Page 104 of Darling Venom
I’m horny, I wanted to scream.
“I’m shy,” I said instead.
“You have no reason to be. Would you like to start with the pelvic exam? It may put you at ease. You might feel a bit of discomfort, but that’s all it will amount to.”
“Okay.” I nodded, my knees still pressed together.
I thought I was feigning innocence pretty well, considering only fifteen percent of my brain was occupied by the fact that Tate was going to see my vagina up-close. The other eighty-five percent was panicking about coming on his exam table.
Was that considered sexually harassing him?
Tate waited patiently.
Finally, I dropped my knees apart and opened up for him. I stared at him staring at my pussy. Swallowed.
A look crossed Tate’s face, but I couldn’t identify it. I was neither well-versed in gynecological exams nor men. But he was doing such a damn good job of staying professional that if he told me I didn’t affect him, I’d believe him.
“I’m going to touch you now.”
I nodded, feeling his fingers through the rubber gloves as he pried my pussy lips open. He sucked in a breath.
Or maybe it was his normal breathing.
Everything felt and sounded heightened right now.
I couldn’t not look at him. Again, I found myself using every ounce of self-control to think about things that were not him taking me on the exam table.
“How does it feel?” he murmured.
“Good.”
We both paused, letting what I’d said sink in.
I flushed, blurting out, “I mean, it doesn’t hurt or anything.”
His gray-blues met my greens. His throat bobbed. Goosebumps rose on my skin. I struggled to keep my eyes open. Drunk with need.
I found myself raising my hips, chasing his touch.
Tate stared between my legs. “I can’t perform a bimanual exam because it might damage your hymen, so I’m going to move straight to the Pap smear.”
“What’s a bimanual exam?”
“It’s when I push two fingers inside you to check the size, shape, and position of your uterus and screen for cystic ovarian masses or tumors.”
“Sounds important.” My voice was thick. All I could think about was Tate sticking two of those long, strong fingers into me. I’d officially lost my mind. “Are we sure we want to skip this part?”
“I am sure I want to not-tear your hymen and get sued, yes,” Tate said drily.
Still the same asshole I knew and liked.
“I won’t sue you.”
He chuckled. “I’ll need that in writing.”
He was joking, but I was dead serious.
I picked up my phone and shot him a quick email, confirming I’d asked for a bimanual exam and explaining I understood the consequences. Luckily, I had the clinic’s email from the time I’d booked the appointment for Reagan.
