by Krista Lakes
“I'm so glad. I knew I needed an expert medical opinion.”
“I think we need to test your heart rate out a little more. Lay down for me.”
I lay back on the bed, my head on the pillow.
Jacob took the stethoscope from his ears and draped it over his shoulders again. “Spread your legs, please.”
I quickly did as he asked.
“Excellent. Now for the exam.” He caressed my breasts before following the curves of my hips. He traced his fingers across my stomach down to my open legs.
The man knew his anatomy. He found my pleasure center in less than a second. I gasped as he sent a surge of sensation that ran up my spine and tingled out to my finger tips.
“You have excellent responses,” he said, sliding a finger into me. His fingers knew exactly where to touch. My hips arched upward, and I moaned with delight. His skilled hands thrust and sought my depths.
Quicker than I thought possible, I was there. He pulled pleasure through my veins, filling me with overwhelming sensation. I started to tremble.
“Come for me,” he whispered, his fingers bringing even more pleasure. “Let me see you.”
With a gasp, I crested the mountain to orgasm. His hand kept working, thrusting and filling me with his fingers to cause me unbearable pleasure.
“I can see that your nervous system is working appropriately,” he murmured as I lay shuddering on the bed before him.
“I think you need to do some further exams,” I gasped. I looked down at his massive erection, just waiting to give me more pleasure.
He grinned and reached for the stash of condoms I now kept in my nightstand. It was on in a second, and he was up on the bed with me.
“The doctor is in,” I whispered as he slid into me. I giggled, but it quickly turned into a moan.
“Holy shit,” he said reverently as he filled me, his voice trailing off and the sounds blending together.
It gave me a rush to know I reduced this smart, sexy man to nothing more than single syllables. He lost himself to me, letting himself go as he could with no one else.
We moved slowly at first. I reached up and grabbed the stethoscope, using it to pull him further into me. It was leverage that I gladly utilized to have even more of him.
I kissed him, breathless and needful. I looked up to see that he was watching me with dark eyes. He needed me as much as I needed him. I let go of the stethoscope and wrapped my arms around his neck.
He held onto the headboard, using it as his own leverage to thrust deeper into me. My hips arched and bucked into him, wanting even more of him. He filled me completely, yet I wanted more. I couldn't get enough of him, even when he was hilt deep.
“More, Doctor,” I whispered. He thrust harder.
“Anything you want, Nurse,” he gasped.
He sat up and with a smooth motion flipped me onto my stomach. He pressed his hand into my low back and skewered me. I cried out as he filled me from a new direction.
He was in complete control with his hand on my lower back. I could writhe, but he set the pace. I moaned into the pillow, losing myself to his every thrust.
“Hannah,” he groaned. He swelled, his fingers digging into my hips as he put me in the spot that felt best for him.
With a guttural cry, he lost himself to me completely.
Best doctor's appointment ever.
Chapter 19
I lay on the bed and panted for breath.
That was quite possibly the hottest sex I'd ever had in my life.
“That was amazing, Dr. Matthews,” I finally gasped. I rolled over to see him grinning at me.
“I didn't know that the doctor thing did it for you,” he teased. “Now I know why you jumped my bones at the clinic.”
I gave his shoulder a gentle push. “You jumped my bones,” I told him.
He laughed and reached for me, apparently ready for another session of jumping.
That's when I heard the unmistakable sound of my front door opening, followed by my mother's voice.
“Hannah? Are you home?”
Jacob and I looked at one another and our eyes got big. My mother was a founding member of the Ladies' Bridge Club. If she saw us together, we'd be toast.
We both scrambled off the bed. I grabbed an old robe hanging off my nightstand and wrapped it around me. Jacob jumped into his underwear and opened my window.
“It looks like it's just her. I don't see your dad in the car,” he whispered. He frowned as he looked around the room at the mess we had made. “My clothes are all wet.”
“He could still be here, so be careful,” I hissed. “You have the scrubs in my kitchen. The kitchen door should still be open.”
