Page 38 of Pucking My Grumpy Roommate
“Is that so?” His voice dropped to that lower register that made heat pool between my thighs. “And what kind of examination did you have in mind?”
I knelt beside him, my lab coat still on, my hair escaping from its once-neat bun. “I was thinking something hands-on. Very thorough.”
Austin’s eyes darkened as I reached out to trace a finger along his collarbone, collecting a bead of sweat.
“Your scientific method seems unorthodox, Dr. Ellis.”
“The best discoveries often come from unconventional approaches,” I murmured, leaning closer until I could feel his breath on my lips.
Austin leaned in, his lips just a breath away from mine when my phone rang with a shrill, persistent tone that I instantly recognized as my “Dr. Barnes Emergency” ringtone.
“Fuck,” I groaned, pulling back. “I have to take this.”
His eyes flashed with amusement. “I’ve never seen you move so fast away from me before.”
“Trust me, it’s not by choice.” I fumbled for my phone, hitting the video call button with a silent prayer that whatever lab crisis had erupted could be solved quickly.
Dr. Barnes’ stern face filled my screen. “Dr. Ellis, we have a situation with the resistant strain cultures. The overnight incubation is showing aberrant growth patterns that don’t match our projections.”
“Aberrant how?” I asked, immediately switching to professional mode despite Austin’s distracting presence just inches away.
“The colony morphology has changed significantly. I need you to review the time-lapse imagery I’m sending now anddetermine if we need to adjust the antibiotic challenge protocol before morning.”
I nodded, trying to focus as Austin silently rose to his feet behind me, stretching his arms above his head in a way that displayed every rippling muscle in his torso. The movement caught Dr. Barnes’ attention.
“Am I interrupting something, Dr. Ellis?” Her voice could have frozen lava.
“No! Not at all,” I said quickly, angling the phone away from Austin, who now wore a devilish grin. “I was just...reviewing some anatomical research.”
Austin snorted quietly, and I shot him a warning glare.
“I see,” Dr. Barnes replied, clearly not believing me. “Well, if you could tear yourself away from your...research...I need your input on this urgently.”
“Of course. Let me get my laptop.” I moved to the kitchen counter, spreading out my notes while trying to ignore Austin, who had followed me and was now deliberately flexing while reaching for a glass in the cabinet.
As Dr. Barnes began explaining the growth anomalies, Austin positioned himself just behind my laptop, visible to me but out of the camera’s view. He raised an eyebrow challengingly before slowly, deliberately licking his lips.
My voice caught mid-sentence. “The beta-lactamase inhibitor should prevent—” I swallowed hard as Austin silently mouthed what looked suspiciously like, “I want to taste you again.”
“Dr. Ellis?” Dr. Barnes prompted. “You were saying about the inhibitor?”
“Right. Sorry.” I cleared my throat. “The inhibitor should prevent the resistance transfer, but if we’re seeing colony changes, we might need to increase the concentration.”
Austin chose that moment to take a long drink of water, his throat working as he swallowed, a drop escaping to trail down his neck and over his chest. The memory of my tongue following a similar path last night flashed vividly in my mind.
“Dr. Ellis, are you unwell?” Dr. Barnes asked sharply. “You look flushed.”
“I’m fine,” I squeaked, then coughed to lower my voice. “Just a little warm in here.”
“Perhaps you should adjust your thermostat,” she suggested dryly.
Behind my laptop, Austin was now silently mouthing, “You’re so fucking sexy when you talk science,” while his hands made obscene gestures suggesting exactly what he wanted to do to me after the call.
“The thermostat isn’t the problem,” I muttered, then quickly added, “I mean, yes, I’ll adjust it. Now, about those growth patterns?—”
I forced myself to stare at the screen, focusing with every ounce of willpower on the images Dr. Barnes was sharing. But Austin wasn’t done with his torment. He moved silently beside me, still out of camera range, and held up a small notepad just where only I could see.
In bold, unmistakable handwriting, it read:
