Page 127 of The Night Shift

I grab her wrist and pull her toward the nearest storage closet, shoving us both inside. The door clicks shut behind us as I lock it.

Holly spins on me, eyes blazing. “What the hell do you think you’re doing —”

“Since when do youthankme?”

She blinks, like I’ve just spoken in tongues. Then her expression shifts. Half exasperation, half “what is wrong with this handsome clown?” She huffs and pushes past my shoulder toward the door. I step in front of it.

“Theo, move.”

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“Last night.”

And then shethinks. She actually fuckingthinks, as if her kissing me and then riding my cock like a goddamn pogo stick wasn’t the most monumental event in all of existence.

Holly shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I see how it is. “Perhaps lesser clothing will jog your memory.” I start shrugging off my lab coat.

Holly’s eyes instantly widen. “Stopthat!” she snaps, shoving it back onto my shoulders. Her fingers graze my bicep, and I feel iteverywhere. My eyes close, just for a second, because Jesus Christ, she doesn’t even have to try, does she? I want to grab her by the waist and push her up against the wall. I want to kiss her till she can’t breathe. I want to tell her how pretty she is. My gorgeous, gorgeous psychopath. Before I can stop it, a quiet “fuck” escapes my lips. I open my eyes to find her glaring, though the pink on her cheeks betrays her.

“And stop that too,” she scolds.

“Try and keep your hands off me then. Which, given your track record, I know is asking for a lot. But I’m sure you’ll manage somehow, if you really set your mind to it.”

“What do you want me to say exactly?”

“You could compliment my cock or perhaps thank me for the mind-shattering orgasms —”

“Last night was amistake,” she snarls. “We got carried away, there was a dead body, I got excited. It was a one-time thing —”

I snort.

“— andyoukissed me first.”

“Sure, that’s believable.” I lean back against the metal shelf and take her in. The rigid set of her shoulders, the way her fingers curl into her palms. The way her lower lip is slightly swollen. I want to bite it.

I tug on her lab coat and pull her toward me.

She stiffens. “Theo, what —”

“I told you I don’t like you so far away from me.” I capture her wrists with one hand and pin them behind her back, arching her into me. “I also don’t like it when you lie to me.” Her gasp is sharp, eyes flickering to my mouth as her chest brushes againstmine. She’s so close, I can feel the heat of her body through her clothes. Her scent hits me — daffodils paired with a hint of vanilla — and it takes everything in me to not bury my face in her neck.

“How’s your thigh now?” I ask.

It’s evident that she’s pissed off. But I can also feel the minute shift in her. How my closeness affects her. How my touch affects her. She swallows. I want to lean down and trace the bob of her throat with my tongue.

“Hurting,” she says. “Which is what your face is going to be if you don’t let me go right this instant.”

“Then maybe I should examine the area more thoroughly. I am your doctor after all.”

“You arenotmy doctor.”

“Mmhm.” My grip around her wrists tightens and I pull her closer. “But I am yours.”

It all happens so fast. A sharp twist of her hips, and suddenly, I’m the one gasping as her elbow slams into my ribs.