Attached to the gift was a card. I quickly opened it.
Precious,
It would seem that your services are needed at the hospital. Inside the box, you’ll find your new uniform. Once you’ve put it on, please come to Mr. Parker’s playroom (a.k.a. the hospital) so you can perform your duties as the naughty nurse.
Once again, I felt that giddy feeling erupt in my belly. The thought of more role playing with Mr. Snowden and Mr. Parker was just what…well, it was just what the doctor ordered.
I laughed out loud at my own joke as I ripped into the box to find what was quite possibly the sexiest nurse’s uniform I’d ever seen. It was white and there really wasn’t much to it, but I was excited about the prospect of wearing it.
Grabbing the few items, I hurried to the bathroom, stripped out of my office attire, and donned the naughty nurse outfit. Since Mr. Snowden hadn’t supplied shoes, I grabbed a pair from my closet. They were high-heeled and definitely not anything a real nurse would wear if she had to be on her feet all day.
After brushing my hair and pulling it back into a ponytail, I brushed my teeth and touched up my makeup before heading over to Mr. Parker’s.
I was no longer shy about walking into his apartment without knocking. Since I spent plenty of evenings having dinner with them there, it had become routine.
When I stepped inside, my belly fluttered with excitement. And when I walked into the playroom, I was practically buzzing with excitement.
Mr. Parker was standing near a short counter with a clipboard in his hand.
“Oh, good. I’m glad you could make it,” he said to me. “I’m going to need you to take the patient’s vitals while I take care of another patient down the hall.”
I briefly wondered if there really was another patient. Then I figured that was silly. Where would they be?
“Of course, Dr. Parker,” I said politely, taking the clipboard when he handed it to me.
I started for the curtained-off room, but Mr. Parker pulled me up short when he cleared his throat.
“You might need this,” he said when I glanced back at him.
He was holding out a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff.
Okay, so he was serious about the vitals then. I didn’t bother to tell him I had no idea how to use either. Instead, I took them from his hand and smiled again.
When I pulled back the curtain, I found Mr. Snowden lying on a table wearing only his slacks. My eyes instantly roamed his chest, his abs, his arms. He truly was one of the sexiest men I’d ever laid eyes on.
I glanced down at the clipboard. Since the paper had nothing written on it, it didn’t do me much good.
“Good evening, Mr. Snowden,” I greeted as I placed the blood pressure cuff, the clipboard, and the stethoscope on the small metal tray standing beside the bed. “How’re you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” he said, his eyes locked on me.
I wasn’t sure exactly how this was supposed to play out, but I suspected I was going to get to do something deliciously indecent to our fake patient.
“And what seems to be the problem?” I asked as I picked up the blood pressure cuff and placed it around his bicep.
“I don’t know. Just not feeling right.”
Not sure what I was doing and fearful I was going to hurt him, I only pumped the cuff a few times, causing it to expand. I then put the rubber tipped ends of the stethoscope in my ears and proceeded to listen for his heartbeat. I heard nothing and part of me was grateful for nurses. I was doing a horrible imitation of one, and I couldn’t even imagine all the stuff they had to learn to be effective.
Once I was finished pretending to get his blood pressure, I removed the blood pressure cuff but kept the stethoscope in my ears. I took the listening end and placed it on Mr. Snowden’s belly. His eyes never left my face.
“Does something specific hurt?” I asked.
“It does now,” he said, a gleam in his eyes that spoke of wicked, dirty things.
Again, I had no earthly idea what I was doing, but I figured I could bide some time until Mr. Parker returned.
I knew I shouldn’t ask, but I did anyway. “And what is bothering you now?”
Before he could answer, Mr. Parker appeared, pulling the curtain back. He held one of those thermometers that runs across the forehead in his hands. He glanced at me, a peculiar look in his eyes. As though he was trying to figure out what I was doing with the stethoscope.
I grinned and pulled it out of my ears. “Sorry, Doctor.”
“Please take his temperature, nurse.” He passed over the thermometer.
I prayed he wasn’t really wanting me to do it accurately because I’d never used one of those things before. Still, I glanced at it, punched a button, then ran it over Mr. Snowden’s forehead. It came back with a reading of ninety-eight point six. Sounded healthy to me.
