Page 215 of The Doctors Will See You Now

Yeah. Even I couldn’t deny I was pretty damn smitten over Scott Shepard. The fact that his presence outside my door urged my stupid smile to grow to record-breaking lengths was proof of that.

Damn, he looks good. As handsome as ever, Scott was dressed down in jeans and a white Henley shirt with the perfect amount of scruff covering his strong jaw—the now-growing beard making a much-approved reappearance. And with a pizza from Boca’s in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, he came bearing gifts. Obviously, he wasn’t just a pretty face. The man was intelligent to boot. The full fucking package.

After one more impatient rap of his knuckles, I put him out of his misery and opened the door.

“Well, hello.” Scott smirked, not bothering to hide his blatant perusal of my body. I was dressed less than casual in a tank top sans bra—because fuck bras—and a pair of little sleep shorts, but I didn’t miss the little glint of approval shining from his brown eyes.

His hungry gaze ran the circuit from my legs to my face twice, and when he started round three, an amused smile kissed my lips.

“Do you want to come in or just stand there and gawk at me?” I asked and leaned against the doorframe. Never mind that I’d just spent the better part of three minutes doing the same through a half-inch-diameter hole.

He grinned. “I’m quite enjoying my gawk.”

“Okay, then,” I said and kicked the door shut a second later. “Just knock again when you want to come inside,” I called through the door, and he laughed.

“Let me in, Frances,” he demanded, but his voice was more amused than anything else. “I promise I’ll behave.”

“Stop calling me Frances, and you’re a total liar.” I hope. Scott’s version of misbehaving generally ended in orgasms for me. Lots and lots of orgasms, mind you.

“Let me in or else I won’t share the pizza.”

“Pepperoni?” I asked with skepticism in my voice.

It better be fucking pepperoni. I only ate pizza with pepperoni and extra cheese. Everything else was a waste of time and toppings.

“Yep.”

“Extra cheese?”

“Yep.”

I opened the door again, and Scott stood on the other side—looking like the only man in the world for me—with a giant smile fixed across his mouth. Before he could say anything, I snatched the pizza box from his hands and sashayed my ass down the entryway and into the kitchen.

Luckily, he followed my determined lead, shutting the door behind himself and smiling like a handsome loon once he reached the kitchen.

God, this man. I really liked him.

More than like…

The mere idea of that thought should have scared the ever-loving shit out of me, but for some reason, my chest didn’t feel tight, and my usual fight-or-flight response seemed to be napping. Which was confusing as hell, but also made sense at the same time.

I liked his mind. And his sexy as fuck body. And the way he could always make me laugh my ass off with effortless, witty sarcasm. And good God, his sexy smiles and sexy smirks—two markedly different things—and his ability to be charming even in the most stressful of times.

I was a sucker for it—all of him. I wanted to lick every inch of him and everything that made him the man I couldn’t seem to resist like a motherfucking Charms Blow Pop.

But minus the gum in the middle. Just his perfect penis, preferably inside of me…

Yeah. I liked everything about Scott Shepard.

Do I just like him, though? Or is it something more than that? I thought to myself as I grabbed some plates and wineglasses from the cabinet.

Scott didn’t give me any time to delve into that thought process any further. He was always active, fluttering around or twirling my hair or tapping a finger on my leg. It was like he had all of this excess energy when he wasn’t on the emergency room floor, but he was an expert in expelling it and being at ease simultaneously. I’d never seen someone manage such a complicated combination so flawlessly before. Tonight was no different.

He spanked my ass playfully, and I turned to find him standing behind me with a flirtatious grin stamped across his mouth.

“What was that for?”

He shrugged. “I blame the shorts.”