He leans back, and my eyes inadvertently follow the motion. But I’m sucking in a breath and almost falling off my stool when I see what’s right in front of my face.
Fully erect, ungodly sized, and mouthwateringly decorated... From base to tip almost, there are numerous barbells sticking through his cock, torturing me with all things bad for my health.
Did I just whimper? Yes. Yes I did.
“It’s called a Jacob’s ladder,” he says, still sounding smug and not giving a damn that his dick is right in my face.
What am I supposed to be doing? Why am I between his legs?
I curse myself when I realize I’m licking my lips, and I dart my eyes back to his leg, resuming the task at hand.
“Must be a bitch to walk through a metal detector,” I retort, trying not to act as affected, breathless, and damn tempted as I am.
He laughs a throaty, raw laugh that has my toes trying to curl. He shouldn’t be able to even laugh sexy.
“Just let me know when you want to learn to climb a ladder, Belladonna. I’ll be glad to teach you.”
My face heats again, and I try very hard to remember once again that I’m supposed to be getting him and his Jacob’s ladder out of here.
“I’m guessing you do use that line a lot,” I mumble, eliciting another sexy chuckle from the jerk who refuses to pull down his gown.
As soon as I’m finished, I hand him the standardized list of all the post-care shit he needs to do. Give it air, clean the wound, blah blah blah. I run over the highlights as quickly as possible, inching back toward the door the entire time.
“There’s a party at my house this weekend,” he randomly interrupts. “A few kegs, good music, that sort of thing.”
“Try not to get stabbed again,” I say with a saccharine sweet smile and heavily batted lashes.
He snorts derisively.
“Come hang out with me. Make sure your patient is being well taken care of,” he says, smirking at me.
Walking toward him, I steel myself, ready to do what needs to be done. I pat his cheek, smile at him, then roll my eyes. For some reason, he sucks in a sharp breath as the cocky look fades to surprise.
“Not a chance in hell,” I tell him.
I turn around, putting my back to him, ignoring the sting just of just that touch. Should have kept my gloves on and left his skin alone.
At least I’ll have a pretty image and a sexy sound in mind when I fire up my Magic Wand tonight. And in my fantasies, the bad boys are safe.
“Don’t act like you don’t want to,” he drawls, recovering from whatever seemed to stun him. “Your eyes have been undressing me since you got in here.”
I laugh while rolling the traitorous eyes.
“No need to undress you when you’re showing me the goods for free. Besides, I grew out of keg parties in college.”
“I can promise I’d make it worth your while,” he goes on.
I hate my body. Really, I do. Especially when it fires up in response to the threat—or sensual promise. Coming from his lips, it almost sounds like a threat.
Turning to face him, I prop a hip against the counter and cross my arms over my chest. Mostly to hide my girls’ reaction to his offer, since I wore a thin bra today.
“You may not hear this often, but you’re not my type. Sorry, player. Looks like you’ll have to find someone else to stab you with a broken beer bottle this weekend.”
He smiles bigger, much to my dissatisfaction. That was not supposed to make him smile.
“It’s Ethan. Not player,” he points out, mocking my comment from earlier. “And you’re a shameless liar, Bella.”
Bristling, I shift my weight on my legs.