Read His American Fling Online

Authors: Kim Brogan

His American Fling (8 page)

BOOK: His American Fling
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“Chesterton said, “A stiff apology is a second insult. The injured party does not want to be compensated because he has been wronged; he wants to be healed because he has been hurt.” So you’ll excuse me if I don’t accept your apology just so you can feel better about yourself.  I’ve tried apologizing, but you’ve been totally unreceptive and a real cow about it.”

Maggie turned red with anger.  She clenched her jaw, and stomped towards her room. She opened the door, turned to Campbell, still clenching her jaw. “You know, you have your whole life to be a jerk, so why don’t you take a day off from time to time, you
might enjoy being human.”

She walked into the room, swinging the door to close it, but something hit the door and it flew open. Whipping around, she startled when she found him standing in the doorway, his bag in one hand and the other hand balled in a fist. Maggie approached him pointing at the door to the hall, her entire body shaking with anger. “Go suck on a stick you...you putrid, boring self-righteous quack with play-dough for brains!”

Campbell cocked his head, “What? Play-dough? Are you trying to make a point or just a nutter?” His body was betraying him. He felt excited by her sauciness and the state of undress. He could see the shape of her nipples just under the tank top. Leaving was his best option, but despite warnings going off in his head, he pushed her up against the wall, dropped his bag and grabbed her hair behind her neck.

 

Chapter 4

What Was That All About?

 

 

I wasn’t sure if Campbell’s sudden move was a good thing or not. I must have looked vulnerable because he pounced like a cougar that had just caught a rabbit. I could smell his soap mixed with his body odor. It was manly, but not unpleasant, and it was making me flush with excitement. Eyes closed, he turned his head slightly, nose flush next to mine, covering my lips with his. His lips were slightly open, his mouth was warm and he tasted like toothpaste
.  He must have brushed his teeth when he got dressed.
That tongue of his was so quick and his kiss so lusciously forceful that I gave up all pretense of wanting him to leave and kissed back-- hard. It had been a long time since a man had made me go all squishy inside.

I slipped my arm around his neck and felt his hand fondle me through the rather thin tank top I was wearing. He stopped kissing and concentrated on feeling my breast. His breathing quickly became fast and shallow, the sounds and touch of his fingers cupping and playing with my breasts and nipples, sending
all the right signals through my body. I was matching him breath by breath, my pulse picking up quickly. 

Continuing to roll my nipples through the tank top, Professor Adair stopped, reached under my top to
fondle my breast in his palm and then went back to covering my mouth with his, the tongue taking up residence next to mine. His fingers were long and wrapped easily around my breast.  As his thumb played with my nipples, he started giving me deeper kisses, his tongue becoming more aggressive.

Campbell’s hips pushed into mine, grinding against my body.
Everything in my groin was on fire and I wasn’t sure I could take much more of this foreplay standing up. I shifted a little and could feel his healthy erection through his jeans. Lifting my leg, I wrapped it around the small of his back, pulling him in as close as possible. Lifting the hem of my top, he pulled it up over my breasts. His mouth abandoned mine and latched onto my nipple, sucking so hard it was both painful and pleasing.

There was a quick knock on the door, which
, to my dismay, I noticed wasn’t quite latched all the way.  Campbell stopped sucking and jumped back several feet, his hands flying up as if I were a hot potato. I managed to get my top down just as the door opened. Professor Adair turned away from Mr. Bitner, who was now standing in the doorway. He didn’t want Bitner to see that he was highly aroused. 

Mr. Bitner looked at me, standing up against the wall and then at Professor Adair with his back to him. His knitted brow and pursed lips told me that he knew something was up, but wasn’t quite sure what. Professor Adair picked up his bag and placed it strategically in front of him before turning to address Mr. Bitner.

“Yes, well I will be going now. Thank you Ms. McGee. Mr. Bitner, before I go, is there anything else?” Professor Adair smiled at the confused husband.

 

Mr. Bitner shook his head, “No, I was just on my way to the pharmacy and was going to ask Ms. McGee if she would watch my wife until I get back.”

I spoke, my voice cracking, “Of course I will.”  Professor Adair slipped past Mr. Bitner. “Goodnight doctor,” I yelled at him. 

He turned, glanced at me quickly, and
then bolted. Mr. Bitner left and I sat down on the edge of my bed. 
What the hell was that all about?

