“You’re incorrigible,” she says, her fingers slipping under my chin. They’re cold, her skin smells of antiseptic as she tilts my head back, inspecting my wound. “There’s already a bruise. I swear the other one just disappeared.”
“Maybe you should kiss it better?”
My question makes the flush on her cheek deepen, and the image of her raising on her tippy-toes, her soft lips brushing against my cheek, pops into my mind. I’ve been thinking about that kiss since the other day. Couldn’t erase it from my mind. Her sweet scent. The softness of her mouth. Her warm breath. Her fingers sinking into my shirt as she held on for a few seconds.
Dammit, just thinking about it has need stirring to life in my gut.
All from a chaste kiss on the cheek.
Screwed.
I’m so fucking screwed when it comes to this woman.
Jessica jabs me in the chest, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Stop trying to provoke me, Williams.”
I lift my hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I like to see you blush.” My voice drops lower as my knuckles skim her cheekbone. “I think it’s cute you’re so worried about me.”
“If you cared, you wouldn’t get yourself injured,” she mutters before pressing a gauze pad to my chin.
I hiss softly as the alcohol touches my open gash. “Fuck. Really, Trouble?”
She just quirks her brow at me. “I thought you were fine.”
Dammit, she’s got me there.
“I am fine, but this fucking hurts.”
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be a baby.”
“You’re enjoying this,” I protest.
She doesn’t even try to hide her smile. “Just a little.”
Her grip on me grows stronger as she cleans the gash before softly blowing on my sensitive skin. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches. Maybe a Band-Aid.”
Jessica starts to pull back, but I tighten my legs on her hips, holding her hostage. “Hell to the no.”
My response is immediate. The sudden motion makes her lose her balance, and she presses her hand on my chest to steady herself.
“Matthew…”
She sucks in a breath, both of us suddenly aware of how close we’re standing to each other. She’s positioned between my spread legs, our faces mere inches apart. So close I can see hereyes widen. See the gold specks shining in her brown eyes, and the freckles peppered over the bridge of her nose.
“The guys at the station won’t let me live it down.” My words come out raspy as I watch her nibble at her lower lip.
Her thumb skims over my flesh almost absentmindedly, rubbing the underside of my mouth as she watches me with those big amber eyes.
“What are you doing this weekend?”
She blinks, clearly confused by the change of subject. “Working. Why?”
“Saturday night?”
“Day shift. I should be done at seven.”
“There’s a movie night out at the gazebo. Come with me?”
Her tongue darts out, sliding over her lower lip. I can see her pulse beating wildly, so I slide my hand down the side of her neck, feeling the frantic beat.
