The Wells Brothers: Luke by Angela Verdenius

handsome you trying to be nice to
lil ol’me.  I’m touched.”
    “You’ve got the last part right.” 
He peered down at his arm.  “I think you got all the scratches.”
    “What, afraid of the sting?”
    “Of your tongue or your administrations?”
    “Afraid I’m going to bite you?”
    “Your bite is definitely worse
than your bark.”
    Amused, she flashed him a grin. 
“Lift up your shirt.”
    One eyebrow rose above his
glasses.  “After my body now?”
    “Are you kidding me?  I have a
handsome chemist wanting to show me around, why would I be lusting after you?”
    Hooking the fingers of one hand
into the hem of his t-shirt, Luke drew it up to reveal an impressive six pack. 
“Try not to attack me.”
    “You’d be wishing.”  She ran the
cotton ball down several small scratches on his abdomen.  Man, she had to admit
he had a good set of muscles there.  And the heat from his body was kind
of…like a little wow .  She’d never been this close to him before, not
like this with her hands running over that ripped abdomen.
    Silence fell between them as she
tipped more Betadine onto a clean cotton ball and ran it over a couple more
scratches.
    Man, she’d never have ever
believed she’d actually be attending to Luke Well’s body.  She’d be the envy of
many a woman who had no doubt run their tongues over this same ripped body and
maybe further down to…  Her hand slowed as she traced a scratch near the
waistband of his jeans.
    Luke suddenly sucked in a breath,
making her hand slip, the tips of her fingers sliding into the waistband of his
jeans, the backs of her fingers brushing against his abdomen, the tips hitting
the waistband of his underwear.
    Heart giving a jump, nerves tingling
unexpectedly, Mikki tore her hand away like a shot.  “Sorry!”
    When he didn’t answer, she looked
up to find him watching her.  Damn, she wished she could see his eyes, know
what he was thinking, but nothing was revealed on that normally happy, handsome
face.
    He neither replied, moved away, nor
pulled his shirt down.
    Mouth dry, she dropped her eyes to
the bottle and cotton ball in her hands.  “Um...I think it’s all done.”
    She made to step back, only to
have him say quietly, “Not yet.”
    Startled, she looked back up at
him.  He continued to hold her gaze as he slowly drew the t-shirt up higher to reveal
one impressive pec.
    Her gaze was drawn like a magnet
to that pec, to the brown male nipple that graced it, to the swell of muscle,
to…  “It’s just a little scratch,” she squeaked.
    His voice deepened a
spine-tingling fraction.  “Needs Betadine.”
    Well hell, what was she supposed
to do?  Refuse to tend to it?  She had no idea if he was teasing her, leading
her on just a little for his own amusement, or - wait, yeah, that had to be
it.  He was amusing himself at her expense, the jerk.
    Setting her jaw, she locked her
eyes on his sunglasses and with admirable dexterity managed to get the cotton
ball onto the end of the Betadine bottle, tipped it, soaked the cotton ball
and, refusing to look away from his face, placed it on his pec and wiped up and
down several times.  “Better?” she asked sardonically.
    “Sure you got that in the right
place, Red?”
    “Of course.  I’m not an idiot.”
    “Because that’s my nipple you’re
rubbing.”
    She looked down, red seeping into
her cheeks.  Damn it, she’d just Betadined his nipple!  Missed the scratch by a
country mile!
    Play it cool .
    Taking a deep breath, she shifted
her hand to dab at the scratch on the other side of his pec.  Dab dab dab .
    Unexpectedly, his other hand came
up to wrap around her fingers.  “Don’t dab, Red.”
    “Huh?”
    “I like a firm stroke.”  His voice
was a little husky. 
    Oh boy .  She swallowed,
suddenly so aware of him leaning towards her, his abdomen and chest deliciously
on show, her hand in his.  And most definitely aware of the innuendo.
    Wait, was it innuendo? 
    “I like a