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“You’re right, there’s no doubt I’d shoot my load when you get your hands on me, but I think there’s been some mistake.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not Mr. Marx. Like I said, I’m Mac. I own the auto repair shop in town. The front desk person sent me in here to wait for you, but not for you to work your pretty little fingers up my ass.”

“Then why did you pull your pants down?” I countered, pushing my glasses back up my nose.

“When a beautiful woman wants my pants down, I’m not going to argue.”

I flushed at that, felt something akin to praised vanity that he called me beautiful. Which was a total lie. And his penis was still out there.

“What happened to Mr. Marx?” I asked, not sure what to do with his comment.

His broad shoulders went up in a casual shrug as he tucked himself back into his jeans, pulled them up. “Nervous short guy, comb-over? He told the nurse he was headed to the bathroom. I think he bolted. Not sure why now that I see you or what you were going to do.”

I should have felt totally offended, but I wasn’t. Somehow this guy’s words didn’t make me feel cheap. He made me feel… attractive, which was completely ridiculous. I had on scrubs, no makeup, my glasses and I’d yanked my hair back into a sloppy tail over twelve hours ago. I smelled like strong surgical soap, had non-latex gloves on and held a tube of lubricating jelly.

All of that reminded me that to a man like him, I wasn’t a woman, I was a conquest. There were more attractive women working at the hospital, women who were more worldly, less nerdy by far. Like Dr. Knowles, the asshole surgical lead, who had his sights set on me. And this guy, Mac? He did, too, it seemed.

But Dr. Knowles made me want to shower. Mac made me want to shower… with him. And that snapped me out of it because the gorgeous hunk in front of me would not be interested in that or anything else having to do with me, the dorky, virgin doctor.

He’d been aroused. For me. By me.

“Why exactly are you waiting for me?” I asked, confused about so much. “And in an exam room?”

“I have no idea why I’m in here.” He lifted his hand, indicating the sterile space. “Hospital security called me an hour ago. I guess they circle the lot. They found your car has a flat tire. They wanted me to connect with you, get it fixed.”

“I have a flat tire,” I said dumbly. I knew the security guys. They’d walked me out when I got off shift in the middle of the night. The fact that they remembered what kind of car I drove and that they noticed I had a flat was another reminder of why I’d moved to Cutthroat.

“You’re here to fix it,” I finally figured out.

“That’s right. Now would you mind putting that lube down?”

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. “Fuck me,” I whispered. The morgue was one floor down, so if I died from embarrassment, my body wouldn’t have too far to go.

Mac stepped up to me, grabbed the lube from my hands. My eyes flew open, and I looked up at his grinning face. “That can be arranged.”

2

MAC

* * *

“Where the fuck have you been?” Hardin asked when I climbed back into the tow truck. His glare would scare most people, but not me. Same went for his size. He was built like a fucking lumberjack, had the beard to match.

I’d been gone long enough the heat had seeped from the cab and our breaths came out in white puffs, not that he felt the cold. It was only November and was probably going to be a rough winter.

I laughed, turned the truck on, shifted as I tried to will my dick down. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me. I’ve been sitting here bored out of my fucking mind.”

He wasn’t into electronics, barely used his cell phone and only for calls. I doubted he even knew what an app was or, if he did, fiercely refused to give a shit.

“I see you left your book in your purse at home,” I snapped. When he glared some more, I added, “Fine.” Turning in my seat, I slung my arm over the steering wheel and told him everything.

His eyebrows were up beneath his watch cap by the time I was done.

“You went in to tell a guy you were fixing his flat. Instead you get a woman who wants to tickle your prostate. You get all the fun,” he muttered.

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