Page 9 of Deeply Examined

I stand, straightening my coat. Time to put an end to this.

To her hold over me.

To my fucking weakness.

I push open the door and go to exam room six.

Chapter three

Jessica

By the time he finally enters, I’m a mess of anxiety and insecurity.

“Ms. Jones.” He gives me a nod, his expression unreadable.

Uh-oh. Is he angry, upset, or, worst of all, doesn’t care?

He looks over my vital signs the nurse wrote down.

“Have you been continuing your self-exams at home?” he asks.

An image of me screaming into my pillow with my vibrator between my legs flashes through my mind.

“Yes, doctor,” I answer.

“Good,” he says, and I feel a twinge of pride. I’m not sure why, but I want his approval.

He moves toward me and explains, “Today we’re going to do a speculum exam so I can get your pap smear done. Do you know what that is?” He gestures to a metal tray that’s been pulled up to the side of my table. A long sheet of paper towels are draped over the top of it, so I haven’t been able to see what the tray contains. With an efficient movement, he whips it off, revealing a variety of jars, Q-tips, and swabs. A large silver speculum sits on the tray. It’s bigger than any I’ve seen before, with its long neck secured by screws.

Dr. West picks it up and holds it out before me. The overhead lights reflect off its shiny surface.

“Yes, I’ve had that done before,” I answer.

He frowns at that, the expression fleeting. “I doubt you’ve been examined as deeply as I’m going to do. I need to take a good look today.”

I shouldn’t feel excited by those words. It’s so wrong, yet somehow I am. “Okay,” I agree breathlessly.

Dr. West unfolds the stirrups, and I place my heels into them. Without warning, he grasps my hips and drags me down to him. He pulls me so that my butt almost hangs off the table. Like the last time, he turns on the bright light and directs its beam at the space between my legs. The wheels squeak when he takes a seat on the rolling stool.

“Let’s see what we have going on here,” he says. I watch him apply a thin layer of lubricant to the speculum.

“Drop your knees to the sides,” he commands.

I do as he asks, letting my legs fall open. A wave of lamp-warmed air hits my core, which is already damp. Moisture has been pooling there ever since he walked into the room.

This time, when his fingers separate me, I can feel the warmth of his skin through his gloves. It’s surprising, so I jump slightly.

“Hold still,” he admonishes.

“I’m sorry, doctor.”

His fingers have moved deeper. They are probing, sliding along my folds, searching for my opening. It feels divine to have him touch me again. My head drops back with a sigh.

He gives a small grunt of satisfaction when he finds what he wants. He slips a finger inside of me and works it around, stretching me out. It’s wrong to enjoy his touch like this. I try to ignore how it turns me on. I try not to moan, but it’s impossible.

He’s a lightning rod, and I’m the lightning. I can’t help being attracted to him.

Suddenly his finger is gone.

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