Untouchable (Unexpected Love Book 1) Page 2

  “Won’t you at least tell me your name?” I ask her. She feels her lips as if to check that they’re still there.

  Her expression morphs to embarrassment. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing. This isn’t me.” Then, she slips in front of a group of people leaving the club. She’s so short I can’t keep track of her.

  And that’s that.

  I had a stunning, sexy goddess in my arms and now she’s gone.

  Was she even real? Maybe I was daydreaming. I bring my fingers to my nose and inhale. Her musky scent is there and my cock throbs at the memory of her face when she came. Fuck. She was real, and now I’m standing here, alone, with a tent in my pants.

  Awesome.

  I head to the bathroom, wash my hands, splash some cold water on my face, and try to calm my revved-up body. Well, that was something.

  I scan the club for my friends. Charlie is on the dance floor tangled up with a tall blonde who is currently trying to climb on top of him; he looks like he’s having a good time, though. Logan is by the bar alone so I head that way.

  “Hey. You ready to go yet?” I ask him.

  “What happened to your hottie?” he asks.

  “She disappeared on me.” I sigh, trying to hide my disappointment.

  “What? Wait, I need to write this down. This may be the first time in history a girl pulled a disappearing act on you.” He laughs. The bastard. “Looked like she was into you. Did she run for the hills when you told her you’re a male nurse?” I’m not quite sure what he was able to see, but I don’t offer up the details of exactly what happened on the dance floor.

  We are out tonight to celebrate my new job. Yes, I am a nurse, and even though my friends like to give me shit about it, they’re proud of me. I’m the first person in my family to go to college, and I worked my ass off to get through school. Monday, I start my new job.

  “Fucker. No, she didn’t run away because of that.” I punch his arm. “And it’s not male nurse. I don’t call you a male computer programmer.” He chuckles and rubs his arm. “What about you? Where’s Tate tonight? She couldn’t meet us here?” Tate is Logan’s longtime girlfriend.

  “No. She wasn’t up for a loud club tonight. I’ll see her tomorrow, though.”

  “Bummer.” Tate’s a lot of fun, and Logan’s generally in a better mood when she’s around.

  “Want to find another hottie to celebrate with? Check that girl at two o’clock with the red shirt. She’s been staring at you.”

  I look over to see who he’s talking about. Yep, there is a chick with her boobs spilling out of a low-cut top making eyes at us, but she’s just…trying way too hard. Too much makeup, too little clothes, just…too much—not like the goddess I just had in my hands. She was understated, but hot as hell.

  Suddenly, I’m not in the mood to be here anymore. “Nah. I’m going to head out. Thanks for coming out tonight. Say bye to Charlie for me? I’m afraid to interrupt him in his current situation out there.”

  “I’m headed out too, then. Let’s just walk by Charlie and tell him we’re leaving.”

  We make our way through the bodies on the dance floor to get to him. Wow, the blonde is really trying to suck his face off. He catches my eye as we approach and tries to extricate himself from Miss Octopus Hands. “Don’t tell me you guys are leaving. What the fuck? It’s early.” Early being one AM.

  “Max’s hottie ran away because he’s a male nurse,” Logan tells him. “He’s depressed and needs to go home to jack off.”

  “Fucker!” I laugh as I punch Logan’s arm in the same spot as earlier, but harder this time. He just laughs and rubs his arm. I roll my eyes at Charlie and slap his shoulder goodbye. “Later, man. Have fun tonight with that one.” I nod to the blonde plastered to his back.

  He pulls me in for a hug. “Congrats, man. I’m proud of you, and if you’re not going get lucky tonight, I will on your behalf.”

  “How noble of you.” I laugh. “Later.”

  Charlie and Logan nod their goodbyes and we leave the club. My ears ring when we step out into the quiet night, and I can’t help but scan all the bodies for my sexy goddess. Of course, she’s gone by now.

  “You want a ride home?” Logan asks.

  “Yeah, thanks.” I don’t have a car yet, but I will soon. My job starts next week and getting a car is at the top of my list.

