Read alsoSubmersibles and Their Use in Oceanography and Ocean Engineering
Submersibles and Their Use in Oceanography and Ocean Engineering
“I did say my method was unorthodox.” Dr. Washington stood and crossed the room. The door locked with a metallic click. When he turned back around to look at me, he was smiling. In a few steps he crossed the room and leaned over my bed.
“What are you doing?” I asked, slightly nervous as the doctor’s face hovered inches from mine. Up close I could see every fine line on his face, and his thick brown hair was peppered with a few grey strands. His green eyes, now staring deeply into mine, were flecked with amber. He kept creeping closer, until my field of vision was filled by him, until I could feel his breath tickle my skin, until I could smell him – clean and soapy.
Until I could feel his lips on mine.
A tiny voice in my head screamed at me to pull back. Even without my memories I knew there was something wrong with a doctor kissing a patient. Something very dangerously wrong. Perhaps it was that wrongness that drew me, perhaps it was the spark that flew between us when we kissed – I’m not sure. All I know is that my fingers were laced in his hair, pulling the doctor deeper into me. His touch was an exhilarating rush that filled me with a hungry drive for more.
But Dr. Washington broke free of my grasp. “Anything yet?”
“No,” I said. If anything, my mind was less functional, but I wasn’t about to admit that. “But I wouldn’t mind trying again.”
Dr. Washington chuckled. “Why don’t I increase your treatment?” He kissed me again, harder this time. His tongue flicked around the inside of my mouth, exploring. I moaned and responded to him – at least my body was remembering what my mind couldn’t. I pushed back against him and entwined with him in an intricate dance led only by my instincts. My hands were running through his hair, feeling the short yet thick brush. Dr. Washington’s hands were also roving - down my bare neck with an unfamiliar tingle that made me shiver. His fingers played along the flimsy string holding my hospital gown together, and soon tugged the bow undone. His other hand was at my collar, pulling the garment off with ease.
The doctor’s mouth broke free of mine and he looked down at me. His hand was just barely grazing my breast. I could see a question forming on his lips, but interrupted him. “Just keep going.” His brow quirked almost imperceptibly but soon gave way to a lopsided smirk.
“I’d be a terrible doctor if I didn’t do everything I could to bring your memories back.”