Modern Wicked Fairy Tales: Complete Collection (20 page)

Matt opened one eye and grinned. “I told you it was
addictive.”

“But amusing,” she contested, starting the level
again.

“An irresistible combination.”

“So do you own a hotel on the island or something?”
Rose asked, making small talk as she continued playing on her seat
mate’s tablet.

He didn’t open his eyes. “I’m a doctor.”

“Oh well that makes sense.” She glanced up as someone
stepped over Matt’s feet in the aisle, making their way to a seat.
“They need doctors everywhere. Why not choose a tropical island to
practice on?”

“Would you tell that to my mother?” Matt straightened
up as more people began to filter onto the plane. “She thinks I
should be practicing back in New York.”

Rose smiled. “Parents always think they know
best.”

“What do your parents think you should do for a
living?”

“My father wanted me to be a doctor, but I became a
first-grade teacher instead,” she told him. “My mother? She just
wants me to marry a doctor.”

“Ha! My mother keeps telling me I’ll understand when
I have children of my own.” He shrugged, folding his arms over his
chest and looking over her shoulder as she played the game.

“Pushing for grandkids, is she?”

“Putting the cart before the horse, as usual. I need
a wife first.” He pointed at the screen. “Try a lower angle for
this one. And don’t pull back so far.”

“Thanks.” Rose did as he instructed, killing off a
whole building full of evil green pigs and feeling quite proud of
herself. “You could always adopt kids if you really wanted
them.”

“Nah.” He shrugged. “I’m an old-fashioned kind of
guy.”

Rose looked across the aisle,
noticing a young couple sitting together, holding hands and
smiling.
Honeymoon,
she thought, a twinge of pain tightening her chest.

“You all right?”

She blinked at her seat mate, lying again.
“Fine.”

“You sure about that?” He glanced over at the happy
couple and back at her.

“Oh, well… I guess I’m a little nervous.” She
gestured around the plane. “About the flight.”

He waved her concern away. “I promise you, these
little puddle jumpers are safer than the big commercial airplanes.
And these pilots could land a plane on the edge of a dime if they
had to.”

“Well that’s good to know.” She tried to smile, tried
not to notice the couple across the way leaning in to kiss.

“Miss, could you please put that away while we take
off?” the flight attendant asked, moving on before Rose could
respond.

She handed the tablet back to Matt. “Thanks for
letting me play.”

“See, I told you they’d make us turn them off,” he
muttered, taking it from her. “Oh hey, that’s a nasty scar.”

Rose pulled her hand back quickly, hiding her scar
under the edge of her long-sleeved blouse. She wore them all the
time now, even in the Florida heat.

“Excuse me.” She stood, not looking at him. “I’m
going to use the rest room before we take off.”

He stood to let her pass, not saying anything. When
she’d splashed water on her face and inspected her eyes to make
sure it didn’t look like she’d been crying, she made her way back
to her seat to find him stretched out again, eyes closed.
Definitely asleep.

Instead of disturbing him—that’s what she told
herself, it didn’t have to do anything with not wanting to face him
again—she asked the flight attendant if she could sit in an empty
seat up near the front and thankfully, the woman obliged.

Settled alone by the window, Rose watched the land
below her disappear, wondering what she was getting herself into.
Poppy had assured and reassured her, had shown her brochures and
emailed her testimony from other clients whose lives had been
changed at this treatment center.

She hadn’t told Poppy or her parents, but this was
it. It was her last-ditch effort to figure out what was wrong with
her, to see if anyone could fix the thing in her that was broken.
If they couldn’t… well, she’d already experienced the heartache of
losing Sam. She didn’t think she could ever risk something like
that again in her lifetime.

* * * *

This can’t be happening.

Rose had asked to be seen by another
physician when she’d seen him through the little check-in
window—
oh my god it’s the guy from the
plane!
—flipping through charts and chatting
with the nurses. There was no way she could possibly strip naked in
front of him. She’d avoided his gaze after they landed, barely
acknowledging his wave and smile from the other end of the plane as
everyone filed down the little aisle. Thankfully he’d been forced
off first and Rose had gathered her stuff and spent a good ten
minutes in the airplane bathroom—long enough for the flight
attendant to knock and check on her—before getting off the plane
herself. By then he’d been gone, and she’d been so
relieved.

