Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter Two Hundred and Fifteen

Frost’s words saturate the dining room and my mind, making my heart throttle to full speed. As he sets me on my feet, the world tilts on its axis, and I’m not sure if it’s from the sudden movement or the reality-warping effect he has on me.

He turns to the cart, and I watch, my chest rising and falling rapidly, as he pulls out…a stethoscope?

The sight of it transports me back to our first meeting, when it hung casually around his neck, a symbol of his authority that both intimidated and intrigued me. I remember the cool touch of the metal against my skin, how it made me shiver in a way that had nothing to do with its temperature.

“Take the earpieces,” he instructs, holding out the Y-shaped end. “Use both hands.”

Gingerly, I comply, wrapping my fingers around the cool metal. My hands look small and delicate compared to his, a stark reminder of the physical disparity between us. It’s like comparing a sapling to an ancient oak, and I feel just as easily bent.

“Now, pull,” he commands, grasping the chest piece with one hand.

I frown at the strange request, but act impulsively when he tugs on his end.

Suddenly, we’re engaged in an odd tug of war. Me with both hands, straining against his single, stronger grip. It’s a microcosm of our entire relationship, and the symbolism isn’t lost on me.

Without warning, Frost’s free hand slips between my legs. I gasp, the sudden intimate contact sending a jolt through my body that feels like lightning striking a tree.

“Keep pulling,” he commands when my grip on the ear tips goes slack as I rise on my tip toes. My thighs tremble around his hand, and suddenly, I’m pulling on my end of the stethoscope not because he said to, but to keep my bare ass off his dining room floor.

“Do you remember what I told you last week about the polarity of water?” Frost asks, his voice steady despite his actions.

Of course, this motherfucker would do this to me.