Bliss Series Boxed Set: The Whole Damn Harem (91 page)

She shrugs nonchalantly, almost as if this conversation is tedious to her.

Fuck me, Winters was right.

I’ve been fucking clueless this whole time. Dan warned me, and Mac definitely fucking warned me. Being part of the wedding yesterday, seeing my friends so happy and fulfilled, has helped me see what I want in my future. Now it’s painfully obvious that Nikki is
not
the woman who is going to be in that future.

You’re a cock to her, only a human, walking, talking sex toy. You’re the fill-in. The one she calls when she lucks out in her search for Rich Husband Number One.

As realization hits me square in the face, I give up the loose control I have on my emotions.

“I’m not a fill-in,” I state matter-of-factly, staring Nikki straight in the eyes. “I’m not a toy. I’m not just a cock with legs that comes on command whenever you click your fingers.” The lack of reaction from her grates on me. She hasn’t even flinched. “I’m a man. I’m a goddamn kickass trauma surgeon who saves lives every fucking day. I’m a good man, a man who deserves to be treated better than the likes of you who think that their blond hair, hot body and ‘come hither’ eyes give them the right to lead any man they like around by their dick. I’m too good for . . .” I wave my hand between us, “
this
. I know what I want in my life moving forward and I see now that I was grossly mistaken in thinking I wanted you as a part of it.”

Her eyes widen briefly but she says nothing. No apology, no remorse. She just stands there, as impassive as ever.

“Go, Nik, but I will say this. Thanks for the memories. For what I thought was good, what I knew was bad, and now what I know is the true downright
ugly
side of you. I wish you all the happiness you deserve, which right now, isn’t a lot.” I flick my hand to the door as I watch her frown briefly before picking up her heels from my bedroom floor and making her way to the door. But I need closure; I need to make my point as clear as fucking day, just in case it hasn’t sunk all the way into her narcissistic head.

After wanting more from Nikki for so long and putting up with not getting it, I find myself relieved that it’s now over. I’ve been acting like a pussy whipped idiot, but no more.

“You know the way out. Make sure you forget about me the next time you have an itch to scratch, Nik, because I sure as hell won’t be getting my dick out for you again.”

“Really Don’t Care”

Zoe

Two weeks later.

My first week working as an MRI Technician at the hospital and I’ve managed to avoid the object of my desire—and annoyance—until now. Somehow the universe decided I didn’t have enough on my plate and figured it was time to add just one more block to the pile of crap I’m juggling in my life. Standing at the nurses’ station at the end of the corridor is Dr. Noah Taylor, leaning against the desk and directing his sexy smile at two giggling, ‘can’t get enough’ nurses who look like helpless flies stuck in his web of slutdom.

I was doing well until I saw him. Then I just totally zoned out and didn’t hear a word of what my manager, Greta, was telling me. All I can hear is a loud buzzing in my head as I zero in on the man of my recent nighttime fantasies and one-handed finger tickle inspiration.

It’s not that I’ve been pining after him—far from it—but that’s not to say that when I’m lying in bed and my mind won’t switch off, I don’t imagine what would’ve happened if he’d not been drunk—or taken—and had manned up and taken me home with him.

I’ve had images of him making out with
me
in the cab on the way back to his place. Of the two of us losing control the minute we closed his front door and round one commencing on his couch, or stairs, or entryway floor, or—what can I say, I have a
healthy
imagination.

But that wasn’t meant to be. And seeing the fine specimen of a man in front of me now, there is a twinge of disappointment, a smidge of relief, and a whole lot of something I refuse to acknowledge as lust.

My problem is this—he isn't just handsome; he’s hot as fucking sin. He has the look of a
Men’s Health
cover model paired with a cocky lilt that I'm sure he works to his advantage wherever and whenever possible. His smile alone—the one currently being directed at the now hair-flipping healthcare professionals—has the potential to light up the city. His body holds an unspoken promise that could be or maybe already is fantasy fodder for the entire female population.

Greta clears her throat from beside me, cutting through my mind’s racing thoughts. She lets out a knowing chuckle. "I see Dr. Taylor has captured your attention already."

