Page 16 of Just George

The doctor who saw me wanted to give me a tetanus shot along with a shot of penicillin, but I explained again about being in the reserves and that I was up-to-date with all my vaccines.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if it hurts?” I teased Kurt as he helped me put my bloody shirt back on.

“No. I know it hurts, despite the way people on TV and in movies sort of shrug off a bullet graze.”

“Right?” I sighed, appreciating him buttoning my shirt back up. “I feel like people have an unrealistic view of what it’s like to be shot or see a dead body or be chased by a serial killer.”

He chuckled as he eased my arm into the sleeve of my jacket. “Do you have anything for the pain at home?”

I grimaced. “Probably more things than I should have. My medicine cabinet belongs in a drug dealer’s lair.”

“Okay, good to know,” he said, grinning, which made those pretty eyes of his gleam in the light. “Are you ready for that burger now?”

I shook my head. “I know it’s late, or early, depending on how you look at it, and you probably have patients to see tomorrow and––”

“Stop,” he murmured, slipping his hand around the side of my neck.

I was going to say something, but the warmth of his skin, the stroke of his thumb along the line of my jaw, and how husky his voice was had me mesmerized. I was good and gobsmacked by his attention, and every drop of protest died in my throat.

“I want to feed you, all right?”

I nodded as he stepped in close, into the V of my parted legs, and put the palm of his right hand over my heart.

“And after I feed you, I want us to go to your house and pack an overnight bag, and then I want to take you home with me so I can watch you sleep.”

“Watch me sleep?” I asked playfully, trying not to let him hear how much I wanted that, or the stuttering of my breath or the pounding of my heart.

“Stop,” he said with a smile, but his eyes were serious. “If you don’t want that… tell me now and I’ll put you in a cab. But if that sounds good, then just let me take care of you.”

I swallowed hard, because yeah, I wanted that, but I didn’t need him feeling sorry for me. “You’re not doin’ this because you––”

“I’m doing this because I want to spend time with you, and I was going to ask if I could see you again when you dropped me off, but our evening got a bit strange.”

“A bit strange?”

His grin was good because it did incredible things to his face. He lit up, and the weight that I saw that he carried seemed to fall away.

“So is that a yes?” he asked me, and one eyebrow lifted, daring me to say no.

“Yeah, that’s a yes,” I blurted out, and it was too fast, almost frantic, but I didn’t want him to have that moment of realization where he thought that maybe taking home something broken might not be good for him.

“Good,” he whispered before he leaned in and kissed me.

I thought I had an idea of who Dr. Kurt Butler was. Like he’d be gentle and I’d need to heat him up to the degree of lust and manhandling that I required in someone whose bed I was going to be in for any reason. Turned out… I was wrong.

Good God, the man could kiss.

He took my mouth, and it was mauling, and his tongue was rubbing over mine as he tipped my head back and tasted and feasted until I had to break the connection for air.

“How long has it been?” I husked as he licked over my bottom lip, his hands on the sides of my neck no longer gentle but tight to keep me still, hold me there.

“Much like you,” he whispered hoarsely, “there are always people but nothing important. Nothing real.”

“I’m up for real,” I managed to get out before his mouth settled back over mine.

It was better the second time, the slow build of heat, the ache in my chest, the electricity that crackled between us that might have combusted if the nurse hadn’t shown up.

“No screwing in the ER,” he informed us.