Page 24 of Fixation
My arm was up in his face.
The man-boy flew off his bike and landed on the ground with a satisfyingthump.
He rubbed his forehead, staring at me accusingly. “What the hell, man?”
My answer wasn’t required. He’d understandwhat the hellsoon enough.
In the meantime, I glowered at him.
“No.”
I was already on him.
Years of experience in the OR had taught me plenty, including exactly how much pressure it takes to step on someone and snap their shin.
Crack.
“Hmph.” That small whimper from him almost made me laugh.
Almost.
If not for the possessiveness that had my head pounding.
“Why?” His question was meant for someone who cared.
I cared a whole fucking lot. Just not about him.
One hand on the top of his head. The other on his shoulder.
“Please.”
Twist. Snap.
He dropped like a rag doll against the brick wall. Slumped.
Before his ass reached the ground, he was already dead.
His days of leaving flowers on my woman’s doorstep were over.
Granted, I threw the ugly bouquet where Harper wouldn’t find it.
No need to worry about him or any other man anymore.
My bag is out, slung over my shoulder next to hers. I have both arms around her, hugging her close until she melds into me.
I spare a second to look at her. I’ll have all the time in the world later, but I need this second. This minute. This moment.
My eyes skim over every inch of her beautiful face. Her button nose. Her flushed cheeks.
Her breasts barely show beneath the layers of clothing. My teeth bite into my bottom lip, eager to take a bite of her.
I’ve been dreaming of this moment for two months. About marking her.
She’s running a fever. She’s passed out.
Problem is, I can’t control these desires. Can’t stop wanting her naked, my lips on every inch of her body.
I’m possessed by the thought of getting into bed with her. By the images of us together.
