Page 45 of The Potter

Without pausing, Vance lifts my leg higher, opening my hips with a slight angle toward his chest. My shirt rides up my thighs, but I can’t bear to look. The cool air is enough indication that I’m no longer covered.

Great, just freaking—ow, crap. “That hurts,” I moan.

“That’s because you don’t drink enough water throughout the day.” His voice sounds like velvet mixed with an ounce of arrogance. “And potassium.”

“Thank you, Five-Food-Groups. I’ll remember my banana and water tomorrow along with leisurely stretches by the water cooler.”

Vance chuckles darkly, sounding like a sexy health demon. “You know, for someone who begged for my services, you sure don’t take my advice.”

“That’s because your advice is smuuug—ahhh.” His fingers knead the tight muscles in my calf, and it sends a shock of pain throughout my lower body.

“Deep breaths,” he encourages, cradling my knee to his chest, the other hand drifting high on my thigh, dangerously close to my center. The tension and tightness seem to evaporate like a balloon releasing into the air as his fingers work the muscles there.

I drop back onto the floor, letting my head hit the plush rug. “Promise we’ll never speak of this again?” I close my eyes, fighting the urge to look at his face since I’m literally dripping on his fancy rug.

How will I be able to look at him tomorrow after he’s seen my pussy? Crap, he could be looking his fill right now and… I moan just thinking about Vance looking at my center. I’m locked between his chest and arm, spread open in his T-shirt. If only this opportunity came at a different place and time.

“Breathe, Halle,” comes the whispered demand. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

I appreciate that he’s trying to be the professional in the room. I, on the other hand, am struggling not to envision his fingers slipping somewhere a little lower and much wetter.

“Just hurry,” I whine, blowing out a breath. “I’m cold.”

A total lie. I’m hornier than a teenager at prom.

“Almost done,” he soothes.

Gah, even that sounds sexy.

He’s going to find a wet spot on the rug. I just know it.

“Tell me about Georgia.” Vance sets my foot on the ground.

I open my eyes just in time to see him move around to my feet. This time taking both of my ankles and pushing them toward my chest.

“Oh my gosh,” I groan and cover my eyes. He has a prime view of all my lady bits. “Georgia is Georgia.” I’m finding it hard to breathe, let alone concentrate while I can feel the heat of his stare at my core.

“What do you like about Georgia?” He pushes harder.

“Why?” I pant. “You thinking of taking a vacay?”

“Perhaps.”

Perhaps.Such a snooty word. It’s kind of hot, though. “Well,” I grin, “should you ever decide to visit, North Georgia is exceptionally beautiful in the fall. And a lot cooler.”

“Hmm…“ He rolls my hips, bending my knees side to side, manipulating my hips until I’m languid and putty in his hands. “How’s that feel?”

Like if I had balls, they’d be purple. But I’m pretty sure he means my hips, not my vagina. “Much better, thank you.”

“Do you think you can stand?”

At this point, with all the adrenaline rushing through my veins, I think I could sprint from this room without so much as feeling my feet touch the ground. “Yeah,” I admit, cracking open an eyelid and admiring the concerned frown on his face.

In this dim lighting, Vance looks even sexier with his rumpled bed hair and creased T-shirt. He doesn’t look like the put-together surgeon in a crisp suit I’ve come to know and annoy.

At my staring, Vance arches a brow, waiting.

“Yes,” I confirm, opening both eyes, “I can stand.”

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