Page 38 of Slap Shot Daddies

She rolls her eyes, a hint of reluctant acceptance in her demeanor, but she doesn’t push me away when I take her place.

She gives me a detailed rundown of what needs to be entered, and I start typing.

Kenzie leans against the desk, her uninjured hand propping up her chin as she watches me intently. The sweet scent of her vanilla lotion wafts toward me, mingling with the faint antiseptic aroma of the clinic, creating an unexpectedly comforting blend.

The way she looks at me?

Goddamn.

It’s enough to make a guy forget his own name, lost in the depths of those captivating eyes.

Kenzie’s voice is a soft, lilting melody as she dictates notes to me, each word a gentle chord that my brain struggles to focus on.

It’s the way she’s looking at me, the warmth in her dark, expressive eyes, the way her teeth catch her bottom lip when I glance up, like a fleeting moment of vulnerability captured in time.

She doesn’t even notice when she shifts closer, her hip brushing against my shoulder, sending a ripple of awareness through me. The warmth of her body seeps into mine, a teasing, tantalizing whisper of what I could have if I just reached out and took it.

God, I want to reach for it.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” she muses, her gaze following my fingers as they dance over the keyboard with practiced ease.

“I’m a man of many talents,” I reply smoothly, my voice infused with playful confidence as I shoot her a teasing grin.

Her lips quirk in a soft, almost secretive smile, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she lifts a hand and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear in a way so endearingly charming it makes my stomach flip and twist in ways it shouldn’t.

Fuck!

I continue typing, but let my hand brush ever so lightly against hers on the desk. It’s a brief, feather-light contact, barely there, yet enough to send a delicious jolt through me.

She doesn’t pull away.

The tension between us is thick now, an electric current buzzing and crackling like an unspoken challenge in the air. I recall last night in vivid, technicolor detail, the way she melted under my touch, the way she whispered my name with a breathy, intoxicating intimacy…

I swallow hard, forcing myself to refocus on the screen.

If I stay here too long, I’m going to do something very unprofessional.

The notes are finished, standing as silent witnesses to the tension that hangs thickly in the room. I know I should leave. I should.

But I remain in her office chair, betraying my better judgment. Kenzie closes her laptop with a soft thud, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Thanks for helping," she murmurs, her voice carrying a breathy quality that seems to linger in the air longer than it should.

"Anytime," I reply, my words stretching out as I linger just a moment too long. There's a palpable energy buzzing between us, like a live wire sparking in the silence.

She gazes at me, her eyes searching mine as if trying to solve a puzzle, deciding whether to push me away or draw me closer.

I stand, stretching slightly, feeling every muscle extend and contract. She mirrors my movements, stepping toward the door with a hesitant grace, her fingers curling around the handle with a mixture of resolve and uncertainty.

A smirk unfurls on my lips, quick and instinctive. Before she has the chance to pull the door open, I reach past her, my arm brushing against her, and,click.

I lock it, the sound echoing softly, yet with finality.

Kenzie’s breath catches, a sharp intake that seems to reverberate in the charged atmosphere. I turn back to her slowly, savoring the sight of her cheeks coloring with a delicate blush, her lips parting slightly in a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

"What are you doing?" she whispers, her voice barely more than a breath.

I don’t respond with words. Instead, I close the gap between us, my gaze intense and heated, as though the very air around us is thickening with the rising temperature. Then, I kiss her.

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