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I get it. I’m shaking, too.
All of that craziness happened so fast. My brain and my body are still struggling to catch up.
I step inside the small, dark room and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice quiet.
Mason swings around and gives me a feral look that indeed confirms he’s not okay.
I let my fingers stroke up and down his arm in a motion that’s meant to be consoling. “Do you need—?”
But before I can get my sentence out, Mason is pinning me against a metal shelf. And then, he’s kissing the fuck out of me.
Completely taken off-guard, I grip the fabric of his necktie and gasp. The second my lips part, his tongue sweeps inside searching for my own. The weight of his torso crushing mine ignites my nipples and send an arrow of lust straight to the space between my thighs.
I’m spinning like a fucking tornado.
I find myself melting into the kiss, responding to his growl with a whimper of my own. My mouth is catching up to Mason’s lips when he suddenly steps back.
Considering the wobbly state of my knees, I nearly fall without his weight pressed against me.
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” He takes one heaving breath after the next. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was just the adrenaline going to my head. I…I…”
Tingles zip and zap inside my tummy. “R-right…”
Without another word, Mason charges straight out of the room, leaving me behind. My head is spinning.
What the fuck is happening in this clinic??!
17
MASON
“Now remember, Mrs. Maple. You’ll only want to apply this once a day,” I say loudly to the sweet elderly lady when I finish writing up her prescription. “Don’t go overboard. It’s strong. And if it keeps itching, call the office and come back to see me, Mrs. Maple.”
My patient responds with nothing but a dazed smile, her eyes twinkling at me from behind her thick-framed glasses. I smile back, carefully placing the crisp sheet of paper in her cool, wrinkled hands.
Such a sweet lady. Reminds me of my Grammy.
I raise my voice an octave higher to be sure I’m heard. “Goodbye now, Mrs. Maple.” With a hand on her shoulder, I gently guide her out of the examination room.
And not a minute later, I hear my ‘sweet elderly patient’ talking smack about me in the hallway. “That new doctor has one hell of an ass, doesn’t he?” Mrs. Maple is saying to Dr. John as he passes by. “But why does he talk so damn loud? Geez Louise. Y’all need a volume control on that man.”
Well, shit.
When the old lady ambles off, I scribble a few notes in her file. I step out of the exam room and immediately lock eyes with Karli. She’s sitting at the reception desk looking frazzled.
I suck in a startled gasp. I turn abruptly and walk right into a closed door.
Ow-fuck!
With a dazed shake, I right myself, carefully turn the doorknob, and successfully walk into my office. Like I tried to do a moment ago.
I’m gonna need a minute to myself before my next patient.I close the door.
Here I am, saying Karli looks like a frazzled hot mess, when in reality, it’s me. I’m the hot mess. Well, at least themesspart. I’ve been struggling all afternoon.
I screwed up, and I feel like crap. I shouldn’t have kissed Karli again. Also, I probably shouldn’t have stayed up all night two nights in a row, getting to know her until the wee hours of the morning.
But talking is safe. Talking is harmless. Talking comes with a certain deniability factor. It allows me to lie to myself and take comfort in the belief that I’m notreallycrossing any lines.
