Page 71 of King's Barber
Grant didn’t stop me when I strode past him, and I didn’t expect he would. He followed me, though, and when I got to the room and entered, I found another doctor already in there. He had a very serious face, sharp nose, and dark curls. Handsome was one way of describing him, but no one drew my attention more than Quain—and the bruises marking his beautiful face. I moved before I could stop myself, walking up to his side and touching one particular discoloration under his eye.
“Are you okay?”
He stared at me carefully before smiling and stealing my breath in the process. “Yeah. I’m fine.” His smile turned into a smirk. “We’re quite the pair, huh? We match now.”
I chuckled gently.
“I am definitely worried about that head injury.” The doctor cleared his throat, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, but I didn’t miss the hint of a smug smile. “Are you someone who can talk sense into Mr. Beaumont?”
“Luke? Sense? Hah.” Quain chuckled and the noise was both gorgeous and surprising, sending shivers down my body. I missed hearing that laughter.
I smirked at the doctor. “Don’t think he’d listen to me, Doc.”
The doctor rolled his eyes, and my gaze narrowed in on the name stitched into his white coat.
Dr. Ian Moore.
Ah, I’d heard about him more than once from Grant. The stories interchanged between Moore being frustrating to hilarious, and anything in between. He got Grant to do a lot of his work when they were on the same shift together.
“He needs an MRI. I don’t want him dropping dead. I happen to like the current premium on my insurance, and I’d rather not have some idiot trying to sue my ass.” He tugged at his coat with a huff.
Grant grinned and shook his head.
Quain sighed and glanced at me, and I shrugged. “If I do it, will you leave me the hell alone?”
“No,” Moore said bluntly. “I’m your doctor. I don’t have the luxury of leaving you alone, though it’d be nice if I didn’t have to deal with patients at all.”
“Then you got into the wrong career, buddy,” I said with a smirk.
“The money is the only reason I’m here, trust me,” Moore grumbled. “I’ll get you booked in for that MRI. Come with me, Grant.”
They left the room, and we watched them go. It wasn’t a horrible sight, I had to admit, but a slap to my arm told me I’d stared too long. I turned back to Quain and dropped onto the bed near his thigh. Taking in the bruised face, guilt whacked me in the gut worse than a bullet could have.
KC stood on Quain’s other side. He smiled and patted his belly. “I’m hungry. Fear does that stuff to a man. I’ll be back.” With a wink he fled the room, leaving us by ourselves.
“Anything else you need to tell me?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “Because if you’re really a sexy alien from a planet in another universe where you’re secretly able to get pregnant, I need to know now. I’m too young to be a father.”
He snorted. “You’re notthatyoung.”
“Hah! But you don’t deny being an alien.” I leaned closer to him, placing my hands on either side of his thighs. “And who are you calling old, Assassin’s Creed?”
“Are you going to sit there and talk smack, or are you going to kiss me?” He touched my neck, bandaged fingers dancing over my collarbone and tugging on my leather Kings jacket. “Because I said I was sorry for lying. It doesn’t make up for it—”
“Shut up, Quain,” I interrupted, earning a glare. I smirked. “You want me to kiss you, I want you to do something for me first.”
He blinked at me, head tilted. “Why do I have a feeling I won’t like this request?”
“Because you probably won’t.” My gaze slid to his mouth, wet and full and begging for mine on top of his, even with the scrape under the right side of his bottom lip. I wanted to taste him again, kiss him until he melted beneath me.
“What do you want me to do?” he whispered, inching closer, stopping when I shook my head.
“I want you… to tell me I’m the best barber you’ve ever met, and I fuck like a god.”
He groaned. “Ohplease, no. Anything but that.” Rolling his eyes, he laughed. The sound made my insides twist in excitement. “You, Lucas Jeremy Booth, are the best barber I’ve ever met, and you fuck me like a god. Maybe like Thor or Odin. I’ve never had a dick like yours before. Oh wait, I change my mind, not like Thor or Odin, that just reminds me of the Norse Lords MC.”
“The what now? What the fuck is the Norse Lords MC?” I frowned.
His eyebrows danced upward and he grinned, wide and in a way that made my chest ache for him. “You’ve never heard of them? They’re a club out in Pleasant Beach. Run by a man who calls himself Odin. Thor’s his vice president. Now that I’m being honest, they’re both gorgeous and I’d fall into bed with them. Maybe at the same time.” The twinkle in his eye had me pursing my lips. “But luckily, you’re sexier.”
