Chapter 2

2

When Dante took off his coat, he was completely shirtless. He was only wearing a pair of tight swimming trunks.

His muscles were solid, his torso was V-shaped, and his eight-pack was perfect. He was breathtaking.

I stared at him, my face turning bright red. A tiny bit of drool actually escaped my mouth.

I quickly wiped it away, feeling mortified. I couldn't even look him in the eye.

My heart was racing like a wild animal.

I started to have serious doubts. Was this guy really a doctor?

Medical professionals usually rely on years of experience. Dante looked like he was in his early twenties. He probably just graduated.

And what kind of doctor strips down to his underwear in front of a patient? No legitimate professional would ever do this.

As I was questioning his identity, he reached out to lift my shirt.

I jumped and grabbed the hem of my top. "What are you doing?" I demanded, trembling.

Dante didn't hesitate. "I'm practicing holistic medicine. I need to examine your abdomen and give you a therapeutic massage. I am trying to treat you!"

He had a playful, flirty look in his eyes. It didn't feel like a medical treatment.

It felt like he was trying to get me into bed.

"Is this really medical? Are you even a real doctor? Is this place legal?" I asked, panicked.

Dante turned around and grabbed his medical license and diploma. He held them up for me to see. "Does this answer your question?"

I glanced at the documents.

Dante was twenty-five years old. He was a graduate of a top-tier medical school.

He really was a doctor.

Besides, Lydia sent me here. She was my best friend. She wouldn't send me somewhere dangerous.

I figured I was just being paranoid.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Dante," I muttered.

He didn't make a big deal out of it. "Let's continue then," he said with a smile.

"Okay."

Dante reached out and lifted my shirt, exposing my entire stomach.

He poured some essential oil into his hands. He rubbed them together and then started massaging my belly.

I came for a check-up, and now I was getting an oil massage.

I was so confused.

Was this a spa or a hospital? Was Dante a doctor or a male model?

His technique was incredible. Every time his palms touched my skin, he hit a spot that made my toes curl.

I had been lonely for so long, and Dante was so attractive.

In less than three minutes, my body responded. I turned beet red and my muscles began to quiver.

I was so embarrassed to be reacting this way in front of a stranger.

But it got even worse.

Dante's hands felt like they had magic in them. My stomach felt hot, and a soft moan escaped my lips before I could stop it.

I bit my lip hard, trying to stay silent.

Dante picked up the pace. I tried to hold it in, but I couldn't. I let out a loud, high-pitched gasp right to his face.

How could I make such a sound in front of a man I just met?

I wanted to jump off the bed and run home immediately.

This was beyond humiliating!

I pulled the blanket over my face. "Dr. Dante, please stop. Can we try a different treatment?"

Dante chuckled. "I was just about to finish the massage anyway. Now, let's move to the next stage."

I was wearing a button-down shirt. He suddenly grabbed the fabric and yanked.

Buttons flew everywhere. Dante looked down at me with a gaze full of desire.

"Ah!"

I screamed and covered my chest. "What are you doing now?"

"I'm curing you, obviously!" Dante said.

"Nobody treats a patient like this!" I yelled, getting angry.

Dante leaned down. He cupped my face with both hands and pressed his body against mine. Our faces were inches apart.

"You're suffering because you lack intimacy," he whispered. "I am here to give you exactly what you need. Isn't that the best medicine?"

At that moment, I knew the truth.

This place used the clinic as a front. It was actually a high-end club for women.

Dante wasn't acting like a doctor; he was acting like an escort.

The license he showed me was probably a fake.

I was starving for a man's touch. Dante was young, fit, and gorgeous. To me, he looked like the perfect escape.

Part of me wanted to just go with it. I wanted to let him take care of me and satisfy my cravings.

But I was a married woman. If I did this, I would be betraying my husband.

I didn't want to be a cheater.

Plus, my husband was wonderful to me in every other way. He was kind and did everything I asked.

I wanted the physical satisfaction, but I felt a wave of guilt.

I was trapped in a internal struggle. My body wanted one thing, but my conscience wanted another.

I didn't know what to do.