She should have known, when he’d
said he was a doctor. But how could she have known he was
the
doctor, the one who
ran the treatment center? His picture or name hadn’t been in any of
the brochures, not that she remembered anyway. And she would have
remembered.

“He’s our only doctor,” the confused red-headed,
freckled receptionist told her. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no.” Rose shook her head, had backed away from
the window, thinking of bolting out the glass doors. But where
would she go? She’d already checked into her room at the facility,
been given the tour, gone through a two-hour orientation and eaten
lunch with several of the other clients. The physical examination
was part of the process. She couldn’t avoid it forever.

And it turned out that he had been quite kind. Of
course, he had. He was witty and charming, acknowledging their
chance meeting on the plane, trying to put her at ease. It was just
impossible to feel comfortable while she was naked except for her
little paper gown, answering “Dr. Matt’s” intimate questions and
trying not to choke on her answers.

“So you’ve never experienced an orgasm?” Dr. Matt
chewed thoughtfully on the top of his pen and Rose distracted
herself from her own rising, uncomfortable blush by noting how
mangled and twisted the tip was from his constant gnawing. It was a
nervous habit she wouldn’t have expected from a professional, but
somehow it made him seem more human, and for that she was glad.

“I’m not sure.” She could feel the roses blooming in
her cheeks and looked down at the paper dress she wore. It hardly
covered anything, but Dr. Matt didn’t seem to notice or care. He
was a doctor, after all, even if he’d insisted she use his first
name after the title instead of his last, and that meant he might
really be able to help her. She had to tell him the truth. “You
see, I have these dreams…”

Dr. Matt waited patiently for her to
go on, still chewing on his pen. His teeth were very white and very
straight, his eyes dark and watchful. He reminded her so much of
Sam it hurt. Dr. Matt was decidedly handsome, somewhere around her
age, and she found it very difficult to speak about her problem to
a man who looked and sounded far too much like her fiancé.
Ex-fiancé.
Finally, she
went on, feeling the slow burn spreading down from her cheeks to
her neck.

“I think I do… have orgasms…” She swallowed, feeling
the heat filling her chest. “In my dreams.”

“So you’re having nocturnal emissions?” He noted
something on his clipboard, glancing up when she didn’t respond.
“Wet dreams?”

She nodded her assent, not trusting her voice.

“But you’ve never had an orgasm while you’re awake?”
he inquired, cocking his head, a sad sort of sympathy in his eyes
that made her want to either crawl under the table or smack him—she
couldn’t decide which. “Either alone or with a partner?”

“No,” she finally confessed. “Never.”

He nodded, tapping the pen against his straight,
white teeth. “And you’ve tried all the usual methods of
stimulation—fingers, vibrators…?”

Rose closed her eyes, shaking her
head. “I’ve tried
everything
.” She couldn’t even begin
to tell him the things she’d tried, the various implements and
manipulations that had gone on between her thighs over the years in
an attempt to bring her some semblance of pleasure.

“Interesting.” He was writing on his clipboard
again.

“So do you think you can help me?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this.” He
stood, putting his clipboard aside and standing. Rose shrank as he
came toward her, towered over her, far too close for her comfort.
“If that’s really what you want. Is it?”

“I—” She hesitated, meeting his gaze. It was
straightforward and far too knowing. “Of course I do. Why else
would I be here?”

He smiled. “You did read all of the consent forms you
signed, didn’t you?”

“Of course.” Rose squirmed on the table, feeling the
paper beneath her naked bottom crinkle. Her answer wasn’t exactly
true. She’d been tired and the forms were long and involved.

Dr. Matt reached out and took her hand, clasping it
between two of his. His touch was shockingly warm and familiar.
“Rose, we’re not going to get to the bottom of this if you lie to
me.”

