My father walks in and says, “How about sex, doc?”
The nurse looks at him then at me. “A month, I’m afraid.”
The surgeon taps my leg to get my attention. “Seriously. None until you see your personal physician for your one-month post-op appointment. And that doctor will be the one who will release you or won’t. If you don’t take good care of the incision and do what the orders say, you will end up needing more time to recuperate.”
I look back at the nurse as she pushes my hospital gown up so the doctor can inspect his handiwork. “By the look of those abs and the rest of you, it’d bet you make vigorous exercise part of your daily routine,” she says.
“I do. An hour every day.” I smile at my commitment to keeping myself fit.
“Yeah,” the surgeon says. “No more of that. Not until your doctor releases you. You can take small walks, no more than a half-mile. Then you can ease up to a mile.”
The nurse takes over again. “No more than that.”
“I know, I know. Until my personal physician releases me. Got it. Now, when can I get the heck out of here and go home?” I ask them all.
“Are you sure you have adequate care at home?” the nurse asks. “Because we have many nurses who could take shifts, taking care of you at your home. Your father has told us you have a large estate and you could have constant care. If you have no one else to do that for you. You will need tons of help, Mr. Girard. I cannot express that enough.”
“I’ll set it up, son. You’ll have nurses there to help you. Don’t worry,” my father says to me then my mother walks into the room too.
“Cyprian, you’re awake!” She sounds so happy. She’s all over me, kissing my whole face.
“Mother!” I say as I laugh. “You’ve never been so affectionate to me before.”
She takes my hand and holds it to her cheek. “My baby wouldn’t wake up. I was a mess. A complete mess, Cyprian. Did I hear them talking about you needing nurses?”
“You did. I think the staff will be enough. I don’t need any nurses. I’ll be fine.”
“Nonsense,” Papa says as he steps up to the foot of my bed.
I laugh a bit and find it hurts, so I stop.
But the idea of having women all around me, living in my home has me worried.
What will Cami think…?
Chapter 8
CAMILLA
The smell of the sterile environment has me rubbing under my nose as it threatens to make me sneeze. Not many people are moving around yet as it’s still pretty early.
I get onto the elevator, finding two more people getting on with me. I push in the 2 button and they each push in other floors. We get to mine first and I step off and look up and down the long hallway.
Easing down the hallway, I try to settle my nerves by twisting my hands in front of me. It’s not helping.
I know Cyprian will be glad to see me if he’s awake. If he’s not, I don’t know how I’ll cope with it. If I never hear his voice again, I don’t know what I’ll do.
The numbers tick off as I walk down the hallway. I pass a room with someone crying with low and long moans. It’s heartbreaking. The door is slightly open and I can’t help but peek in and see an old man sitting by an old woman, who seems to be sleeping in the hospital bed. “Bertha, please come back to me,” he whispers.
The sight and sound hurts my heart and it makes me wonder what I am willing to offer Cyprian if and when he wakes up. I see the numbers 228 on the next door, just across the hallway and my heart stops.
Walking across, I listen at the closed door. “Don’t worry, son. You’ll be well taken care of. I’ll only hire the prettiest nurses to care for you.”
I lean my ear on the door and listen harder. “Papa, you spoil me.”
It’s Cyprian!
He’s awake!
And asking for nurses?
“Only the best for our boy,” a woman says. I assume it’s his mother. “Only the prettiest.”
I hear him laughing and shake my head as I was so damn worried. And for what?
“I’ll get you a list of available nurses, Mr. Girard,” another woman says.
“Pictures with their files, please,” the man I think is his father, says.
Cyprian laughs again and I walk away. He doesn’t need me.
Any woman will do…
The Sensualist Book 7
Chapter 1
CYPRIAN
Pink and odd shades of green fill the sky outside the window of my hospital room. My father sits in one of the chairs, staring out the window, as do I.
“A hurricane,” my father says. “You’re being so stubborn, Cyprian. A hurricane is coming and you’re being released in a couple of hours and instead of coming home with me, you’re choosing to go to your place and not even taking a nurse with you. Are you trying to kill yourself?”
“No,” I tell him as I get off the bed and show him how well I’m getting around. “Look at me. It’s been two days and I barely feel a thing. I’m fine. And I’d rather ride out the storm at my place. I’ve called the staff and they have the necessary things in the house. Even if power is lost, I have a generator for the kitchen.”
He turns his attention to me, instead of the foreboding evening sky. “It’s the idea of you being all alone, Cyprian. At least let me come over. I get it. You don’t want to be around women when you’re unable to perform because of your injury.”
“It’s not that. It’s about my needing time alone. I’ve been going about things so very wrong. I’d like to get into my bed and read until I know how to make the changes I need to.”
“This sudden urge to become someone different is annoying.” My father gets up and gets his cup of coffee. “I don’t understand it. The woman you were doing it for has lost interest in you. Can’t you see that? You’ve been in this hospital for five days and she’s not even made an inquiring call about you. She has to know you’re here. It was on the news.”
