Free BloodSworn by Stacey Brutger Page A

had pulled her hair back in a twist that hid all those
wonderful highlights. Her gaze was so focused on her tasks and the notes she
jotted down that she didn’t even notice his observation.
    It was hard to merge the image of the competent street fighter
from last night to the bookworm before him, but both suited her. If anything, this
vulnerable side made her all the more alluring.
    When her exam grew increasingly painful, he focused on the
feel of her touch. He’d endure this and more if it meant getting her hands on him.
The more she touched him, the more familiar and comfortable she would become
with him.
    Despite the way her brows scrunched while working out the
puzzle beneath his skin, he could tell that she liked it, too, by the way her
hands lingered on him when she became lost in thought.
    When she stopped, he instantly missed her warmth, the smooth
drag of her fingers over him. She didn’t immediately retreat, so he remained
still, detesting the uncertainty as he waited for her verdict.
    She shut her book and sighed. Despite everything, he’d let
himself believe that she’d be able to help. The disappointment struck hard.
    She’d be leaving at the end of the two weeks. He wasn’t
strong enough to protect her longer than that. So why did he feel this ominous
finality that if she left, his life wouldn’t be worth shit? “It’s okay.”
    She spoke at the same time. “I’d like to run some blood work.
We’ll take samples every few days and set up a schedule for your back. When
you’re to heat it, ice it, and what type of stretches and exercise need to be
done.”
    He was shocked when she scooted off the bed, scratching
notes in her book as she paced. “I’d love to get an MRI.”
    She glanced at him with a question, but he only shook his
head. Part of his brain didn’t understand what it meant. The hope was so brutal
he could barely speak. “The others can’t know.”
    “Then I’ll work with what I have.” Trina set down her pen
and paper then massaged her hands. Part of her trembled at touching Merrick
again, but the bigger part of her was eager for it and that scared her more
than anything. “I’ll warn you now. This is going to be painful.”
    Trina knelt at Merrick’s side, her hands on his body, doing
her damnedest to try and not get aroused. No way in hell would she survive if
Merrick learned of her weakness to him. It was that sheet, the way it draped
over his ass, revealing the upper swell of those muscles that her fingers itched
to explore.
    No matter how hard she tried to prevent it, her eyes trailed
over his form, her fingers lingered on his well-defined muscles more than was
proper.
    Even the nape of his neck drew her attention. She wanted to scrape
her nails through the fine hair then lean over and lick the strong cord of muscle
to see how he’d react. Worst of all, she knew he wouldn’t protest anything she
wanted to do to him.
    She glanced around the room, her breathing a little fast,
her heart thundering, desperate for a distraction before she followed through
on her fantasies.
    The sword.
    She latched onto the topic with the desperation of a kid
with a Popsicle in his grip. She was a doctor. Violence should sicken her, but
she’d been on the razor edge of it for years. She respected violence, the need
for it to protect those weaker. “Tell me about the sword.”
    Air exploded out of his chest at her demand. Between the pain
and lust, his beast was going wild. He wasn’t in much better condition. Those
hands of hers were pure heaven and hell.
    The smell of her arousal tinged the air.
    Light.
    Barely there.
    Humans might not detect those signals, but shifters sure the
hell could and often used that skill to their advantage.
    If she hadn’t spoken, he wasn’t certain if he’d have had the
strength not to roll over and demand she work the front side as well for the
agony she put him through. Devil take it, if her hand swept down and touched
his ass one more time, his dick was