Page 35 of Scrubbing In
I gently set the instrument down, sickened by this conversation. Before Tasha can reply, I step around to the end of their aisle and clear my throat. “Ladies, need I remind you this is an extremely inappropriate conversation to be having while at work?”
This is something I have no desire to listen to, but if I had let this conversation continue, I might have used that retractor. While Taylor Swift’sThe Life of a Showgirlshowed me I can pull off the color orange, I don’t want to go to jail for aggravated assault with a deadly weapon.
Two pairs of wide eyes stare back at me, both of them leaning against the shelves across from each other.
“I believe the others assigned to the core today have started pulling cases for Monday. You should probably be helping instead of back here,” I continue, arms crossed and hip cocked to the side. “If you feel there are enough people working and your help isn’t needed, I would be more than happy to send the both of you home. Flex your hours to help with our productivity numbers.”
Quickly straightening up, they both scurry past me.
I watch them until they pull a case sheet for next week from the printer tray to pick supplies. Only then do I release the breath I was holding, my chest heaving, and return to my office for a moment to collect myself.
Monday morning,I’m doing my weekly grocery shopping when I round a fruit display and my body jerks toa sudden halt. Because there is Julian, turning his head and looking right at me.
The smile that spreads across my face as my eyes hungrily devour him cannot be contained.
With ankles crossed, one hand resting on a shopping cart handle, his other holds a coffee cup up to his mouth. He looks like the epitome of calm, relaxed, and confident. Except for his piercing gaze that’s sweeping along my body. My pussy clenches at the heat and longing in his eyes, no doubt reflecting my own.
Clean up in the produce section!the blaring overhead speaker announces in my mind.
“What a surprise seeing you here, Doctor,” I say. My feet carry me a little closer, leaving behind the—thankfully!—imaginary puddle.
If I didn’t already know, it’s blindingly clear now. My craving for this man has not diminished, only grown. Exponentially.
He clears his throat before speaking. “The best surprise.” I bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud at his husky response, flushing with pleasure.
“God, I’ve missed that pretty blush.”
For the first time, I love that I am unable to hide my feelings with this physical manifestation I’ve loathed all my life.
Like a moth to a flame, I cross the remaining space separating us.
Coming to a halt in front of him, my gaze bounces back and forth between his eyes. Lifting his free hand, he drags his knuckles over the apple of my cheek and down to sweep my hair over my shoulder, caressing my neck along the way. I want to beg him to do more with those wicked fingers. When he pulls his hand back, his clenched fist makes me wonder if he shares the same naughty wish. Instead, I grab the cup out of his hand and take a sip.
The coffee isn’t scalding, but still my lips burn from his unwavering focus as I swipe my tongue across the corner of my mouth.
“Cinnamon?” I ask, handing him back his cup. I move around him, along the aisle lining the produce section, looking at him over my shoulder with a smirk.
I preen with smug womanly satisfaction when he blinks like he can’t quite believe I did that. Turning away, I reach for a jar of raspberry jam.
In seconds, he’s pressed against my back, caging me between his arms and the shelf. With his size, he shouldn’t have been able to move so silently.
“Pretty girl,” he growls, his lips and beard tickling my temple, “you are playing with fire.”
With the slightest bit of pressure, I press back against him, reveling at the hard ridge of his cock wedged against me, and look up at him over my shoulder. “Maybe the burn will be worth it.”
“Fuuuuck, Aleena.” The hairs along my forehead flutter with his deep exhale. I watched as his hands grip the shelf at eye-level, knuckles bleached with the force of his hold. “I can be patient. I want to be patient with you. But I’m only a man, pretty girl. So please, be sure this is what you really want.”
There is the gentlest pressure on the side of my head, followed by another press of his lips on the sensitive skin below my ear. My eyelids flutter shut, then snap open when he turns me around. Large hands hold my hips in a firm grip that I surprisingly enjoy. Then he whispers, “Because, baby . . . I am.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Julian
HoldingLeena again is almost more than I can bear. She’s achingly beautiful with eyelids heavy over her forest green eyes, cheeks rosy, and her teeth sunk into her plump lower lip. I could come from the lightest touch right now imagining her lips puffy, the bottom one bruised from her teeth right before she glides them around my dick.
With eyes wide, she watches as I reluctantly move away and adjust my aching cock. Groaning, I gently tug her lip free, swiping my thumb over the indents. “Save that lip for me,” I whisper.
Surprise has me shuffling a step back when she nods her head. Is she finally going to give me a chance to see how good we will be together?
