Kiss Me Where It Hurts
“See, malyshka, you walk in here wearing that little skirt and dare to talk about modesty?”
I glanced down at my blazer skirt, heat crawling up my neck as his gaze dragged over my legs.
“If I weren’t your patient…”
He turned slightly, gesturing to the examination bed, his voice dropped dangerously low,
“I'd put you right there and demonstrate…
“Mr. Ferrari!” I snapped, leaping to my feet, my heartbeat pounding in my ear now.
I had never met a man as vulgar, audacious, and devastatingly magnetic as Gideon Ferrari, especially not one wearing a hospital gown.
My first therapy session with the sex-addict patient who should have been a simple case… became