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Bryn’s huff practically blows the building off its foundation.
“Two days to flush her system,” my dedicated physician explains, “two days to stabilize it, and two to three days to see improvements.”
“And if you don’t?” the gray knotted tank top wearing beauty investigates.
“I’ll escort her on the chopper to the hospital myself,” Hamilton firmly declares.
“Good because if you don’t, if you find some other bullshit excuse or experiment to try instead, I will hot wire that ’65 Shelby Mr. Wilcox is hiding in the back of his collection, drive it straight through the front door of this place, and take her to the hospital my goddamn self.” I peek over my shoulder just in time to see her fold her arms across her chest. “I’m not speaking Klingon, so I know you both understand.”
There’s no reluctance from Hamilton to offer reassurance. “Absolutely.”
“Mr. Wilcox.”
I meet her glare for a second time. “How do you know about my Shelby?”
“Pretty sure that’s not the takeaway she was requesting…” is murmured under the doctor’s breath.
“Found it Saturday afternoon during the hunt for where they parked my car.” Outrage briefly transposes into mirth. “It looks like its owner. Desperate to be ridden.”
My cock swiftly begins to rise in my black sweats as if it’d like me to call on it for a solution to the proposed problem.
I’m not desperate.
I just haven’t been interested.
Although, I most certainly am now.
Hell, if I jerk off to thoughts of her jerking me off any more than I already am I might need to request a prescription for dick chafing.
Hamilton doesn’t bother hiding his chortles during his rise to his feet. “I’m going back inside to tend to my patient; however, I will continuously be in contact with the two of you during this process. Please, message or text me if you have any questions.”
His exiting the front porch area precedes me announcing, “I’ll have Park extend camera access to you so that you can visually check in on her at your leisure whether that be from your phone or the laptop in the library.”
“And what exactly will you be doing if Doctor Hates House is right? If she is being poisoned by someone on your staff?”
“She isn’t.”
“But. If. She. Is?”
“Then they will be handled accordingly.”
“That better be billionaire speak for a box jellyfish style death sentence.”
Unsure of what she’s detailing, prompts me to remain silent.
“Painful,” the exasperated female declares. “Extremely. Painful.”
“Ah.” An amused grin threatens my expression. “Yes. We’re on the same page.”
“Good.”
Sounds of her footsteps begin almost immediately after the clipped word prompting me to call out, “Wait.”
They immediately cease. “For?”
I can do this.
I can…ask a woman to have dinner with me.
