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“No problem, Mr. Grant,” she replies with a smile as though she’s used to people walking in and demanding to be seen straight away. “What’s the nature of your visit, so that I can place you with the right specialist?”
“Sexual health screening,” he replies, his fingers flexing against my lower spine. “I want to be tested for everything.”
I glare at him. “What are you doing?”
“What’s necessary,” he clips, thanking the receptionist.
I sink into a plush white sofa beside Jet in the waiting area.
“I can’t believe you,” I whisper.
“It won’t take long.” He checks his watch and then pulls his phone out of his suit pocket and starts tapping away on it.
I put my hand over the screen, earning myself a dark arched brow. “Are you serious right now?”
“Deadly.” His blue eyes fix on mine.
“I don’t have anything.” I seethe. “But if it makes you feel better, then by all means, get a stick shoved up your dick to tell you that. It’ll match the one up your ass.”
I yank my hand back, enraged. Does he think I make a habit of sleeping around without protection? Getting fucked on kitchen tables in the middle of the night?
He slides his phone into his pocket and rises from his seat. He walks back over to the reception desk and then turns and points me out to the receptionist.
“Make sure my results go to Miss Roberts, please.”
The receptionist nods, smiling at me, and he walks back over, sitting calmly. He pulls his phone back out and begins tapping again.
“Why do I want them?”
A muscle in his jaw ticks, and he sighs and pockets his phone once more. “We’re here to reassureyou, Ava.”
“Reassure me of what?”
“That you’re safe. I don’t make a habit of not using a condom. But last night was…” He purses his lips, his eyes pinching at the corners. “… unexpected.”
“You’re getting tested to reassure me?”
“Why else?” He frowns. “I know I don’t have anything.”
“So it’s not because you think I gave you something?”
His eyes snap to mine. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“No!” I hiss. “I’ve never had a guy”—I glance around the waiting room—“comeinside me before.”
“Never?” Jet arches that brow of his again and I want to rip it off his face.
“Never.”
“Hm.” The corners of his lips lift into the closest thing resembling a smile I’ve ever seen on him. “What about in your mouth?”
I shift in my seat. “Maybe a couple of times.”
His lips flatten into a grimace.
“Oh, come on.” I scoff, sitting forward in my seat. “You can’t slut shame me for a couple of blow jobs. Itwas either spit it out or get it over my face. Liv said it stings like fuck if you get it in your eye.”
“You spat it out?”
