Page 3 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire

My steps faltered.

Holy… mother… of… God. I’d never been a huge fan of large, muscular men, but for this guy, I’d make an exception.Holy shit. I couldn't help but ogle him. Grudgingly, I had to admit he had a fantastic body—at least the upper part—which left me curious about the rest of his body.

Dear Lord, let me sin with this man naked.

The warmth intensified and I was fairly certain my mouth was somewhere on the floor. There might have even been some drool there too. This man—jackass or not—had an objectively magnificent chest. Skin golden brown, his muscles were defined even in his relaxed pose. And those abs! The sudden and quite uncharacteristic urge to pour alcohol, water, juice—any-fucking-thing—all over him and then lick him clean was overwhelming.

I didn’t even want to get started on those thick biceps. They’d be the envy of any athlete. He was clear of tattoos with the exception of ink on his right bicep.

I frowned. It looked like periodic elements; I recognized the methyl group bonding between the carbon and its atoms. Bizarre as it was, it didn’t keep me from studying every single inch of him.

Fever licked at my skin, a current of liquid heat rushed down my body and pooled between my thighs. I squeezed them tight, trying to ignore the throbbing.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. Getting horny at the mere sight of a man.Apatient, at that!

“Are you going to examine me?” The heavy bass of his voice felt like a lover’s caress.

I had to get my shit together. Check his blood pressure and then get the hell away from him before I did something stupid. Like tackle him. Right here, on this examination table. I’d straddle him and—

He cleared his throat, pulling me from my dirty thoughts.

I need to get laid, I thought again.

“Okay,” I said, shaking my head and trying to sound professional. “Let’s do this. Examine you, I mean. Obviously.”

The shadow of a smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Obviously.”

Shit, why did I say that? This couldn’t be what an education at Stanford got me. Drooling and gawking at patients? Though in my defense, one didn’t just happen across such a hot specimen on a regular basis.

I slipped the cuff around his bicep and took his blood pressure.Piff. Piff. Piff.The little sounds of the balloon inflating filled the space between us. I released the valve and the cuff let out a long, slow hiss of relief. Next, I plugged my stethoscope into my ears and placed the diaphragm against his chest, ignoring his slight flinch under my fingertips.

“One seventy-eight over ninety-five. It’s high.” I ripped the cuff’s lip free with a quick jerk. “Your chart says you’re here for sunburn. Where is it exactly?”

He flicked me a look. Exasperated. Annoyed. “On my back.”

God, why was he so damn cranky? So damn insufferable.

I shifted around the table, all businesslike, when my eyes locked on his back. My hand paused mid-air at the sight of his burned, scarred skin. His strong, beautiful back was covered in angry, red and near-white scars, the surface epidermis—skin—disfigured. My guess it was an old chemical burn with the sunburn on top of it.

“How long since the initial injury that caused the scarring?” I asked, getting straight to work. Blistering and swelling over his entire back had to be painful, even without the underlying tissue damage. No fucking wonder he needed to see a doctor.

His shoulders tensed. “Years.”

His answer was clipped. Flat. Yet I couldn’t help but think that it bothered him. He was so beautiful and strong in every single way, and although he didn’t strike me as vain, something told me he didn’t like to reveal his back to strangers.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and reached for his chart, coming to stand in front of his sitting form and doing my best to avert my eyes. “The doctor will have to check you to approve, but I’ll recommend an injection of corticosteroids to ease the symptoms of itchiness and pain. We can do one application of silicone gel here today, and you can continue its application over the next seven days.”

“Aren’t you a doctor?” I couldn’t quite decide whether he was mocking me or not, but I decided to give him a break, considering his obviously uncomfortable state.

“Not yet, I’m only in my first year of medical school.”

He looked at me and grinned. “A newbie, huh?”

I smiled. “I wouldn’t exactly say a newbie.” Desperate to force some distance between us, I walked back around to assess the degree of his burn, jotting down notes in his chart. “Didn’t your doctor warn you against the dangers of sunbathing? The scar tissue will be sensitive to any kind of sun exposure.”

He shrugged. “I fell asleep on the deck.”

I shook my head. “Let’s check your temperature.”