Happy #TeaserTuesday! I loved writing these characters. You met Baylee earlier in the Billionaire’s of White Oaks series. Her innocence and kindness was so much fun to write in #Hothead. I’ve thought about writing another in this series. I left lots of characters open for romance. Who would you like to see get a romantic HEA from this series?
This excerpt is from Smith’s POV. Smith is a ER doctor. He’s new in town and one day he walks into an exam room and finds…
“Hey, there. I understand we’ve had a bit of a bang up tonight.” I bypass the handshake since her hand is occupied applying pressure to her cut, and put all the compassion I can on my face.
Her infectious smile thins with concern as she asks, “You, too?”
Huh? “Me too, what?” I ask, confused by her question.
Her brows squish together at my lack of understanding. “Did you get hurt, too?”
Why would she think… I chuckle. I get it now. I casually glance at her chart for mental issues. “Well, I guess my bedside manner stinks. What I should have said was you’ve had a bang-up night.”
She shakes her head, wincing when the movement causes her pain. “No, Doctor, it wasn’t fun. At all. My bum is still sore.”
What? Again, I flip her chart back open—I didn’t see any sexual injuries listed on her chart either. “Okay. Let’s start over. Tell me how you were injured.”
She nods and readjusts the towel on her face before beginning her tale. “We’d just gotten inside my apartment door when Alex started rubbing himself on my legs then Oscar wanted to get in on the fun, and that’s when I fell backwards. Right on my bum. I didn’t even have a chance to catch my breath before they were both all over me.” She smiles sweetly.
I blink, and it’s entirely possible I may be in shock. Two men…at once? I try to keep my face neutral and doctorly. I never would have taken this sweet woman as being into kink. “So how did you get the cut and black eye?”
She pauses to think. “Oh, that was from my phone,” she nods as if that explains everything. It doesn’t.
I look back to her chart to see if there’s been a psych eval. Nope. None noted, but can this story get any crazier? “Your phone?” I ask, prompting her to elaborate.
She rolls her one good eye and I have to wonder if I’m being set up? You know. New doctor being punked to see what I’m made of. It’s a rite of passage, really. But I don’t see any cameras and nobody is jumping out and saying ‘Gotcha!’
“Right,” she says, and I’m back on her train to Loonyville. “It was on the kitchen counter. When my legs went up in the air, my foot hit my phone and it landed on my face. But hey, the screen didn’t break,” she remarked with relief.
Her phone. That’s a first. “Well, that is good. So, what did Alex and Oscar do then?”
She giggles and the corner of her eye crinkles. “They licked me all over because they thought it was a game.”
Perverts. “What did they do when they saw the cut and the blood?” I ask, trying to contain my rage at the men who would do something like this.
With a dumbfounded look in her eye, she shrugs in indifference. “Nothing. As long as they get all their itches scratched, they’re good.”
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