Page 32 of Biker's Babygirl

As soon as his words reach my ears, my pussy clenches. I can feel the liquid arousal between my legs, and I blush to think of him seeing it. Just moments ago, I thought I would do anythingto be called his “good girl” again, but I’m shaking my head at his order.

“Ginny, this is important,” he insists, his blue eyes somber. “If you have a fever, it means you have an infection. And forgive me, but an infection is something I don’t want to fuck around with.”

“Oh.” Relief hits me and I smile. “That’s fine, just take my temperature orally.”

He shakes his head. “Since we’re dealing with a possible infection, I need to get the most accurate reading possible. I’m going to need to track your temp to make sure you’re okay.”

“No.” I won’t budge. “Sorry, but… I’m not doing that.” I don’t really have a serious objection, other than it would be mortifying and reveal my arousal. And then he’d know how fucked-up I was. Who gets turned on by a doctor’s exam and being treated like a child? My blush has deepened and spread. I feel like my face is burning from my cheeks all the way down to my neck.

“I’m not going to take no for an answer, little one.”

Even his stern voice and the nickname doesn’t soften me. I cross my arms and squeeze my legs together, trying to make my body a stone that he can’t move.

“Be reasonable, Ginny. If you have an infection, we need to treat it immediately. Tell you what—what if I get Ellie in here?”

So he thinks that’s it? That I don’t want a male doctor?It would be adorable and sweet if I weren’t facing the problem of revealing my lust. And the thought of Ellie knowing is only slightly less mortifying than Duke himself finding out.

“I feel fine,” I insist.

“You have a fever,” he returns, and his voice is growing sterner by the minute.

“So give me some Tylenol.”

A muscle jerks in the corner of his mouth. “Who’s the doctor here again?”

Part of me wants to shrink back from his frustration, to give in, but my stubborn side wins out. I lift my chin and scowl. “Give me my shirt back.”

Duke does a double take. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t like this anymore. I want my shirt back.”

“You can have your shirt back after you obey, little girl,” he growls.

Somewhere along the line, this became about more than keeping my secrets. Now it’s a battle of wills, and for some reason I want to dig my heels in as hard as possible. I’m sick of men bossing me around. I’m sick of letting them. I’m sick of being nothing more than a paper doll that folds at their will. What about whatIwant?

But Duke is still not Lucas, nothing like him, and he’s still as stubborn as I am. Actually, probably more so. Clearly, he has more practice. Even as I scowl at him, all he does is stare back at me, unmovable.

“I want to go,” I try again, hating my voice when I hear the little-girl wispiness of it. Damn it! I need to sound sure, to sound strong! This is why men think they can make me do what they want. Any strong emotion—and I do meanany—has me sounding like a child. “I’m not a child,” I say aloud, sounding more and more like one as I speak, which makes me glare at him just to prove a point.

“Really? Coulda fooled me. You sure are acting like one.”

“Hey!” I return indignantly.

Duke continues as though I didn’t speak. “And the longer you keep this up, the worse your punishment is going to be.”

Outrage flares in my chest and comes out of my mouth as I snap, “You can’t punish me! You don’t have that right!”

“I’m your doctor.” He pins me with a glare of his own and I do my best to meet it without shriveling in the face of his take-charge manner. “And you are undermycare. But moreimportantly, you already consented last night when you agreed to let me take care of you. You’re not going to get sick and die under my watch. Is that understood?”

“Hmph.” My lower lip protrudes, and I know I’m acting like a toddler, but I can’t seem to stop myself. “Leave me alone! I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask to be here!”

“That’s it.” He walks to the door and throws it open.

In spite of the fact that I told him I wanted to go, somehow I know he’s not going to let me walk out. I pull my legs up and hug them to my chest, hiding my nakedness. “What are you doing?”

He turns to me, his expression impassive. “I’m going to call Shep and get him to give you a ride to the hospital.”

My mouth drops open in shock. Suddenly, the prospect of being separated from him, where I feel safe, seems daunting and terrible. “Wait. Don’t.”

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