Apparently it didn't matter if I locked my doors.
“Should be open?” he asked, not looking thrilled at the prospect of getting stuck outside my house in only his underwear.
“Hannah? Are you upstairs?” My mother's voice echoed up the stairs. She was nearly to my door.
We didn't have time to come up with a better plan.
I motioned to Jacob to go out the window. At least it wasn't raining anymore. He slipped out onto the roof just as my mother threw open my bedroom door.
“There you are. Why was your door locked?” she asked me as if she hadn't just barged into my house, let alone my bedroom, unannounced.
“Because I don't want random people walking into my house,” I said, crossing my arms. “You could have called.”
“I did. You didn't pick up.”
I checked my watch. It couldn't have been more than an hour that I didn't check my phone. Seriously, mother?
“What was so important that you came all the way over here?” I asked, doing my best to keep my thin robe wrapped discreetly around me. I could see the edges of Jacob's wet jeans poking out from underneath my bed. I just hoped my mother didn't look too closely.
“What were you doing? You're all flushed.” She frowned and put the back of her hand on my forehead.
I was having hot, kinky sex, mother, I wanted to say. But I didn't. I didn't feel like dying today.
“Exercising.” It was close to the truth. Jacob did give me a good workout and I would be sore in all the right places later.
“Oh. Well, whatever you're doing is working,” mom said, looking me up and down. “You're practically glowing.”
“Um. Thanks.”
“But, why are you naked?” she asked again, pointedly looking at my thin little robe.
“Because I was just about to shower,” I replied. “I just exercised, got all sweaty, wasn't looking at my phone, and was just about to get in the shower.”
It sounded surprisingly reasonable considering I made it up on the fly.
“Well, I need you to come to the house with me,” my mom said. She fiddled with the purse strap over her shoulder. For a moment, she lost her confidence. “It's your dad.”
The pit of my stomach fell out.
“What happened?” I asked, fear starting to fill my middle.
“It's not a big deal, but he fell this afternoon. He says he's fine, but I don't believe him.” She tugged harder on the purse strap.
Cold washed over me despite the open window and the hot humid air flowing in.
“I'm going to get dressed. Will you step into the hall and tell me more?” I asked my mom.
“Of course.” She readjusted her purse and stepped out into the hallway, keeping the door between us cracked open. I ran around my room looking for clothes that were clean and belonged to me.
With my mom no longer in the room, I turned to the window to see Jacob by his bike pulling up his scrub pants. At least he was dressed now. He looked up and made a question motion. I quickly shook my head and pushed the window down.
“Your dad was working out in the garage. I hadn't heard from him and it was dinner time, so I went to get him. He was on the floor and couldn't get up. He was just so weak.” She paused and took a deep breath. “He says he's just tired and to let him rest
. He didn't want me to bother you, but... I'm worried and I just don't know what to do.”
I swallowed down the cold dread and slipped a soft t-shirt over my head. I gave myself a second to take a deep breath before putting on a smile for my mother.
“I'll help,” I promised, opening my bedroom door. “That's why I'm here.”
“I know, and I'm so glad.” My mom smiled sadly. She shook her head and sniffled, then put on a chipper smile to cover her fear. “Did I see Dr. Matthews bike under your tree? It's a good spot to keep it out of the rain.”
“Uh....” Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Come up with a reasonable explanation, Hannah.... “He's, uh, he's here helping me with something. Outside.”
“He's such a gentleman,” my mother replied. “Always helping everyone.”
“Yeah. That's it.” I forced a smile. “I'm going to go let him know I'm leaving.” I was already halfway down the stairs. How did my mother see his bike? Was her x-ray vision from my childhood still intact?
I sprinted out the unlocked front door.
“Jacob, she knows you're here,” I whispered as loud as I dared, running toward the tree. I found him under the tree with sex hair and despite the fact that my mother wasn't far behind me, all I could think about was jumping his bones again.
