Page 3 of Yes, Doctor (Master Me #2)

C hloe drove home with her bottom burning.

Dr. Drake had told her if the heat became too much to handle, she should call the clinic and be transferred to him because he was on call but there was no way she was doing that.

She assumed that was the equivalent of safe-wording, and she would never humiliate herself that way.

Besides...it was a good burn, a heady reminder of the kinky exploit she’d just had.

And she enjoyed the flutter of naughtiness it incited.

She jumped in the shower, but the water only caused the burning to increase. The worst part was that he’d sent her home without actually fucking her. Because now, with her ass on fire, her pussy dripped with wanton need, and no amount of masturbation or vibrators were going to give her relief.

Why hadn’t he sought any kind of release for himself? She’d seen the giant bulge in his pants. Was it part of his control thing?

Because clearly the game fit his personality.

No one played so well without being into it.

He obviously loved being in charge of her and her body, being the voice of authority she could not resist. He could not have improved the scene—having her completely naked, her legs spread, her most intimate parts vulnerable to his plunder, all while he stood around fully clothed, in his white doctor’s coat, calling all the shots.

She picked up the phone to call Leigh Ann.

Then hung up again. She was too horny for chit chat.

She flopped on her bed and slid her hand into her panties, not surprised to find her lady parts still swollen and ready for action.

It only took a few strokes of her fingers to come to climax, but it did little to relieve her need.

Getting up, she pulled on a pair of running shorts and a tank top and put on her sneakers. She needed to get rid of some energy.

She took off down her street too fast, fully knowing that without pacing herself, she’d be falling down dead in less than a mile.

She didn’t care. She replayed the entire examination three times in her mind before she returned to the question that really drove all her thoughts: would it happen again?

Had this been a one-time fling? Or would they make it a regular thing?

And if it became a regular thing, would it just remain purely sexual?

Or would the dashing Dr. Drake pursue a real relationship with her?

How would he treat her on Monday? Like it had never happened?

Or like they shared a special secret? Would she ever be able to look at him again?

She would like to pretend she didn’t care either way, that she could roll with it, and take the one-off kinky sex and enjoy it for the fabulous story it made (and she had every intention of sharing almost all the details with Leigh Ann and her other friends).

But deep down she knew, if she showed up at work on Monday and Dr. Dreamy acted like nothing happened, she would be crushed.

By the time she made it back home, with a stitch in her side and a cramped calf muscle, she had steeled her resolve. She needed to get back on matchme.com and find a date. Pronto. Pining and daydreaming about some fantasy relationship with her boss wasn’t healthy or realistic.

So what if she had a few bad dates? That was how you weeded out the losers. Eventually, she’d find someone…

Or not.

She took a second shower, rubbing her calf muscle down under the warm water, her thumbs digging into the origin of the muscle, behind her knee. She took her time and shaved, wishing she’d done it that morning, before she found herself under intense examination. Oh well, too late for that.

She put on a pair of soft pajamas, disappointed the sting of Dr. Drake’s punishment had faded. Picking up the phone, she dialed Leigh Ann.

“You’re never going to believe what happened to me today.”

She filled her friend in on most of it, leaving out the anal examination, which was just too embarrassing to even admit had happened.

“So he didn’t get off? At all? Did you offer to help?”

Her heart plummeted. “I-I didn’t...it was like, he was in control, so I didn’t even think to take charge in any way. I totally should have, huh?”

“Well, it’s okay,” Leigh Ann reassured her quickly. “If he was calling the shots, he could have taken care of his own needs. Maybe that’s part of his kink—holding himself back.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too,” she said, the sinking sensation growing. “That’s not good, though, is it?”

“It sounded to me like it was pretty fabulous.”

“I mean, it doesn’t bode well for a relationship.”

Leigh Ann was silent long enough to tell her that she should not have even been considering her boss for a boyfriend position. “Right…” she said. “I shouldn’t be thinking that way.”

“Well, I mean, you never know,” Leigh Ann said, as her cheerleader and consummate optimist. “But I’d stick to matchme.com for finding Mr. Right.”

“I know, I know. I was just going to get on there and see if anyone interesting has turned up.”

She sat down at her laptop with the phone still pressed to her ear and opened up her email. “Ooh, I got a few messages. Let’s see if any are date-worthy.” She clicked through to check out the profile of the first one and made a buzzer noise. “Cheesehead is way too old for me. Ugh.”

“Well how old is Dr. Dreamy?”

“Not sure—youngish. Definitely under forty.”

“Okay, who else?”

“Let’s see...this guy looks about twelve.” She made another buzzer sound.

Leigh Ann laughed.

“They’re all horrible. I totally give up!”

“Don’t throw in the towel,” Leigh Ann counseled. “Mr. Right is out there.”

Guilt wracked Darren all weekend. Taking advantage of his employee like that had been dastardly. If any of the other doctors in the practice found out, he’d be out on his ear. Not to mention possible repercussions from the ethics board.

He imagined the headline: Local Gynecologist Sexually Harasses CNA, Performs Unnecessary Pelvic Exam

Granted it had been consensual, but he had zero proof of that. If she decided to tell someone—anyone—his goose would be cooked.

