She blushed. “Henry.”
* * *
She had been sentfrom hell to torture me.
That was the only explanation for my reaction to her nearness.
I deleted an entire column of numbers for the second time, furiously tapping the keyboard delete key. Each time I tried to concentrate on processing the data from my latest formulation, Catherine entered my mind. She was standing across the lab and yet all I could smell were the lilies from her perfume. Instead of the electric hum of my various pieces of lab equipment, I listened to her softly humming as she checked off various inventory items.
I slammed the laptop shut.
Catherine turned to me with a start.
I shrugged as I reached for a glass graduated cylinder. “Computer froze. Wi-Fi is crap in the lab.”
She eyed me skeptically before returning to her task.
I filled a pipette with precisely the amount of metformin hydrochloride I needed based on my calculations. If I could slow the hepatic reaction with dipeptidyl peptidase-4 inhibitors I may be able to inhibit the glucagon release, which I believed was responsible for my overexuberant reaction to the formula.
It was my only rational explanation. The formula obviously released too much adrenaline and glucose into my system, causing an almost hallucinogenic response leading to my belief I was Mr. Edward Hyde, not Dr. Henry Jekyll. If I could control that reaction, I could control my body’s response.
The skirt of Catherine’s dress brushed the backs of my thighs as she passed by me. It was raining outside, and the scent of wet grass clung to the damp hem.
My cock hardened.
So much for controlling my body.
There was just something intoxicating about her. The way she stood and stared at me with complete, almost unnerving stillness. Her beautiful big eyes trained on me as if my every word was scripture. For years, my one and only passion had been perfecting Bl88dX. I had thought of little else, but now… now my thoughts were consumed by Catherine.
I didn’t need to turn around to know precisely where she was standing. I couldfeelher presence. It was as if my senses were heightened around her. Could this be the formula still reacting within my body?
“Dr. Jekyll—I mean Henry—would you like me to order more benzoylecgonine? You seem to be running low.”
God. Her voice. It was as though I could feel her fingers lingering in caresses down my spine as she spoke. I pressed my hips against the sharp metal edge of the lab table where I stood, hoping the pain would lower my raging cock.
Catherine took off her glasses and set them on top of a nearby filing cabinet as she adjusted her hair. I watched as a cascade of shiny mink waves fell over her shoulders only to be swept back up into a severe bun on the top of her head. My fingers flexed as I imagined what those locks would feel like running over my palm.
I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. What did you ask?”
“Would you like me to order more benzoylecgonine? You are almost out.”
Her question broke through the sensual fog she was unknowingly weaving around me. “What? That can’t be right.”
Benzoylecgonine was the primary ingredient in cocaine. It was always kept under lock and key, its supply closely monitored. I hadn’t used it since formula variations Bl88dX3 and X4. There should be plenty in stock.
Forgetting about my indecent hard-on, I walked toward her. Just as I approached, there was a loud clap of thunder. It was so boisterous it rattled the glass vials on a nearby table as lightning flashed through the small laboratory windows.
Catherine cried out. Her body collided with my chest.
Without thinking, I embraced her, tightening my arms around her.
She turned her pale face up to me.
God help me, I loved the look of fear in her eyes. There was just something so primal and visceral about seeing another human being at their most vulnerable and unprotected.
Pink tinted her cheeks as the tip of her small tongue shot out to lick her lips. “I’m so sorry. The thunder gave me a fright. Ever since I was a child, I’ve been frightened of storms.”
I stared down at her, wanting her to acknowledge the indecent press of my cock against her stomach and at the same time dreading if she did.