{"id":3129,"date":"2017-12-03T17:35:38","date_gmt":"2017-12-03T17:35:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/?p=3129"},"modified":"2023-02-14T21:25:16","modified_gmt":"2023-02-15T02:25:16","slug":"doctor-patient-confidentiality-chapter-thirty-nine","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/doctor-patient-confidentiality-chapter-thirty-nine\/","title":{"rendered":"Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter Thirty-Nine"},"content":{"rendered":"

He leads me through the long hallway, stopping a few times to greet a few people and acknowledge waves from several with a nod of his head.<\/span><\/p>\n

I can’t help but notice several women stare at him as we walk by, their eyes roaming over him seductively in an obvious show of lust and wanting. Their looks are admiring and appraising\u2026until their attention shifts to me.<\/span><\/p>\n

Their eyes grace me with scowls and glares, as if they’d like nothing more than for me to shrivel up and disappear into thin air.<\/span><\/p>\n

I swear, if eyes could kill, I’d have died, resurrected, died and resurrected, and died again at least twenty times over in under five minutes.<\/span><\/p>\n

I really don’t get it. They have no reason whatsoever to glare or be mad at me. I’m \u043d\u0435\u0442 <\/em>his woman. This is just a misunderstanding.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Okay, it\u2019s a \u043e\u0433\u0440\u043e\u043c\u043d\u044b\u0439 <\/em>misunderstanding, but it\u2019s not at all what it looks like\u2014although I have to admit the whole thing does appear pretty compromising, and unfortunately, in the real world, appearances are everything.<\/span><\/p>\n

I guess I can\u2019t really blame them for believing otherwise. Heck, I\u2019d<\/em> probably be thinking the same thing if I was an outsider looking in.<\/span><\/p>\n

But all the same, what the hell are they mad at me for? It’s not like he’s available either way. He’s got a wife. Surely they know that. Or maybe they just don’t care?<\/span><\/p>\n

Somehow, a lot of the women here strike me that way, and the Rainbow girls are obviously here to do their jobs and make money, and I’m pretty sure Mindy doesn’t care whether her money is coming from single or married men, just as long as it\u2019s coming.<\/span><\/p>\n

Dr. Frost doesn’t seem to notice the women giving me stink looks and death glares. He continues to lead me throughout the vast mansion, and I just follow in silence, feeling incredibly timid, like a shy, introverted child on her first day at school.<\/span><\/p>\n

God, this is so damn uncomfortable. I don’t even know how I’m going to get through the rest of this night after this.<\/span><\/p>\n

We finally make our way outside through a pair of large floor-to-ceiling French doors, and I brace myself for the storm I know is about to come.<\/span><\/p>\n

We walk down a circular stairwell and pass by a group of people gathered by the most beautiful waterfall monument I’ve ever seen.<\/span><\/p>\n

What the hell is up with this place and all its damn stairs?<\/span><\/p>\n

My feet throb as if they’re literally on fire, the shoe straps mercilessly digging into my inflamed and probably swollen skin now.<\/span><\/p>\n

I try to ignore the pain as we continue to descend the steps, and as I get to the last one, I miscalculate and stop just short of it, leading me to stumble.<\/span><\/p>\n

My ankle wobbles and gives, forcing me to lose my balance, and the treacherous shoes once again cause my demise. My hands flail out on reflex once more, and I can’t believe this is seriously happening again.<\/span><\/p>\n

I hate these shoes for real! I hate Nicole for ever suggesting that I wear them, and most of all, I hate myself <\/em>for agreeing to.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Woah, easy there,” Frost says, his voice deep and commanding.<\/span><\/p>\n

I feel both his hands grab at my waist, holding me from behind and breaking my fall once more. I really feel like Humpty-Dumpty tonight. This is so embarrassing I want to crawl into one of the holes in this magnificent green lawn and die. Why do these things always have to happen to me? Was once really not enough? I seriously had to have an encore?<\/span><\/p>\n

I can only imagine how ridiculous he thinks I am. Heck, \u044f<\/em> think I’m ridiculous! I’m positive I at least look like I am.<\/span><\/p>\n

Christ, shoot me now.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Before I know what’s happening, I’m being hoisted into the air and effortlessly hauled over his shoulder.<\/span><\/p>\n

Instantly, I feel the bottom of my dress ride dangerously high up my thighs, and I seriously think I’m going to die right now.<\/span><\/p>\n

I try in vain to get him to put me down as I look behind him frantically, my eyes and head darting left and right in hopes that no one can see me being hoisted like this and potentially flashing my ass to any onlookers. Thankfully, most people are too preoccupied in their own conversations and banter to notice.<\/span><\/p>\n

I feel like screaming at him, but that would be counter-productive and defeat the purpose. It’ll only bring me the kind of attention that I don’t want.<\/span><\/p>\n

I shriek at his actions, struggling against him as he calmly carries me over to a bench by yet another fountain.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Put me down!” I squeal, trying to push myself off him and getting a generous feel of his broad shoulders in the process.<\/span><\/p>\n

Even beneath the crisp suit he’s wearing, he feels so hard and firm and incredibly delicious. Despite my verbal protests, my hands smile at the treat they’re getting, and as ashamed as I am to admit it, they want even more of him, more of his toned, strong body.<\/span><\/p>\n

He finally sets me down on the bench, gently lowering my body onto the granite finish.<\/span><\/p>\n

The smooth, stone surface feels super cold against my thighs, sending ice-cold shock waves through my lower body. I jump at the contact, but he keeps me in place easily, practically barricading my body to the seat with his own.<\/span><\/p>\n

