Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 157672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 788(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 788(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
“More like zonked out cold. One minute you were explaining tendonitis, the next you were snoring.”
“I snored?!?” she shrieks in horror.
“Lightly.”
“I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
“In your defense, tendonitis is dull.”
This gets me a small grin as she sits up and moves out of my hold. “Sorry about that.”
“Not a hardship, Willow. I found the game.”
She glances over at the television. “How can you hear it?”
“Don’t need sound to understand what’s happening in hockey.”
“Did I… the last thing I remember is your phone ringing. How did I… sleep on you?”
“I took the call, came back, and you were out at an awkward angle. I made you comfortable.”
“Sleeping on you made me comfortable?”
“You tell me. How was your nap?”
She doesn’t answer, still looking around dazed. “How long was I out?”
“Does it matter?”
“I missed hours of studying. Not very responsible.”
I sit up, tossing the remote to the other end of her sofa, and twist her to me. “Willow, I don’t know jack about your field. But the hour listening to you recite scenarios without even consulting your notes—and working through it, you know this shit.”
“The boards are no joke. I have to be ready.”
“And you will be.”
She stretches, the tiny tank rising high on her midriff. My gaze zones in on the exposed skin, my dick twitching again. She notices me moving to adjust myself and drops her arms, trying to cover her stomach. I catch her wrist, turning so her hand is linked with mine. “Don’t.”
“I think we may have passed the line of inappropriate.”
“What has been inappropriate?”
“I slept on you.”
“Who’s gonna know?”
“You and me.”
“I certainly don’t give a damn since I put you there.”
“We can’t do this.”
“Have lunch, take naps, watch games? What’s so off-limits?”
“You’re my patient.”
Here we go again…
At least she didn’t bring up my job. “As far as I know, we have crossed no ethical line here, Willow.”
Yet—but I keep this to myself.
“We can’t—”
“Come on, get up.” I haul her off the sofa and steady her on her feet. “We’re going for a walk.”
Wolf’s head perks up and his tail wags.
“A walk?”
“Yeah, babe. I can see you’re psyching yourself up to some bullshit excuse about us. Today has been good. Let’s not fucking ruin it.”
“It’s not a bullshit excuse. It’s where I stand on the issue.” She stomps her foot.
The heat in her eyes sends a blaze scoring through me.
Like the day in the clinic, her sass lights me up.
But unlike that day, this time we’re not surrounded by her co-workers.
Before she can protest further, I clasp the back of her head and slam my mouth to hers. She tenses, gripping my arms before her lips part and my tongue slips through, curling around hers.
I claim her mouth greedily,
Her defenses drop and she tips up into the kiss.
The slight taste of chocolate mixes with all that is just her. I slant her neck, delving deeper, wanting so much more.
Her hands clutch my shirt, this time her nails scaling through the fabric eagerly.
My dick pulses, pressing to her.
I want this woman laid out below me, naked and squirming. Tasting her, feeling her take me, hearing my name on her lips as she comes apart over and over.
I growl down her throat, rolling my tongue through her mouth once more.
Her whimper almost puts me over the top, testing my control. The little sense I have is screaming at me to shut this down.
I slow, brushing my lips along hers, feeling the warmth of her soft pants. Her eyes flutter open, dazed and bright. A second later, they cloud and she tries to pull away. “Talon—”
“Shut it, Willow. My good day just turned fucking great. You try and spew something to fuck it up or sling more sass, I can’t be responsible for what happens. Knowing how you taste, the feel of your tight body pressed to mine, watching you sleep curled into my side like you belong there—I like it a hell of a lot.”
Her eyes widen, flaming desire and hunger shining back.
My dick aches, screaming for relief.
“Fuck, we need to get out of this house.” I twirl her toward the hallway and gently push her forward. “Get your shoes.”
When she’s safely out of range, I call, “Babe, you have a shirt you can put on?”
“Why?”
“You’re with me, the less clothes the better. We leave the house, I prefer you covered.”
Defiance sparks in her expression. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. That top is sexy as fuck, it’s also barely covering you.”
“Did we time travel back to the 50s?”
I quirk an eyebrow. “You throwing sass?”
She narrows her eyes before clomping away. A few minutes later, she returns and I still, praying silently for patience. Her hair is back on top of her head, her lips coated with a shiny pink gloss, and her t-shirt tied at her waist, still exposing her waist.
“At least your tits are covered,” I mutter under my breath.