Vincent set down the wipe and picked up a syringe from the tray. It was wrapped in sterile packaging, which he tore open. Mal watched as he took the syringe from inside and introduced the needle’s point to the top of a small bottle of clear fluid. The tip pierced the stoppered top and dipped into the solution. Vincent drew back on the plunger, filling the chamber of the syringe with the contents of the bottle.
The procedure was no different than it had been when Mal had been seeking traditional IVF. He’d given himself the injections at home in exactly the same way that Vincent was doing now, and never once thought anything of it. But as Vincent freed the syringe from the bottle of clomiphene phylacetate and tapped the air bubbles to the top for expulsion, Mal found his heart rate speeding up.
It wasn’t fear—he wasn’t afraid of needles, or doctors, and especially not Vincent—nor was it anxiety or embarrassment. The force that sent Mal’s heart racing was simpler than that.
It was arousal.
Vincent, handsome and quietly charismatic, was preparing the injection that would send Mal further into heat. He’d do the same every morning, pushing Mal to take more, and more, until Mal’s body gave him what he wanted. Then, when all was said and done, he’d leave Mal pregnant.
All of it by Vincent’s hand.
His sweet baby boy.
Mal’s cheeks burned. The semi-flagging erection that had lifted the front of his medical gown gained force and made itself known. Vincent glanced down at it, then met Mal’s gaze and held it. The same startling chemistry from last night crackled in the air, its electricity hair-raising. Mal’s pulse reached jackhammer speed, and all he could do was sit still and silent, hoping his face didn’t give him away.
Vincent was taking every step possible to get him pregnant. It was his job, but after what they’d shared, Mal couldn’t help but feel like it was so much more than that, too.
Vincent’s gloved hand met his thigh. Mal didn’t look down. He held Vincent’s gaze, too enchanted to look away.
“You’ll feel a slight prick and some discomfort,” Vincent warned, his eyes locked on Mal’s. “It’ll be over quickly. I promise.”
“I’m ready,” Mal promised.
Pressure. A moment’s pain, about the same as pricking his finger on a rugosa rose’s thorn. Mal kept his eyes on Vincent, even though Vincent had needed to look away.
Flowing heat, localized in his thigh. A hum of contentedness from Vincent at his job well done. The withdrawal of the needle from his muscle.
Vincent set the syringe on the tray. He selected a bandage, barely as big as the tip of Mal’s finger, and applied it to the site of the puncture wound. Lovingly, he smoothed the bandage flat with his thumb and met Mal’s eye again. The contact was brief, but Mal was hooked by it. His heart hammered. He wet his lips, wanting to draw Vincent to him and kiss him until their mouths could take no more, but he held back.
It was necessary. No matter what he wanted, this was the way it had to be.
“And you’re good to go,” Vincent said kindly. He nodded toward the curtained partition in the corner of the room. “Feel free to change back into your clothes and continue on with your day. We’ll see you again tomorrow, Mr. Collins.”
Mal slid off the examination table, well aware that he was fully erect. It was impossible to hide.
“I look forward to it, Dr. Rhyne,” he replied, then headed for the curtains, drew them, and changed.
Tomorrow, with any luck, he’d be able to stop himself from thinking of Vincent in such scandalous ways. If he did, then maybe he could spare himself the embarrassment of an impossible-to-hide erection.
Maybe.
But maybe was looking less likely by the second, especially when Mal pulled back the curtains only to find himself throbbing at the sight of Vincent tending to some entirely innocent paperwork. He’d need to find a way to pull himself together, and quickly—Dr. Biernacki’s eyes were on him now, and Mal had far too much to lose.
26
Vincent
KnotMyProblem: You’re holding out on us, @xVerity. We demanded details and you haven’t delivered.
LoveHarley: Maybe he’s still on his date
KnotMyProblem: It’s a weekday, Harley. I know you live in Sunshine, CA where work is negotiable, but I’m pretty sure xV has a mortgage to pay.
LoveHarley: Wow, unfair much? :P I work, you know. I’m at work right now
KnotMyProblem: Okay, okay. I was a little unfair. But let’s get back on topic: xV, did you take him home?
On the television, Leah fromHeaven, Lockeddid battle with a corrupted Celestial who wielded a double-ended scimitar. Nikki’s attention was locked on the screen. She was pressed against Vincent’s side so tightly that Vincent was sure she was trying to fit between his ribs. He kept an arm around her loosely, offering comfort, as the big battle waged. With his other hand, he composed messages to the Single Dads while he waited for Mal to get back to him. They’d been texting on and off since Vincent had finished work earlier that day.
