SNEAK PEEK: Can't Touch This by Pepper Winters
writing as Tess Hunter
“You already said.”
My hackles went up. “Excuse me for repeating myself.” I smiled coyly. “After all, you are a man. Just being kind in case you didn’t listen to me the first time.”
He bared his teeth, making his handsome face freaking drop dead gorgeous. With his messy hair flopping over his forehead and the three day scruff, he looked like any fuckable but perfectly acceptable bring-home-to-meet-the-family boyfriend material.
There was something about him that wasn’t common in today’s dating world. His green and brown swirled eyes didn’t fit the persona of a playboy. I’d caught him checking out my boobs and even my ass, but he didn’t give off that snaky, slimy vibe of wanting to get into my knickers just for the sake of tiddling his lizard in my kiddy pool.
He was intrigued by me but he wasn’t going to lie about who he was to screw me.
Clearing his throat, he grinned. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” He chuckled. “Wow, pot calling kettle black and all that.”
My shoulders tensed. “What does that even mean?”
“The kettle thing?”
I scratched Pikachu as an excuse to look away. I hadn’t been paying attention. My damn uterus had stolen my brain function.
Ryder smiled smugly. “I think it means, don’t be hypocritical.”
My gaze shot up. “Did you just call me a hypocrite? You really are on a roll today.”
“I’m not a hypocrite. That’s a—”
“I just asked if I should grab some high strength puppy food to fatten him out and you zoned out on my—I don’t even know what you were staring at? My nose perhaps, it is rather good looking.” He patted the body part in question.
He was right. It was pretty proportional and dangnamit, I had to admit—it was a sexy nose.
“Shit, it wasn’t my mouth, was it?” He gasped overly dramatically. “Oh, my, Ms. Fairfax, were you thinking about…” He leaned in, dropping his over-the-top act and sinking directly into sin. “…kissing me.”
“What?!” My cheeks switched from pale to bonfire. “No way.”
He inched around the table, coming closer with every step.
My eyes automatically dropped to his trousers where a very firm bulge made my mouth dry up.
“Maybe you do want to touch it.”
“Touch it?” My fingers squeezed the poor wiener, making him yelp. “I’m already touching it.” I patted the dog’s head. “See…touching it.”
He chuckled, knowing he’d rubbed a nerve and enjoying my reaction. “You know that’s not what I meant.” He stood with his legs spread boldly, giving me full view of what trouser snake he possessed. “You can squeeze my salami if you want. Poor Pikachu has been through enough, don’t you think?”
I threw my hands up. “Wow, you really are something else.”
“Something incredible, you mean?”
“Something delusional more like.”
He laughed. “You’re too easy.”
“Easy?!” How dare he call me easy? I wasn’t easy. I hadn’t had sex in sixteen months. That was the opposite of easy. I didn’t believe in internet dating and I had no life. I worked, I restocked the surgery, I went home to my pussy cat, and relaxed with a book or Netflix.
If I was easy, wouldn’t I be parading myself on line and going on tinder or whatever it was where sexual hook-ups took place these days? I mean, how did those sites even work? Had computer cameras advanced so far they delivered orgasms via the World Wide Web now?
The tense moment stretched.
Pikachu barked as his new owner encroached on my space, crossing the half-way point and into my territory.
My heart went bananas as Ryder inched his fingers across the table toward mine.
I ripped them away.
I did the one thing a vet should never do.
I left my little doggy patient alone and unsupported on the table.
Panicking and feeding off the confusion in the room, Pikachu launched himself off the high ledge.
Everything happened in slow motion.
Ryder took a step back, his arms outstretched to catch the flying bratwurst. I threw myself forward, hoping to scoop the soaring sausage from the air.
He remained standing, I bent horizontal.
My face landed squarely on his cock.
Nose to shaft, chin to balls.
I felt him.
Hard but soft. Hot but steel.
I felt him on my face!
Get it off.
Oh my God, what did I do in a previous life to deserve this?
A loud humph escaped his lips as victory replaced my shock. I caught the plummeting dog and saved the day. Standing up straight, I quickly placed the squirmy creature back onto the table and pulled out my script pad to jot down what he would need to buy.
He needs to leave.
I didn’t care if Polly refused to look after him. She’d have to after this.
The poor guy was doubled over in pain, sucking in gasps of air.
By the time I’d scribbled a puppy formula and a few vitamins, he was able to stand upright. A loud laugh froze my fingers and I couldn’t stop my head from tilting upward.
“You know…” He wheezed through another wash of pain. “I offered you the right to touch it. Not face plant into it.”
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I really, really don’t.
He’s egotistical, crass, and my patient’s owner—which makes him totally off limits.
Yep, that’s right. He owns the wiener I’m currently working on.
A wiener dog—get your dirty mind out of the gutter.
I’ve also worked on his spoodle, his cocker-shitzu, and a cheagle—don’t ask. (And no, it’s not a sexual position.)
It doesn’t help that he also represents most of my joint-owned veterinary practice’s small clientele. We’d only just opened the doors a few months ago, and in he strode with a yelping Taco Terrier. One haughty look at our sparkling new facilities, he’d demanded royal treatment, even though I was currently finger deep up a squalling tom cat.
Ever since then, he expects me to serve him.
Any time. All the time.
Him and his revolving zoo of dogs.
One of these days, I’m going to swat him for being such a pompous ass but I can’t deny the way he handles his charges makes me want to see past the ‘do as I say and don’t ask questions’ barking exterior.
But then last week…he caught me staring at his um, cough, package.
His bossy commands switched to a cocky smirk.
He gave me permission to do something I promised myself I would never ever do.
I can touch it.
If I want…