“What about it?”
A challenge.
I keep moving until she’s standing directly in front of me.
Then I gently take her hand.
She lets me.
That’s all the encouragement I need.
I guide her backward toward the folding privacy screen beside the exam table.
Her breath catches. “Axle.”
“I’ve got an issue.”
“Oh?”
“A serious one.”
“And what would that be?”
I back her behind the screen, where the rest of the clinic disappears from view, and my hands settle on her waist.
Her fingers curl into the front of my shirt.
“What’s the problem?” she asks quietly.
I lean down.
My mouth brushes the side of her neck as I take her hand and guide it to the front of my jeans.
She inhales sharply.
“That’s the problem.”
Her eyes flutter closed.
“Mmm, I see. That is a big problem,” she murmurs.
“Told you it was serious.” I smile against her skin. “Needs immediate attention.”
“Uh-huh,” she says as she caresses my growing erection through the denim.
“Do you have a cure for something like that?” I ask as I kiss my way up to her jaw.
That earns a sigh. The kind that makes me want to hear it again.
I lift my head.
Her cheeks are pink.
And for one dangerous second, I forget every reason I have to behave myself in the middle of the day.
She glances toward the front of the clinic. “I have a PT patient coming in ten minutes, and I need to prep,” she says.
I groan against her mouth.
