invitation to kiss, but I didn’t quite trust my instincts with her, not after last time.
Without another word, I pulled her into the living room and gently prodded her to the couch.
“I need to apologize.” I remained standing in front of her.
“Don’t you think you should put on some clothes first?”
“Why? Is this bothering you?” Hot and bothered, I hope.
She flapped a hand in front of her face. I could almost believe she was nervous.
Even better. At least I wasn’t the one on the wrong footing for a change.
I kneeled in front of her, careful to keep the towel draped just right. “I treated you badly. And I’m doing a twelve-step program on how not to be a total schmuck thing. So, I’m sorry. I got out of control with you, Doc.”
“Apology accepted. And I shared blame in it, Bo. I gave you mixed signals despite my better judgment.”
“What are you saying?”
“I think you know.” She pursed her lips.
“I think I want to hear you say it.”
In a very uncharacteristic move, she rolled her eyes.
I grinned wider.
“I’m attracted to you.” She huffed.
“Was that so hard to admit?”
She pushed on my shoulder and shimmied back against the couch cushions. “Are you going to get dressed now?”
“Why? Are we going somewhere?”
“I thought we could go out to dinner, but not if you’re intent on remaining half-clothed.”
I stood slowly and looked her over fully for the first time since she’d turned up. The doc looked different. Hotter , if that was possible. Without the glasses or the suits, she looked like a vixen in the flesh. Her hair loosely framed her face, a fiery mane of deep russet and warm gold. Her dress was floor-length, but no way in hell was it prudish. The skirt floated around her legs in long layers, a vibrant yellow-green color, and when she shifted, a high slit opened above her knees.
I rubbed my hand over my mouth.
The top of the dress? Fucking. Fuck. It was constructed of some kind of halter thing in slate gray, the material gathered over her tits, deep cleavage between the two honey-gold mounds.
“Can you stand up for a sec?” I asked. My deep voice became even more guttural.
I almost lost my hold on my towel.
“Bo—”
“Please, Veronica. I swear to fuck if you put this on for me I want to see it all.”
She rose to her feet in a graceful move and swirled around. There was very little to the back of the dress beyond soft fabric, my eyes drawn by the sinuous curve of her spine, the slope of her shoulders, a wide metallic belt at her waist.
And suddenly I was waaaay into women’s fashions when it looked like that on V.
When she faced front, I licked my lips. Her long toned legs ended in sexy little sandals. No joke, I bent over to inspect that shit. She looked like a tigress. So insanely sexy.
She looked ready to bed.
I vaguely heard her voice in the background of the blood roaring to my dick.
“Sorry?” I asked. “Were you saying something? Because I think my body just caught on fire.”
“I can see that.” Stepping close enough I caught a hit of her light perfume, she raised her head.
Inhaling a shaky breath, I let it go with a rumbling groan.
“About dinner . . .” Her eyes flipped up to mine.
“Let me get this straight in my head, because you know that thing doesn’t work so good.” I grinned down at her, keeping my restless hands carefully away from her instead of pinning her to my body like I wanted to.
She hummed a little, clearly amused.
“Are you, Doctor Veronica Hartley, asking me out on a date?”
“It seems that way.”
I scowled. “I’d have asked you out if I thought that was allowed.”
“Well, it wasn’t when you were my patient. Why do you think I cut you loose?”
“’Cause I’m an incurable head-fuck?”
“Bo.” She placed a hand on my forearm. “You’re not an incurable head-fuck, but you didn’t want my help. Or wouldn’t accept it as my patient.”
“So, is that all?” Man, I started
Without another word, I pulled her into the living room and gently prodded her to the couch.
“I need to apologize.” I remained standing in front of her.
“Don’t you think you should put on some clothes first?”
“Why? Is this bothering you?” Hot and bothered, I hope.
She flapped a hand in front of her face. I could almost believe she was nervous.
Even better. At least I wasn’t the one on the wrong footing for a change.
I kneeled in front of her, careful to keep the towel draped just right. “I treated you badly. And I’m doing a twelve-step program on how not to be a total schmuck thing. So, I’m sorry. I got out of control with you, Doc.”
“Apology accepted. And I shared blame in it, Bo. I gave you mixed signals despite my better judgment.”
“What are you saying?”
“I think you know.” She pursed her lips.
“I think I want to hear you say it.”
In a very uncharacteristic move, she rolled her eyes.
I grinned wider.
“I’m attracted to you.” She huffed.
“Was that so hard to admit?”
She pushed on my shoulder and shimmied back against the couch cushions. “Are you going to get dressed now?”
“Why? Are we going somewhere?”
“I thought we could go out to dinner, but not if you’re intent on remaining half-clothed.”
I stood slowly and looked her over fully for the first time since she’d turned up. The doc looked different. Hotter , if that was possible. Without the glasses or the suits, she looked like a vixen in the flesh. Her hair loosely framed her face, a fiery mane of deep russet and warm gold. Her dress was floor-length, but no way in hell was it prudish. The skirt floated around her legs in long layers, a vibrant yellow-green color, and when she shifted, a high slit opened above her knees.
I rubbed my hand over my mouth.
The top of the dress? Fucking. Fuck. It was constructed of some kind of halter thing in slate gray, the material gathered over her tits, deep cleavage between the two honey-gold mounds.
“Can you stand up for a sec?” I asked. My deep voice became even more guttural.
I almost lost my hold on my towel.
“Bo—”
“Please, Veronica. I swear to fuck if you put this on for me I want to see it all.”
She rose to her feet in a graceful move and swirled around. There was very little to the back of the dress beyond soft fabric, my eyes drawn by the sinuous curve of her spine, the slope of her shoulders, a wide metallic belt at her waist.
And suddenly I was waaaay into women’s fashions when it looked like that on V.
When she faced front, I licked my lips. Her long toned legs ended in sexy little sandals. No joke, I bent over to inspect that shit. She looked like a tigress. So insanely sexy.
She looked ready to bed.
I vaguely heard her voice in the background of the blood roaring to my dick.
“Sorry?” I asked. “Were you saying something? Because I think my body just caught on fire.”
“I can see that.” Stepping close enough I caught a hit of her light perfume, she raised her head.
Inhaling a shaky breath, I let it go with a rumbling groan.
“About dinner . . .” Her eyes flipped up to mine.
“Let me get this straight in my head, because you know that thing doesn’t work so good.” I grinned down at her, keeping my restless hands carefully away from her instead of pinning her to my body like I wanted to.
She hummed a little, clearly amused.
“Are you, Doctor Veronica Hartley, asking me out on a date?”
“It seems that way.”
I scowled. “I’d have asked you out if I thought that was allowed.”
“Well, it wasn’t when you were my patient. Why do you think I cut you loose?”
“’Cause I’m an incurable head-fuck?”
“Bo.” She placed a hand on my forearm. “You’re not an incurable head-fuck, but you didn’t want my help. Or wouldn’t accept it as my patient.”
“So, is that all?” Man, I started
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