Page 11 of The Dire Reaction

My jaw hurts from clenching my teeth, but I pass the time scrolling on my phone and answering a few texts.

Thor sits, then lays next to me on the floor.

I sincerely hope she doesn’t wait much longer, or he’s going to be dead weight.

Her steps echo closer. My eyes zero in on the door to the hallway.

The blush on her neck starts as soon as she sees me, working its way higher with every step closer she takes.

“Good morning, Mister—Sam.” The blush completes its ravaging of her cheeks. I have a nearly uncontrollable urge to follow it to its source, hidden somewhere below her tight scrub top.

Tiny paw prints. Adorable. It would look better on the floor in a pile at her feet.

Fuck, I struggle to pull my thoughts to the present, standing and stretching the firm chair’s mark from my tailbone.

“Good morning, Doc.” At least my smile feels pure, unlike my thoughts. “Thor, come.” I make sure to meet her eyes when I say the last word. She seemed to like it when I directed her last week.

Her eyes flare for a split second.

Yes, she likes it.

It takes everything in me to not tell her to go into her office and follow her in there.

Patiently, I wait for Thor to stand. I bet he’s feeling a little groggy already.

I follow the tight sway of her ass down the hallway to the backroom, her vanilla scent teasing me. There’s a large stainless steel examining table with a ramp leading to the surface.

“Well, at least I won’t have to lift him.”

“I’m sorry, that’s what took me an extra few minutes getting that hooked up for him.” She busies herself along the counter, laying out her supplies.

“Next time, come and get me. I’m sure that isn’t light.” She turns back, giving me a small nod and a little half smile.

Thor hesitates at the bottom of the ramp. “It’s okay, buddy, I have another treat for you.” I let him get a good sniff of the meaty morsel, then use it to lead him up the ramp. Being that high up, he lays down quickly, swallowing the treat without even tasting it.

“Good boy.” With my hand resting on his shoulder, he relaxes on the table. His large head finds his paws with a sigh.

“Can you hold his paw again, please?” The tip of her tongue darts out, skimming across her lower lip before disappearing. She’s killing me with a death of a thousand cuts.

“Of course.” Sliding around the table, I lift his leg, still shorter haired than the other from last week’s shave.

Thor obliges by rolling onto his side, making it easier for me to hold his paw up.

Vibrations from the clippers tickle down my hand. The heat of her body radiates against mine. She’s inches away from me. I can see the rapid pulse on her blushing neck.

When she tilts her head to reach under his leg, she’s so close a single hair brushes my jacket. Glistening gold under the harsh exam lights, it bends and flexes a silent dance against my chest. Clinging to the rough nylon shell, it undulates with her movements, bowing under my breath.

When she moves away, I miss the sensation of the tiny tether.

What is going on with me?

Thor is settling into a deeper sleep when she moves the razor within the faint outlines of her previous rectangle. Before long, the yellow fluid is draining into him, one thick droplet at a time.

“Thank you for your help.” She gives a soft exhale, focusing her lips to sway the errant hair back in place.

“I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Chapter seven

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