Page 58 of The Torturer's Target

He liked being in control and sure as hell wasn’t a sub. And, in that case, it was a great thing that they had different sexual preferences.

So why the hell are you getting mad?

“No man in his right man would wanna fuck you anyway, you frigid, heartless murderer,” Bose shot back, pushing her hand away from his shirt. “You’d freeze the poor man’s dick off. It’d be like fucking a corpse.”

Tesiera punched him so hard his face whipped to the side. “Tell me, does that feel like being punched by a corpse?” she drawled with a smirk.

“To hell with this.” Bose raised his fist—

“Stop it, both of you,” Max barked.

They turned and looked at him, even Clinton, whose eyes flared at his boss’s sudden anger. Bose gritted his teeth and dropped his fist.

“What is wrong with the two of you?” Max continued. “This how you behave every time you’re alone? You are adults, and no one is going to babysit you. Better figure out how to work together or one of you is fired. And don’t think you’re immune, Bose,” he added, looking at Bose.

The smugness disappeared, and Bose carefully surveyed him. We must have stepped over a line because Max is furious.

“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again,” he stated, lowering his head in a respectful bow.

“It better not.” Max said and turned his attention to Tesiera. She inclined her head in acknowledgement of his directive.

Max turned and walked away, leaving them all to stare after him.

An hour later, he ended a call with Dr. Albertson, the neurosurgeon caring for his patients while he was off, and prepared to shower. As he was undressing, there was a soft knock on his door.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door to find Tesiera standing in front of him, a calm expression on her face. “May I come in?”

He stepped aside to let her pass. She walked in and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, her eyes downcast.

“I’m sorry for what happened,” she said quietly. “It was unprofessional.”

Max had calmed down and had admitted to himself that he had overreacted, so her apology took him by surprise.

However, he didn’t let it show. Instead, he nodded. “Apology accepted. It would be nice if you got along with Bose, Tesiera. He has been with me for ten years. I know he can be…prickly, but he does have the best intentions in mind. He’s still angry with you because of what happened.” Because you tried to kill me twice, he thought, but didn’t add.

“I understand. I’ll do better.”

Max nodded. “That’s all I ask.”

Silence descended upon the room; the ticking of the clock on the wall was the only sound they heard.

His eyes settled on her injured shoulder. “Punching Bose must have hurt.”

Tesiera shrugged. “I didn’t notice.’’

“Let me see it.”

She hesitated, then she unbuttoned her shirt enough to pull her arm out, revealing a tightly wrapped bandage.

Max covered the distance between them and carefully removed the bandage to inspect the wound. The wound was red and slightly swollen but scabbed over, and new tissue had started to form.

“It looks good,” he said, his eyes focused on the wound. He began to redress it.

“It’s fine, Doc. I really don’t mind,” she attempted to push her arm back into the sleeve, but he stopped her with his hand.

“I care about it, so let me do this. It won’t take long.” He turned away and went to his dresser to retrieve the first aid kit.

Tesiera was trying not to look at his biceps. She never thought it’d be so difficult to keep her eyes to herself but it was proving to be impossible. His defined muscles flexed as he grabbed the kit and her mouth fucking watered.

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