  The drive home is quiet as Logan and I sit in comfortable silence. We’ve known each other since grade school and I like the fact that we don’t need to fill every moment with conversation.

  “I’ll be over tomorrow at noon to help you move,” Logan says as we pull into my apartment building.

  “Awesome. Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow.” I exit his car and make my way up to my building. This side of town is rough and I can’t wait to get the hell out of here, but it was all I could afford at the time. Now that I’ll be working full-time, I can afford a better place closer to the hospital where I will be working. I climb up the steps to my third-floor apartment.

  Once inside, I sigh at the sight of all the boxes. I don’t have much, but I’m excited to get out of this shit hole. I jump in the shower to wash off the night, and the hot water feels good on my back. My mind wanders back to that girl, my goddess.

  I watched her for a while before I approached her. She looked understated but stunning all the same. She was short and curvy, and her black dress didn’t show much skin but it hugged her in all the right places. The sight of her getting lost in the music, eyes closed, arms up, body moving in time to the beat was mesmerizing. Her long dark hair was glossy and wild, tumbling down her back. With a small, sexy smile on her face, she looked like she didn’t care who was there. She was enjoying herself, comfortable in her own skin. God, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.

  The way she felt in my arms, melting into my body…fuck. My cock hardens at the memory, and I wrap my hand around my shaft, letting myself remember the feel of her pussy, so wet with desire. I didn’t plan for things to escalate the way they did, but she was so fucking sexy riding my thigh, and I could tell she was close. Her whimpers and moans made me forget where we were. I let my mind wander to all the things I would’ve liked to do to her if we weren’t in public.

  I imagine tugging the neckline of that dress down, baring her nipples to me so I can lick and bite them.

  I imagine tugging up the bottom of her dress, hitching her leg up around my waist, and finding her pussy bare and wet for me.

  I imagine sliding my cock inside her and fucking her. What would her expression look like as I drove into her?

  Fuck.

  I tug on my dick as the fantasy plays out in my head until I come against the shower wall. I stand there, chest heaving, heart racing, throbbing erection in hand. Wow. The water has turned cold, so I rinse quickly, towel off, and stumble into bed.

  Tomorrow starts my new life, with a new apartment and a new job. As I fall asleep, I hope I see my sexy goddess in my dreams.

  I want to touch her again.

  Monica

  The next couple days go by in a blur. Technically, I’m supposed to work 10 hours five days a week, but in reality, 10 hours a day becomes 14, and I could always use one of my days off to catch up. Work keeps me busy. When I’m not in the ER taking care of patients, I’m meeting with the board of directors about trying to start a new project, but the head of the board hates me, so he keeps squashing my ideas due to “insufficient funding”. Insufficient funding my ass—he just hates my ideas.

  Whatever.

  I didn’t make it this far by giving up. I’m just going to have to find another way to make it happen.

  Blowing my hair out of my face, I make my way down to the ER and pull my hair back into a messy bun. As I walk down the hall to the nurse’s station, I see Julie and Kevin laughing together over a patient’s chart. As soon as they hear me approach, they straighten up and stop joking around.

  “Hi, Dr. Morgan,” Julie greets.

  “Hi, guys. Only two
of you on tonight? Where’s Sarah?” We need more nurses on staff.

  “She quit,” Kevin informs me. “But good news, we have a new guy starting on Monday.”

  “Great. We need the help.” I move forward to get the patient’s chart. “Tell me about the patient in room two.”

  They both try to hold in laughter, but a snort slips out. Oh, dear. This is going to be interesting.

  “We have a 22-year-old female presenting with…” Julie stops to take a deep breath to maintain her composure. “She…um…” She looks to Kevin for help.

  Kevin is able to pull off a straight face. “Dr. Morgan, she tried to wax the hair off of her anus using a home waxing kit.” Ah, I see. I figured it was going to be something like this.

  “Let me guess, she didn’t end up removing any hair?”

  “Uh, no. She ended up gluing her butt cheeks together instead.” Sigh. I love my job. I love my job. I take a deep breath, school my facial expression, and turn to go evaluate this sticky situation.

