Page 4 of Getting Off

She was still touching him.Her fingers rested lightly on his right temple, and Dylan wondered why she hadn’t dropped her hand.Except, he didn’t really want her to drop her hand.He liked the way it felt.

How long had it been since Dylan had been with a woman?He couldn’t remember exactly, and that had nothing to do with hitting his head.Hell, he loved a naked man as much as he loved a naked woman, but in the past couple years, he’d simply drifted toward men.They were far less complicated.Dylan didn’t have time for complications when he was about to turn pro.

That said, there was definitely something about a woman…

Thiswoman, for example.

“Are you single?”Dylan asked her suddenly.

She dropped her hand and drew back.“I can’t imagine what that has to do with your health, Mr.Pierce.”

“I have a concussion, remember?It gives me the right to ask crazy questions.”Despite his attempt at a quick recovery, Dylan felt stupid.That question had been as subtle as a train wreck.Nice job.Besides, why did he care whether Doctor Beautiful was single or not?He couldn’t see her riding motocross or climbing behind the wheel of an off-roader.Why would he chase her?

“You’re certainly a handful,” she said but didn’t answer his question.“That’s doctor slang for a ‘problem patient.’”

He laughed.“See?You aren’t as uptight and stuffy as the rest of the doctors around here.”

She actually flinched a little at his words.He felt a spike of concern.He’d said the wrong thing that time.No smile for him.

He reached out and touched her hand.“Hey.Sorry if I was out of line there.”Then he grinned.“I have a concussion.”

She laughed.“So that’s going to be your excuse from here on out, is it?”

“You got it, doc.You have a great smile too.I’m saying that strictly as your patient, so don’t get any ideas,” he warned.“Now, what do you do for fun?”He rubbed his chin.“Let me guess.You golf.You doctor types always golf.”

“What’s wrong with golfing?”

“Spoken like a true golfer.”

“I don’t golf!”

“Rock climbing?”

“Do I look insane to you?”

No, but shedidlook beautiful.He couldn’t deny that.“So you’re afraid to get scraped up?”

“You have a very unique view of the world, Mr.Pierce,” she said archly.“Do I look like I want to not only risk my life but risk an injury that might render me incapable of doing the job I spent hundreds of thousands of dollars educating myself to do?”

Dylan only laughed.“Fair point.But did you ever do anything physical?”

“Dance.”

“Ha!I knew it!”

She glared at him.“What are you talking about?”

“You look like a dancer.”Dylan did not bother to hide his appreciative grin.

“What does that mean?”

Hell, if she demanded he go into detail.“Long legs, narrow hips, nice, tight…”

“What?Ass?”

“Is that the medical term?”he asked.“I wasn’t sure.”

He knew he’d probably gone over the line on that one.But he wanted her to know that he found her attractive, even if she shot him down.He wanted to compliment her.

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