One Dirty Scot

He’s dirty, hot, and Scottish.
Hear him speak and you’ll understand . . .
So. Damn. S*xy.
He wears a suit like a hooker wears lingerie.
For the business of temptation.
But I’m not giving in.

Even if his hands were in my panties the night we met . . .
It won’t happen again.

We’re too different–I’m a doctor. Professional. Sensible.
He doesn’t date. He only f*cks.
And looks like he stepped from my Tumblr feed.

As the twin of my best friend’s man, he’s too close to home.
The idea is ridiculous. The fall out messy.
But the attraction is real.
It’s too complicated.
Even for a secret rebound fling . . . ?