I try to cover up my obvious behavior, turning my body and eyes toward her. "I don't . . . I mean, no . . . sorry. I—" My stuttered reply makes her smile grow wider, her eyes sparkling in amusement.

She rests her hand on my arm." He has that effect on most people, Zoe, including myself. The word charming springs to mind."

"That's one way to describe him."
Also cocky, probably arrogant, definitely sexy-as-hell, a great kisser, a killer body, no doubt a player. Oh did I mention cocky . . .

“I would introduce you but he seems rather busy right now.” She winks at me before looking back down at the chart in front of her.“ And besides, we have this attending to find.”

“Hey!” I hear from behind me, along with rapidly approaching footsteps. I look to Greta, whose eyes widen in surprise before she plasters a sweet smile on her face.

“Dr. Taylor, how can I help?” she asks.

“I know you,” he says with a slow growing grin, ignoring Greta’s question.

That’s it. I have to resign. New job, new life. I’ve just moved here, but fuck it, I’ll find a new city that doesn’t have deliciously hot doctors who I want to mount like a dog in heat.

I turn toward him and meet his eyes. Deep blue eyes that would melt the iciest of glaciers—or the panties off any female within a ten-mile radius.

“Hey,” I reply in a surprisingly steady voice. I mentally pat myself on the back for appearing unaffected.

“You’re Zander’s sister. It’s Zoe, right?” He holds his hand out to me as if I’m just another colleague, one whose tongue he
hasn’t
sucked into his mouth. I pull my big girl panties on and resist the urge to slap his hand away. Instead, I do the polite thing and put my hand in his before quickly pulling it back.

“Yep, that’s me.”

“I’ve been looking out for you. Mac told me you were going to be working here.”
Note to self: Remember to thank Mac for making my life a hell of a lot more interesting.

“Ah okay. We’ll no doubt see each other around then.” I look to Greta, my eyes pleading with her to get me out of there. She narrows her eyes in confusion and smiles back at Noah.

“You were at the wedding? I remember seeing you during the day, but after the speeches my memory is a bit . . . hazy.” He reaches his hand up to grab on to the back of his neck, a nervous tell that I make a note of for future reference.
No, Zoe. No future referencing of Noah’s cute quirks necessary
.

In that moment I seem to forget all about my boss standing next to me and take the opportunity that is suddenly presented to me to settle my suspicions once and for all. “So you don’t remember the reception?”

He looks wary, almost embarrassed, and my heart constricts at the uncertainty that’s written all over his face. “Well, I apparently had a few too many drinks that night and from what I’ve been told by a few people, things got a bit out of hand.”

My mouth drops open and I’ve never been more thankful when Greta pipes in. “As they do at weddings,” she says with a laugh. “That’s compulsory though. There’s always that one guest that drinks too much and does something inappropriate.”

Watching his face for any sign that he remembers that
I
was the thing he inappropriately did—or kissed—I’m disappointed when he simply shrugs and if I’m not mistaken, blushes a little. Then I watch in amazement as he squares his shoulders back and pins me with a stare, tilting his head slightly as he studies me intently. My skin heats and I resist the urge to squirm on the spot. “I remember you though. I never forget a beautiful face.”

As if a bucket of cold water has been thrown over me, my body goes still. He’s reverted back to his cocky persona—the one that he’s renowned for, the one Zander and Kate repeatedly warned me about on the way home from the wedding. And the next day. And the day before I started working at NorthWestern.

Gag! Someone give this guy a new pick-up line
.

“Right. Well nice to see you again, Dr. Taylor. Greta was taking me to meet a new attending so we better get going.”

Greta’s eyes switch from Noah back to me before they soften in understanding, knowing full well that I’m full of shit. Without missing a beat, she just nods and smiles at him.

“Yes. Best we get on our way. Have a good day, Dr. Taylor.” She walks past him, no doubt expecting me to follow her. I step sideways to pass Noah and he stops me, his hand on my arm searing my skin like a hot poker. “I look forward to seeing you around, Zoe. Something tells me we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. Soon I hope.”

