Page 22 of Challenge
Oh my God, it’s turning me on!
Even knowing this, I still don’t want to stop. I can’t stop. Some dormant inner sex kitten has awakened inside of me and completely taken over my body. I’m now being commanded by my vagina and that duplicitous brain of mine is on a holiday in Yorkshire for all I know. Maybe it’s this room. It doesn’t even feel like the hospital. It feels like a hotel room. A hotel room where very bad things can happen.
When I conceal myself under the towel, I hear a growl of frustration come from somewhere in his throat. Satisfied, I skillfully kick out of my shoes and shimmy out of my pants, underwear, and finally, my bra.
We stand facing each other in matching towels, completely bare underneath. The only thing separating us is ten feet and a single piece of fabric. The realisation of that fact causes our breaths to come heavier than before. I can’t stop appreciating the full fleshy sight of him in nothing but a towel. Good God, he really is nothing short of male, human anatomy perfection.
“Impressive,” he states deadpan.
I don’t know if he’s referring to my body or my skilled act of getting naked under a towel. Either way, my voice is shaky when I reply, “Can you get me those clothes now, please?”
I fear if he doesn’t get me clothes, I will do something even more stupid than this moment right now, which is already catastrophically senseless.
He remains frozen in place.
“Please, Camden?” I ask again and cross my arms over my chest. “Your night nurse might be coming any minute.”
He glances at the clock. “Actually, we have a whole hour.”
“Are you sure?” My nakedness doesn’t feel as empowering as it did initially.
“Positive,” he murmurs as he grabs his brace up off the bed and deftly secures it over his injured knee. He finishes and stands up straight, mirroring my pose by folding his arms over his chest. His biceps widen and flex, and my eyes take note of the veins running the length of his forearms.
“I’ll get you some clothes, but I’ve got a bone to pick with you first and it has nothing to do with the one you’re slicing into tomorrow.” His familiar challenging eye twinkle is back and it’s actually kind of comforting.
“We’re not slicing into your bone tomorrow, Camden.” I roll my eyes.
“Semantics,” he grumbles. His damp chest rises with a deep breath before he continues, “You seemed awful keen on avoiding me today.”
I frown, shocked by his accusation that I never saw coming. “I had somewhere to be,” I retort, marching closer to him to state my case. I’m stunned to see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but he quickly conceals it. My voice softens, “And it’s a good thing I left when I did or Dr. Prichard might have caught me in here.”
His blue eyes narrow further, his lashes covering the colour almost entirely. “Why didn’t you want to take me for my MRI? I’ve heard you’ve been around. My family have all talked to you. That intern. But despite the fact that you aremydoctor, not theirs, you avoided me like I had a bad case of herpes, which I know is fully cleared up right now.”
“You have herpes?” I screech and slap my hand over my mouth, afraid of drawing his nurse’s attention outside.
“Fuck no, Indie. It’s a bloody joke.”
“Why would you joke about a lifelong STD?”
He scoffs and drops his hands to his hips. “You have my damn medical chart. You’d know if I had herpes.”
He’s right. For a moment I forgot I am his doctor.
“Would it disappoint you if I had herpes?” he asks, his tone far too serious.
“Yes! What the hell are you going on about?”
“Why would it bother you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why would you care if I had an STD?”
“Because it’s herpes. It’d be weird if I wasn’t bothered. And…” I falter.
“And what?” he volleys.
“And I’m…”