She stared at him, mouth agape. “What—?” She couldn’t
help flashing back to the look on Sam’s face when she admitted that
yes, she had lied, she’d been faking her orgasms all along. The
pain of the moment took her breath away.

“No lies.” Dr. Matt’s hands squeezed
hers gently. “Let’s start there, okay?”

Rose felt tears pricking her eyes and blinked them
back. “Okay.”

When she complied with his request to recline onto
the table for the physical exam, Rose realized her aunt had been
right. This place really was different from any other place she had
ever been for treatment, and this Dr. Matt was different as well.
She just didn’t know yet if that was a good thing or a bad
thing.

“I’ve reviewed all your medical records,” he said as
he snapped on a pair of gloves. “Your last pap smear was about six
months ago?”

“Yes.”

“No need to do another one then. I’m just going to
examine you manually.” He stood at the side of the table, smiling
down at her so warmly she could almost feel it. “Can I touch
you?”

She hesitated only a moment. “Okay.”

His hands were warm, even in gloves, sliding under
her paper gown from the side and cupping her right breast, his
fingers and thumb moving over her flesh just like any other
doctor’s, doing a typical breast exam. “Any pain in your
breasts?”

“No.” She met his eyes as he moved to the other
breast. “Well sometimes before my period.”

“That’s normal.” He nodded. “Does it feel good to
have your nipples touched?”

Rose gasped when he tweaked her nipple, nodding.
“Yes.”

“Close your eyes,” he instructed. She obeyed,
although her already high anxiety level rose to even greater
heights when she did. “On a scale of one to ten, one being horrible
and ten being the best thing ever, tell me how good this
feels.”

Dr. Matt rolled her nipple slowly between his thumb
and forefinger, back and forth, as if turning a dial.

“Three,” she managed to squeak out.

“Physically, not emotionally,” he chided.

“Oh.” She smiled, eyes still closed, feeling herself
relax just a little. The sensation increased the moment she did,
sending little sparks down her nerve endings. “Six, I guess.”

“So you do experience pleasure?”

“Oh, yes.” She felt her belly tighten when his other
hand began manipulating her left nipple the same way. “It feels
nice.”

“You can open your eyes.” He was smiling when she
did. “Do you mind if I touch your vagina?”

She made a face at the clinical word but nodded her
head.

“We like to use terms you’re comfortable with,” he
said, interpreting her look. “During sex, what would you call your
genitals?”

“I don’t have a penis.” Rose
giggled. She couldn’t help it. “I’m not a guy. I didn’t
name
it.”

He laughed. “Okay, complete this sentence. ‘I’d like
you to touch my blank.’”

The heat filling her cheeks moved down to her chest,
but she managed to take a deep breath and say the words. “I’d like
you to touch my…pussy.”

“Okay.” He nodded, still smiling his approval. “May I
touch your pussy?”

Rose winced again. Now it had moved from far too
clinical to far too intimate. But what else could she do?

“Yes.”

She closed her eyes without being asked this time,
feeling his fingers parting her lips, sliding two of them inside.
His other hand pressed gently over her belly and he rocked his
hands, checking the position of her uterus. She’d had the
examination often enough to know just what he was doing, but his
next question surprised her.

“Have you ever shaved your pussy?”

“No.” Her eyes flew open to see him looking down
between her legs, where his hand disappeared under her paper skirt.
“Why?”

“It’s been known to increase sensation.”

She got up on her elbows to peer at him.
“Really?”

“I’d like to take a closer look,” he said. “Do you
mind getting up in the stirrups?”

“Okay.”

He helped her put her legs up and
scoot down to the end of the table, the most humiliating position
in the world. She noticed for the first time that there was a
poster on the ceiling, just a little one with a picture of an acorn
and a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson—
what
lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to
what lies within us.

Rose didn’t think whoever had chosen the poster had
really thought about the literal interpretations, but she was
thinking about them as Dr. Matt slid two fingers into her
vagina—pussy—again. It made her want to giggle like she was
twelve-years-old.