I watch him take a sip of the coffee which is now cold. He makes a face and puts if back down. “Papa, you should leave. Go home. Relax and get ready for the storm to hit. They said it would be around ten or eleven tonight. Ashton is driving me home, anyway. He’s waiting outside for me. As soon as the doc comes to check on me, one last time, I’ll be set free.”
He nods and picks up his jacket. “I’m not making any headway with you anyway. You give me a call when you get home and settled. And if anything happens, you let me know. If you need anything…”
“I know,” I interrupt him. “I’ll call you. Now go home. Mother went back to Los Angeles yesterday. It’ll make me feel better to know you’re at home, having a hurricane party rather than sitting with me at my place, bored and lonely.”
With a pat on my back, he leaves me without saying another word. In his defense, he’s been trying to talk me into going home with him the entire day.
Going to the bathroom, I run my hand through my hair and look at my reflection. “Who are you trying to change yourself for?”
Shaking my head, I go back into the hospital room and sit in the chair my father left vacant. I don’t know how to explain to anyone why I feel the need to make changes in myself. Everything looks rosy, on the surface. Inside, I’m a mess.
Twice I’ve done sexual shit that’s gotten me on Cami’s bad side. I can’t seem to learn the difference between right and wrong. To have been taught that, early on, would’ve been helpful.
A lesser man would stand on the fact he was taught deviant sexual practices and that would be that. Women would comply or he’d simply not deal with them.
So, why am I so hung up on Camilla Petit?
She clearly doesn’t care for me. Leaving me like this, proves that much. But I still care for her. As a matter of fact, I need to try to call her to make sure she’s got somewhere safe to be, during the hurricane. If she’ll answer my call that is.
My cell phone is still at home. Once I get there, I will attempt to contact her and make sure sh
e’s okay. I don’t care if she hates me or not, I will not let her anger stop her from being someplace safe for the storm. Her little duplex apartment is nowhere nearly good enough for her to ride the storm out.
The door opens and in sweeps the doctor. “Hey there, Mr. Girard. Are you ready to leave us?”
I get up and shake his hand. “I am.” Lifting up my shirt, I show him the stitches which look excellent. “See, it looks great, don’t you think?”
He nods and writes on a paper on his clipboard. “It does. If you can sign all these papers for me, I’ll get you a wheelchair and a nurse and you will be on your way. You’re doing so well. I think all that worry over having full time nurses around you was a bit too much. You’ll be fine. Did your staff at home manage to get you set up for this hurricane we’re about to have?”
“They did,” I tell him as I sign page after page of release papers. “I’ll be fine. The place is huge.”
“Oh, I know. I saw it just a couple of days ago. An ex-student of mine lives out that way. She and I met again when she was here in the hospital. It had been a few years since I had seen her and something just sparked inside of me when I saw her again. No longer my student and she was available, had me asking her out to dinner and she accepted. We had a nice night out. I’m hoping to see her again soon but she told me she’s just coming off a bad semi-relationship, she didn’t want to talk about.”
My hackles start rising as he goes on about this woman he’s looking forward to dating. I sign the last page and hand him back his clipboard. “So, she’s a neighbor of mine?” I ask him and feel my stomach going tight.
“Yes, she pointed out your estate. She said she heard about your hospital stay from the news and asked if I knew anything about how you were doing.”
When he says nothing else, I ask, “And you told her?”
He shakes his head. “I told her I wasn’t allowed to talk about my patients.”
With a nod, I find myself asking him, “And her name is?”
“Camilla.”
Mother fucker!
“I think she’s one of the cashiers at that convenience store at the edge of town. I think I’ve seen her before. Long, dark, curly hair, right?”
He nods and smiles. “Her hair is gorgeous. Her eyes are like jewels, don’t you think?”
“I really haven’t looked at her that hard. She’s a bit on the thick side,” I say, trying to get him to stop liking her.
“Her curves are incredible,” he says as he shakes his head. “And man, don’t get me started on her plump, completely kissable lips. Man!”
Suddenly, I feel terrible. “Guess I just didn’t look at her the right way. You think you two might hit it off?”
“I hope so. She’s a great girl. And a hell of a scientist. She will do amazing things one day, mark my words.” He walks toward the door to leave. “You have to wait for your ride out. But you’re free to go as soon as they come for you.”
He leaves and I sit on the bed and look out the window at the clouds that are starting to roll in quite heavily. All I can think about is she went out with someone else. She has to be done with me. And now a doctor is after her.
A normal man with money and a career. A great catch for a normal girl, like herself. And she should have a great guy. She really should. Who am I to stand in her way?
A male nurse comes in, pushing an old wheelchair. “Your chariot, sir.” He gives me a grin.
I take a seat and say nothing. My mood is grim, to say the least. He wheels me away as I think about Cami and my doctor and them having an evening out. Dinner, dancing, drinks, normal shit like that!
Jealousy is coursing through me, sending terrible thoughts into my head. Thoughts that shouldn’t be there. Things like going to get her and dragging her to my place where I’ll keep her until she teaches me how to be the man she needs.
If she’d write me a manual, then I could follow it and she’d never have to look for another man again. I’d be her everything. I’d be all she would ever need or want in a man.
