Page 74 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

As he wraps my hand, I can't help but feel a surge of adoration towards him.

He gently handles my injured hand, blowing on my skin to ease the burning sting when applying the cleaning solution. His genuine concern in his voice as he asks, “Are you good?” and “Does that hurt?” suggests that he's genuinely afraid of causing me any further pain.

He’s so fucking cute; I want to bite his lip.

So I did.

Rurik immediately pulls away, his eyes wide with shock. He slowly lifts his hand and touches his bottom lip, feeling the little bump I may have given him.

“What the fuck, Briar.” He grunts, shaking his head as he retapes the bandage.

“Sorry,” Not really. “You’re just so irresistible.”

To my delight, Rurik's complexion flushes a bright shade of pink.

“You’re impossible.” He scoffs, shaking his head.

“You love it.”

His eyes flicker to my face, glaring at my smug grin. “If you don’t stop your shit and act like a real human being, I’m going to do a horrible job at this and make sure you get an infection.”

“Did you know your left eyebrow twitches whenever you’re annoyed?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Your lips press into a thin line when you’re pissed.”

His cheeks adorably puff as he lets out a sharp breath.

I squeeze his cheek with my uninjured hand, and he slaps it.

“Briar!”

“I love the way you scream my name.”

“You’re like a fucking child,” I could have sworn I saw his lips twitch into a small reluctant smile, but it may just be the delusion playing in my mind.

Before I can continue fucking with him, he inspects my hand again and says roughly, “You’re done.”

I glance at his work and beam, “Nice! Thank you, Rurik.”

I didn’t realize Rurik’s skin could flush even more, but it happens again after I thank him.

He mutters something under his breath as he gathers the supplies he used and stuffs them back into the first aid kit. After it clicks closed, he takes a heavy breath and turns to me.

I raise a brow, waiting for him to kick me out.

But he doesn’t.

He simply gazes at me, his eyes flickering to my lips and then back to my eyes. They dart back and forth across my face as if he’s determined to take in every detail, not wanting to miss a thing.

And then, he swallows hard.

Oof — There goes my control.

My sanity is dragged down along with it, too.

I fucking lose it.

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