sensation. He added another finger and smiled. “What a tight little pussy.”

He talked so much, and damn him, I couldn’t deny the dirty talk turned me on as much as his fingers. “It’s been…a while.”

“How long?”

“A while,” I shot back, reluctant to discuss that now. Or ever.

“So you really need to cum?”

“I would like very much to cum, Antonio.”

He teased me with shallow pumps, his thumb grazed over my clit so swiftly I might have imagined the touch. “You’re close.”

“I’m not,” I insisted because I wasn’t. It took me ages to get off, probably why most men stopped trying after a while.

“You are,” he shot back and leaned forward until his breath fanned the strip of hair I kept neat and tidy even though no one but me had seen it in half a year. Then his mouth was on me, his tongue flicked over my clit while his fingers thrust in and out at a frenetic pace that suffused my body with heat.

“Antonio,” I moaned as my fingers found themselves tangled in his thick dark hair, my hips rolled against the touch of his mouth.

He responded with a growl that sent vibrations all the way up my spine, and a moment later his lips and tongue sucked my clit. The dueling sensations of soft lips and tongue combined with thrusting fingers was more than enough to send me right over the edge. In a minute, maybe two. “Yeah, I knew you were close.”

“You didn’t know anything. You guessed.”

“I knew,” he insisted and swirled his tongue around my clit one final time, a move that made my hips buck again. He smiled and sat back with a smug look on his face before he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. “You were so slick, and your clit so swollen, I knew you were close.”

“It usually takes me longer.”

“That’s because I’m not usually here.”

“Arrogant.”

“Confident.”

“Right.” I rolled my eyes and sat up, or tried to, but Antonio put a hand to my chest and pushed me back down. “What are you doing?”

He flashed another of those animalistic smiles and took of my t-shirt and bra before he stood. “I’m about to give you what we both want, Augusta.”

I swallowed at the sight of Antonio, undressing in my living room. He was built as hell, long lean muscles and colorful tattoos everywhere. “You’re beautiful.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“Right back atcha, babe.” He winked before he covered my body with his. “I’ll go slow just in case you can’t handle it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh!” But dammit, he was right. Antonio was big. And thick. And I really liked it. A lot. “I can handle it if you can.”

“You’re…tight,” he grunted as his cock sank deeper to the point of discomfort. “All right?”

“More than,” I assured him and tightened my thighs around his waist, digging my heels into his tight ass. “Yeah, I’m all right.”

“Excellent.” He grunted again when I tightened and pulsed around him to assure him I could handle what he wanted to give me. Pleasure, and his big fat cock.

Watching Antonio was even more erotic than watching him cook. His brows were bunched in focus, jaws clenched with restraint even as he stroked slow and deep into me. He filled me up deliciously, so thick I could hardly breathe, and I wanted it. All of it. “More, Antonio. Give me more.” His strokes were still slow and deep, so I did what any woman would. “Please.” I begged.

“Augusta,” he growled in my ear. “You know what that does to me.”

“I do.”

He smiled and pushed at the back of my thighs, pumping harder and deeper from this new angle and I thought I might die from the sensations ricocheting around my body. He was a work of art, bunching and flexing as he pounded into me.

“Yes!” I reached out and gripped his thigh as I fought to keep my eyes open because I didn’t want to miss one moment of this .

He smiled and let my legs fall so he could lean over, lick my breasts as he thrust into me over and over. Fast and hard and deep, exactly what I needed. “Fuck. Augusta.”

Unbelievably, another orgasm approached, fast and intense. My fingertips dug deep into him and I arched into him, tightened my legs around him. “Antonio!” Pleasure crashed over me like a wave, weighing me down while each wave came one right after the other.

All the while, Antonio’s hips never stopped. He thrusted and pounded, harder, until a telltale growl erupted from deep within him. “Augusta.” He collapsed on top of me, his hips still moved in slow shallow strokes.

“Wow. Just…wow.”

He laughed against me, the sound bouncing from his chest to mine and back again until my nipples hardened and I convulsed around him. “I’ll take wow and give one right back to you. That was better than my dreams. Almost.”

“Almost?”

He nodded. “In my dreams I watched while you sucked me off.”

I sucked in a breath at his words, the image immediately at the forefront of my mind. Me down on my knees while he sat here on the sofa, dark eyes flaring with heat and desire. Dark and hungry. Pleasure for pleasure’s sake, I reminded myself and smiled.

“Maybe after pizza, you’ll get your wish.”

“Is that the oven I hear?”

Totally naked with him still buried in me, I laughed.

Antonio groaned as I squeezed around him involuntarily. “Augusta.”

“I was promised pizza. Get to work, chef.” I gave his ass a smack and Antonio laughed.

“Now you want me to screw up your pizza?”

I nodded. “You managed to get this part right, I’m sure you can trust you with a bit of dough.”

He smiled at the challenge and leaned forward to lick a trail of heat across my jaw. “I can handle more than the pizza,” he growled and I felt him harden inside of me.

Thirty, maybe forty minutes later, we got around to the pizza.

And later, we got around to fulfilling another fantasy for us both.