By the time I finished with my last patient, I had a text from Wyatt to meet at his place. I finished my notes and glanced at the work I should do. Stacks of paper lined my desk with files on the bookshelf behind me. It was getting out of hand.
But I closed up my office and left to meet Wyatt.
I took the stairs up to his place after he buzzed me in and knocked on the door. I wondered if I should have text him that I was on my way, but before I could worry more, the door opened.
To a hot, sweaty, shirtless Wyatt.
“Damn,” I breathed, unable to tear my eyes from his chest. A bead of sweat ran between his pecks and I had the undeniable urge to chase it with my tongue. It moved lower, hiding in the hair on his belly and giving me an excuse to take in the rest of him.
Abs. Vee. Low slung sh