I stop breathing all together, thankful when I hear Greta calling my name. I walk toward her, not looking back out of fear I’ll either lose the battle to not let him rattle me, or worse still, catch him looking at my ass as I walk away.

Although a part of me hopes he is watching my ass because A) the pants I’m wearing do amazing things for my behind, and B) because maybe, just maybe, he might remember having his hand planted on my rump when he drunkenly kissed me.

Fingers crossed for option B.

∞
∞
∞

Thankfully, I finish the day with no more Noah run-ins. It was embarrassing enough that he didn’t acknowledge the fact that our mouths have a carnal knowledge of each other, but when he told Greta he’d ‘look out for me’, I’d held my breath waiting for the penny to drop. I’m almost glad he gave me that flirty comment as I walked away because if I had gotten a ‘big brother’ vibe it would’ve made imagining him naked a little awkward.

The mystery bunch of flowers that were delivered to my floor were definitely a surprise. Greta’s eyes even went all soft and swoony when she saw them. I let her take them home so that I didn’t have to lug them home on the L.

I catch the L home and breathe a sigh of relief when I see a note on the kitchen counter from Zander telling me that he’s taken Kate out for dinner. Dumping my purse on the couch, I make a beeline to the drinks cupboard to pour myself a strong—okay
very
strong—gin and tonic, minus the tonic.

Don’t get me wrong; I love my new job. I love the work, and the variety in cases I’ve gotten to see by shadowing Greta this past week has been invaluable. It’s my first job since finishing my training and I’m like a sponge, desperate for knowledge and eager to learn anything and everything. She made my day this afternoon when she told me I was free to do scans by myself next week. I’m equally nervous and excited for the opportunity to practice everything I’ve been taught. After the last six months where anything and everything has gone wrong in my life, I finally feel like things are going in my favor.

All but that one complication called Noah Taylor. The one I do not want or need right now.

I can’t believe he doesn’t remember our kiss. That mind-bending, life-changing kiss. I may not have been one hundred percent sober but I was totally coherent and aware of what was being done to me, of what I willingly reciprocated until my idiot brother decided to act like the big man and save me when I wanted anything
but
to be saved from the likes of Noah Taylor. He had me so turned on he could’ve dragged me off to the nearest coat closet and had his way with me in the blink of an eye.

After today’s realization that he has no fucking clue what he did and who he did it with, let alone the fact he went home with someone else afterwards, maybe I should be glad Zander stepped in. I make a mental note to buy Zander a six-pack of beer to say thanks.

Actually, I’m glad I saw Noah today. I’m glad I talked to him, and I’m
very
glad I realized that this is the time to focus on my job, on my new start in my home city.

No distractions. No complications. Just me, my job, and my family and friends.

No cocky, gorgeous doctors with talented tongues.

No Noah.

That mantra lasted me five days and two of those were the weekend. Waiting for the elevator on my way home, I inwardly groan when the doors open and I see who’s standing there in front of me. He’s leaning against the back railing, his long legs stretched out in an open invitation. Gone is his white lab coat, and in its place is a perfectly tailored pair of charcoal gray slacks and a navy blue button-down shirt that sets off his eyes like you wouldn’t believe.

Of course it so happens he’s the only one in there, and being on a high floor, there’s no way out of the predicament unless I feel like scaling multiple flights of stairs before running like crazy to the train station. I decide pretending I’m walking past and pressing the button again after the doors close is my best plan of attack.

“Zoe,” he says in that low, chocolate dipped voice of his. “Are you coming?”
I will be later, Dr. Taylor.

Letting out a defeated sigh, I step past the doors just before they close behind me, and I’m suddenly in an enclosed space with the forgetful doctor, just the two of us.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“It’s a public elevator, Dr. Taylor.”

“You can call me Noah you know.”

“I can but Dr. Taylor is more professional.” He tilts his head and considers me before letting it go.

“That it is. Enjoying the new job?”

“Immensely.” I reply without hesitation, because it’s the truth.

“And what about the staff? Treating you well? Any residents making personal visits to radiology?” he asks, his voice lower, deeper, and exactly the tone Fantasy Noah has had in my dreams.