Can't Touch This Read online

  “I’M SICK.”

  I pressed my cheek against the cold stainless steel of my patient table and closed my eyes on the spinning room.

  Ugh, make it stop.

  Polly came up behind me. Her cool hand landed on the back of my neck. “Oh, you are a bit hot.”

  I groaned, hauling my aching body upright and pressing the back of my hand to my forehead. “Think I have a temperature?”

  She pursed her lips. “Either that or you’re flushed because Ryder Carson hasn’t been in today.”

  I scowled. “I’m glad about that. Not sad.”

  “Uh oh, the rhyming has started. A sure clue to the flu.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You annoy me every day.”

  She grinned. “That’s my job. And don’t try to change the subject. I heard you two flirting yesterday.”

  “What?” I dropped my hand to my chest, acting the perfect damsel. “I was not flirting.”

  Was I?

  Okay, maybe a teensy tiny bit.

  “There was a lot of wiener and cock talk.” Polly giggled. “If that wasn’t the pre-dance to some seriously hot and filthy sex, I don’t know what is.”

  The room spun faster as an image of Ryder naked and bending me over a table erupted in my flu-foggy brain. “Oh, stop.” I groaned. “I’m not feeling well. And that just makes me feel worse.”

  “Worse because you want it so bad?” Polly jiggled her eyebrows. “Go on. Think of me as your therapist. I’m sworn to confidentiality.”

  I wanted to slap her.

  I truly did.

  If only the floor would obey and stop trying to mimic a boat on a rolling ocean. “You are nothing more than a sexually repressed woman who is deflecting her fantasies onto me.”

  Polly laughed, leaving me to sway unsteadily as she returned to finishing up on the computer. “Unlike you, I don’t want to touch his wiener.”

  “Oh my God, you heard that?”

  She smirked. “Every word.”

  “We seriously need to get better soundproofing in this building.”

  “Or you need to bang him and get it out of your system.”

  “And I’m supposed to take advice from a woman on an eight-month sex-Sahara-spell?”

  She held up her hands. “I’m just being the voice of your neglected pussy.”

  I scrunched up my face. “You just dropped down the totem pole of friendship. Who are you with this dirty talk and where did my post-it loving stuck-in-the-mud go?”

  Polly waved me away, her concentration sucked back into work graphs and order forms. “Just trying to help my bestie out.”

  I swallowed, testing the awful scratch in the back of my throat. All the symptoms of the flu had hit me over the course of the day. I’d woken with a headache, sneezed twenty times since lunch, felt hot and sticky, then cold and shaky, and now my bloody bones had decided to become rattlesnakes and hiss with pain.

  I needed to go to bed. Which I couldn’t because I was on emergency call tonight.

  I hate my life.

  “You know that saying ‘no matter how bad things get, it can always get worse?’” I rubbed my nose with the back of my hand, squinting through stinging eyes.

  “Yes, your point?” Polly looked up from the computer, clicking supply orders for Tales of Tails.

  “Well, it sucks…that’s what.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  It does.

  Ryder was bad.

  But being sick is worse.

  I’d take Ryder over the flu, even if he did make me itchy and moody and wet.

  Whoa, did I really just admit that?

  Polly said softly, “Go home, Vessie. You’ve been working too hard.” Her gaze tracked to the clock hanging on the wall. “You’ve been at it for thirteen hours straight. No wonder you’re ill. Go home. Get better.”

  “But I’m on call tonight.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Amanda can field the calls from home and if it’s a true emergency and not a simple ‘help, my dog is coughing what shall I do’ kind of phone call, I’ll deal with it.”

  The thought of letting Polly do it was far too appealing. But I didn’t want to be that partner. I didn’t want to shuck my responsibilities just because I was sick.

  I’m not sick.

  Positive thinking and all that.

  I hesitated. “I don’t know—”

  Buzzzzzz.

  The reception door announcer when someone walked in ripped through the space.

  Polly and I looked at each other.

