His lips slammed against mine at the same instant my back hit the wall. The second the words left my mouth, we burst into flames. God, his expression was corrupt and victorious as he walked me backward toward a wall. I had no idea my wrist was an erogenous zone, but in Greg’s hands, every inch of my skin felt that way. Breathing hard.” He seized my wrist, pressed his index finger to my pulse point, and peered down at his watch, counting the seconds. He sauntered over, and his confidence seemed to build with each step, widening his wicked smile. My dirty doctor fantasy come to life.Īnd he gazed back at me like he wanted to eat me whole, which was more than fine with me. It didn’t matter because he looked fucking perfect. It didn’t matter that he had faint lines around his eyes hinting at his fatigue, or that his normally perfect hair looked disheveled, as if he’d run a hand through it one too many times. My gaze traced the blue lettering over his right breast. His suitcoat was fitted and white, and he completed the look with a turquoise stethoscope slung around his neck. He wore black dress pants, a white collared shirt and a cobalt-colored tie. I turned to face him, and all the air whooshed from my lungs. This had to be the place where doctors delivered their post-op summary to families. It was a nicer waiting room than where I’d just been, but much smaller. Excerpt The Doctor (Nashville Neighborhood Series #1) by Nikki Sloane
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