Page 9 of Dying for the Doctor

“Drake, is that you in there?” comes a man’s loud voice through the closed door. It sounds like that vaguely unnerving older doctor who’d seen me down in the ER last night. Doctor Lenworth. I didn’t like him. He pretty much dismissed my symptoms, told the nurse to give me some sedatives and keep me overnight for observation, like he was just humoring me. “Drake, you aren’t supposed to be in there,” shouts Lenworth. “Damn it, open this door or I’m going to call hospital security. Hell, I should call the police on your gangster ass. You hear me, Drake?”

“Shit.” Drake springs back upright from between my legs, and I feel a strange emptiness as the air swirls cool against the wet skin of my inner thighs. Suddenly I want Drake’s face back in there, his warm lips kissing me gently, his thick tongue filling my hole like it’s plugging a leak, fixing what’s broken, making me complete in a way I didn’t know was possible. “Damn it. Should have left the hospital when I had the chance. Should never have come in here. What was I thinking. Shit. Shit.Shit!”

“Wait, what?” Pulling my hospital gown over my naked sex, I snatch up the sheets and quickly cover myself. “You wish you’d never come in here?”

“What? No!” Drake’s eyes go wide, and he shakes his head vigorously. “Hey, that’s not what I meant, Wanda. That’s notwhat I fucking meant! Hey, listen, let me deal with Lenny and your parents, and then we’ll talk about what just happened, all right? Listen, what just happened was the most wonderful experience of my damn life, Wanda. Just let me handle this asshole Lenny first. I promise you, what just happened is not what it seems. I mean, it is what it seems in a way, but also isn’t. Shit, I don’t know what I’m saying. But I promise you, Wanda, I swear that I—”

“It’s all right.” Cutting him off sharply, my face droops to a sulky pout as I lie back and stare up at the ceiling. Now self-consciousness and anxiety leap to the forefront of my awareness, and I don’t know what to think about what just happened. Don’t know what to think about all that stuff Drake said about me being beautiful, about me being perfect, about me being . . . his.

Was any of that true?

Do Iwantany of it to be true?

Now I snort in disgust. Not at Drake but at myself. How dumb can I be to suddenly think that this handsome smooth-talking doctor takes one look at me and decides I’m perfect, I’m lovely, I’m his. How gullible am I to believe that despite the evidence that my mirror provides every day of my life, I’m suddenly beautiful like Cinderella at the ball.

Give me a break.

I’m just a dumb girl who got seduced by a fast-talking doctor.

The fast-talking doctor glances at me to make sure I’m covered up and decent. As if he gives a shit, I think angrily.

But the anger dissipates suddenly when Drake gazes at me with an expression that’s strangely warm, displaying a startling vulnerability in those once-cold blue eyes, like my angry reaction just now really got to him, really hurt him in a way that gives me a perverse delight.

It thrills me, and I try to keep pouting, refusing to look at him. Finally he sighs, shakes his head, then turns and strides tothe door. He looks angry at himself, and it makes me happy in a sickeningly childish way. I watch from the corner of my vision as Drake snaps the deadbolt aside with a loud click, then yanks at the doorknob so hard the door swings all the way open and slams into the rubber stopper against the alcove wall, almost flying off the hinges with the force of his self-directed anger.

Mama and Papa and Lenworth are right outside, but they all hesitate when Drake blocks the door with his body, standing tall and broad like a sentry, fisted hands on his hips, those purple gloves still wet with a sticky mixture of lubricants . . . both artificial and natural.

Inhaling sharply, I pick up the scent of my own sex from beneath the sheets. It arouses me in a startlingly filthy way, that salty-sweet, tangy-tart, dirty-delicious aroma that I realize must be all over Drake’s lips and tongue right now. Oh, the way he lapped at me like a wolf at a waterfall, drinking from me in the most filthy way . . . oh, God, am I . . . am Iwetagain right now? With Mama and Papa right there?! Oh, I’m going to hell, aren’t I. I’m a dirty filthy girl who deserves to go to hell.

Except none of it feels filthy at all, no matter how hard I try to scold myself. No, none of it was filthy, I decide firmly. None of it was wrong. None of it was bad.

In fact I loved every minute of it.

Loved every stroke, every lick, every flick.

Oh, God, did he really mean it when he said I’m his?

Maybe he did, it occurs to me as I admire Drake’s straight-backed, broad-shouldered posture, the way he’s standing in front of the door, positioned in line with the foot of my bed like some protective guardian from a mythical fantasy, a knight shielding his princess from the dragons.

Now the vividness of our shared fantasy envelopes me again, and suddenly I decide that yes, we’re still in that fantasy, still inthat dream, that dream where I’m his to heal, his to cure, his to make whole again.

As if Drake can feel the energy of my emotion, he turns his head sideways, glances slyly at me like we’re both in on the same secret, privy to some inside joke that nobody else gets because it’s ours, just ours, mine and his.

“You think this is a joke, Drake?” Lenworth steps into the room, peers around Drake’s tightly muscled frame and looks at me with a suspicious frown, his beady gray eyes scanning the outline of my body beneath the sheets. His long face twists into a frown, and he draws his attention back to Drake. “What the hell are you doing in here? Why was the door locked? What happened to the camera in this room? There’s no video feed on the monitor down by the reception desk. But all the other room-cameras seem to be working. Just this one camera is dead. Very suspicious. You know anything about that, Drake?”

Drake shrugs lazily, flicks his gaze to the camera, then shrugs again. “How the hell should I know? Ask the hospital tech guys.”

“Oh, I will.” Lenworth steps all the way into the room now, giving Mama and Papa space to enter.

Mama rushes to the side of my bed. Papa stands uncertainly by the door. Mama is whispering something to me, asking if I’m all right, but I don’t reply, just smile and nod, my attention focused on Drake and Lenworth.

“The same thing happened with a camera down on the Second Floor, where we had that Code Blue about a half hour ago.” Lenworth’s jaw is tight, his eyes like gray daggers. “No video signal from the camera to the monitor, just like this camera. A bit too coincidental, don’t you think?” He shakes his head, biting his thin bloodless lower lip and narrowing his eyes at Drake. “You know, I think you’d better stick around. Maybe I should call the police. They might have some questions abouthow the cameras seem to glitch out every time you walk into a hospital room.”

“Maybe it’s my magnetic personality, Lenny.” Drake chuckles dryly, then glances at Mama and smiles warmly at her, then at Papa by the door. “Look, I was on my way out when I ran into the Turners near the exit. They were worried about their daughter. I know the hospital is short-staffed right now and you were busy in the ER. So I thought I’d help the Turners out, take a look at their daughter, set everyone’s minds at ease.” He pauses, looks coolly at Lenworth. “You’re right, Lenny. It’s not protocol. I’m not on the staff rotation here. But I figured it’s all right because I’m still technically associated with the UNLV Medical Center. And I am still a doctor, Lenny. A damn good one.”

“Ten years ago, you were a good doctor.” Lenworth snorts. “Now you’re just another thug on Daddy’s payroll. Just because you don’t break kneecaps like the other goons in your dad’s crooked operation doesn’t mean you aren’t just like them.” He snorts again, shakes his head and scans the room with his gray-eyed gaze, like he’s looking for evidence of a crime.

I glance at Drake. He looks cool as ice, but I can tell that he doesn’t want to talk to the police. Is it because Drake is worried I’m going to say something that will get him in trouble?

---