  I sank into my sore body. “Oh, no. I thought we didn’t have any more appointments today.”

  “We didn’t.” She shook her head. “Bloody hell, Amanda must’ve forgotten to lock the door on her way out.”

  “Dangnamit, that girl really needs a refresher on how to run a well-oiled business around here.”

  Polly sighed, “I know, but she’s cheap, and right now, we need to keep our spending under wraps.”

  My head stuffed up with cotton wool as the tell-tale tickle in my nose told me I was going sneeze.

  Explosively.

  I pinched my nostrils and held my breath.

  I’m. Not. Sick!

  I couldn’t do that to Polly. I couldn’t do that to the dogs and cats and rabbits depending on me.

  Ignoring the urge to sneeze, I sniffed back my self-pity and overwhelming desire for sleep. “I’ll go deal with whoever it is. You finish ordering supplies. Then we can get out of here.”

  Polly eyed me dubiously. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay? You look like shit.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “Gee, thanks. Just what I want to hear before dealing with a customer.”

  “Not just any customer. Me.” The masculine voice made me jump as Ryder Carson opened the surgery door and stuck his head inside. “I don’t care if you look like shit; your bedside manner is second to none.”

  His smile fell as he fully took me in—the rumpled grubbiness of my scrubs, the flyaway curls around my face, and dark circles beneath my eyes.

  “Whoa, you really do look like shit.”

  I threw up my hands. “Oh my God, don’t you start.” Dropping my eyes, I searched his arms for whatever new creature brought him in but couldn’t see as he kept his body angled behind the door. This man was a magnet to homeless and hurting animals. Did he serenade them like the pied piper? Why did people find him so irresistible?

  Because I don’t see the allure.

  I don’t.

  He said you can touch it.

  Even with my sick addled brain, the thought made me flush as my gaze zeroed on the door where his crotch would be.

  Crap, look up.

  Look up!

  Polly cleared her throat. “I think I’ll finish supply ordering in the other office.” Scooping up her notes and scattered post-its, she gave me a not-so-secretive smile that clearly sad ‘bang him, you pussy’ and let herself out.

  Damn her.

  Did she have no kindness left?

  I’m sick and now I have to deal with this terrible situation.

  The moment she’d gone, Ryder ducked through the door and revealed two curled up tiny, tiny beasts trembling in his arms.

  I can’t win with him.

  First, he acted like an asshole to intrigue the stupid pubescent girl inside me that associated meanness with being liked, and then he wore me down by bringing in the cutest dogs I’d ever seen.

  My head pounded as I did my best to shove aside my sickness and focus. “I see you’ve decided to give up on the wiener jokes and bring a different breed in today. I can’t wait to see how you’ll spin this one around.”

  His lips twitched but concern for the two rescues never left his eyes. “Not sausage dogs but just as precious. And I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to apologise for what I said yesterday. I went too far.”

  His voice fell to a husky purr. “I would never dream of hurting you in any way, Ms. Fairfax. I respect everything you do
for me and it’s not my place to make you uncomfortable by crudely asking you to touch my cock or threatening you with a law suit.” He blinked with utmost sincerity—not one inch of mirth or crude joking. “Can you forgive me?”

  Oh hell, who was I kidding?

  This man was the perfect blend of standoffish and so compassionate, it made my heart sacrifice itself onto a plate because how could I resist alpha and puppy at the same time?

  “Ugh, you don’t play fair.”

  “I didn’t mean to fight dirty.”

  I half-smiled. “But you kind of did.”

  “I will admit, I kind of did.” His shoulders relaxed a smidgen. “If I promise never to do it again, will you accept my apology?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. I was just as much to blame.” I inhaled through a rapidly congested nose. “According to Polly, we were flirting.”

  “Ah!” Ryder nodded. “So that’s Polly. The girl you said would gladly give me a personality change.” He lowered his jaw, watching me beneath hooded eyes. “So now you’ve accepted my apology, you’re saying you don’t want to change me?”

