Stripped - By Brenda Rothert Page 0,13

he pressed his fingers into the bottom of one of her feet.

“Okay?” he asked softly.

“Yes. God, that feels good. Tell me about your night.”

“Couple of car crashes, a heart attack, a kid who swallowed a battery…”

“A battery?”

“Happens all the time.”

“Is this where the doctors and nurses come to get it on?” she asked, looking around the spartan room.

“The sleeping rooms are for crashing when you have really long shifts. But I’m sure they’ve been used a time or two for illicit activities.”

“Have you ever done it in here?”

“Um...”

“Really, Chris? Come on, no jealousy here. We’re just friends, remember?”

“Yeah, maybe I did once. Not this exact room, though. And it was a huge mistake.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s crazy.”

“Oh…so she’s a co-worker?” Abby asked, feeling curious about this woman. What did she look like? She felt irrational for hoping she was ugly.

“Do you still work with her?”

“No, she works on another floor.”

“Is she the one you broke up with recently?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure it’s really over?”

“It’s absolutely over. It only lasted a month, and that was a couple weeks longer than I wanted it to last.”

“What happened?”

“It’s weird talking about this with a woman.”

“Platonic, remember? We’re never going out. Let me in on the inner workings of the male mind, it may help me someday.”

“Okay,” he said. “She wanted to get married.”

“Oh. And women should never admit that, right?” Abby teased.

“No, it wasn’t because she wanted to get married in general. She wanted to marry me, after we went out twice. I already wasn’t feeling it by then, anyway. We had gone out with a bunch of people from work one night and this other doctor was hitting on her. Instead of being jealous, I was hoping he’d take her off my hands.”

“Chris, that feels so good,” Abby said softly. He had worked his fingers all the way up one of her feet to her toes, which he was rubbing individually. No one had ever touched her feet before, and she was surprised at the way the relaxing sensation spread throughout her body. She also felt an unexpected stirring of arousal from knowing Chris’ hands were on her. Though she had just reminded him their relationship was platonic, her body was still aware of how attractive he was.

She had been grinding her hips against men all night and it had done nothing for her, but this foot massage was awakening feelings that had been dormant for a long time. As Chris made his way up to her ankle and then her calf, she gave a low moan of desire. His breath hitched, and he moved his hands back down to her foot.

He finished with one foot and moved to the other, and Abby’s relaxation, coupled with her fatigue, made her drift into a light slumber.

“I’m falling asleep,” she murmured.

“That’s okay. Just relax,” he said. She heard the buzz of his pager and he paused to look at it.

“You need to go?”

“Yeah,” he said, disappointed.

Abby bundled herself up tightly in her coat, conscious that she had let her guard down with someone she hardly knew. She said a quick goodbye and made her way to her car, still thinking about the way Chris’ hands had felt on her.

Seeing him tonight had been sensual, beyond just the way he had touched her. Even his voice and the way he’d smiled when their eyes had met had reached Abby in a way she wasn’t used to.

She tried to shake it off, but the feeling stayed with her as she burrowed under the covers of her bed. Sleep took her quickly, but thoughts of Chris still danced in her subconscious.

Sara’s long, sandy brown hair was a near perfect match for Abby’s. She giggled with excitement as Abby ran a brush through it. Her hands were wrapped around the sides of the stool she sat on in the center of the small kitchen.

“Okay, what’ll it be?” Abby asked.

“Braids. Lots of little braids, with rainbow rubber bands on them. A different color on every one,” Sara said, giddy with her idea.

“That’s gonna take forever,” Audrey said from across the room.

“We can both braid, it’ll be fine,” Abby said. Audrey was turning 13 soon, and Abby was starting to get a glimpse of her newfound moodiness. Audrey rolled her eyes as she crossed the room to help.

“I want to take a picture of yours, Aud,” Abby said, reaching for her cell phone. Audrey brightened, smiling as she posed to show off the wavy style Abby had given her straight hair with a