  After working for 12 hours straight, I head to my office to catch up on paperwork.

  “Knock, knock.” My door begins to open.

  “Hey there, Dr. Patel.” Dr. Patel works in pulmonary medicine and consults with the ER all the time. He is a 50-year-old Indian man with a thick accent, a very large, bulbous nose, and terrible body odor. Frankly, he reeks, all the time. He is also a brilliant doctor and really helped me when I first started my residency in this hospital.

  He asks me out to dinner just about every other week. I have declined every time, as I have zero romantic interest in this man, but I do respect him and don’t want to hurt his feelings.

  “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Anush?” He smiles widely. I just can’t call him Anush. It sounds too much like “anus”. Anush, I repeat silently. Not anus. Don’t call him anus.

  “What can I do for you Anus?” Shit! “Anush,” I correct quickly. I knew that would happen; that’s why I call him Dr. Patel.

  He ignores my slip. “You are working too hard, Monica. Why don’t I take you out to dinner tonight?” I knew this was coming, as it has been almost two weeks since his last invitation.

  “Oh, that’s very kind, but I brought my dinner with me.” I hold up my frozen meal and smile.

  “That is not a good dinner for you. Come. Let me take you out for a proper meal,” he insists. He smiles brightly and his nose stretches even wider.

  “Thanks so much for the offer, Dr. Patel, but I have a lot of work to catch up on.” That much is true.

  He scans my desk, which is covered with piles of papers and charts, and nods in understanding. “Don’t let this place suck all the life out of you, Monica. You are young and vibrant. Don’t forget to take care of yourself while you’re taking care of everyone else.” He smiles kindly and backs out of the office. “Have a good evening.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Patel. Have a good evening.”

  I sigh. Young and vibrant—the only time in the last two years I’ve felt remotely vibrant was at that club, dancing with Mister Blue Eyes. My mind wanders back to that night. God, he was sexy. His smile. His lips. His body. The way he felt moving against me. The way he touched me. The way I fell apart in his arms.

  The thing is, when I was a teenager, I was a total party animal. My dad, Dr. Peter Morgan, was super strict, and I spent my teenage years pushing every boundary he set in front of me. I snuck out, drank underage, smoked pot, and had sex way too young. My dad was ready to disown me, but my mom would never let that happen. Carmella Morgan was a dancer. She was gorgeous, carefree, and happy. She was my best friend, biggest cheerleader, and the mediator between me and my dad. She always told me she knew I would go on to do great things.

  When she died, I was 19 years old. All the partying in the world couldn’t take the pain away, and I couldn’t let her down. So, I cut out all the shenanigans and buckled down in college.

  I can’t help but notice I went from one extreme to the other. Every now and then, the party animal I have worked so hard to suppress wants to come out and play. At the end of a long work day with nothing but charts to keep me company, I wish I had gone home with Mister Blue Eyes and lived a little.

  Max

  The first week of work is all mind-numbing orientation—human resources presentations, filling out form after form, learning the computer program, and blah blah blah. By the end of each day, I’m exhausted from learning all the new information and my head hurts. I’m anxious to work on my floor and meet my co-workers.

  The second week brings me just that. I meet about 100 people and promptly forget everyone’s name. Luckily, everyone seems very cool. I’m paired mostly with Kevin for the first six weeks to learn the ropes. Kevin has been working as a nurse in the ER for 10 years and has a million funny stories and tips on which doctors are ornery and which are down to earth.

  “Dr. Rosetti is so cool. He always brings in donuts when we work night shift on Saturdays. He also likes to prank everyone, so be warned. All new people get pranked sooner or later.”

  I chuckle. I may have found my people here. “Will he be pissed if I prank him back?”

  Kevin laughs and pats my back. “Only if your prank sucks.” We walk through the floor to the staff locker room. He shows me where I can keep my things, and the next stop is the break room to get some coffee. “Dr. Morgan is around a lot; she’s the director of the department. Do not prank her. I repeat, do NOT prank her. She’s an amazing doctor but she’s a bit…uptight. Very…professional all the time. Great source of information, though, so if you ever have any questions, she’s always willing to help.”