  My heart pounded as hard as my head as I fell once again into his trap and imagined all manner of naughty, sinful, but oh so good things. “No. No improvements necessary.”

  “Thank fuck for that.” He cuddled the fluffy pooches closer. “And just for the record, did Polly have any cure for the flirting diagnosis? After all, you are qualified to hand out medicines to stop such desires interfering with everyday life, right?”

  My throat closed up.

  He has desires.

  For me.

  Goosebumps scattered over my forearms that had nothing to do with my rising temperature. “She did have one suggestion. But it’s very unorthodox.”

  “Oh?”

  I forced myself to hold his gaze; to be as bold and brave as him. “She said the only way to stop such flirtation was to have sex.”

  His neck contracted as he swallowed hard. “Is that right?”

  “Yep. That’s what she recommends.” My eyes trailed from his eyes to his mouth. “But I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”

  “Why?” His voice turned to gravel.

  “Because I don’t want it to affect our patient vet relationship.”

  “Don’t I have a say in this?”

  I shook my head, cursing the unstable room. “Not really.”

  “Would it change your mind if I was honest about my true illness—tell you just how affected I am and in such fucking need of said medicine?”

  My palms turned sweaty. I wasn’t mentally equipped for this heavily sexual conversation. My inhibitions were down. My brain rocking in the corner while the nasty flu hijacked my speech and motions.

  I ran a hand over my forehead, trying to stay sensible and not let rampant lust incinerate common sense. “I think we should stay focused on why you’re here.”

  Ryder growled. “Not until you answer me.”

  I struggled to remember his question. “You want to know if I’ll change my mind if you tell me—”

  “Tell you that I think about you all the time. That I hate that I’m excited when I get called to a rescue because I get to see you again, and it’s not right to be happy about another’s misfortune.” His foot moved, pushing him forward, coming closer. “Tell you that the past few months you’ve given me something that I haven’t had in a very long time. That I can be myself with you. I can play around and your snooty responses make me so fucking hard.”

  He kept moving forward, pushing me back until my spine collided with the steel table. “Tell you that I haven’t been with anyone in a really long time and I can’t go the day without jacking off to images of you.”

  He breathed hard, ignoring the squirming dogs in his embrace. “I’d say Polly’s recommendation is the best bloody medicine. And I want it. I’ll beg for it. Tell me what I need to do to get it, and I’ll do it a thousand times.”

  His hips pressed against mine as he closed the remaining distance between us. My hands came up, automatically protecting the dogs from getting squished even though Ryder kept his upper body far enough away to give them room.

  “Feel that, Ms. Fairfax?” He rolled his hips, blatantly showing me how hard and long and big he was. “That happens every time I’m in this tiny room with you. Do you have any idea how many positions I’ve taken you in my head in this room and just how sick I feel for indulging in them?”

  I trembled as he pushed away, grabbed a towel like I always did, and spread it on the table. “But you’re right. Now is not the time to talk about that because we have two little lives depending on us and they come first.” He shot me a damn right dangerous smile. “But the minute they’re cared for, it’s time for my medicine.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  My mouth hung open, and the flu plaited with the lust he’d just caused and made me so brain dead, I wanted to plop onto the floor and have him tell me more honest revelations as a bed-time story.

  Even sick and dirty after a long shift, he made me feel utterly desirable.

  “Wow.” I licked my lips. “If you aren’t one already, you should become a lawyer. Your persuasive skills are impeccable.”

  He grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind if I fancy a career change.”

  “What exactly do you do?” I peered at his paint-decorated jeans and navy t-shirt. “Tradesman?”

  “I’m currently renovating the house I bought just out of town.” He winked. “Perhaps, if you agree to giving me a dose of the recommended sex-drug, I’ll show you sometime.”

  “So much for no more blatant innuendo invitations.” Rubbing my face, I moved around the table and forced myself to think about the two tiny dogs and not about what would happen if I ever turned up at his house. “I don’t know about any sex-drug, but how about we restart at the basics?”

