The air in Dr. Hale’s office hung heavy as he looked forward to what was coming, the faint sounds coming from the air conditioner doing little to cool the rising heat between them. Jenna’s confession still echoed in his mind “I’m not cured” and neither was he.
Her smile, that slow seductive curve of her lips, was an invitation he could no longer resist. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her flushed cheeks, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse beneath her skin.
She leaned into him, her breath warm against his lips and her eyes dark with the same insatiable hunger that had drawn them to this dangerous situation.
“Jenna,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her, “tell me exactly what you want, I want to hear every word.”
She bit her lower lip, h
