Loving the Nurse by Piper Sullivan

Gus

“Antonio. What are you doing here?” It was a nice surprise to open the door and find the sexy chef on my doorstep wearing a sultry smile that went perfectly with his jeans and white t-shirt, a look that only made his tattoos look more vibrant and stunning.

He leaned forward with heat in his eyes, bracing muscled arms on my doorframe. “I came to see you. To say hi. Hi.” His voice was low and deep, and hit me right between the thighs, just as he intended no doubt.

“Hi.” His bold moves always made me feel like a shy girl, but the heat in his gaze reminded me that I was all woman. “Want to come in?”

Antonio nodded as he stepped inside, his chest brushed against mine which forced me to move back. His lips pulled into a smile that grew closer and closer before his mouth crashed down over mine. His kiss was hot and hungry, his hands held my face like I was someone he cherished, like I meant something to him.

I groaned at the way his tongue tangled with mine and slid my hands up and across his strong back, let my fingers explore the ridges of muscle and bone until my finger tips curled into his thick, dark hair. “Hi.” That one word came out breathless. And happy. “How was New York?”

“Good.”

“Good?” I folded my arms. “That’s all I get?” I didn’t expect him to open his heart up to me, but a little conversation wasn’t out of the question. Was it?

“Nope. I’ll tell you everything. Over dinner.” He took a step backwards and returned to the porch to pick up two canvas sacks. “I’m cooking.”

“How can I turn down a meal cooked by a handsome chef?”

His lips twitched before he unleashed a crooked smile that had the butterflies in my stomach doing somersaults. “A handsome professional chef, you mean?”

“Yeah, all that,” I told him with a wave of my hands. “The kitchen is that way.”

“Oh, I remember exactly where the kitchen is. And the living room.” His gaze fell on the sofa as he passed the living room, and he no doubt had the same thoughts I had whenever I looked the sofa since our night together. “Can’t forget that sofa. Ever.”

Yeah, I couldn’t either. Unfortunately. This thing wouldn’t last forever, but that sofa was just two years old and I didn’t want to think of Antonio every time I looked at it. “Kitchen, straight ahead.”

He laughed again. “How do you feel about dumplings?”

“I love them. What kind?”

“Shrimp and pork. I’ll teach you how to make the wrappers, it’s easy.”

“Easy,” I rolled my eyes. “You chefs always say that, and so rarely is anything involving dough easy. So rarely.”

“Trust me?”

I nodded because I did trust Antonio, at least when it came to food. The way my heart raced as he smiled at me, and my thighs tightened when he licked his lips, told me that I couldn’t trust him or me when it came to my heart. “Fine. Beer?”

“Isn’t that how we ended up naked last time?”

“No,” I laughed. “Pretty sure it was because I threatened to pick you up, and that, for some reason, got you all hot and bothered.”

“It wasn’t the threat, it was the woman.” The heat in his gaze sent a shiver down my spine and I went to the fridge, stuck my head inside for a long moment before I pulled back with two beers.

“So, tell me about New York.”

“Bossy. I like it.” Antonio smiled and unloaded the ingredients on my counter before he got to work and I settled on one of the stools on the opposite side of the island. I settled in to enjoy the sight of him at work. “New York was short and sweet. I filmed a cooking segment with Wallace Young, which was pretty amazing.”

“The guy who mixes cuisine types to create crazy dishes?”

“You know him? Yeah, he’s a crazy son of a bitch, but also a genius.” The fondness and awe in his voice told me a lot about Antonio as a chef.

“You really are one of those dig your hands in the dirt and taste leaves kind of chef, aren’t you?” I pegged him all wrong, at least on that account. “The real deal.”

“Disappointed?”

“No. Yes. Maybe.” The fact that he was genuine would make it harder to keep my distance, but it was good to know he wasn’t just some leather-clad, tattooed poser.

“Good.”

I took a long pull from my beer bottle and sighed. “Yeah? Why?”

“Because it means you’re seeing me in a different light. And because it’s giving me some insight into who you are, Augusta.”

“Me? I’m an open book.”

“Not all the time. I know you’re a nurse who works with children, you care a lot and you’re a smart ass. Other than Ollie being your dad, I know almost nothing about you. Do you have a mother?”

I laughed. “Don’t we all?”

He dipped his head and gave me a look.

“Okay, yes I have a mother. She walked out when I was twelve years old and I haven’t seen her since.”

His hands stopped moving. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is that why you understand Rosie?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. But I am kind of an expert in children, specifically sick children whose parents find it difficult to let them grow up too soon.”

“You’re right about that, I want to keep her a little girl for as long as possible.”

“I know, but dealing with illness as a kid, no matter who’s illness, makes you grow up a little faster.” Many times it was unavoidable, but even when it was, there was no way to stop a child from maturing too fast with mature situations to deal with everyday.

“Sounds like you speak from personal experience.”

