Page 44 of Fixation
Through my rambling, I’m being seared by his heated gaze. A gaze no doctor should aim at one of his patients.
“Tell me what’s wrong, dammit.” I reach for him, then remember I can’t lift my arm. “I need to go to the hospital, right? Oh, no. Please, if you can’t help me here, take me?—”
The rest of the sentence dissolves on my lips.
Dr. Psycho brings the tip of the thermometer to his lips.
Dips his tongue out.
And licks my saliva off it.
Then he closes his mouth around it, flutters his eyes shut, and sucks.
I’m no longer feverish. I’m on fire. A real, relentless burn that climbs over my skin.
Lust crashes through me. Humiliation, that’s there too.
In spades.
I must smell awful. I’m contagious.
None of that stops him from enjoying this. He lets out another manly hum that reaches down to my toes, before he pops the thermometer out.
His attention is on my face, his hand roaming over my shoulder. The side of my neck.
“You’re embarrassed.” He raises an eyebrow. “Beautiful emotion, though you shouldn’t be. See this wet spot on my shirt?”
Kind of hard to miss now that he’s right there, on his chest. Dark and embarrassing, since it’s obviously either my sweat or my spit.
Whatever.
My lips remain sealed. I won’t play along. Never.
“This is you. You were drenched in cold sweat when you arrived at the hospital.” The humiliation, it’s overwhelming. A whimper bursts out of me, and he smirks. Bastard. “I helped you bathe. Came down here to run a wet cloth over you again thirty minutes ago. This is the second time now that I’ve dressed you in clean clothes. Me, on the other hand?—”
“You did what?” This is the worst. He violated me. I could tell someone helped me get clean me, but my mind’s been too groggy to connect the dots until he spelled it out for me. “You did fucking what?”
“Nothing sexual happened. Yet.”
“I hate you.” This damn throbbing between my thighs. Body betrayal is as painful as a hammer dropping on my finger. As a blow torch scalding my flesh. “Let me go.”
“My point being, I wore my sweat-soaked scrubs after our shared bath.” His ability to ignore my pleas is on another level. So is his obsession with my bodily fluids. “I’ve been waiting to have you this close. I revel in it, ergo, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Waiting?” My brain hurts. The pressure is unbearable. This isn’t happening. This isn’t my life. I was imagining a friendly, harmless stalker. I got this instead. “For how long? How long have you been stalking me?”
“You’ve realized I’ve been doing it for a while on your own, Harper. I saw the recorded feed on my cameras. You called out to me. Clever girl. You’ll find the rest out soon enough. When I”—he raises his voice, slamming a hand to his chest—“decide it’s time. Only me.”
“You’re insane.” Why has no one caught on to that? His professors at med school, his fellow doctors. Anyone?
This unhinged person should never be allowed within one hundred miles of other people, let alone take care of them.
He shouldn’t, yet he is.
Yet he’s here.
Alone in the basement.
With me.
