Chapters 3

Chapter 3

The knocking on the door grew louder. My heart hammered against my ribs, matching the wild beeping of the monitor beside me. Ethan’s hand was still on my chest, warm and heavy, his fingers just above the swell of my breasts. He looked at me like he wanted to ignore whoever was outside and keep going.

“Dr. Black!” the voice called again, sharper this time. “This is urgent.”

Ethan let out a low curse under his breath. He pulled his hand away slowly, like it hurt him to do it. His blue eyes stayed locked on mine, dark with something I had never seen directed at me before. Hunger.

“Stay right here,” he whispered. “I’ll handle this.”

He stood up, straightened his scrubs, and unlocked the door. A nurse stood there, looking stressed. Behind her, I caught a glimpse of another doctor hurrying down the hall.

“Car pile-up on the highway,” the nurse said quickly. “Multiple traumas coming in. The director wants you leading the team.”

Ethan nodded, all business again, but I saw the tightness in his jaw. “I’m on my way.” He glanced back at me one last time. “I’ll check on you later, Lila. Rest.”

The door closed, and the room felt empty. Too quiet. I let out a shaky breath and touched the spot on my chest where his hand had been. My skin still tingled. What was I doing? This man was my doctor. I was lying here broken, in a hospital gown that barely covered my thick thighs and soft belly. Yet my body was reacting like a woman who hadn’t been touched in years.

I tried to push the thoughts away. I needed to focus on getting better. Not on the way Ethan Black looked at my curves like they were something special.

The day dragged on with nurses coming in and out. They changed my bandages, helped me wash up a little, and brought lunch I barely touched. Every time the door opened, my stomach flipped, hoping it was him. It never was.

By evening, the pain in my leg had settled into a dull throb. I flipped through the TV channels without really watching. My mind kept replaying those moments — his fingers on my skin, the way he said I was beautiful. No pity in his voice. Just raw want.

A soft knock pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Come in,” I said.

Ethan stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He looked exhausted but still so damn handsome. His dark hair was messier now, sleeves rolled up showing strong forearms. He carried a tablet in one hand.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, voice low as he approached the bed.

“Better than this morning,” I replied. I shifted a little, and the gown slipped off one shoulder, exposing more of my caramel skin and the top of my heavy breast. I quickly pulled it back up, cheeks burning.

Ethan’s eyes followed the movement. He didn’t look away fast enough. “Good. Your vitals are strong.” He sat on the edge of the bed again, closer than before. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, Lila. Between surgeries. I couldn’t focus.”

My breath caught. “You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re my doctor.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s against every rule. But from the second I saw you in that wrecked car… something hit me. Your strength. The way your body looked so soft and full even when you were hurting.” His voice dropped. “I want to know every inch of you.”

Heat rushed between my legs. I pressed my thighs together under the sheet, feeling the thickness of them, the way my body responded to his words. No man had ever talked to me like this. Most saw my size and either fetishized it in secret or ran.

“Ethan… I’m not like the women you probably date,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands. “I’m big. Everywhere. My belly, my thighs, my breasts. Guys usually lose interest once they see all of me.”

He reached out and gently lifted my chin so I had to meet his eyes. “Then they were fools.” His thumb brushed my lower lip. “I see you, Lila. And I like what I see. A lot.”

The air between us felt electric. He leaned in slowly, giving me time to pull away. I didn’t. His lips brushed mine — soft at first, then deeper. Hungry. I moaned quietly into his mouth as his hand slid down to my waist, gripping the soft curve there like he couldn’t get enough.

“You feel perfect,” he whispered against my lips. His fingers moved lower, tracing the side of my hip under the sheet. “So warm. So fucking soft.”

My body arched toward him without thinking. Pain mixed with pleasure as his hand explored, gentle but possessive. He kissed me again, harder this time, and I forgot about the hospital, the rules, everything except how good his touch felt.

Then his pager went off loudly.

He pulled back with a frustrated groan, checking it. His face changed. “Damn it. Another emergency. They need me in surgery.”

I was breathing hard, lips swollen, my gown twisted around me. “Go. Save them.”

Ethan stood but hesitated. He looked down at me with fierce eyes. “This isn’t over, Lila. When I come back, I’m going to take my time with you. Properly. I want to show you exactly how much I crave every curve you have.”

He adjusted the sheet over me and left quickly, the door clicking shut.

I lay there, body on fire, mind racing. What had I just done? Kissing my doctor in a hospital bed while recovering from a car crash. It felt reckless. Dangerous.

But I wanted more.

Night fell slowly. I dozed off at some point, dreaming of his hands on my body.

A noise woke me sometime after midnight. The door opened quietly. I thought it was Ethan again, coming back like he promised. My heart jumped with excitement.

But it wasn’t him.

A man in dark clothes stepped inside, face hidden by a hood. He moved toward my bed without turning on the lights. In his hand, something glinted — a syringe.

“Who are you?” I whispered, fear spiking through me.

He didn’t answer. He just kept coming closer.

My hand fumbled for the call button, but it slipped from my fingers as he reached the side of the bed.

“Dr. Black can’t protect you forever,” he muttered, low and cold.

The syringe came down toward my IV line.