The V-Spot

Damn if she didn’t look eager for him to give it a try.

His agent’s words, a constant redundant reminder, flashed through his mind. Give the fans what they want, whatever they want. Keep them happy and they’ll keep you and me living the good life.

So he added a flirtatious wink and said, “Maybe some other time.”

Problem was, after seven years in the business, his definition of “the good life” had changed. Yeah, he made a fantastic income. But there were few places he could go and not be recognized. Wrestling fans who watched him on television, attended his matches and purchased his likeness in toy stores considered him an approachable friend. And they approached...constantly.

Women who followed the circuit wanted the notoriety of being seen with him, and would do anything for the opportunity. While respectable women like Emma Masters judged him and found him lacking without ever giving him a chance.

Which is why, after overhearing Emma and Sadie discussing Emma’s upcoming birthday blind date surprise, he’d approached Sadie about getting in on the celebration. So he could introduce Emma to the real Brody, a nice, smart, regular guy. So he could woo her and warm her up and show her she’d misjudged him.

Convincing Sadie had taken some effort, but she’d come around.

Then he’d learned the terms of the date and he’d started looking forward to it even more.

Brody watched Emma exit the reception room, unsurprised she’d barely spared him a glance. You expect a woman like Emma to fall into your arms without having to work for it?

No. Emma Masters would require some seducing. Brody smiled, looking forward to the challenge.

As she walked some guy latched on to her arm and Brody saw his chance to earn some points playing the hero. But two steps in their direction and on the verge of telling that idiot what he’d do to him if the jerk didn’t get his hands off her—in his loudest, most intimidating voice—Emma pushed him away.

Brody should have expected she could handle herself. There was a reason his fellow wrestlers referred to her as the pit bull of the pediatric ward. Emma didn’t take any crap, remained focused on her task no matter how much they joked or teased or flirted. Over the years, trying to get a rise out of her had become a game he looked forward to playing.

But a few months ago, while hanging around waiting for Samson to catch a few private minutes to hit on Sadie, he’d occupied his time by watching Emma, noticing her softer side for the first time. The beautiful, genuine smile she reserved for people who were not wrestlers, apparently. The tender touches and compassionate caresses she reserved for her little patients and their families. The way she could coax a smile from the sickest of children or the most exhausted and drained parent.

That’s also when he started to see Emma as more than a nurse, as a full-figured, voluptuous woman with warm blue eyes, a fair complexion and pretty blond hair he’d like to see loose from its tight bun.

She worked as a plus-sized model to earn extra cash during college, Sadie had told him. That’d come as a shocker. But the way she looked tonight, all dressed up and dolled up, with her hair down and wearing shiny red lipstick, he could see it. Her only indulgences are chocolate, wine and a weekly pedicure. If he had his way, she’d be adding to the list pronto.

The more Sadie shared about Emma, the more he wanted to uncover—especially the biggest secret of them all—the full, lush, sensually rounded figure she tried to hide beneath baggy hospital scrubs. He was a big man ready to try out a big woman. More cushion for the pushin’ and all. Something different. His dick started to fill at the thought.

Emma continued on toward the parking lot, talking to the man beside her, walking slowly, carefully in her heels, her shoulder-length, curly blond hair blowing in the slight breeze. Her knee-length sundress flowing, occasionally clinging, allowing glimpses of the curves it concealed as she moved. So pretty, so feminine and desirable.

She thought to escape him? Not gonna happen, sweetheart. He’d been dreaming about her for weeks. But, based on her downright frigid reception, getting Emma to even agree to their birthday date was going to take some work. Best he get started.

Brody turned his attention back to his fans. “Gotta run to get changed for my date,” he said, ignoring the disappointed voices and pleas for him to stick around for a few more minutes. They always wanted more from him. “As of right now I’m putting The Bull out to pasture for the night. It’s just me, Brody, and I’m on a date.” He scanned the group, giving them his evil, threatening wrestler look. “I won’t take kindly to being disturbed.”

Thanks to his long legs which made it easy to hurry and not look like he was hurrying, Emma’s practical, dark blue SUV came into view in the next minute. But he saw no sign of her. He looked around the small parking lot as he walked, approaching with caution, on the lookout for flying objects aimed in his direction, not sure what to expect from Emma.

What he did not expect was the grunting he heard coming from the other side of her vehicle. “Emma?” he asked.

“Stop,” she cried out.

He hesitated, asked, “What are you doing?” then continued forward. The gravel crunching beneath his feet must have given him away because all of a sudden her head popped out by the far side of the front window, her hair tousled, her eye mask gone, the fair skin on her cheeks colored pink. From the heat? Exertion? A blush? Her pinup girl red lips had him wanting to kiss her...until they formed the words, “Take one more step and you’ll get a face full of rocks.” She twirled away. More grunting ensued, accompanied by grumbling that sounded like “...mess up that pretty face of his.”