  “Thanks for the intel. I hope I can keep it straight. It would be just my luck that I would prank Dr. Morgan instead of Dr. Rosetti.”

  “Well, Dr. Rosetti is an overweight, 45-year-old man who looks…like he eats a lot of donuts. He has a loud belly laugh, so you’ll hear him coming a mile away. Dr. Morgan, on the other hand, is a tiny, five-foot-nothing woman in her 30s. She’s small and serious all the time.”

  I nod. “Gotcha. That makes it easier to tell them apart.”

  Kevin shows me where to swipe my badge to get into the break room. Just as I open the door, a body slams into me. “Ooof.” I catch the door jamb with one arm to steady myself and wrap my other arm around the person to stop our momentum, but I’m too late. We go tumbling down to the ground, our legs tangled together.

  “Sorry!” I stammer, trying to right myself. I’m able to get my legs under me first and I offer a hand to the fallen woman.

  “No, it’s my fault. I should have been watching where I was going. Sorry I slammed into you.” As she takes my hand, she looks up, and gorgeous hazel eyes meet mine…wait, could this be? I stare down at her. This woman has long brown hair pulled back into a high ponytail, a clean, makeup-free face, and she’s dressed in blue scrubs with a white lab coat over top that practically swallows her whole. She looks different, but this is definitely my goddess from Club Bailar.

  “Dr. Morgan, are you okay?” Kevin asks her.

  This is Dr. Morgan?

  She’s staring right back up at me, studying my face; her gaze flicks from my eyes to my lips. The moment she realizes who I am, her eyes grow wide and the color drains from her face. Yep, she definitely recognizes me.

  I smile wide and scan her from head to toe. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” I can’t believe she’s here. Thoughts of that night at the club with her have been consuming my mind ever since. My eyes can’t leave her lips. Look up, asshole. You can’t kiss her here, and you can’t touch her.

  She just gapes at me. And I realize…she doesn’t look too happy to see me. Shit.

  “Dr. Morgan, this is Max Spencer. He’s our new full-time nurse.”

  “Nice to officially meet you, Dr. Morgan.” I’m still holding her hand; it’s soft and I don’t want to let go. She looks over at Kevin then back at me. I’m not sure she’s actually breathing.

  She looks down, notices that he
r hand is still clasped in mine, drops it like it’s hot, and steps back, bumping into the door jamb behind her. “Whoa. Careful.”

  I reach out to steady her once again, but she holds up her hands. “I’m good, thank you.” She looks at me, grimaces, and tries hard to give me a polite smile. She’s legit freaking out.

  “Officially?” Kevin asks, looking from me to Dr. Morgan.

  She laughs, awkward and uncomfortable. Ahhh, I get it. She doesn’t want Kevin to know where we met, or maybe that we met at all.

  “She almost ran me over in the parking lot,” I cover. “I thought you looked familiar. Were you trying to drum up more business for the ER?” I attempt to reassure her with my most charming smile.

  Relief floods her eyes. “Nice to meet you, Max. I’m glad I didn’t run you over.” She starts to walk past us. “I’ll see you guys later.” She darts down the hall, almost full-out running.

  Well, that sucks. The sight of this woman makes my dick hard, aaaand the sight of me makes her run away. I sigh heavily and meet Kevin’s curious gaze.

  “Way to make a good first impression on Dr. Morgan.” His sarcasm is not lost on me. What he doesn’t know is that wasn’t my first impression on her.

  “I know,” I agree. That was not the reaction I was expecting. I stare after her retreating form. “No worries. I’ll win her over.”

  “Good luck with that,” he says skeptically. We step into the break room where Kevin drones on about the refrigerator, but my mind is reeling from seeing her again.

  Luck.

  The universe is playing a joke on me right now. I actually find the woman who ran away after coming on my fingers, the one I have been jerking off to on a regular basis, but she is a physician in the department I now work in—and the director of the department to boot. What does that make her? My boss? No, my boss’s boss.