Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse. Lily Harlem
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‘Would you like me to give you a shave?’
He opened his eyes and looked straight into mine. They were a stunning shade of dark blue, like the deepest part of the ocean. ‘Would you mind? Have you got time?’
‘No, not at all, and yes I have time. It won’t take long.’
‘That would be great then.’ He smiled again and then clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. ‘I hate being so dependent. It’s not me at all.’
‘Hopefully it will only be for a few more weeks, and that’s why we’re here, to help.’ I reached for a razor and a can of shaving foam. Flooding my hand with white froth and beginning to spread it around his jawline, the short tough hairs were sharp on my fingertips and the feeling briefly reminded me of my fun with Tom the night before.
‘Well, thanks, I appreciate it, everything you all do,’ he said, his mouth a dark slash in the frothy mess on his face.
‘No worries.’
Silence descended upon us as I began to carefully scrape the wet razor down his right cheek. I was aware that he was watching my face intently, almost like he could see the reflection of what I was doing in my eyes. I was leaning in close, I had to, breaching personal space was the only way to perform my task, but if he looked downwards there was no doubt he’d get a flash of cleavage.
But he didn’t look down, he carried on starting intently at my face and carefully twisting his mouth to stretch the skin on his cheek.
Little waves of prickles ran up my spine, nape and onto my scalp. I had a sudden sweep of self-consciousness. I was being scrutinised, closely, but I was also being trusted to wield a razor against a stranger’s face and throat. It was a great privilege to be so trusted. Who was I kidding? I was hot and tingly because Ted was an incredibly handsome fireman and I was performing an intimate task for him. Donning a nurse’s uniform didn’t quell my appreciation for a gorgeous bloke with a sexy smile, a roguish voice and a history of saving women from burning buildings.
I straightened and jiggled the razor in the water to rid it of the stubble and used foam. ‘Carry on telling me about Greece. I sense there’s an “until” coming up,’ I said with a smile then nibbled on my bottom lip.
He twitched his eyebrows. ‘You’d be right. I was seventeen when it all started to go wrong. I had dreams of going to university in the UK and studying marketing.’
‘Marketing, interesting.’ With my fingertip I gently smoothed the froth beneath his nose, trying my best not to get it in his nostrils. He kept very still while I shaved around his top lip, just pulling his mouth down a little to elongate the skin.
Top lip smooth, I carried on shaving, moving around to the opposite side of his face. Still he didn’t talk, he stayed silent, his breaths warm and tickly on my arm. My own breathing became slow and steady as I concentrated.
The stubble came away easily, leaving a perfect stretches of golden skin in its wake. I repeated the process over and over, sloshing the razor in the bowl of water after each downward track. Eventually I finished and dabbed his now silky jaw with the damp flannel and a warm towel. Admiring my work as opposed to the ruggedly handsome planes of his face – or so I told myself.
He touched his cheek to his hunched up shoulder, rubbed briefly, as if checking my work. ‘Thanks, that’s great. I can tell you’ve done that before.’
‘A few times.’ I smiled, tipped the water away and refilled the bowl. ‘So did you do your marketing course?’
‘Yep, I applied to several universities and was accepted into Manchester. I couldn’t wait to go and start my new student life. Though to be honest, thoughts of girls were considerably more prominent than my desire to learn. Well, unless you counted my interest in studying the female form, that is.’
He laughed as I wiped the warm flannel over his broad chest. His muscles were firm and solid, neatly squared pecs and small dark nipples. Just a hint of hair over his sternum. His flesh held an olive glow, like the Greek sunshine was still within him. It was impossible not to appreciate his sturdy, sculpted physique, though I was careful not to linger with the soapy flannel. That wouldn’t have been professional at all.
‘And I was right,’ he said as I dried with a long sweeping movements. ‘The girls at uni were hot. Hot with a capital H. And willing too. Not like where I’d grown up. Back in Athens, I’d been seeing this local girl, Phedra. She had long black hair; it felt like silk and never tangled in my fingers. I found it fascinating how I could stroke right through it and it flowed like water and tickled the back of my wrists. You know, this sensitive part?’ He lifted his hand, the underside of his wrist facing my way.
I nodded, gently raised his arm higher and soaped beneath it, swirling the flannel over curls of golden underarm hair. ‘Was she your first love?’
He allowed me to hold his arm up. ‘Phedra? Yes, I suppose she was. Hormones go a bit nuts when you’re that age, don’t they? I wasn’t sure if I was in love with her, like as a person, or her body. She had great tits … shit, I’m sorry, Sharon.’ He frowned. ‘You don’t want to hear this.’
‘Hey, don’t mind me, and of course I want to hear your story.’ I towelled where I’d washed, the underarm hair fluffing as it dried. ‘And believe me, there isn’t anything you can say that will shock me. I’ve been hanging around this place too long for that.’
‘I’ll try and shock you then, shall I? Just for the fun of it.’ He grinned.
‘Go on, tell me, just for the fun of it, and I promise not to faint.’ I smirked wickedly then pressed my lips together to ensure I didn’t appear flirty, because that wouldn’t be right at all. Not with a patient. Though I couldn’t help but think it was a damn shame Ted was going to be stuck in here, out of action for a few months. We could have swapped numbers and arranged a naked rendezvous.
He matched my smile and nodded at his beer again. I held it for him as he slurped, then set it back on the table.
‘Phedra, like I said, was a hottie. Her breasts were the subject of all my fantasies. Many a time I tossed off thinking what they’d feel like if I squeezed them together and put my …’ He hesitated, then shrugged, as if making a decision to just say it as it was. ‘My dick between them. Warm, soft, tight. I even had a photograph of her with this itsy-bitsy bikini on. I would set it above two pillows and pretend it was really her. Not that I looked at her face, just her cleavage. Which was all well and good, this fantasy,’ he said, ‘until Uriana, our Greek maid, walked in to my bedroom and caught me coming all over Phedra’s smiling face.’ He paused. ‘Am I shocking you yet?’
‘No, not at all.’ A bit, maybe, but by his candid honesty more than his teenage actions.
I washed his abdomen meticulously and tenderly. Thinking how much physical exercise he must have endured to get such deeply ridged muscles etched into his stomach. I suddenly became aware that I was prolonging the task and he’d stopped chatting to watch me. Quickly I reached for the towel. ‘And then what?’ I asked, swallowing tightly.
‘It’s good to be able to talk,’ he said, watching me dry. ‘It’s like going on a trip down memory lane. I’ve spent too much time just sitting here thinking lately. Weird how thoughts swirl inside your head, when you have an injury that could be life changing.’
‘Hopefully not “too” life changing,’ I said. ‘And, yes, it is good to talk, so come on, what happened when the maid walked in? You’re keeping me in suspense.’
He widened his eyes and shook his head. ‘Oh, yeah. Shit, I thought the roof was going lift off the villa. The sight of me, butt naked, on my knees …’ He hesitated, blew out a breath and shook his head.
I tried to rid the image he’d created in my brain. It was pretty hot, especially if I imagined him in that position as a man, and not as a teen.
‘Yeah, me,’ he went on, ‘butt naked, on my knees, exploding over a photo of a smiling brunette. The maid screams,