My Campus Doctor's Forbidden Cure - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
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I held my breath without thinking, terrified someone might spot me lying there with my clothes all rumpled.
Ethan's earlier teasing had left my chest damp, and my half-fastened clothes only made the marks stand out more.
Then came the click of the door locking, followed by the sound of the curtain being drawn back again.
"What's wrong?" He caught my discomfort instantly, his voice warm with concern.
Looking up at his stupidly handsome face, I felt heat rush to my cheeks. "Dr. Roscente, could you... maybe step out for a sec? I need to pump some milk, or I'll never survive training..."
He gave a slow nod at my flustered explanation.
Once the curtain swished shut, I froze. This wasn't how I'd planned things. I'd rushed straight from the shower to request leave, thinking it'd be quick—no prep, no supplies.
No container for the milk. And this bed? Brand new. Ruining it would be a disaster.
"Doctor... you wouldn't happen to have a disposable cup?" I called out, wincing at how small my voice sounded.
A beat later, his hand appeared past the curtain, offering a paper cup.
Misjudging the distance, his knuckles grazed against bare skin.
"Ah—" The contact startled a gasp out of me, followed by a thin stream of milk dripping onto his fingers.
The silence that followed was deafening.
I could practically hear Dr. Roscente's breathing grow heavier.
Fumbling to break the tension, I leaned forward with the cup—only to squeeze too hard. A sharp sting made me hiss.
After a loaded pause, his voice cut through the curtain. "Have you had your prolactin levels checked?"
I blinked. "No?"
"Excessive prolactin causes severe lactation. Left untreated, it can lead to amenorrhea... or infertility."
My stomach lurched. "It's... that bad?"
Until now, I'd been too mortified to even mention it, praying it would just stop on its own.
If training hadn't become unbearable, I wouldn't be here. But the gravity in his tone sent panic skittering down my spine.
Before I could process it, he yanked the curtain open. "I have a solution."
His gaze dropped, voice turning low. "Lunch break's almost over. Lose the clothes—it'll be faster."
My pulse hammered, but I swallowed hard, arching to peel off my T-shirt and bra.
Just as I tugged the fabric over my head, plunging into darkness—
"This'll work." His hand closed over mine. "Let me."
No time to protest. His other arm banded around my waist, pinning me beneath him.
Then he ducked his head and pressed his mouth to my skin.
Ethan's earlier teasing had left my chest damp, and my half-fastened clothes only made the marks stand out more.
Then came the click of the door locking, followed by the sound of the curtain being drawn back again.
"What's wrong?" He caught my discomfort instantly, his voice warm with concern.
Looking up at his stupidly handsome face, I felt heat rush to my cheeks. "Dr. Roscente, could you... maybe step out for a sec? I need to pump some milk, or I'll never survive training..."
He gave a slow nod at my flustered explanation.
Once the curtain swished shut, I froze. This wasn't how I'd planned things. I'd rushed straight from the shower to request leave, thinking it'd be quick—no prep, no supplies.
No container for the milk. And this bed? Brand new. Ruining it would be a disaster.
"Doctor... you wouldn't happen to have a disposable cup?" I called out, wincing at how small my voice sounded.
A beat later, his hand appeared past the curtain, offering a paper cup.
Misjudging the distance, his knuckles grazed against bare skin.
"Ah—" The contact startled a gasp out of me, followed by a thin stream of milk dripping onto his fingers.
The silence that followed was deafening.
I could practically hear Dr. Roscente's breathing grow heavier.
Fumbling to break the tension, I leaned forward with the cup—only to squeeze too hard. A sharp sting made me hiss.
After a loaded pause, his voice cut through the curtain. "Have you had your prolactin levels checked?"
I blinked. "No?"
"Excessive prolactin causes severe lactation. Left untreated, it can lead to amenorrhea... or infertility."
My stomach lurched. "It's... that bad?"
Until now, I'd been too mortified to even mention it, praying it would just stop on its own.
If training hadn't become unbearable, I wouldn't be here. But the gravity in his tone sent panic skittering down my spine.
Before I could process it, he yanked the curtain open. "I have a solution."
His gaze dropped, voice turning low. "Lunch break's almost over. Lose the clothes—it'll be faster."
My pulse hammered, but I swallowed hard, arching to peel off my T-shirt and bra.
Just as I tugged the fabric over my head, plunging into darkness—
"This'll work." His hand closed over mine. "Let me."
No time to protest. His other arm banded around my waist, pinning me beneath him.
Then he ducked his head and pressed his mouth to my skin.
End of My Campus Doctor's Forbidden Cure Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to My Campus Doctor's Forbidden Cure book page.