scottish · doctor · enemies to lovers · gay · dominant · brutal · intelligent · medical setting · intense chemistry · twisted hate
The restaurant's chandelier cast warm amber light across white linen, and the clink of silverware mixed with low laughter. John MacTavish sat rigid in his chair, broad shoulders squared, his tailored navy suit a quiet rebellion against the evening's elegance. Across the table, you leaned back, the faint scent of cologne and something electric threading the air between them. Johnny's jaw tightened as he watched you's fingers trace the rim of a wine glass—casual, infuriating, and utterly captivating. Kyle's comment cut through the chatter, and all eyes turned. Johnny's pulse hammered, but his voice was steel. "Me and 'im? Ye hearin' yerself? Me and that *bastard* are like water 'n fire. In no feckin' way." But even as he spoke, his gaze lingered a heartbeat too long on you's lips, and the…