“How much did she see?” he asked, pinking slightly in his cheeks.
“Just your bike here,” I replied. “I told her you were helping me.”
He nodded.
“Oh, hello Mrs. O’Leary.” Jacob smiled at the person behind me. It was his disarming, oh-so-charming smile that he used to use on teachers he wanted to get out of trouble with and girls he wanted to impress. “It's lovely to see you.”
“Dr. Matthews, it's always a pleasure,” my mom replied, blushing slightly. His smile could charm old ladies, that's for sure. And young ladies, too. “What are you helping Hannah with?”
“She thought there might be a raccoon in the tree out here.” He was a smooth liar. That was far better than anything I had in mind for why he was out under a tree.
“Really?” She turned to me and gave me a gentle swat on the arm. “You didn't say anything. You know your dad is always happy to help with that kind of stuff.”
“I, uh, I didn't want to bother him,” I replied. That's when I noticed that Jacob didn't have shoes on. He was barefoot in the dirt. I sent a silent plea up to the universe that my mother wouldn't notice. “So, Jacob. I mean, Dr. Matthews. I mean, Jacob. I need to go help my mom. Are you good here on your own?”
“You know the way to get rid of raccoons is to play talk radio at them all day and night. They can't stand the stuff. To be honest, neither can I. I would move out of someone's chimney if an angry man was yelling politics at me all night, too,” my mom said, not moving. She looked up at the tree and frowned. “I don't know if that would work outside, though.”
“I actually don't think there are raccoons,” Jacob replied. “Maybe just a squirrel. Or a bird.”
We made eye contact and he shrugged. I stifled an inappropriate laugh. Apparently there were squirrels in my tree. And birds. I felt so obvious that I was sure my mother would see right through both of us.
“A squirrel would be easier to deal with,” my mother agreed.
“Mom, we should go.” I tugged gently on her arm. I was afraid she would notice that Dr. Matthews wasn't wearing shoes. Or that he had sex hair and a twinkle in his eye that would give us both away. My mom always figured out my secrets. The last thing I wanted was for her to get close to this one.
“Right.” My mom flashed Jacob another smile. “Thanks for helping out my Hannah. Have a good evening, Dr. Matthews.”
“Bye, Dr. Matthews,” I chimed in, guiding her toward her car.
“Bye, Mrs. O’Leary. Bye, Hannah.” He leaned against his bike with a confident smirk that made me want to shake my head.
We had gotten so close to being discovered and somehow managed to escape notice. My stomach was twisting with fear of getting caught and the news that my dad needed me.
I made sure my mom got in her car and backed out before starting my engine. Jacob gave me one last wave as I left the man I was sleeping with to follow my mother back home.
Chapter 20
“Hey, Dad,” I said softly, coming up behind him.
He sat dozing in his easy chair in front of the TV. The news was on low, but he wasn't paying attention to the day's stock market prices. He snored slightly and then shook himself awake.
“Hannah.” He smiled a little, then frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you,” I told him, coming around and kneeling in front of his chair. I set my first aide kit on the floor next to me.
He looked pale, and when I put my hand on his, he felt clammy. Despite the air conditioning going in the house he was sweating, but had a blanket across his lap. I didn't like the slight wheeze in his voice when he spoke, either.
“I'm fine,” he assured me. “I just need some rest.”
“Mom told me you fell today,” I replied.
“I just got light headed. It's all those damn medications and the damn humidity right now,” he grumbled. “I just need some rest is all. I'm fine.”
“Okay. You rest, and I'll check you out.” I
He narrowed his eyes at me, and I thought he was going to protest. He opened his mouth and then just sighed. “Fine.”
It was a bad sign. My father was too tired to argue with me. This was a man that loved to talk politics, religion, farming techniques, and guns. The fact that he put up no resistance made my internal alarms go off.
