Jenna raced in the double doors, seeing the familiar appreciative glances from the male employees and clients as they took in her long blonde curls and big green eyes. She never took her looks for granted, but occasionally it was wearing on her. She had to wear her hair back and wear severe skirts for men to assume she really wasn't a bimbo. The young male nurse behind the desk looked like a deer caught in the headlights when she again repeated that she was checking in. He seemed to shake it off well enough and she was seated, waiting for her doctor in no time. Well, it wasn't really her doctor. One of her girl friends from her college days had recommended a new OB/GYN doctor.
A few minutes later, after being weighed and measured, poked and prodded, and asked embarrassing questions about her sex life, she was told to remove her clothing and have a seat. She did so quickly, and efficiently...the way she handled her career and her romantic life. She sat on the edge of the hospital chair, and inspected her new pedicure while she waited.
She smelled him first before she saw him. He smelled like an Abercrombie model and a Greek god rolled into one, and when he moved aside the curtain, she saw he looked like he smelled. He had dark wavy hair and sun bronzed skin. His shoulders stretched his scrubs to the point of indecency. She felt her cheeks glow and tried to calm herself. She was not one to go for a pretty face, that only causes drama. She took a breath and gave him a smile.
Derek wasn't prepared for that smile. He was expecting an older woman, checking on the condition of her cervix. This...nymph...was not someone he wanted to look at medically. When she smiled, and he saw that dimple in her left cheek, he felt like someone had physically punched him in the gut.
"Hello....", flipping through the chart, "...Jenna. I understand you are new to this clinic. Actually, so am I, so please excuse the fumbling. I'm Dr. Watts. I'm standing in for Dr. Greyson, as he was called out for a birthing. If you could scoot up a little higher, we can get started." Derek ran a mental check over the tools on the little table, and took a couple deep breaths to will his manhood into submission. You've done this before, Derek, he told himself, his brow creasing. He was disappointed in himself...this was not his first rodeo and he was acting like a teenager.