Chapter 7: Worth the Wait

The cramp hit me twice on Monday, and both times I texted him instead.

Ezra answered each one within a minute.

Breathe out. Hand on your stomach. I've got you.

I stood in a supply closet with my palm pressed to my belly and my eyes shut, and I did exactly that.

It passed.

I did not use the toy once.

On Tuesday night I walked into Room 3 and he was already there, sitting on the stool with his arms folded.

He studied me.

"Two days," he said. "No slips."

"None."

"Come here."

I crossed the room. He put a hand under my chin and tilted my face up.

"Proud of you," he said quietly.

I had waited my whole life for this man to say something like that to me.

My eyes stung. I swallowed it down.

"What do I get for being good?"

His mouth moved. "Careful."

"You said to make it worth the wait."

"I said it on Sunday," I said. "And you said you would."

He looked at me for a moment.

Then he took my hips in both hands and set me on the exam table.

It was the same table, with the same crinkly paper.

I felt the heat of him through my scrub pants.

"Take them off," he said. "All of it."

I stripped from the waist down while he watched.

"Lie back. Put your heels on the edge."

I did.

He pulled the stool in and sat. His face was level with my knees, and the lamp showed him everything.

"Look at you," he said, under his breath.

He spread my knees wider with his thumbs.

"You said your clit gets so sensitive it hurts."

"Yes."

"Then we'll find out what makes it stop hurting."

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