Page 13 of Healed By the Grumpy Elf

"We're absolutely thrilled to have an elf doctor visiting our humble institution." He extends a massive hand, engulfing mine completely. "I’ve already told the children that elves make the best doctors. If you need a doctor, look for an elf, I always say. I mean, most of you stay at the High Court for a reason. Am I right?"

I extract my hand from his grip. "A doctor is a doctor, regardless of species."

And you can keep your stereotypes to yourself as well.

"Of course, of course." He waves dismissively. "This way, please. Ms. Grimsby's kindergarten class is eagerly awaiting your wisdom."

He leads me down a corridor lined with student artwork, crude finger paintings and lopsided clay sculptures all following the same theme. Each classroom we pass reveals another scene that makes my palms sweaty. Children sitting in circles on carpeted floors, gathered around tables covered in craft supplies, or engaged in what appears to be some form of regulated mayhem disguised as education.

"Here we are." Principal Braggstone stops outside a door decorated with handprints in various colors. "Ah, and here's our lucky classroom!"

A human woman stands by the doorway, and the moment I see her, something shifts in my perception. The cacophony of school sounds fades to background noise, and it’s like looking through a tunnel. All I can see is the woman.

I’m too shocked to even ask myself what’s happening to me.

She's petite, with a mass of shockingly red curls partially contained in a loose bun. If she wears any makeup or other artifices, I can’t decipher it. She is wearing a simple cardigan over a floral dress, practical shoes, and a name tag that reads Nurse Maeve Callahan. Freckles dusther nose and cheeks, standing out against fair skin. But it's her eyes that catch and hold my attention, green as forest moss, alert and intelligent. Her mouth is round, full, and soft-looking.

In a flash of uncharacteristically unprofessional thoughts, I wonder how that mouth would look wrapped around my cock. How those eyes would look hooded with passion as she comes under me.

What’s happening to me?I manage, through pure, sheer force of will, to dispel the images from my mind. Mostly.

"Dr. Reizenhart, this is our school nurse, Maeve Callahan." Principal Braggstone's voice sounds distant. "Maeve, this is our new town physician."

She extends her hand, and I take it automatically. Her skin is warm against mine, the contact sending an unexpected current up my arm. Her hand is small but her grip is firm, confident.

I feel the images swirling around in my brain, ready to come back to the forefront any second. This isn’t right. I am a doctor, a professional. I never react to women this way, not even attractive ones like her.

"It's nice to meet you, Dr. Reizenhart." Her voice is melodic, with a hint of huskiness that suggests laughter is never far away. "We're all very excited to have you here today."

I'm still holding her hand. Why am I still holding her hand?

I should say something. Anything.

"Likewise," I manage, the word coming out more stiffly than intended. “Ms. Callahan.”

“You can just call me Maeve.” She chuckles, and the sound feels like tingles across my face. “Or Nurse Maeve, as the children call me.”

Seconds trickle by as I nod at her, my mind a blank, my hand still holding hers as erotic images pop into my brain, unbidden.

Say something, you idiot.

“Very well, Maeve. You can call me Lorian. Or Dr. Reizenhart. Either is fine.”

Maeve Callahan’s brows lift and her gaze darts to our hands, still joined. I want to let go, I really do. But it’s like my body refuses to respond to my commands.

Principal Braggstone clears his throat loudly, and it’s like the breaking of a spell. I release her hand abruptly.

Finally.

"Well, then." The principal steps closer to Nurse Callahan, placing a meaty hand on her shoulder. "I'll leave you in Maeve's capable hands. She knows the school better than anyone."

I don't miss how she stiffens at his touch, her smile becoming fixed. Something protective and entirely unexpected stirs within me. Suddenly, I don’t like this troll principal. I don’t like him at all.

"Thank you, Principal Braggstone." Her tone remains professional, but there's a new tension in her posture. "I'll make sure Dr. Reizenhart finds everything he needs."

The principal nods, his hand lingering on Maeve Callahan’s shoulder a beat too long before he turns and lumbers down the hallway. Only when he's out of sight does she relax, shoulders dropping slightly.

"Ms. Grimsby is ready for you." She gestures toward the classroom door. "Just to warn you, kindergarteners can be a tough crowd, but they're usually won over by stickers or silly jokes."