Page 25 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

“Do mosquitos leave two little fang marks?!” I demand. “And then slither off into the trees?”

“Easy there, princess.” Duke examines the bite more closely, his warm hands wrapping around my thigh as he checks the puncture marks.

Thank god I shaved this morning, I think, and then immediately discard the thought because, hello! Snake bite emergency!

“I’m going to die,” I wail, holding onto his shoulder for balance. “I’m going to turn blue, and foam at the mouth, and keel over and die. They won’t even be able to have an open casket!”

“Nobody’s foaming,” Duke says impatiently. “Even if it was a snake – and I’m not saying it was – the breeds around here are all totally harmless.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t have deadly venom coursing through your bloodstream,” I mutter.

“And neither do you.” Duke growls, starting to straighten up. Then I catch another glimpse of movement in the grass.

“Look!” I yelp, pointing. He turns – in time to see a brown, mottled snake slither out into the open, and the disappear into a bush.

“See? I told you so. Snake!” I smack him on the shoulder, but my triumph is dampened when I catch a flicker of unease on his face.

“What?” I demand, my panic rising to another level. “What’s that face for?”

“Nothing.” He looks around. “Did you drive? We might want to swing by urgent care. Just to be on the safe side.”

I whimper. Urgent care? “I told you, I’m doomed!”

“You’re not doomed,” Duke says, and maybe it’s just my fear of impending death talking, but he doesn’t look so convinced. “It was probably just a grass snake, you caught him by surprise.”

“Probably?”

“I mean, nobody’s seen a rattlesnake around here in over twenty years.” Duke drags a hand through his hair again. “Odds are, you’ll be fine.”

“And if I’m not?” I demand.

He pauses, looking around again at the empty field. “Fine. There is one thing we can try,” he says reluctantly. “People say it’s an old wives’ tale, but my uncle swears his buddy saved his life one time when they were hiking the Appalachian trail.”

“What is it?” I demand eagerly.

“Lean back against that tree,” Duke orders me, getting down on his knees with his face level with my crotch.

“Wait, what are you doing—” I start to blurt, flushing wildly – before he gives me an exasperated look.

“I need to suck the venom out,” Duke says, reaching into his back pocket and producing a wicked-looking utility knife. “Now keep still.”

I don’t have time to protest before he takes the blade to my inner thigh, slicing a small, shallow cut in my skin. Blood wells up.

“Oww!” I shriek, batting uselessly at his bare shoulders. “What are you doing?!”

“Trying to save your life,” Duke growls. “Would you shut up for a damn moment, and let me?”

He leans in and fixes his lips around the wound, sucking hard.

Oh.

My.

My protests die in my throat. I’m stunned into silence as Duke sucks harder. Sure, it hurts like a motherfucker, but there’s a weird intimacy about having his hands wrapped around my bare leg and his mouth doing things.

And the sight of his head bent between my thighs like that…

Duke looks up, our eyes locking for a long, intense moment. Hello. I flush deeper, my impending death briefly forgotten…

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