Page 27 of Examining the Bond

Air stutters out of my lungs, and I fight to keep my expression emotionless. Now isn’t the time to let my professionalism slip, even though all I want to do is admire how fucking sexy she is.

I step up to the side of the table, close enough to touch her, and a shiver rolls down my spine as her scent intensifies, stuffing its way into my lungs. My alpha instincts flare, fighting and clawing to take over, but I manage to keep myself in check. I breathe through my mouth, hoping it will help alleviate the perfume making my head dizzy, but I can almost taste marshmallows…

The perfect peaks of her pebbled nipples are visible through the bra and tank she’s wearing, and I try and fail not to stare. The urge to reach out and brush one just to watch her reaction is quickly becoming an uphill battle.

I press the disk of the stethoscope to her chest, the race of her pulse instantly pounding in my ears. Even without counting the beats, I can tell her heart rate is elevated. Whether it’s because of the injection or my proximity, I can’t be sure.

Yet another reason why I shouldn’t continue treating Riann as my patient.

What if my involvement skews the data and fucks up the diagnosis?

I listen, counting out the quickened beats of her heart, admiring its pretty rhythm. I move around her chest, listening for anything out of the ordinary, inching closer and closer to her breasts.

Finally, the temptation becomes too much. I succumb to the fiery impulses twisting my insides into painful knots, risking it all when my hand sweeps over one of her nipples as I pull away.

It’s just a brush, a whisper of a touch, but she gasps as I whip my hand away. For a horrified second we stare, eyes locked, while time seems to slam to a stop around us.

I might have just fucked up and jeopardized my job, but the way her scent explodes around us suggests that she’s hardly upset. In fact, if I had to guess, she enjoyed that as much as I did.

Too close.

I’m getting too close, playing with the fire that’s dancing through me by just being near her.

“I'm sorry,” I say hurriedly, squeezing the disk of the stethoscope. It’s warm now from being pressed against her flesh. “That was an accident.”

“It's okay. I don't want to interfere with your work,” she says, blinking up at me as she pushes her chest out. “You can touch me more if you want.”

My brain goes fuzzy.

She has to know what she’s doing.

There’s no way she could be oblivious to the effect she’s having on me. Any alpha in my shoes would be at her mercy.

She flutters her lashes, tossing her vibrant red hair back to display the smooth column of her neck, making it so fucking clear what she wants. My throat tightens.

My eyebrow hitches as my eyes drop to that naughty strip of porcelain skin dipping between her breasts. I edge in close to take another hit of marshmallow.

“And if I take you up on that, Miss Saunders?” I press the disk to her chest again, brushing it over her skin, her collarbone.

Her breath falters as she stares up at me, and I feel like I’ve won; I’ve called her bluff. I expect her to back down, to apologize for being so forward—like a good little omega would—but she spreads her legs wider like she’s making room for me to settle between them. Her black skirt rides even higher up her thighs, and a torrent of sweetness swirls through the room.

Blood pounds in my ears as her pulse kicks up, and I continue exploring her skin with the stethoscope. I dip it lower, tracing the curve of her breast, before teasing the piece over her hardened nipple.

“Oh fuck,” she whispers, the sound making my knees weak. I gently swipe over the pebbled peak again, following the stethoscope with my finger, and a delicious whine drops from her lips.

I freeze, and panic flashes over her face.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry!” she gasps, pink exploding across her pale cheeks.

“Don’t apologize.” My voice is low and growly, and I start to back away. I’m coming on too strong, too fast. I don’t want to scare her, especially when so much is on the line.

However, I’ve barely made it a half-step away before her hand shoots out and grabs my tie, pulling me back toward her with a jerk of her wrist. I fly forward off balance and crash into her, pinning her down before I’m able to catch myself. In the flurry of movement, my stethoscope falls off and clatters to the ground.

One of my hands lands on the exam table, holding me up just high enough that I can see Riann’s shocked expression, and the other—the one that was teasing her nipple seconds ago—is conveniently cupping her breast.

If anyone was to walk through the door right now, I’d lose my job. I’d have my license stripped, and I’d never be able to practice medicine again.

Yet the only things I can focus on are her parted lips and the dreamy, lust-filled look in her eyes. My tie is still gripped firmly in her hand, which is pinned between us, but she’s not urging me to move. If anything, she’s begging me closer.