Page 1 of Bradi

Chapter One

“Have a seat,” Doctor Marisa Langston said as the door to her exam room slid shut. “Go ahead and gown up. I’ll be right with you. I just need to finish up with these logs.”

She ran her hand over the edges of the electronic access tab on the files, allowing a microchip embedded under the skin in her hand to access the information in them. A clear image appeared in her mind as she downloaded the day’s findings into the chart log. Visions of each patient she’d seen over the course of the day rushed through her mind. As quickly as it had started, the painless procedure was over.

A husky laugh sounded, accompanied closely by the scent of cedar and musk. The smell drove her wild. The man attached to it drove her insane.

“Ah, Doc, I’ve always known you wanted me out of my pants. Hearing you say it confirms my suspicions. I told you yesterday that all you had to do was say the word and I would show you what a real man could offer you.”

Marisa outwardly cringed but inwardly rejoiced at the sound of Lieutenant Commander Bradi Janelle’s deep voice. The man lived to make her life hell. He seemed to take great pleasure in embarrassing her whenever possible and being as crude as possible. There was something about him that made her blood boil and her body burn in ways it shouldn’t. It wasn’t something she wanted to think too hard about. She was positive she wouldn’t like what she discovered.

She focused on the medicine-dispensing panel in front of her instead of sinful thoughts about the man behind her. “Lieutenant Commander Bradi, I thought you canceled your physical today. I put someone else in your spot.” She let her voice go hard, knowing full well why he was standing there. Giggling was an option she had to fight not to take. While it was childish, it seemed more than called for.

Bradi cleared his throat, the tension suddenly thick enough to choke on. “I did cancel, but since someone went straight to the big boy about my file not being complete, I got a call telling me to get my ass in here. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Doc? I mean, you don’t have any certain pull with the Commander, do you?”

Grinning, Marisa turned toward him, wanting to give him the impression that he didn’t get to her—but he did. Everything about the man got under her skin, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was in a bad way either. The fact that her pulse seemed to speed with the slightest mention of Bradi’s name and that her body seemed to tighten of its own accord by his sheer nearness told her more than she wanted to know.

She wanted him. She could never have him. Off limits didn’t even begin to cover Lt. Commander Bradi Janelle. Dark. Dangerous. Delicious. Everything she needed to avoid.

Bradi seemed to take up so much room that he demanded attention. The dark gray backdrop of the infirmary walls provided a scene that if Marisa didn’t know better, she would have said it made the brave and ballsy Lt. Commander look uncomfortable. Having an aversion to hospital-like settings wasn’t uncommon. Seeing Bradi appear as anything but in control was. He squared his shoulders and stared down at her, a challenge in his eyes.

The man was pure muscle, at least from what Marisa could tell. He’d never allowed her to examine him in the two months she’d been the ship’s assistant physician, so she could only guess. As far as she knew, Bradi hadn’t allowed anyone to examine him in well over a year.

Judging from the way his tight, regulation black T-shirt fit him, his upper body was sculpted to perfection. The lower half of him didn’t look so bad either in a “great ass, large muscular thighs and an even larger bulge between the legs” kind of way, but who was really looking at that anyway?

Who am I kidding? I can’t keep my eyes off him.

Bradi pulled the leather tie out of his hair and she watched in silent wonder as waves of silky black spilled over his broad shoulders. His light blue eyes locked on her as his tongue darted out. The sight of his long tongue brushing over his full lips made her hands shake from the need to touch him. On more than one occasion, Marisa had wondered what it would feel like to have him above her, taking her in ways she shouldn’t even think about.

Even while she should have been focused on her job, Marisa was focused on the idea of Bradi taking hold of her, tossing her onto an exam table and having his way with her. Her pussy dampened at the very thought of him sinking his cock into her.

Stop thinking about him like that. It’s wrong. Besides, he’s an asshole.

Lt. Commander Bradi was different from the men she knew. So wild. So free that the idea of not being close to him to see what he’d do next wasn’t an option. He was certainly an individual in a sea of the same. She wasn’t used to men with facial hair—the Commission frowned upon it—so Bradi stood out even more than normal. His goatee was well maintained. It wasn’t pointy, like some. No. His was cut close to his naturally squared jawline. It not only suited him, but added to the attraction of her fantasies of him going down on her. The very thought of his whiskers scraping over the tender flesh of her pussy left Marisa shifting awkwardly as cream continued to build.

Gods, I want him.

It’d be a cold day in hell before she admitted that to him though.

“As much as I love the fact you felt the need to show off your non-regulation hair, I don’t need that down. I need your pants down,” she said, sure that her sexual suggestion wasn’t lost on him. “You need your shots updated. You’re dangerously close to the expiration date on your old ones and gods help us all, knowing the way you bed hop. The entire ship will be full of little Janelles. We can only hope they aren’t as cocky as you are. Not only that, I’ll be treating bizarre cases of whatever it is men like you spread around sexually for months. You’re an epidemic waiting to happen, Janelle.”

“I do not have little Janelles running around,” he said, sounding a bit annoyed. “I never will.”

That surprised Marisa. Bradi generally took everything in stride. He was also known to dish out way more than she liked to receive. His chart hadn’t listed any issues with sperm count. Not that she’d specifically looked for it.

Seeing him sad didn’t sit well with her. Softening her expression, Marisa glanced up at him. “My apologies. That was uncalled for and unprofessional. I have nothing to base my assumptions on other than what I hear the others whisper. Sorry, Lieutenant Commander.”

He arched a dark brow and ran his hand over his facial hair. “Want a basis? I’d be happy to give you one, Doctor,” he murmured, his blue gaze suddenly raking over her body slowly. Her breath quickened. “Give me one night, Doc. One night and then you can base all the assumptions you want off it, off me. But only if you promise to let me play doctor with you too. No fair that you get all the fun. You see,” unabashed, he cupped his groin, “I have the perfect thing to take your temperature with.” Bradi took a step toward her, sliding his large hand up toward his belt.

Yes, have me at your mercy.

Need slammed through her, leaving Marisa no choice but to avert her gaze. Her cheeks flushed. Crawling away from him wasn’t an option. Standing there while he dropped his pants before her was what her job demanded. Wanting to see all that he had to offer was something her body demanded.

You can’t stand him. Remember?

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about your heritage, Lieutenant Commander,” Marisa said, doing her best to stay focused. It was far from easy. Sneaking a peek at Bradi’s perfect body would be so easy. She’d lain awake countless nights wondering about him, knowing it was wrong. Each time she pleasured herself, it was Bradi’s face she saw in her mind, his body she imagined inside her, not the man who was supposed to be there.

“My heritage?” he asked, taken aback.

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