He couldn’t help it, he smiled at the threat then bent to look at her through the front driver and passenger side windows. She twisted and wriggled and strained. Then she noticed him and went rigid.

He waved and gave her a dopey grin. “Whatcha doin’?”

She narrowed her eyes in response. “None of your business. Go away.”

Not likely.

She moved farther down.

He did the same, albeit on the opposite side from her. “Do you need any help?” Maybe she had an itch she couldn’t reach or a bee flew into her pretty sundress. With that floral print she’d no doubt attract them.

She didn’t answer. When she let out one final grunt followed by an arousing moan of pleasure and a, “Yessss,” he got the message she’d finished doing whatever the heck she’d been doing. That moan got him thinking maybe she wasn’t over there doing it alone. He thought back but couldn’t remember seeing the loser that’d followed her to the parking lot rejoin the rest of the visitors. And a vision of that man on his knees at Emma’s feet, bunching her skirt up to her waist with his head between...

Propelled by an unexpected territorial urge to protect what he considered to be his, at least for tonight, Brody rounded the rear of the vehicle to be stopped short at the sight of Emma, standing alone, leaning against the door, panting slightly, looking as though she’d just triumphed in battle, her prize the heavy-duty, black fabric-elastic contraption dangling from her hand.

“To think I suffered the torture that is shapewear for you!” she said, shoving the undergarment into her oversize red pocketbook. “Well, I’m for sure going to breathe easier on my way home than I did on the trip here.”

She tried to storm past him.

He held out his arm to stop her. “Hold on a minute.”

Gracing him with another glare she said, “Please move.” When he didn’t she added, “Now,” in that do-it-or-suffer-my-wrath tone she used to boss him and his buddies around when they visited the pediatric floor of her hospital. No one dared mess with Emma while she supervised them washing their hands then checked their temperatures and listened to their lungs to evaluate them for any signs of illness before she’d allow them to circulate among her patients.

“Honey, I know—”

“I am not your honey,” she snapped, pushing past him. “And there is nothing you can say that will make me stay and endure this indignity one minute longer.” She rounded the front of the vehicle.

Indignity? “Emma, wait,” he said, following her.

She reached for the door.

“Please,” he said quietly.

She stopped but stared at her hand on the handle rather than look at him.

“I know I’m probably the last person you expected to show up tonight.” But did she have to come off so averse to the idea?

“You got that right,” she said, turning to face him. Something flashed in her eyes. Anger? Hurt? “Did you lose a bet? Is this some sort of joke? Have a good laugh at my expense? Are all the guys in on it?” She looked around the parking lot. “Did they come with you to witness my humiliation firsthand?”

What? “No. Of course not. Listen—”

She didn’t.

“Why are you here?” she snapped.

Brody spread his arms wide and smiled. “I’m your birthday present, with love from Sadie.”

“This is insane.” She started digging around in her purse. “Do you honestly expect me to believe Brody ‘The Bull’ Bullock, a wildly popular, good-looking professional wrestler who could get any woman he wanted with a sexy wink and a smile, actually wants to—” She wrapped her arm around her waist, rested her left elbow on her right forearm and dropped her face into her palm. “Oh, God. What did Sadie tell you about this date?”

Things were falling apart fast. Brody wasn’t sure how to answer. So he didn’t.

She lifted her head. “Tell me.”

Brody decided to go with honesty. “She told me every woman deserves a good—”

“Stop!” Emma threw up her hand between them and locked her beautiful blue eyes on his. “You came here tonight expecting to...” She swallowed. “...with me?” She hesitated before narrowing her eyes and adding, “The pit bull of the pediatric ward?”

Well, he shouldn’t be surprised she knew about that. Not much got past Emma. “Not expecting, exactly. But ready, very willing and able.”

“With me,” she clarified, as if she couldn’t possibly believe it.

Sadie was right. Emma had no idea how sexy she was. “Yes, with you. I can’t think of any other woman I’d undergo a physical exam and blood testing for.” He smiled.

Her cheeks blushed a sexy shade of red.

“For the record, pit bull was a term of endearment, for the protector of the pediatric ward,” he tried.

Yeah, she wasn’t buying it.

“Did you choose the location of our date?” she asked accusingly.

He shook his head. “No way. That was all Sadie.” Quite frankly, he’d tried to talk her out of it thinking once Emma found out what went on at The V-Spot she’d leave. Only she hadn’t and that intrigued him.

“Have you been here before?” she asked.

“No.”

“And you have no problem coming to a place like this for sex with a woman you hardly know? Why does that not surprise me?” She crossed her arms under her bodacious breasts, as if offering them up to him. Damn, that made it difficult to concentrate.

Luckily he maintained enough brain function to recognize it was probably not in his best interest to point out she’d come to a place like this for sex without even knowing who she’d be having it with. “We’ve known each other for four years, Emma. We see each other every couple of months.” Whenever he could squeeze a visit to her hospital into his schedule.

