Page 11 of Unwrapped
“That’s typical for—”
His fingertips on my neck steal my words. I know he’s only checking my pulse, but I haven’t been this close to him since the night I nearly kissed him in college. I force myself to expand my lungs and bury my memories in the past where they belong.
“Your heart’s still racing.”
You think?
Before I can formulate a comeback, he slides his hands around the back of my neck and gently presses on the base of my skull. “Anything hurt?”
Just my stupid heart.
“No,” I croak, forcing the word past my linen throat.
He threads his fingers into my hair and palpates my head. The sensation is almost enough to make me weep with pleasure.
“Any nausea?” His husky voice rumbles down my spine as he continues his examination.
“No.” I force another deep breath, which only makes things worse. He’s wearing the same cologne he wore in college, and God help me, he smells amazing. My lower belly heats and flutters, telling me I need some distance between us before I get the urge to kiss him again. “This really isn’t necessary,” I blurt with more snark than intended. Attempting to soften my tone, I add, “I already told you I didn’t hit my head.”
“Yes, I remember.” His amusement-filled eyes meet mine. “But head trauma patients aren’t accurate historians, so I’m still going to check for lumps and bumps because I kinda know what I’m doing.”
He has no idea what he’s doing to my body. Or maybe he does, the bastard.
“Good for you.” I avert my gaze and cross my arms again, determined to hide my hardened nipples. Not that he could see them through my sweater, but still. One can never be too careful.
“My expertise is good foryou, actually.” He grips my chin and turns my head to face him, forcing me to look into his soul-stealing blue eyes again. “So how about you keep quiet and let me do my job?”
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
“That’s an easy one. I’m Dr. Dean West. I know you hit your head but try to keep up.” He snaps his fingers twice.
“I don’t like your bedside manner,” I snipe, my nostrils flaring. Even though I’m furious, my skin is flushed and tingling, and my panties are damp for the first time in years. It’s not fair he can do this to me. “I don’t remember you being this cocky.”
“I’m not cocky. I’m direct.” The hint of a smile plays at the corners of his plush lips. “And you’re an uncooperative patient.”
“That sounds like ayouproblem.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not my fault you can’t handle a simple patient interaction.” My smug taunt earns me a glower. Desperate to knock him down a few more pegs and level the theoretical playing field, I add, “I thought communication was the foundation of your profession, Dr. West?”
His eyes burn into mine. “Oh, I communicate just fine, sweetheart.” He tightens his grip on my chin and brushes his thumb over my lower lip. “And while I’ve got plenty of ways tomakeyou cooperate, I’d much rather you do it willingly.”
Visions of him tying me to the bed flood my mind, stealing what little sanity I have left. I have no idea if he’s trying to flirt, but God help me, it’s working. I’m ready to strip naked and throw myself at him. He can do an X-ray, CT scan, colonoscopy, I don’t give a damn. All I understand is my desire for him. It overpowers logic and reason, which is the only explanation for my next words.
“Maybe I want you to force me.”
Dean’s sharp inhalation parts his lips, and heat blazes in his eyes as he blinks through his shock. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Lena clears her throat. “I’m, uh, gonna head downstairs. It sounds like you two need some priv—”
Dean releases my chin and lurches to his feet, rushing from the room without another word. The air leaves my lungs when the door clicks shut behind him.
Lena’s widened eyes meet mine. “What the ever-loving fuck just happened?”
Good question.