  “Basics?”

  I stuck my hand out. “I’m Vesper. And you can call me Vesper. Drop the Ms. Fairfax business.”

  He chuckled, looping his fingers with mine and making my body betray me a thousand times over. “Okay…Vesper. In return, please drop the Carson and call me Ryder.”

  Our grip lasted a second too long, giving me yet more goosebumps from the sudden urge to kiss him and the freak out of finally admitting how much I was attracted to this man.

  I’m in so much trouble.

  Pulling my hand away, I reached for the dogs. Instantly, they scurried forward, their little bodies wriggling as they wagged emaciated tails. “Oh, poor poppets, what happened?”

  Ryder’s hands fisted as I scooped one up, rubbing the tiny warm head with the tip of my stuffed-up nose. I couldn’t smell a thing, which was probably good judging by the dried faeces on their fur and conjunctivitis around their eyes.

  It was times like this that made me so disappointed in the human race. I hated that people could mistreat an innocent animal so callously.

  “I don’t know. All I know is the council called me to pick them up and when I got there, the fuckwit who’d done this had been arrested.”

  “Because of cruelty to animals?”

  Ryder’s face darkened. “No, because of illegally selling marijuana. They couldn’t give a shit about these two pups.”

  “That’s not true.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe that. I’m sure they’ll take evidence and add the charge to his record.”

  He snorted. “You have a much better view of the law system when it comes to preventing animal cruelty than me.”

  I wiggled my nose with the back of my hand as the stuffiness grew worse. Blinking back dizziness, I tucked the little body under my arm and headed toward the cabinet drawers that held syringes, gauze, and a camera for instances such as these. We were required by law to record any injury that looked human caused and report it. Regardless if the owner seemed concerned when bringing in the pet.

  Once I’d grabbed the camera, I turned to grab a fresh towel.

  But Ryder had already pre-empted
me.

  He’d spread an additional wash-faded orange one and already plonked a little tan, black, and white critter onto it, ready to hold him firm for close-ups.

  I swallowed my thanks and positioned the matching fluff ball to inspect them side by side. I squinted, trying to decide what breed they were. They were tiny—a miniature breed—but their markings were that of a Dachshund.

  “They’re apparently called a Chiweenie.” His voice was rather disgusted.

  I smiled, smug that he didn’t like the breeds name and not yet sick enough to ignore a prime opportunity to rib him. “Something about that you don’t like, Mr. Car—I mean, Ryder?”

  I just called him Ryder and my stomach flipped.

  God, I needed help.

  “I think it’s insulting to the dog. Chiweenie.” He pulled a face. “What sort of name is that?”

  I shrugged. “Same sort of name like the made up mess of Yorkipoo or Bogle.”

  “What the hell is a Bogle?”

  I ran my hands over the spine of one of the Chiweenies. “I believe it’s a Boxer crossed with a Beagle.”

  Ryder rolled his eyes. “Well, I think they deserve better titles.”

  “What like Butch and Bite Me?”

  “No, like Perfect Handful or Pocket Best Friend.”

  And there he went again; infiltrating my heart and making it betray me.

  I didn’t let him see my heavy sigh or the stupid girlish swooning inside. Such simple and sweet names—highly unpractical and made no sense whatsoever—but things didn’t need to make sense when chemistry and flirtation was this strong.

  Hell, Ryder could tell me he was homeless and killed a person or two and my heart would still skip like a giddy idiot.

  What’s become of me?

  I hate myself.

  But I didn’t really. I rather liked being pursued and told he had to strangle his snake once a day because he wanted me.

  There was power in that.

  Pity that power didn’t have the skills to take away my flu so I could think clearly.

  The urge to zing him again was too strong to ignore, especially now my inhibitions were stuffed up with phlegm. “So, it’s nothing to do with the fact that it has the word ‘weenie’ in the title and you’re afraid your own weenie is wee like these dudes are? And by wee, I mean…tiny. If you didn’t get my drift.”