The glass doors slide open and I point to the BMW, Ashton is picking me up in. “There he is.”
Ashton sees us and gets out of the car to open the back door. “Classy,” the nurse says as Ashton tips his hat at us.
“Thank you, sir,” Ashton says as I get up and get into the car.
Just as the door closes, I recall my doctor saying he met her in the hospital. That means she did come to see me. But what the hell happened? Did she meet him again and just blow me off?
That seems unlikely. But what did send her away without seeing me…?
Chapter 2
CAMILLA
“Do you have any more toilet paper in the back?” a woman asks me, excitedly.
“No, sorry. We’re all out,” I tell her as I scan the three cases of water she’s buying. “Are you completely out at home?”
“No, I’ve got about twenty rolls but you never know what might happen with a hurricane. It might be days and days before the stores open back up,” she says as she scans the store for anything else she might want to horde.
“I’m sure we’ll all be back up and running in no time, ma’am. Will this be all, today?” I ask her as I try to ignore the tons of other customers who are literally taking everything off the shelves they can.
The woman looks over my shoulder at the six cans of soup I bought myself before they were all gone. “Can I have those?”
“I bought them, already. So, will there be anything else?”
She pulls out a hundred-dollar bill and places it on the counter. “I’ll trade you this for that soup. All six cans.” Her dark brown eyes hold mine as she is dead serious.
Politely, I push the money back to her. “No, ma’am. Your total is sixteen, fifty.”
“I only have enough food at home for nine days. I may need that soup. Please,” she stomps her foot as she says the word, totally negating it.
“Nine days, you say! Wow!” I shake my head and pick up the cans of soup and put them in a bag and hide them under the counter so no one else sees them and tries to take the only food I’ll have.
Slamming a twenty down, she glares at me as if I’ve committed a horrible crime. I make her change and watch her leave, carrying all the heavy bottled water.
The next person in line steps up. “And I’ll be needing three hundred dollars worth of gas on pump 1. That’s me in the truck in that spot,” a small red-haired man tells me.
“I can’t set the pump for that amount. How about ninety dollars, that’s more than enough to get you through this hurricane.” I wait to see what he says as he seems to be getting upset.
“I have tons of old milk jugs in the back of the truck. I can handle the load,” he says. “Make the sales in increments. That’ll work.”
“No, it won’t. You see, I can’t allow you to get gasoline in a container that’s not approved for it. You can’t fill up old milk jugs with it. Sorry. I can let you fill up your truck but nothing else, unless you have an approved gasoline container.” I watch as he turns a shade of red I haven’t see on a human before.
“Look, I need that gas. So just take my money and turn the damn pump on for me. Don’t look at where I’m putting the gas. I won’t tell anyone about it.”
With a sigh, I shake my head and look out at the store that’s gone crazy. The cooler is bare, the shelves are too and the sudden onset of beeping tells me this man is really going to be upset. “That beeping sound means the underground tanks are empty. We have no more gasoline, sir,” I tell him and watch him explode.
His fit is huge and I’m reminded of Yosemite Sam in those old cartoons as he blows his top. Gina manages to get the loud beeping to go away but the effect it had on our customers is still going.
It seems to have sent them into a frenzy, even worse than they were before. A sudden crack of lightning has everyone going quiet. Then someone shouts, “Shit! It’s here!”
With no more time to waste, the man stops his fit and haul
s ass out the door, presumably to get to another gas station before all is lost. I go into automated mode and scan things like a robot, taking money and making change like a champ.
Gina and I work, side by side, to clear up the customers and get them out the door. With a few more swipes of the last of the merchandise our store had, we are done.
I hurry to lock the doors and turn off the outside lights. Gina closes her register as I look at the empty store. “Man, the first day back is going to be a nightmare too.”
“It is,” she agrees. “But that’ll be day shift’s problem, not ours, thank God. Hurry up and close down your register. We need to get the hell out of here.”
Moving back to my register, I quickly take the money out to drop it in the safe and punch in the code to shut it down. The machine has worked more than it’s ever had to before, with all the sells it had to make on this crazy day.
Just as we get it all finished, the wind picks up. The howling of it makes me shiver and I find the rain is falling in sheets. “We’re going to get wet,” Gina says as we look out the glass door.
The windows have been boarded up and we were instructed to place a piece of plywood on the door before we left. It’s leaning against the wall next to it and I don’t see us being able to accomplish the act, now the wind has picked up.
Gina picks up the hammer and six nails that were left for us to do the job. “I’ll hold it up and you hammer,” I say as I pick up the heavy thing.
Then into the rain we go. Me with the heavy board and Gina with the things to put it up with. I can hardly see as the rain pelts me in the face. The wind has it coming at us, sideways.
Gina locks the door then I do my best to get the large piece of wood to the door and hold it while she hammers in the nails until all six are used. She tosses the hammer in the empty ice container and locks it up.
Finished, we can go home. So, we go to get into our cars, soaking wet and cold. “Good luck,” I call out to her.
Dirty Little Virgin: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 215
