Dr. Clarkson closed his book, set down his pen and cradled his head in his hands. It felt as though he head been at the hospital for days, when it had only been a few hours. Every time he sat down to look at the books or did his rounds with the patients, his mind would wander. Little things triggered his mind to recall the night before.
"Doctor," Isobel called in a husky tone, causing her husband to look up from his book. His eyes suddenly got wide seeing the woman he loved leaning in the doorway, twirling the ties of her robe in a slender pale hand.
"Doctor?" a petite nurse asked after noticing Richard had been staring at the far doorway of the medical hall for minutes on end.
"Oh? Ah, yes. Where were we?" he asked, shaking his head in an attempt to cool his head and his thoughts.
The nurse flipped through the chart, "A Mr... John Hammon, sir,"
They pushed through the dividers, to examine the man on the cot, "Good morning Mr. Hammon," he greeted the man with a curt nod, his professionalism covering up the improper thoughts. "I hear you're having some chest pains?"
"Yes sir,"
"Ah, well let's begin by taking a listen to the culprit shall we?" he leaned into the frail man, pulling his stethoscope to the man's chest. The light danced on the silver tip, and his mind wandered.
His stethoscope hung around her neck, and he followed it length with his eyes to where it ended between her breasts. Those breasts that were now making their presence known as her nipples hardened through the thin, silky fabric of her robe. She crossed slowly to the bed, her hips swaying with each step. When she arrived she took the book from his lap, setting it on the nightstand table. Her cool hands were soon on his face, feeling for a temperature.
"Doctor, you're a bit warm, are you feeling quite all right?" she teased.
The man broke into a fit of coughs and the harsh rumbling sound rang out through the stethoscope, pulling Richard from his daydream.
"Your ticker sounds fine, but I think you could use a spoonful of cough syrup. Nurse, would you see to that?"
"Certainly Doctor,"
He returned the chart to the end of the bed, and continued on his rounds. He peeked through the next divider at a younger farm boy sitting up in his bed. A woman he guessed to be the young man's wife was leaned over the cot to steal a quick kiss. Richard's mind was pulled away and he saw himself in the boy's position.
She leaned in further, letting her sandy blonde waves fall to tickle his face. Her soft lips were on his in seconds and he felt, more than heard, himself sigh into her mouth. His arms came up to pull her closer, and she broke away, pinning his arms to the mattress.
"Richard, are your reflexes acting up?" she joked with a knowing look.
He caught on to her little game, "Why yes, I believe so nurse Crawley. I feel like lately I just can't control my hands," he said, breaking free to run them up her sides.
"Well, perhaps I should check your vitals," her acting was rather impressive, and he began to give into the fantasy she was creating for the two of them. She began unbuttoning his nightshirt, taking the time to plant a kiss on his chest with each button. When the last button was undone, the soft cotton slid off his chest to reveal a patch of graying curls. She kicked a long leg over his waist, straddling him with a knee on either side of his hips before leaning in and setting the cold stethoscope to his chest.
He gave the pair their privacy, making a mental note to return for his daily check-up with the boy later. He returned to his office to retrieve a clipboard for the linen rota. This was almost always the busy-work of a nurse, but Richard knew one idle moment would send him into a frenzy of memories, eventually leading him back to the master bed of Crawley House.
The door of his office was cracked when he came upon it, and he began to wonder if he'd missed an appointment. He walked in to find Isobel turned around in his chair. He the let the door swing shut with a thud to announce his presence. She spun around slowly with a smile on her face, chin held high as always.
"Good Afternoon Richard," she said, standing and going to her open-armed husband.
"Good Afternoon my dearest one," he wrapped his arms around her, planting a kiss to her forehead.
She looked up into his eyes, "How has your day been?" the controlling gene in her was itching to know what had gone on in her absence.
"I haven't been able to get anything done," he put a hand on either side of her face and pressed their lips together, finally feeling a twinge of relief now that they were close.
"Is that so?" she asked with raised eyebrows when they pulled apart.
"Yes, Nurse Crawley..."he took a step back to let his eyes run over her form, "I believe my illness has progressed my dear," he gave her a slight eye roll and smiled knowingly.
"Oh, really?" she ran her hands up his chest, feeling his hard muscles under the soft fabric, "Perhaps a house call later in the evening would do you some good," she leaned back in for a deeper more passionate kiss. He ran his hands down her back to squeeze her bottom lightly, making her squeak into his mouth and swat at his shoulder playfully, "Richard! Please, let's not forget our public manners," She headed for the door, ready to begin her work. "Shall we make our appointment for midnight?"
"Sharp" he called in his thick Scottish accent as she left.
Isobel popped her head back into the doorway and shot her husband a devious smile "I'm never late,"
I hope you enjoyed this and I really hope I wasn't pushing it with a "T" rating! Reviews are always a lovely and well-appreciated gift! Thank you for reading!
