Page 121 of Trick or Treat Nurse at My Feet
"Very responsible," he nods seriously, lifting his arms to help me remove the soggy garment.
Pulling it over his head, I reveal inch by inch the lean body I've dreamed about every night we've been apart. His skin is cool and damp, but it warms under my touch as I run my hands down his sides, still not quite believing he's here.
Ethan steps back just enough to survey his appearance with a grimace. "These shorts were not meant to get wet." He tugs at the clinging denim. "I think they've fused to my skin."
A laugh breaks free as I watch him battle with the soaked denim. "Need help?"
"Please," he says, losing the battle to peel the shorts down his thighs.
Dropping to my knees in front of him, I look up with a grin. "This is not how I imagined getting you out of your clothes again."
"No? What did you imagine?" He braces his hands on my shoulders as I work on the stubborn fabric.
"Less denim. More finesse," I admit, tugging harder. The shortsfinally give way, sliding down to his ankles with a wet slap. "Victory!"
Ethan steps out of them and kicks them aside, standing before me in just his underwear and, I'd forgotten, the heels.
"Your turn," he says, pulling me to my feet.
When I try to strip off my soaked T-shirt, I get tangled halfway, arms stuck above my head like a toddler who's lost the coordination for dressing themselves. "Little help here?" The fabric muffles my voice.
Ethan's laughter fills the room as he helps free me from the wet cotton prison. "Smooth, Tyler. Very smooth."
"Hey, I'm working under pressure," I defend, finally emerging with ruffled hair. "You standing there looking like that is very distracting."
His expression softens at the compliment. "Like what?"
"Like everything I thought I'd lost," I answer honestly.
The playfulness dims, replaced by a raw vulnerability that steals my breath. Ethan steps closer, his hands finding my waist. "You didn't lose me. I just...got temporarily misplaced."
"Still working on the jeans," I remind him, trying to lighten the moment before I completely fall apart.
Together, we tackle my wet jeans, which prove even more stubborn than Ethan's shorts. I hop awkwardly on one foot, then the other, yanking at the clinging denim until I lose my balance entirely, toppling backward onto the bed with a curse.
Ethan bursts into laughter, the kind that has him doubling over, tears at the corners of his eyes. "Oh my god," he gasps between fits of giggles. "Your face!"
"Shut up," I grumble without heat, kicking the jeans the rest of the way off. "Come here."
Still laughing, he kicks off theboots and crawls onto the bed, straddling me with an ease that suggests he knows exactly where he belongs. His hands frame my face, and his laughter fades into something deeper, more intimate.
"I've missed that sound," my hands run up his thighs.
"What sound?"
"Your laugh. Your real laugh." I reach up to brush damp hair from his eyes. "I was afraid I'd never hear it again."
His expression turns serious. "There's so much I want to say to you. So much we need to talk about."
My head nods, I'm ready to have the conversation we need to have, to process the hurt and misunderstandings that nearly destroyed us. "We should?—"
Ethan cuts me off with a kiss, deep and hungry, his body pressing down against mine. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. "Sex now. Talking later. Okay?"
Blinking, I'm momentarily surprised by his directness. Then a grin spreads across my face. "I am so okay with that plan."
That's all the confirmation he needs. His mouth crashes back down on mine, urgent and demanding. There's none of the hesitation or gentleness of our first times together. Ethan knows what he wants now, and I'm all too willing to give it to him.
Flipping our positions, I press him into the mattress, my weight anchoring him as we kiss like we're trying to make up for every moment we were apart. His hands are everywhere, threading through my hair, scratching down my back, slipping beneath the waistband of my boxers to grip my ass.
