Page 69 of Night Shift

As we stood there, both seething and sizing each other up, I couldn’t respond, distracted by the way her thin T-shirt clung to her curves and showed the peaks of her hardened nipples. She wasn’t wearing a bra. In spite of my blinding anger, my body reacted to her. It was maddening how badly I wanted to fuck the smart-ass attitude right out of her until she wasn’t able to walk.

“Is that so?” I grumbled. “Well, maybe next time you’ll think twice before breaking my rules.”

“Maybe,” she replied flippantly. “Or maybe you’ll learn to loosen up a little. Try it sometime. You might like it.”

All I could do was glare at her, dumbstruck by her blatant obstinance. Sam, with her fiery hair and equally fiery spirit, had become an unexpected variable in the equation of my life. And as much as I wanted to maintain my usual dominance, I found myself intrigued, challenged, and inexplicably drawn to her sass.

Taking a slow, deep breath, I silently prepared for the confrontation that was bound to unfold. I took a couple of steps toward Sam, and she stood her ground, placing one hand on her hip as she cocked it to the side defiantly.

“Explain.”

“Explain what?” she shot back, her blue eyes glaring at me as her lip raised in a snarl.

“Dammit, Samantha! You know exactly what! You threw a fucking party at my house! How could you violate my trust like this after everything I’ve done for you?”

“Trust? What trust? You sent me your ridiculous house rules as if I was more of a prisoner than a guest! Obviously, I’m not a guest; I’m just an annoyance. Could you have been any more rude?” She crossed her arms over her chest and let out a frustrated huff. “It’s not like I had any other choice. You and your brothers made the decision for me to come here like I was a child.”

We scowled at each other.

“At least I invited you to stay when you needed it. Hell, you wouldn’t even let me into your apartment for a cup of coffee.”

“That was different,” she snapped.

“Was it? Or is it just a matter of being polite?” I moved another step forward, smirking. “Did you forget what they taught you in Manners 101 in nursing school, or is that not part of your Common Sense for Doctors handbook?”

“Please, like you know anything about manners.”

“Maybe I don’t, but I rarely have unexpected guests, and I sure as hell have never left anyone in my home alone before. I can’t believe you’d go so far out of your way to piss me off by throwing a party while I was gone. I’m disappointed in you, Samantha.”

Her face contorted into an expression of guilt and anger. “Well, it’s not like there’s a Dr. Thorin the Control Freak Handbook lying around!”

I tightly pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to take deep breaths and focus on the pain instead of the irritation that threatened to consume me.

That was when Sam’s cell phone buzzed on the end table next to me. I stared at the text notification on her phone for a long time, clenching my fists. My gut twisted with jealousy, and all I wanted to do was toss her damn phone across the room. Instead, I held it up so she could see it too. “Who the fuck is ‘Derek—Your future husband’?” I asked, my palm twitching with the desire to spank her for even daring to talk to a guy who thought he had a claim on her.

“None of your business! Give me my phone back.” Her expression twisted with rage. “Stop being so damn possessive, Atticus!” she exclaimed, finally grabbing her phone.

“So tell me, how many guys have you fucked since we were at my cabin, Samantha? Derek, my brother—how many more?!” I was screaming now, my control slipping away.

Her face flushed red with anger, and her eyes blazed. “Screw you, Atticus. You have no right to be jealous or judge me.”

“Jealous? No, I’m just curious.”

Sam crossed her arms defensively and stomped her foot. “Why do you care?! You don’t own me!”

I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off.

“Since we’re throwing accusations around, how many women have you fucked in this house, Atticus?” she hissed. “I bet you can’t even count the number of women you’ve fucked in your big ole king-size bed, or how about the number you’ve fucked right here on this sofa, or kitchen counter, or office, or hot tub… I bet, as old as you are, it’s been hundreds!”

“Enough!” I shouted, silencing her for a moment. I hesitated, unsure of whether or not to answer. This only seemed to fuel Sam’s anger. She tossed her hair and began to stomp away, but I caught her by the arm and spun her around. “Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere until I say so.”

“Let go of me!” she demanded, trying to pull her arm free. “This is ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous? You’re the one who started this by throwing a damn party in my house!”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a controlling asshole, I wouldn’t have felt the need to do it!”

“Fine!” I snapped, letting go of her and throwing my hands in the air. “Maybe I was a bit overbearing with the house rules. But I didn’t expect you to throw a fucking party as payback!”

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