Page 23 of Merry with Me

“It’s lighter.”

“Highlights.”

“It suits you.”

Unable to stop myself, I place my palm back against his cheek. “Are you always so put together? Clean shaven, not a hair out of place?”

“I’m not sure my patients would trust me if I showed up to work full of scruff and a messy head of hair.”

I chuckle. “You might be right, but what about when you’re not working?”

“I’m always working.”

“So on the weekends, you let this grow?” I ask, rubbing against his jaw. There’s a little stubble from the long day, but not enough to even call a five o’clock shadow.

“Not usually.”

“Shame,” I say, moving my hands to lock behind his neck.

“Why is that a shame, Ms. Kincaid?”

“It’s a woman thing,” I tease as I run my fingers through his hair. I don’t know why, but I want to mess him up. Oliver Thompson put together is handsome, but having him… out of control, not too put together…. Just the thought has lava rolling through my veins.

His hands move back to my waist and tighten. “I’m a doctor. I can handle it.”

“I’m not so sure you can. Besides, I’m not sure I can divulge that information. We women have to stick together.”

“I’m a medical professional, Blake. I can handle anything you want to tell me.” His hands tighten even further on my waist, and I feel like I could combust just from his touch alone.

My hands are still buried in his strands, and I have to force myself to stop. Instead, I move them to grip his biceps, and oh holy night, the man is hiding fucking arm porn under those suits and shirts he wears to the office. I have to fight my smile when I think about my mom and my aunts. They’d definitely approve.

“Blakely,” he growls.

My eyes find his as I tighten my grip on his biceps. “Can you keep a secret?” I ask. My voice is low and husky even to my own ears.

“Yes. For you.”

For me. Why does that turn me on too? What in the hell is wrong with me? “Are you sure you want to know?”

“I want to know everything,” he says, his voice low. His eyes are hooded as he watches me, and he grips my waist as if he’s afraid I might disappear.

“Beards. Scruff. It heightens… things.” I bite down on my bottom lip. I cannot believe we’re even having this conversation. This meeting is not turning out how I had thought it would. I never could have imagined this moment or my rising attraction to him.

I watch his throat as he audibly swallows. “What things?”

“Places,” I add without thinking.

“Tell me.” He pulls me so close there’s no space between us.

“Neck.”

He leans down, and on instinct, I tilt my head to the side, giving him access. “Here?” he asks, rubbing his smooth cheekover my neck as he buries his face. If I’m not mistaken, he inhales deeply, but my mind is jumbled, so maybe I’m imagining that part.

“Y-Yes.”

“Where else?”

“Chest.”