recommended, ever. The vagina actually does more good for itself, naturally, if you let it. Douches strip away those good things."
"Okay." Yeah, that's all I got on the subject, not one I'm looking to discuss.
"So, alright, we'll take another pass at it. You know I have to ask, would you like—"
"Is one of your nurses begging to see my goods or what? My God, how many times must I say I'm fine without spectators?"
Scrubbing a hand over his mouth to hide the smirk, those eyes of his twinkle with amusement. "As far as I'm aware, none of my staff is vying for a peek. It's a requirement that I ask, each and every time."
I offer a grateful smile for his professionalism. "This is a small town. The less people I run into who've seen my bits, the better. No worries here. Proceed." I flop back against the table with ceremonious flair, not caring which part of my robe flies open. Own it, right?
Obviously taking his sweet time, I sit back up and decide to help, attempting to go ahead and raise the stirrups for him while he does the glove/tray thing, attempt being the key word. I fail miserably, nearly upside down trying to pull out the difficult metal contraptions.
At the echoing clatter, his head cocks back a smidge, one brow raised. "Anxious, are we?"
I roll my eyes and sit back, realizing the stirrups are not going to cooperate. Dr. Reynolds strides over and of course makes easy work of them. Show off .
"Nice socks," he says with a teasing smile, guiding my feet one at time up and into place.
I shoot him a proud grin, then in one big scoot, move myself forward all the way to the end. The looming possibility of a nervous freak out is absent this time, perhaps because he's already seen all I'd kept hidden for so long.
"You remember how this works, right?" He reaches for the lamp. "Legs wide apart."
With one big breath in, I relax and allow my legs to fall open as he pulls up the bottom of my robe.
"Speculum in." He eases the cold metal inside me, then stills, waiting to hear my exhale of acceptance. "And a pinch. Good, Addison, stay relaxed for me."
It's easier this time, since I know what to expect. There's only my clammy hands and an obvious case of goosebumps, which I blame on the chill in the air, despite the heat raging under my surface. I still wonder if I feel wet, if he's using some sort of lubricant, or if the lamp is in fact the source of great heat.
"Speculum closing, and," I feel it slide from me, "out. You did great this time." He stands over me, sitting the tool on the tray. There is no quick turning around on his part, no attempt to hide the easy smile he's wearing, gentle and kind.
My breath hitches when he pulls off his gloves and tosses them in the trash beside him, never breaking the connection between us. As if I'd silently asked for more, he delicately places his hand on my calf, I assume to help lower my legs, but no. Rather, his eyes bore into my own, never wavering, as his thumb rubs slow circles over my sensitive flesh.
This I'm not imagining, or wishing— this is actually, tangibly happening.
I do nothing to stop him, remaining absolutely still, focused on his powerful stare and the feel of his thumb massaging against my skin. Legs open, robe brazenly agape, I lie there unashamed, completely mesmerized.
"Addison," he murmurs in a deep timbre, "I—" His head shoots to the door.
Why sure, why wouldn't someone knock right at that exact moment? I mean, this is my luck we're talking about here. More disappointed than startled, I lazily sit up, drawing my legs together and straightening the robe as he moves away.
With a peek back at me, confirming that I'm composed enough to welcome a possible third party, he cracks open the door the slightest bit.
By the time he's done speaking with whomever was out in the hall and turns back, I've gotten down off the table and pulled my yoga pants up on under the robe.
"I have to go. I'll, uh, someone will call as soon as your results are in," he