At least he had held back from getting his own pleasure. It had been his rationale for going through with the illicit adventure. He told himself he was just helping her realize her fantasies. Yeah, right. Totally altruistic.

And he felt a bit trapped about what to do next. Continuing their reindeer games greatly increased his chances of getting caught or found out. But not pursuing the most interesting relationship he’d had in ages would also be a serious mistake.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to figure anything out because he ended up with three women in labor Sunday night and was at the hospital until noon the following day. By the time all the babies had been safely delivered, he had worked seventeen hours straight and went home to sleep.

Tuesday morning he had a scheduled surgery and then two more of their practice’s patients went into labor, so he ended up at the hospital all day once more.

By Wednesday his tryst with Chloe seemed ages ago, and yet he couldn’t wait to see her.

He went in early to catch up before he had to start seeing patients and found her lab results on his desk.

He picked up the report and looked at it, smiling as he remembered how horrified she’d been at him actually taking a real sample.

He carried the report to the reception desk, asking Sandra, the main receptionist to start a file on Chloe.

“Okay. Are we billing on this?”

“No charge,” he said firmly. “Thank you, Sandra.”

As he walked back in the hall, Chloe stepped in through the back door, her head jerking higher when she saw him. He stopped and waited, not knowing exactly what to say or how to act, considering his colleagues were everywhere.

“Dr. Drake, your eight-thirty is ready in Room 4,” said Jenny, the clinic nurse, handing him a file folder.

“Thank you,” he said absently, still waiting for Chloe.

“Good morning, Doctor Drake,” she said in what sounded like the sexiest voice he’d ever heard. His cock twitched. But no, surely it was his imagination. She’d only said good morning.

He found himself incapable of answering, as all the responses that came to mind included completely inappropriate words or behavior.

Jenny would probably notice if he shoved Chloe against the wall with his knee between her legs.

He settled for touching her back as she passed him—just a light brush, innocent enough—to let her know.

..well, he didn’t know exactly what he wanted her to tell her.

That he was dying to spread her legs again?

That he hadn’t forgotten the heady scent of her arousal, or the way her face twisted in ecstasy as she’d climaxed?

That he’d already imagined one thousand other things he’d like to do to her?

He gave himself a mental shake and stepped into the exam room.

The day flew by and he only saw Chloe in passing until the end of the day when he saw her gathering her things to go.

“Chloe?” he called down the hall.

She looked up expectantly.

“May I see you for a moment? In my office?”

“Oh, um, sure.”

He loved that she still looked flustered by him, not knowing how much she already had him in the palm of her hand.

Well, that was the way he liked to keep it.

He loved holding the reins of a relationship, which had eventually driven his ex-wife to divorce him.

But he liked to think he’d learned a few things about himself since then.

She followed him into his clinic, leaving the door open.

“Sit down,” he said, indicating the chair opposite his desk.

She sank into the seat and picked at her fingernails.

“I’d like to get a copy of your previous medical records,” he said, sliding a consent form across the desk.

Her head jerked up in surprise. “Why?”

“Well, you’re under my care now.”

Her eyes went wide. “Did my pap come back abnormal?”

He immediately regretted playing doctor authority games with her. “No. Everything looked fine. There’s no cause for alarm. I’d just like to have a full picture. That is...if you do actually trust me to be your doctor?”

She looked uncertain and he was surprised by how much her mistrust bothered him. But of course she wouldn’t want him to be her doctor—he’d been as unethical as a doctor gets with her.

“I guess it’s hard to put yourself in the hands of a doctor who hasn’t proven himself to be trustworthy,” he said.

“No,” she said quickly. “I totally trust you. I do. I just feel weird, that’s all.”

The irony of working as a nurse assistant when she mistrusted all doctors was not lost on her.

It wasn’t personal with Dr. Drake—she hated the medical profession as a whole.

She hated the way they held all the power, as if she couldn’t handle the responsibility of making decisions about her own body.

“Weird, how?”

She flushed and shrugged.

“Do you think you could come to trust me in spite of my past indecent behavior?” He arched a brow, “Or perhaps it’s because of it?” he teased.

She giggled, grateful at the release of tension. “Yeah, I guess I could. I mean, at least I know if you’re sneaking extra peeks at my va-jay-jay for thrills, you’ll include me in the fun.”

He threw back his head and laughed, a deep, rich sound that warmed her. “That’s one way to view it,” he said.

Sandra, the receptionist buzzed through on his phone. “Dr. Drake, Dr. Roberts is on line five.”

He gave her a regretful look. “I’m sorry.”

She jumped to her feet. “No problem,” she said, and signed the order for her medical record release. “Thanks.”

As she walked out of his office, she tried to decipher their conversation.

Was he just being friendly? Or rather, responsible as a doctor?

Or did his request to be her doctor mean something more?

But that was stupid—they hardly knew each other outside the workplace and one torrid pelvic exam.

To imagine a request for medical records equalled an interest in being her Mr. Right was like believing Prince Charming would be showing up at her door with a glass slipper.

Besides, did she really want more with him? Didn’t her dislike of doctors confirm the medical thing wasn’t for her? She sighed and went home to peruse the matchme.com profiles and try to find a real date.