"No, your hands are perfect," I blurt out without thinking. I think I detect a slight smirk on his face before I revert my gaze to the poster on the ceiling.
"The poster." I gesture upward with my free hand. It strikes me funny that there's a motivational poster on the ceiling. Like that's gonna take my mind off where I'm at. Or is it meant to motivate me to stay on this table? I giggle again. Luke tilts his head and looks at the ceiling.
Shit, are my nipples hard? That's normal, right? He's not doing anything erotic, but his hands are on my breasts. Yeah, my nipples are hard. His fingers are flat against the sides of my breasts now. He's rotating them around in what feels like a spiral pattern before lightly pinching my nipple. I have to stop myself from moaning a little. His hands feel good. I'm sure they're not supposed to, but they do. Luke slips the paper gown back over me before moving around the table to repeat the process.
I should probably stop thinking of him as Luke and start thinking of him as Dr. Miller. I stifle another giggle. I thought he was a banker or a lawyer in his expensive suits and trendy ties. Freaking gynecologist. Not one of my Luke fantasies ended like this. Yet, maybe they should have. I’m oddly turned on right now.
Chief of obstetrics, Marie said. Which would make him a surgeon, I think. So I wasn't wrong about him being good with his hands. I think about how many times I've masturbated pretending it was Luke touching me and I feel a rush of heat between my legs. Wrong. This is so wrong. Who gets aroused during a doctor appointment?
Luke is snapping plastic gloves onto those perfect hands. They're dark blue, which catches my attention. Aren't medical gloves always white on TV shows? Why am I thinking about this now?
"Sophie, I need you to slide to the end of the table and place your feet in the stirrups."
I glance over at Marie. Her nose is still stuck in Good Housekeeping. I scoot to the end of the table and wonder if I'm wet enough for him to notice. Is there a normal amount of wet for this situation?
"A little more, all the way to the edge. That's good."
My heart is racing now. He may be hot, but this is beyond awkward. I place my feet in the stirrups and lie back. My hands are clasped below my chest and I start twisting my fingers. It's too quiet in this room.
"So you're the chief of something? At the hospital? The nurse mentioned you're only here on Tuesday mornings."
He pauses. "Yes. Chief of obstetrics."
"So you do surgery and stuff? When you're not volunteering at the free clinic?"
"Yes, Sophie. I do surgery and stuff." He slides up to the end of the table on a rolling stool. "You're going to feel my hand on the inside of your thigh."
He adjusts the light attached to the end of the table and flips it on. Jesus, there's a light? The fluorescent lights in this room aren't enough?
"Relax. I'm just checking externally first." I feel his fingers on me, his touch gentle.
How many times have I imagined his head in a similar position? This is so awkward. Focus on this sterile room, Soph. Do not embarrass yourself.
"So you just like college students or something? So you volunteer?" Oh, shit. I think I just accused him of being some kind of creep.
I feel him pause. On my vagina. Because he's touching my vagina as I accuse him of being into examining college girls. Help me.
"My family donated this clinic years ago, long before your college days, Miss Tisdale. My great-grandfather was a physician and he believed in giving back, donating his time to help when he could. I donate a few hours a week in his honor.”