Page 21 of Desperate Desires

For now, I’d try to content myself with dinner and TV.

* * *

Thirty minutes later.

* * *

Who the fuck was I kidding?

I wasn’t a gentleman, and my body was keenly aware of the sexy little doctor who’d remained at my side throughout the Christmas cooking special she wanted to watch.

Who knew slicing vegetables could be so damned sexy? When that fucking dickhead chef with the English accent pulled out a long piece of filet mignon for his famous Beef Wellington recipe, Michelle hummed in delight, and I almost creamed inside my shorts.

We’d finished eating ten minutes ago. After she brought the dishes to the kitchen, she came back to see if I needed anything.

The answer, of course, was yes.

I should have just let her go, but I couldn’t do that. So, I asked her for a favor.

Something I should have known better than to ask for. But I wasn’t a good man. And I had to see if the desire I felt was just one sided.

Could it be? Did she feel it, too?

“Hey Doc, help me, will ya?”

“Sure, what do you need?” she asked.

“A shower. Please,” I added when she hesitated.

“Okay. I understand. Let me get a waterproof dressing, and I’ll change that bandage for you and help you to the bathroom.”

I dipped my chin and thanked her quietly, knowing exactly what I wanted to get out of this.

It was unfair.

It was too soon.

But if there was anything getting shot right after the holidays had taught me, it was that life was short.

There were no bad days, like my tattoo said. Every day was a goddamn gift.

But it was good practice to expect the unexpected. To live life to the fullest.

Fact was, I wanted Michelle Davis, and I wasn’t a very patient man.

I wanted her, and I was gonna have her.

A few minutes later, I was standing in the bathroom with a towel around my waist when Michelle walked in.

I could see I’d shocked her.

But really, who could blame me?

I had to show her I was more healed than she thought. Something in my blood, in my very soul demanded it.

Maybe it was just stupid male hormones. Or something primal that made me want to prove I could take care of her.

Not that she needed me to. She did a damn good job of it on her own.

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