I can’t. Can I?
He’s hot. Achingly so.
I just want to rip his clothes off.
But that bad boy pop star is totally forbidden.
On so many levels, not the least of which he’s a patient.
In our treatment clinic.
Yeah, I know.
Rich. Famous. Alpha. Hottie.
So, yeah, I can’t stop thinking of him.
I’m a good girl. A nurse. He’s got women throwing themselves at him.
But, damn, he’s all over me.
Flirting, touching … kissing. Me.
He says I’m his. And I’m falling … hard.
This is gonna get freaky real fast.
I can’t go there.
Cross that line.
Maybe I already have.