Series: Silver Spoon MC Series by Nichole Rose
Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 38632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 193(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
"Hey," she says when she spots me. Her gaze dances up and down my body, her cheeks heating before she quickly glances down at her at shoes. Fuck, I like how sweet she gets when she's feeling shy. I can't wait to see her looking at me the same way when she's spread across my bed, wearing nothing but a smile and my love bites. My dick stiffens at the thought.
"You cold, angel?" I ask, grinning at her.
"I'm always cold," she says, scrunching up her nose at me. "I thought Texas was supposed to be horrible in the summer."
"It's eighty-five degrees outside. That's flip-flop weather." I push away from the column, strolling toward her.
"It's ninety in San Diego," she says, craning her neck back to look up at me.
My smile grows when her little nose turns up, as if to punctuate her feelings about the inferiority of Texas weather. I happen to agree with her on that front. My mom runs a successful modeling agency for plus-size models in Los Angeles. My siblings and I grew up in Beverly Hills. I didn't move to Texas until I started my residency at Baylor. The weather sucks, especially when the humidity kicks in, but the rest of the state isn't so bad. It's home to me now.
"Come on," I murmur, leading her to the elevator with a hand on the small of her back. "Let's go up and get you settled."
She mumbles something under her breath that sounds like a complaint, but she doesn't speak again until we're on the elevator. As soon as the doors close behind us, she scurries to the far corner. Her brows furrow when I swipe my keyfob and press the button for the top floor.
"I thought you said you had an apartment here."
"I do."
"A penthouse isn't an apartment."
"It's a penthouse apartment."
She huffs at me. "I should really be paying you rent if I'm going to be staying here, Dr. Grimes."
"Tate."
"What?" The little groove between her brows deepens.
"My name is Tate. That's what you call me. Not Dr. Grimes. Tate."
She's a stubborn little thing, I'll give her that. As soon as I say it, her lips compress into a thin line, her gold eyes narrowing further. "I don't think that's very appropriate," she says. "You're my niece's surgeon."
I prowl toward her across the chrome and glass elevator, fighting a smirk when she plasters herself up against the wall like she plans to climb it to avoid me. Once I'm in her personal space, close enough to touch her but not close enough to make her feel like she can't get away from me, I tilt my head down toward her.
"I don't give a fuck if it's appropriate or not, angel," I murmur, skimming my nose along her crown. After spending a week in the hospital with Scout, she should smell like the place, but she doesn't. She smells like coconut and sunshine, like the beach and home. "You'll learn soon enough that I make my own rules. When you're sleeping under my roof, you'll call me Tate."
She makes a soft sound in the back of her throat that turns my dick to steel. That needy whine, that shocked gasp. Fuck, I can't wait to rattle this woman and turn every single thing she thinks she knows about doctors and men like me on its head. I'm not like any man she's ever met before. I'm her man. Already, I feel the connection between us growing, feel the need to possess and claim this delicate, fierce angel beating at me.
"Back up," she whispers, her voice shaking.
"Not until you call me by my name, Samara."
I'm pushing the bounds of propriety to their breaking point. I know it. She knows it. We both know she could probably have my job for this…but we both know she won't. She wants me too. I saw it lurking in those gold eyes this morning. I see it blazing in them now. She feels the same undeniable pull. She's just afraid to give in to it.
"Say it, baby," I demand on a whisper, running my lips along her crown this time. I'm not sure why I need her to give me this so fucking badly but I do. I don't want to be Dr. Grimes to her, especially not when we're alone.
"Dammit, Tate," she whispers.
I press my lips to her temple in a soft kiss. Her body trembles against mine. Even through her oversized hoodie, I feel how soft she is. "I'm going to save your niece, angel. And while I'm doing that, we're going to get to know each other. Intimately."
"You're Scout's surgeon," she reminds me again.
"And we both know if I slipped my hand inside your panties right now, they'd be soaked for me," I growl, narrowing my eyes on her. "We also know they haven't been that way for any other doctor you've met this week. Or any man in recent memory, have they, Samara?"