I grab at the hem of my skirt, pulling at it furiously as my neck and cheeks burn to oblivion at the thought that he just saw my underwear.<\/span><\/p>\n

I struggle to shield my unmentionables from his gaze while I battle the surge of embarrassment and humiliation coursing throughout my body.<\/span><\/p>\n

He lowers himself to the ground, his big body collecting below me in a stoop and he immediately goes for my shoes.<\/span><\/p>\n

He looks incredibly focused, as if he has a one-track mind. He takes my left foot first, gently holding my ankle in his hands as he undoes the straps and buckles.<\/span><\/p>\n

He takes his time, even though I can see that he’s having a bit of trouble with the array of straps and buckles on it, and it seems to be frustrating him. I almost laugh. He probably hates the shoes almost as much as I do. Almost<\/em>.<\/span><\/p>\n

After a bit of fussing around with them, the shoes finally slide off and my feet are free after what seems like an eternity. My blood rushes through them and they throb incessantly from being previously constricted and under so much pressure.<\/span><\/p>\n

I can’t stop the pleasure groan that erupts from deep within my throat. My eyes flutter closed in the way they typically do when I’m experiencing a great deal of relief.<\/span><\/p>\n

For a split second, a small part of my mind absently thinks of the fact that even the damn exterior benches in this mansion are made of expensive granite. Whoever this birthday boy is, he\u2019s even more loaded than I could have imagined, and Frost is obviously friends with him.<\/span><\/p>\n

For some reason, that rings kind of strange to me.<\/span><\/p>\n

I know Dr. Frost is renowned in his professional circle, but I never realized he was in with the super wealthy crowd. I guess he’s even more elusive than I originally thought.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I open my eyes again, I see Frost staring straight at me, his hands gently rubbing and massaging the stiffness and achiness in my feet and toes.<\/span><\/p>\n

He goes over all of them, giving special attention to my little toes. It hurts quite a bit at first, and I reflexively move to stop him, grabbing at his large hand, but he keeps going, until the pain subsides significantly. It doesn’t take long for my feet to feel normal again. He seriously has magical hands and healing fingers. I think he knows that.<\/span><\/p>\n

I watch him grin at my expression of content. I sigh at the feeling of release he’s giving me, and for several moments, I can’t think of anything to say, so I just stay quiet and enjoy having my feet pampered back to life. At least until I realize what the hell I’m doing and who the hell is doing it to me.<\/span><\/p>\n

Impulsively, I move my feet out of his grasp, bringing them back toward my body as panic and reality invades my little moment and bursts my little bubble of momentary relief.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I-I’m sorry,” I say.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wait, what the fuck? Why am I apologizing? \u041e\u043d<\/em> the one who hoisted me and carried me around like I was a bag of potatoes. \u041e\u043d<\/em> the one who brought me out here as if he’s the boss of me.<\/span><\/p>\n

Although\u2026I suppose that isn’t entirely <\/em>true.<\/span><\/p>\n

I could have interjected at any moment and I didn’t, but only <\/em>because I didn’t want to draw any attention to us or the fact that we know each other. But in the end, I guess I did <\/em>consent to coming out here with him, even if it was by default and not so much by my own choice.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I need to get back inside,” I say, standing up abruptly.<\/span><\/p>\n

The grass is incredibly cool underneath my feet, and the tiny, wispy blades slightly tickle me.<\/span><\/p>\n

“To do what<\/em>, exactly?” he asks, his expression almost incredulous.<\/span><\/p>\n

I immediately frown. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was accusing me of something. And I don’t like how presumptuous his tone sounds. Not. One. Bit.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I don’t recall that being any of your business,” I answer sternly, feeling irritated by his seemingly judgmental attitude. He has no right to question me about anything. “What I do is none of your concern.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Is that so?” he challenges, standing as well and moving closer to me. He looks at me squarely, his intense eyes boring into mine as he says, “Well, that\u2019s where you\u2019re wrong, my dear. What you do is definitely <\/em>my concern.”<\/span><\/p>\n

***<\/span><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

He leads me through the long hallway, stopping a few times to greet a few people and acknowledge waves from several with a nod of his head. I can’t help but notice several women stare at him as we walk by, their eyes roaming over him seductively in an obvious show of lust and wanting. Their looks are admiring and appraising\u2026until their attention shifts to me. Their eyes grace me with scowls and glares, as if they’d like nothing more than for me to shrivel up and disappear into thin… \u0427\u0438\u0442\u0430\u0442\u044c \u0434\u0430\u043b\u0435\u0435<\/a><\/span><\/p>","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":2990,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_bbp_topic_count":0,"_bbp_reply_count":0,"_bbp_total_topic_count":0,"_bbp_total_reply_count":0,"_bbp_voice_count":0,"_bbp_anonymous_reply_count":0,"_bbp_forum_subforum_count":0,"_themeisle_gutenberg_block_has_review":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[96],"tags":[],"series":[99],"class_list":["post-3129","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-contemporary-2","series-doctor-patient-confidentiality"],"featured_image_src":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/DPC-Wattpad-Header-1024x341.jpg","blog_images":{"medium":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/DPC-Wattpad-Header-300x100.jpg","large":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/DPC-Wattpad-Header-1024x341.jpg"},"ams_acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3129","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3129"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3129\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2990"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3129"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3129"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3129"},{"taxonomy":"series","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/emendedhearts.com\/ru\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/series?post=3129"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}