RT 2013 – Day 4

– the latest release in my Hot Nights in St. Blaise series, and tomorrow I’ll have a Weekend Writing Warrior snippet from the same snoking hot story! Thanks for joining me here!

St Blaise logo

Welcome to St. Blaise, Missouri: Home of The Men and Women of St. Blaise Regional Medical Center

When the St. Blaise Regional Medical Center Board of Directors hired hometown girl, Beth Watkins, to jump start their public relations, they never imagined she’d be stripping their most prominent doctors, nurses, and support staff down to their birthday suits in order to beef up the hospital’s bank account.

Six men and six women were chosen to represent the best and brightest of this little town nestled in the heart of the Mark Twain National Forest. They also happened to be the hottest tickets in town. Soon the fundraising calendar is spiking temperatures throughout the Show Me state, and the men and women of St. Blaise are setting their small-town nights on fire.

Mr. Mayhem


Lab tech Melanie Curtis claims Dr. Marc Mayhew’s shy smile won her vote for Mr. May, but the fact is she’s been aching to get a taste of the delicious Pathologist’s mochachino skin since the moment she set eyes on him.

Quiet and reserved, Marc was happy to take refuge in his research until she walked into his lab. He tried to ignore the attraction that sparked and sizzled each time she drew near, all too aware of the strict edicts issued by the hospital’s Human Resources department, but he couldn’t deny that he wouldn’t mind subjugating himself to his bossy little subordinate. Over and over again.

The only variable he couldn’t predict was how far Melanie was willing to go to get the results she expected. When she tests his mettle, Marc finds he’s more than willing to risk everything on a case of chemistry run amok if it means he can claim her as his. For keeps.

Here’s an excerpt:

“You don’t get to call all the shots.”

His voice came low and soft, wrapping around her ankles like smoke and wafting over her. Staring into his ebony eyes, it was impossible to pretend she didn’t know exactly what he meant. Precious oxygen seeped from her lungs. Wrinkling her forehead in concentration, she focused on dragging air back in.

“I don’t mind you callin’ some of them. Like what happened earlier…” His drawl deepened, flowing thick and rich as molasses over the rough edges of a raspy laugh. “As a matter of fact, I like a woman with a take-charge attitude.” She looked up, and her heart skipped a beat. He stared straight at her, sparkles of laughter shining bright in his eyes, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “But make no mistake, if you happen to be taking charge of me, it’s because I let you.”

She blinked, taken aback by the steel behind the velvet delivery. Her eyebrows arched. “Should I call you ‘sir’?”

His voice dropped another octave, rumbling up through his long lean body. “Oh, yes, ma’am. Please do.” Her chin jerked up and the sparks of amusement lurking in his eyes burst into flame. The smile he’d been fighting widened into a happy grin, and he nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll call you ‘ma’am’ and you call me ‘sir’ and please God, tell me I can strip you out of those PJs right now, Miss Melanie, because I don’t think I can take another minute of thinking about stripping you out of those PJs.”

She was in his arms before her brain could process the run-on sentence. All she heard was fervent desire in his tone. All she wanted was the same thing from him. His lips were hot and heavy on her neck. She fought her way through the fog of want clouding her mind and made a grab for the sassy she used as a shield.

“And if I tell you to get on your knees again?”

Marc slid to his knees in front of her, dragging hungry kisses in his wake. Grasping her hips, he looked up at her, cool and unashamed, reveling in a position most other men might find degrading. “Yes, ma’am.”

Bowled over by the rush of power surging through her veins and the unbridled lust his open, expectant acceptance unleashed, she gaped at him. “Jesus.”

His smile turned roguish, the wicked gleam in his eye letting her know that he knew she was not the least bit in control. “I thought it was ‘sir’,” he replied with unsettling equanimity.

He pushed the pajama top up with one hand and slid the waistband lower with the other. His breath washed over her flushed skin. Her stomach quivered. He ran his hands over her hips then cupped her ass, pulling her closer to him. “We need ground rules.” His lips whispered across her bare belly. She ran her fingers over his short, soft hair then laced them at the base of his skull, holding him just where she needed him most.

“From here on, no secrets. We don’t have to advertise our relationship, but I will speak to Dr. Watkins about this change in…status and we’ll figure it out from there.”

She stiffened at the mention of the Chief Administrator’s name then melted into a puddle of girl goo when Marc kissed lower and lower. He trailed down to the apex of her legs and exhaled slow and soft. The rush of warm, moist breath seeping through her cotton shorts left her completely undone.

“Tell me now if you want to stop. We’ll never talk about what happened earlier. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll try not to think about how sweet you tasted or how hot you were all wrapped around me.” His ragged breaths told her she wasn’t the only one clinging to reason by a thread. “Tell me I’m not worth the risk, and I swear I’ll do my best to stop wanting you.” He tangled his fingers with hers, knotting them tight. “But I won’t be something you have to hide. And there are going to be people, plenty of people, who will have an issue with me loving you.”

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