“Grayson.” My tone just as hard slipping out of his hold.
He only grunts while I move through the room like a bat out of hell. Opening drawers and unlocking the supply cabinets while eyeballing stock levels. I hadn’t bothered last night. There was no point when I wouldn’t be back.
The ruffling of paper fills my ears. My gaze drifting over my shoulder, only to catch Gray as he lines the tables for me before hopping onto the middle one. Pulling out the Toradol and a syringe, I set the injection on the table beside him. Pinching his chin lightly, I turn his head, palpating his jaw. The press of my fingers far from gentle, per the flex of the muscles and the veins popping alongside his neck. “How bad does it hurt?”
“Not bad enough to not taste you.”
I immediately let go of his face, taking a step back, that dark glint in his eyes making my heart race.
“Not here.”
Yet he still reaches for me, my body just close enough for his fingers to wrap around the front of his t-shirt I chose to wear instead of my scrub top. “My clothes look way too good on you.”
“Gray.”
My body is far too responsive to him. Too ready to let him strip me bare and bend me over one of these tables.
“Just a kiss, Dr. Thompson. I’ll feel much better after that.” The purr to his words almost makes me groan aloud.
“You’re so full of it.” My attempt to shove out of his steel grip, useless.
“Or you could be full of me.”
For as sweet as Gray can be, his filthy mouth has me on edge. “You have to stop saying things like that.”
The tip of his nose trails over my cheek, his arm looping around my back, holding me between his spread legs. “Why’s that?”
“Because it’s not normal to want to constantly have sex with you.”
A hardy laugh leaves him. His head falling back, but his grip on me only tightening.
“I really like you, Boss.” Then his mouth is on mine. Hot and heavy, all-consuming.
My fingers find their way into his hair. My favorite place to grab hold of him. The soft strands sliding against my fingers before knocking that damn backward ball cap he looks so fucking sexy in onto the floor.
Rough palms untuck my shirt before running up the bare skin of my soft stomach. Each closing over my breasts in a light squeeze.
“Gray, we should stop.”
“Uh, uh. You’re making me feel better,” he mumbles against my lips.
My groan vibrates up my throat as he captures my mouth. The slant of his lips over mine drawing me in before I open up for him. The dangerous dance between our tongues and my fingers in his hair sure to leave us naked and fucking on this floor.
One hand snakes back down my stomach, undoing the ties on my scrub pants before dipping behind the band of my underwear.
“Gray.”
“Shh, baby. No one gets to hear you moan my name but me.”
Long fingers slip between my swollen folds. Two fingers sinking inside me with ease. My nails dig into his shoulders, my lips against his neck, trying to stifle my moans. Anything so no one suspects what might be happening in here.
“What the fuck?” a male voice barks from the doorway. The knob smacks into the wall so forcefully I’m convinced there’s a matching hole to Gray’s from yesterday.
I immediately try to jump back, but Gray holds me in place, his fingers still working inside me. “Get out.”
I can barely see over Gray’s shoulder, but there’s no mistaking a very pissed Tate coming our way. Once again, I try to wiggle out of Gray’s hold, but he won’t release me. “Gray,” I hiss.
His fingers only move faster, the pad of his thumb finding my clit. My head flies forward, my face hitting the hard muscle of his chest. Lips tucked into my mouth, I fight to hold in every little noise that wants to escape because of Gray’s talented fingers.