“As far as I recall,” she responded, while glaring at him, “and I have an excellent memory, in all those years we have never once had a meaningful conversation. You’ve given no indication you had any interest in me whatsoever. Yet here you are. Surprise! Let’s have sex.”

Granted, his interest hadn’t dawned until recently. “What do you mean no indication? I know for a fact I have complimented you, repeatedly, every time I visit.”

She tilted her head. “You compliment every woman you come in contact with. It’s like you can’t help yourself.”

Not every woman, but close. It made them feel good. He liked making people feel good. “With you I meant them.” Apparently his honestly didn’t impress her.

“That’s it.” She turned away. “I’m leaving.”

“No.” He reached for her arm. “Give me a chance to explain how this all came about.”

She turned, very slowly, and looked up at him with interest, waiting.

He cleared his throat feeling uncharacteristically nervous knowing whatever came out of his mouth would make or break their evening together. For some inexplicable reason tonight’s date with Emma mattered to him, more than any date he could recall. He wanted it to be a success. “About a month back I overheard you talking to Sadie at the Nurses’ station.”

“Spying, were you?” she asked with a set of raised eyebrows and another head tilt.

“Waiting,” he clarified. Truth be told it’d been more like lurking. Waiting he could have done anywhere, but he’d chosen to do it within earshot of Emma and her friend. “Sadie mentioned she’d narrowed down the candidates for your blind date. And you said...”

She hesitated.

He waited her out.

“Fine,” she snapped. “I said, ‘Make sure he’s good-looking, sexy and can handle a big girl like me.’” She put her hands on her hips. “For your information, I was kidding when I said that. I never thought—”

“What else?”

She looked away and quietly added, “I want to spend my twenty-fifth birthday doing exciting things I’ve never done before.” She stared off into the distance as if remembering the conversation. Something flashed in her expression, a look of longing, or a hint of desire to set some part of herself free. He could relate.

Brody stepped in front of her to regain her attention. “I saw my opportunity to take you out on a special date, and I took it.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you. Because I wanted to be the one to make your birthday special. Because you work so hard and care so deeply for each of your patients and their families. They all love you. I figured if anyone deserved to have their birthday wish granted you did.”

She stood there, watching him. So he went on. “When you left I pulled Sadie aside and told her to put me at the top of her list.”

“And she did, easy as that?”

He smiled. “If I’m to be totally honest, it took some convincing.” And sincere promises to make tonight Emma’s best night ever, to keep the specifics of their date private and to treat her heart with care.

“Come here.” She motioned him forward. Two steps and she reached up to his right shoulder and tugged. “Bend down.”

He did.

She placed both of her hands on his head, moving it from side to side as she checked his ears. An impromptu health screening? When she finished he said, “That was random. What were you looking for?”

“An earwig,” she said, straight-faced. “This situation has Cyrano de Bergerac written all over it.”

And he lost it. “You know what? I am sick and tired of you thinking I’m some dumb wrestler incapable of coherent speech or being thoughtful without someone prompting me. While I’m not in the habit of bringing my resume on dates, I’ll have you know I hold a Bachelor of Science degree in exercise science. I’d just started on my master’s degree when my now agent came over to me at the gym and offered me the chance to make more money than I’d ever dreamed possible.”

After discussing all the perks, which included an endless supply of hot, willing women, it hadn’t taken much convincing to get a then twenty-one-year-old Brody to drop out of school and join National Coast to Coast Wrestling Entertainment the very next day. “And I’ve granted the most Make-A-Wish requests of any wrestler in the NCCWE.” Every single one he’d received. “A total of forty-two visits to terminally ill children around the country, at my own expense. You’ve seen my visits to your hospital. I make similar visits in whatever city I happen to be in whenever it can be arranged. Does that make me good enough for someone like you, or do you need to hear more?”

“Why the secrecy?” she countered. “Why not just ask me out on a date? Embarrassed at the thought of your friends seeing us together?”

No. “So you think I should have come right out and asked you out on a date?” he asked. “How exactly should I have gone about it? Corner you in the crowded Nurses’ station? Maybe follow you into one of those little rooms? Staked out your car in the parking lot? And if I had, what would you have said?”

Her guilty expression told him all he needed to know. “On the first day we met you took one look at me and judged me as unworthy of your time and attention,” he told her.

“I did not,” she tried, but her words lacked conviction.

“You saw my public persona and decided that’s all there was. There couldn’t possibly be more to me than my looks, my flirting with the fans and the physicality of wrestling.”

She looked down at her pretty, bright red-painted toenails. “I’m sorry.” Then she tilted her head up. “So this isn’t some elaborate prank?”

“No.”

“You honestly wanted to take me on a date for my birthday?”

He nodded. “I knew you wouldn’t go out with me if I went the traditional route.”

She gifted him with her first smile of the evening. A small, almost shy one that didn’t last all that long, but it was something. “I’m having a hard time processing the fact I’m at a voyeur motel with The Bull.”

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