All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)(5)

I realize what she has in mind. “He’s not—”

“I’m not—” Joey says at the same time.

“Yep,” she chirps with a mischievous grin. “Yep, you are. I’m going to shower the Grill off me. Then let’s order pizza and watch a movie.”

I watch her leave, shooting daggers at her back. No way. Swallowing hard, I turn to Joey. I can see the struggle on his face. He’s made such a big deal about my sunburn, he’d literally be defying his Hippocratic Oath by denying me relief.

I actually find myself taking perverse pleasure from his discomfort. Why not make this fun? “Fine.” Taking a deep breath, I lock eyes with him and slip my dress strap down on one side. His eyes track the movement. Then I reach for the other and I see his jaw harden.

I sigh and wink at him. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Doctor Butler.”

He meets my eyes, one eyebrow arched, his mouth twisting. “You did always make me want to play doctor, Miss Fraser.”

It takes nano seconds for his words to register and scalding shock to flood my system, and then eons for the surprise to ebb and release my tongue. By that time, Joey has cleared his throat and rolled up his sleeves. He squeezes lidocaine into the palm of one of his strong hands, then uses the other to swing a chair out to sit on.

I swallow some saliva back into my mouth. I didn’t expect him to flirt back.

“Shift around,” he says gently. “So your back is facing me.”

I do as he asks. The sound of the zipper on my sundress going down seems to reverberate around the room like a Boeing engine.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speechless before.” He chuckles, warm and husky just as the cold cream hits my skin. “Is there anywhere else that hurts?” he says into my ear.

Is he serious right now?

The iciness of the cream steals my outrage, and I inhale with the uncomfortable sensation. Then I moan in relief.

Finally, annoyance surges in the wake of his suggestive comments. What the hell is he playing at? Did he seriously just say that? I almost want him to repeat it. Actually why the hell not? “Did you just say I make you want to play doctor? Like sexy doctor? Like, ‘let me examine you’ suggestive weirdness?”

“Shut it.”

“No. I won’t.”

“I preferred you speechless.” He swipes more cooling lotion on my back.

“So let me get this straight. You don’t want me, but the second you hear I’m seeing someone else you start coming on to me?” I keep my back to him though I know he’s done. And feel, rather than hear, his body shift away from me. My zipper slowly rises. He’s quiet.

I scoot around on the seat until I face him, my bare knees knock against his rough jeans. “Coz that’s what you just did, isn’t it?” His eyes are cloudy and brooding and locked on my mouth. His skin is flushed. Why does he have to be so Goddamn sexy?

“I never said I didn’t want you.”

Holy—

I swallow. Speechless for the second time in the space of five minutes.

“But,” he adds. “This—us—just wasn’t advisable.”

I process his words.

What a complete jackass.

Abruptly I stand up in front of him, my dress straps are still down, it makes me feel half undressed. I’m practically standing between his legs I’m so close.

Looking down at him, I narrow my eyes. “Actually, Doctor. I do hurt somewhere else.”

He winces almost imperceptibly. His eyes flick to my chest.

My heart? Is that what he thinks?

Oh, no f*cking way.

“Actually …” I lean down and grab his hand and slide it up my dress and between my legs.

Joey expels a shocked breath.

“It hurts right here.”

His blue eyes flare dark as the surprise and arousal stuns him.

I press his hand against my underwear. “Feel like soothing this ache?” I hiss.





I’M HOLDING JOEY’S hand between my legs. Holy shit. He flirted and I totally called him on it. Not just a call. I doubled down.

The silence, filled with the pulse of blood beating in my ears, doesn’t last long. The shock of what I’ve just done is a physical, pulsing thing.

Joey stands abruptly, and his body slams against me, pressing the backs of my thighs into the hard kitchen table. His hand, still under my dress, is wedged between us. “Doesn’t Brandon do it for you?” Joey growls, his eyes hot. “Or is he as careless of your needs as he was with your back?” His breath is warm as it washes over my cheeks and smells of spearmint gum.

“Brandon does it for me just fine,” I lie, but the words feel thick on my tongue. My heart is pounding with adrenaline.

He arcs an eyebrow. “Really?”

I feel his fingers twitch along the edge of my panties, and warmth pools. Nope. Nothing as simple as warmth. I ache. I throb. I want to shift sideways so his fingers can reach me. Not good. So not good. What the hell am I doing? God, and the smell of him. His body smells faintly of laundry soap and summer heat. I’m dying. Incinerating. Melting away.

“Yes. Really.” I’m hard pressed to make any sense right now.

He smirks. “Right.”

His fingers twitch again, and I realize he’s doing it on purpose. He’s deliberately letting me feel him almost touch me.