Page 9 of Filthy Ruck

“Doctor,” I reminded him, as if he would have forgotten the last thirty seconds. “Let me guess, your coach said he wantedyour cheek looked at. You might need a stitch or two. Give me a moment to pull on some gloves.”

“But you were… The other night…” He frowned deeply.

“Yes, I was.” I snapped on my gloves and grabbed a clean washer to wipe the blood from his face. “Hold still.”

He jerked away from me again and hissed, “What the fuck is going on? Is this some kind of joke? Is there a camera watching us?” He glanced around, grey eyes darker, like thunderclouds.

“Yes, it's a prank,” I said sarcastically. “Women aren't really doctors. Ha ha, got you going there, didn't I?”

I could only wish this was the first time I'd had this conversation with a man.

He stared at me.

I sighed. “I really am a doctor. Would you like to see my qualifications?”

“Where's Doctor Stuart?” Storm looked around the infirmary.

“He's finishing up paperwork,” I said. “You'd be surprised how much it takes to do a placement like this. Paperwork is always the worst part of the job. Is this where you tell me you'll wait and risk bleeding to death before you let me treat you?”

Also not the first time I'd had to ask something like that.

“Let's make this easy. You sit down on the treatment table and I treat you. It's really that simple.”

I'd known being the new face on the team was going to be difficult, but I hadn't expected the resistance to come from him, and not over something like this. In spite of the blood, it was little more than a cut. A stitch or two in place for a couple of days would set it right. If he could put aside whatever was going on and let me do my job.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Who are you? Why are you here? Don't bullshit me,Panther.”

I resisted the incredibly strong urge to roll my eyes, and inhaled slowly instead.

“That's not the question, is it? You really want to ask why I was at Flirts.” Neither of us needed me to elaborate, and the last thing I needed was for someone else to walk in and overhear. I wasn't ashamed of what I did, but it was a complication I didn't need this early in the placement. Especially not when I was angling to be added to the team permanently after I graduated with my specialty degree.

Sports medicine, it was all I ever wanted to do. Treating athletes and working with professional teams. My whole life, I worked towards that goal. I sacrificed everything for it. I wasn't going to let anyone screw it up now. Especially not myself.

“I guess so,” he said. “You didn't mention any of this. Did you know who I was?”

“Is that what this is about?” I scrunched up the washer in my hand, ignoring the way water dripped from it and onto the floor. “I said I'd be discreet.”

“Nothing happened,” he said, his expression tight.

“No, it didn't,” I agreed. “Like I said, no one will hear about that from me. For the record, what I do there, I do because it pays the bills. It put me through medical school. Graduate school too. This placement I'm doing, to get up my hours of experience— I don't get paid for a minute of this. Not one. My night job is how I live. It puts food on my table. It helps fund my obsession with pot plants.” I managed a small laugh and loosened my grip on the washcloth.

“As for your bigger concern,” men and their egos, “Yes, I knew who you were. I had no idea I'd be accepted for this placement. It was my first choice, but it's also the first choice of most of my cohorts. I figured I'd get placed with the Dusk Bay Demons ice hockey team, or maybe the Opal Springs Ghouls. Orthe Ghosts.” I was babbling now. I pressed my lips together for a moment.

“The point is, if I knew I'd end up here, I wouldn't have spoken to you. I would have gone off with that guy who wanted the blowjob.” I knew my words would provoke him, and they did. The skin that wasn't covered with blood turned slightly pink.

He shook his head. “You were looking at me while you were…” He glanced toward the doorway. “Taking your clothes off. You singled me out. What do you want?”

“You were standing right at the front and centre,” I pointed out. “How could I miss you? Hell, how do I know you had no idea whoIwas? Maybe you were at Flirts the other night knowing I'd end up here. You wanted to make me uncomfortable for some reason.”

I looked at him sideways. I knew very well all of this was bullshit. He had no idea who I was. I was just a body for him to leer at. He would have done it to any of the dancers.

He scoffed. “How the fuck would I know a stripper was really a doctor? I've never met a doctor who was so willing to show me their pussy. Is that how you got this gig? Who did you fuck for it?”

I could have happily slapped him across the face, then pointed the finger at him for sexual harassment. But I'd heard all of this bullshit too many times before. How did I get top marks in class, had I given the professor a blowjob? How did I do so well in exams? Who had I spread my legs for?

Rather than getting angry, I was bored of the same crap I'd heard a million times before.

“I worked hard for it,” I said simply. “I only flash my pussy at Flirts. You know exactly how well I get paid to do it. Because I'm fucking good at it, just like I'm good at being a doctor. Now,are you going to sit down and let me treat you, or are we going to have a problem?”

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