"This really bothers you, doesn't it?" Randi's voice was low, barely audible over the sound of his roaring pulse.
Brass forced a smile anyway. "Getting poked by a gorgeous woman? Nah, Doc. I'm good. But I'd rather be the one doing the poking, you know?"
"Har-har." Randi slid the icy needle into his vein. A loud crack had her eyes darting to his, though her hands stayed steady.
"Sorry." Gritting his teeth, Brass tried to ease his grip on the lip of the stainless steel counter he'd just turned into modern art.
"Want to talk about it?" Her fingertips were soft and cool against his overheated skin. He'd asked her not to wear gloves and after a second's hesitation, she'd complied. Now Brass focused on her touch and the clean, sweet smell of her. Blocking out the sterile scent of the lab and the all-too familiar feel of cold metal in his arm.
"Nope." He didn't try to hide the hiss of relief when she withdrew the needle. Her troubled gray eyes rested on his as she pressed a cotton ball to the tiny wound. Such a small thing to reduce him to this state. God, how he hated Mercile.
"Brass, what did they do to you?"
He shook his head. "Whatever they wanted, Doc. We were less than animals to them. Causing fear and pain was their job, but enjoying it …," he snarled suddenly. "You don't want to hear this."
"I do if it will make you feel better."
Her sincere concern eased him, allowing him to cope with the surge of rage. Wrapping his fingers around her arm, Brass gently drew Randi closer, trapping her between his thighs. "There are other ways you can do that, Miranda."
Instead of pulling away as he half expected, she shivered. "Bloody hell," she muttered under her breath. "When you call me that …"
"What?" he teased, running his palms up and down her arms, thankful she was wearing a light summer dress instead of a lab coat. He didn't think he'd have been able to deal if she'd been wearing a lab coat. "Isn't Miranda your name?"
"Yes." Her fingers trembled slightly as she affixed a Band-Aid to his skin, "but no one ever calls me that."
"Too bad. It fits you."
She blinked up at him. "Does it? Why?" He was so distracting. She'd told him he didn't need to remove his shirt, but he had anyway, giving her a cocky grin all the while.
Staring at the raw masculinity that was Brass made it real hard to focus. And he definitely knew it.
He grinned. "It's a little old-fashioned, I think, but sexy. And smart."
"Compliments will get you nowhere," but her lips were twitching. She knew Brass had been terrified coming in here. But he'd done it. All for a chance to get close to her. Randi couldn't pretend that didn't make her engines rev just a bit. Not that he needed to do much, just looking at him made her want to purr.
Her hand still rested on his forearm and with a start, Randi realized she was absently stroking him there. "Sorry," she whispered, suddenly aware she was between his thighs, his big hands circling her upper arms, moving up and down in a light rhythm that was making her heart race.
He'd refused to sit on the exam table, insisting on hopping on the counter instead. Now she was looking up at those deep amber eyes, surrounded by his warmth and wanting to move even closer.
"Nothing to be sorry about, Doc. You want to touch me, you go right ahead." The soft rumble in his voice made her shiver again. Her fingertips still on that strong, steady pulse beat. She cleared her throat, trying to clear her head as well, but it didn't work.
"I am touching you." She licked her lips and felt his pulse jump.
"You know what I mean, Doc." Brass grabbed her hand in his, pulling it to his bare chest, flattening it so her fingers spread wide. "Go ahead. Explore."
"I …" Despite herself, Randi's hand started to move of its own free will. God, he was so hard all over. There was so fat on him anywhere, just fascinating ridges and skin like heavy satin under her palm. Heat spread from between her legs to her tummy, licking out to her breasts, making them ache and peak against her thin dress.
Brass made a sound, deep and wild in the back of his throat. A sound that was unmistakably possessive and scary, but she couldn't move. His warm hands came down, settling on her hips, then yanking her up so that she was effectively straddling his big thigh. She gasped at the shock of delicious pressure against her needy core, unable to stop herself from squirming.
"Brass."
Dear God, was that breathless whine her?
"Put me down." She had both hands on his chest now, running up and down the muscular expanse, then digging in to his corded shoulders as he yanked her even closer. Deliberately, Brass ground his thigh into her center, making her head fall back, her mouth opening she tried to suck in air. Hot, tingling pulses radiated from deep inside her pussy; echoed in her clit and nipples. Her mind was going blank, she couldn't remember why it was so important to stop this. It felt too good.
"Nope. I can feel your need, Miranda. I can smell it. Let me give you pleasure."
She tried to say something back, not sure what it might be, but his mouth was already covering hers.