He opened his mouth to say something, but instead of words just coughed. It sounded wet and heavy. He struggled to take a deep breath and for a moment, I was worried he'd stop breathing entirely. No wonder he was exhausted if just breathing took that much energy.
I opened my kit and pulled out my things to do a full nursing assessment. I had a blood pressure cuff, a thermometer, stethoscope, bandages, ace wraps, and all sorts of various creams in my kit. It seemed that once people found out I was a nurse, they always wanted me to check their blood pressure or look at a cut to see if it was infected.
I did a full nursing assessment on my father and didn't like the results.
He had several abrasions on the palms of his hands from catching himself in the fall, as well as a small bump on his head. They were minor, so I wasn't too worried about them. His heart rate was too fast and he had a low grade fever, but the most concerning thing I found were his lung sounds.
Every breath crackled and wheezed. Add in his weakness and loss of energy, I was fairly confident he had pneumonia again.
I hated the way my chest tightened around my heart. We'd found his cancer because of pneumonia. It was the reason he'd gone to the clinic two years ago and they'd seen concerning shadows in his lungs. It was the first test in a long line of doctor appointments, specialist appointments, and chemo and radiation treatments.
And now he had it again.
Dad had dozed off while I listened to his lungs, and I let him stay there, sitting upright in his chair to go talk to my mother. Mom stood in the kitchen, watching me carefully. Her mouth was a thin line and her arms crossed.
“So?” she asked as I walked over.
“I think he's got pneumonia,” I said softly.
She blinked back sudden tears, but none fell. I knew that this was perhaps the hardest on her. This man was her everything. They'd married at eighteen, had one daughter after years of trying, and had been through everything together.
“What do we do?” she asked me, her eyes going to the easy chair.
“I'm going to call Dr. Matthews and have him meet us at the clinic. We need to do a chest x-ray to make sure it is pneumonia. If it is, he'll write a prescription for antibiotics. We'll do a breathing treatment in the office, and that will make him feel a lot better.”
My mother nodded, taking in a deep breath. She stoically lifted her chin up and squared her shou
lders. My mother was a strong woman.
“Okay. I'll get the car.” She uncrossed her arms and hurried to her purse. I saw her quickly wipe at her eyes as she went to the garage. I called Jacob and told him what I suspected. He promised to meet me at the clinic immediately.
I closed my eyes and took a breath in. This wasn't easy for me. This wasn't just another patient. This was my father. This was the man that danced with me at every cousin's wedding because I didn't have a date. This was the man that taught me how to change a tire and catch a fish. This man loved me and I adored him.
I went and gently touched his arm. “Dad? Time to wake up. Dr. Matthews needs to see you.”
He snorted as he slowly woke. “I just want to sleep,” he mumbled.
“I know, but you don't want to disappoint Dr. Matthews,” I said, pulling on his arm.
He sighed, but got up. “My shoes are by the door.”
I held his arm, surprised at the amount of weight he rested on me. He struggled with his steps, his body obviously exhausted. I helped him to the door and we slid on a pair of slippers rather than dealing with shoes. Mom waited outside for us, the car door open and ready for him.
Dad slept on the way to the clinic. Mom and I tried some light easy conversation for a few minutes, but neither one of us was really interested in actually talking. She put on the radio to an oldies station and we drove without saying anything.
Dr. Jacob was waiting outside the clinic when we arrived. He'd kept on the scrubs from earlier, but had smoothed his hair and wore shoes now. I felt better just seeing him.
“Good evening, Mr. O’Leary,” Jacob greeted my father. He helped my father stand from the car. Jacob took most of his weight, supporting my father even when his legs gave out. My father was weaker than I had thought.
My mother and I followed behind the two men into the clinic. My mother kept a calm face, but she alternated between twisting her wedding ring around on her finger and tugging on her purse strap. She was far more nervous than she was letting on, too.
Inside, Dr. Matthews set my father up at the x-ray machine. My father struggled to keep upright as the machine buzzed. I could hear his labored breathing and my own lungs tried to compensate for him.