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I shake my head. “No. He’s been for several tests. The symptoms come and go.”
“Attention seeking?” Cindy blurts.
“Definitely not. This man hasn’t taken a sick day in his life. He’s old school. Tough as they come.” I defend my patient, then add a smile to soften my stern response.
There is nothing I hate more in life than a qualified medical practitioner blaming a patient for making up their illness.
“I’d like to see him. Would it be possible for him to come into the surgery?” Jay says.
“No.” It’s a good idea, so why do I feel suddenly defensive and wound up? “I see him again on Friday.”
I nod to everyone as they leave, then collect my work bag and head to the treatment room to count my stock. I unpack unused stock and enter it into the system.
The feeling someone is watching me causes the hair on my neck to stand at attention. It’s soon followed by my new favorite scent in the world. I turn to find Jay leaning against the door frame. His large body takes up all the space. His eyes smolder, and his berry red lips, pinching a toothpick between them, cause me to lick my own.
“Can I help?” I bite my bottom lip to stop it from trembling.
Jay steps into the room, causing its usual spaciousness to feel condensed somehow. He doesn’t say a word, only makes his way toward me. I press up against the cupboards behind me. My blood rushes through my head and I feel dizzy, elated, and fucking horny. I can’t let him see the effect he’s having on me.
“Miss me?”
I snort. “Hardly.”
“But calling out my name while you’re getting it on with someone else is normal.” His voice is low and lined in danger.
It doesn’t scare me. It turns me on.
“What? Where did you…?” I gather myself. “What I do in my spare time has nothing to do with you.”
I put down the iPad and fold my arms.
The subtle aroma of spice, ocean, and him fill my nostrils. I’m instantly carried off to one of those scenes on a music video. White linen curtains blowing in the wind. The crashing of waves. The soft glow of gold as the sun bounces off sand dunes and our naked, entwined limbs. I shove my hands in my pant pockets and press my bum up against the bench.
“Oh, but it does, Simone.” He places his hands on his hip.
Now I know what those tiny bucks in the bush feel like when the lion has it cornered. I don’t want to admit it, but I don’t mind being trapped by this man. In fact, I crave it.
“Oh,” is all I can manage.
Fuck!
I grip the edge of the bench and clench my knees together. His gaze strokes my face, falls to my chest, and down to my toes, then drift back up.
The air between us thickens and his nostrils flare. God damn, I want to kiss him. I want him to kiss me. My nipples push against the fabric of my bra and a small groan escapes me.
His eyes light up and the slightest hint of a grin appears on his face. He comes to stand a hair’s breadth from me. The heat radiates off his body along with the masculine aroma only he can pull off. I can see every line framing his eyes. Those eyes, like chocolate whirlpools tempered in a bonfire. The tip of a red tongue appears at the corners of his mouth and runs along its length.
Mine does the same.
My core throbs. I swear if he stares at me any longer, I might come right here!
“I’ll have Myrtle merge our outpatient list for Friday then.”
He turns and walks out, leaving me with a lady hard on that will need more than one session with my trusty vibrator.
