I did, sitting closer this time. He told me about his life….his ex-girlfriend who couldn't handle his long hours, dreams of opening his own shop. I opened up about the burnout, the thrill of the forbidden in these sterile walls.
His hand found mine, stroking my knuckles with his thumb. “You deserve better than this, Tracy. You need someone to take care of you for once.”
My pulse raced. “And what if I like taking care?” I asked.
His eyes darkened. Then show me.”
I lifted his gown, fingers tracing the fading bruises along his side. His skin was hot, muscles twitching under my touch. He inhaled sharply as my palm flattened against his abdomen, inches from the waistband of his boxers.
“Does that hurt?” I murmured, voice husky.
No,” he breathed. “Feels f*****g good.”
Then I let my hand d