I sighed and nodded. My childhood wasn’t something I talked about to most people, but Antonio had been honest with me about the breakdown of his marriage, his fears about Rosie. I could do this.

“My father fell into a bottle when my mom walked out on us, or maybe she walked out because of his drinking, I’m not sure. All I know is that it worsened after she left, and it was up to me to take care of all the things he couldn’t or wouldn’t. I grew up fast and it made me independent, paying bills, keeping the house presentable, signing report cards, and pretty much anything I could to avoid being put in foster care.”

“That sounds rough.” He was sympathetic but not surprised, and that surprised me.

“It was an experience, for sure. It taught me how to take care of myself, to rely on myself. But it also led to years of estrangement between me and Dad. He resented me for what I did, and I resented him for putting me in that position.” I hated to think about that time, of losing touch with my only family and being truly alone for the first time in my life. “But things are better now. With him here in town, he seems happy and I’m happy to have him in my life again.”

“Are you?”

“Yep. I asked him to move here because I wanted a chance to fix things between us. For both of us.”

“Did you ask because he’s sober now?”

I blinked. “Who said he was sober?”

“I worked in the restaurant industry, Augusta, you think I don’t know an addict when I see one? I never would have let Ollie take care of her if he was still drinking.”

“Right, of course not. You knew.”

He nodded. “I did.”

“But, how?”

Antonio broke the rhythmic moves of stuffing and folding dumplings and looked at me. “Ollie leads a single parent support group at the community center and he talks openly about his mistakes.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Being a single parent is hard, and it’s even harder when you have obstacles like a sick kid or an addict in the family. It’s damn hard.” He shook his head, and shoulders fell with what seemed like regret. “It took me too long to make the decision to leave the long hours in the kitchen behind for Rosie’s sake. If I was a better man, a better father it would have been a no-brainer.”

“Maybe.” I understood where he was coming from. In the hospital there are rarely good choices, only the less bad option. “But how would you have taken care of Rosie and her healthcare bills without a job? Kids require money and resources, and sick kids need even more.”

He flashed another of those heart stopping smiles and nodded. “True, but I should have been working on a way to earn a living outside the kitchen much sooner than I did. As soon as I found her half-dead with Trishelle.”

“Well, you made the choice in the end, and Rosie is better for it. Isn’t that what matters?”

“I suppose.” He didn’t want the compliment, which only meant he deserved it more. The man who was usually so arrogant, couldn’t take a compliment on his skills and choices as a parent. Was there anything hotter than a man who wanted nothing more than to be a good dad?

“Trust me?”

He smiled. “Sure thing. In fact, I’m trusting you to make the dipping sauce.”

“Me?”

He nodded. “It’s only fair, right?”

“I don’t know about fair, but I’m always up for learning a new dipping sauce. Tell me what to do, chef.”

His gaze darkened and he licked his lips. “I love it when you talk dirty to me, Augusta.” He barked out a laugh when I rolled my eyes at him. “Okay, first step, take off your shirt.”

I knew he was joking, but I did it anyway. “Okay. Next step?”

“Augusta,” he growled.

“Did you forget the next step, Chef?”

His gaze darkened and he put his hands on his hips, eyes focused on my cleavage. “Pants.”

Feeling bold, I kept my eyes on him as I slid them over my hips and down my legs. “Next.”

Antonio let out a low growl and turned away from me, gripping the edge of the sink like he was searching for restraint. That was the exact opposite of what I wanted from him in the moment. He turned on the hot water and washed his hands for almost a full minute before he turned back to me. “Holy shit, Augusta.”

I stood there with my hands on my hips, wearing nothing but a smile. “What should I do next, Chef?”

He licked his lips and closed the distance between us quickly. “Me.” He devoured my mouth and lifted me in the air, gripped my ass until I wrapped my legs around him.

“Gladly,” I growled and took control of the kiss. Feeling bold and sexy, I kissed him long and hard, ground my hips against him until his control snapped.

Antonio carried me to the bedroom and tossed me on the bed, eyes fixed on the jiggle of my breasts. It was tantalizing, being the sole focus of that heated gaze. I wanted to see him lose control, and I did everything in my power to make it happen.

He was so beautiful, face twisted in erotic agony as I took him in my mouth. I watched him carefully as I pleased him, every swipe of my tongue, every suck, giving me the key to driving him crazy.

By the time I straddled his hips and rode his cock, Antonio finally gave me what I wanted. His control snapped and his big hands gripped me hard, almost too hard, as he pounded up into me. His mouth scrambled to taste my skin, his hands kneaded and squeezed my breasts as they bounced with every stroke.

It was so good, so all-encompassing that I could hardly stand it. I felt my walls crumbling with the pleasure, the words he spoke as pleasure swamped him. “So good, babe. So fucking good,” he growled and held me close to him, his strokes hit me so deep I saw stars.

His teeth sank into the crook of my neck and I came harder than I ever had before.