*********************

The worst part about staying in a dorm is that you have to share a bathroom with everyone else. And when you live on the ground floor, you often share it with the public who wander through the grounds to get a feel for a real part of Cambridge University. I was in the bathroom, taking a shower, when I heard someone coughing in the shower next to mine.

“Mrs. Bitner? Is that you?” I waited, but there was no response. It had been a week since Mrs. Bitner’s respiratory problems had led to my momentary lapse in sanity and Professor Adair’s mouth on my breast.

  I decided that it must not be Mrs. Bitner. After dressing, I stepped out of the shower room and into areas next to the sinks. The coughing still coming from the shower-room had that phlegm-sopped sound and was getting louder.  I decided to wait just outside to see if the woman needed help. A few minutes later one of the law school students, Tanya Hunter, appeared. She was an incredibly thin girl with horn-rimmed glasses. I’d say she probably in her early-twenties. I liked her because she wasn’t at Cambridge to party. Most nights she stayed in her room and studied late into the night to pass two legitimate history courses being offered that summer. Tanya and I sometimes visited each other just to have a break from our schoolwork and jobs. She was a sweet kid from Atlanta.

“Tanya?  You sound like hell.  What’s wrong?”

 

She held up her arms, palms up, “I just can’t shake this cold.  My lungs are filled with crap, and I can’t cough it up.”

“You need to get it checked. Have you been out to Addenbrookes?”

She frowned, “I’m not sure how to get over there.”

“You just take the bus, the 14A to Addenbrookes. Catch it just up the block.”

Tanya still seemed uncomfortable. “Can you come with me? I’ve never had to go to the hospital.”

What is wrong with everyone?  Can’t anyone get themselves to a hospital? Is everyone so helpless? Well, she is young and her mom probably goes with her whenever she has to go to the doctors.

“I have to call the dean and see if he’ll let me go with you.” 

I called Dean Hopkins and got the okay to accompany her to Addenbrookes. It was Friday so I had to be back by three-thirty to get to work at Marks and Sparks (the British nickname for the department store.) We caught the 14A and as we walked up to the doors of Addenbrookes I saw Henry.

“Maggie!  How are you, darling?”  He said, giving me a kiss on each cheek.

I chortled with glee. “Fine Henry.  How are you?”

“Well as can be.  Are you here about your arm?”

I motioned to Tanya, who was mesmerized by the charismatic Henry and his upper-class accent. “No, I’m taking Tanya in to be checked over, she’s had a cold that won’t go away and her lungs are full of phlegm.”

“Hmm, that sounds like Campbell’s department. You could go up and roust him; he’d see you quicker than the clinic. The clinic’s backed up right now with school physicals.”

 

I needed to get back to go to work, and spending hours waiting for a cold to be checked out wasn’t something I could afford. “Henry, would you go back in with us and ask Professor Adair to see us? I don’t know if he wants to talk to me.”

Henry laughed and looked at me suspiciously. “What do you mean?  What did you do now?”

“I’m not sure, but whatever it was, he ran out without saying good bye.”

“I thought he made a late night sojourn to your dorm to treat a sick American? He can’t be too angry with you if you can blast Campbell out of his house in the middle of the night.”

“We had yelled at each other before he left. He didn’t say good night.”

Henry put his hand over his mouth to hide the grin, “Oh, this I have to see. Come on, let’s go back in.” He turned to go back inside.

I felt a little guilty and broached the issue, “I hope I haven’t prevented you from doing something?”

“I was just going to go out and get my dry cleaning. It can wait.” He smiled warmly at me.

We went up to the Infectious Disease Department, and Henry had a word with the nurse behind the modern desk with the frameless flat panel computer screens and wireless keyboards. Tanya was waved over by the nurse and told to fill out a form. In the meantime, Henry went back behind the desk and disappeared down a hall. I assumed the hall led to the examination rooms and doctors’ offices. Five minutes later he came to the desk and waved for us to follow him.

I felt a little bad for the half a dozen people who were obviously waiting their turn to see a doctor. But I desperately needed to get back to the dorm get ready for work so Tanya and I went back with Henry to an examination room.

 

“Alright Mags, I think I will pop out to get my dry cleaning now.” He peeked down the hall to see if anyone was coming, “I understand what you mean. Campbell seemed somewhat agitated when I told him you were here. But never you mind. He’ll fix you up when he gets done talking to his mother. Ta!”  Henry gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, grinned and started for the door.

“Adios, Henry.”  I said.

Tanya waved goodbye, “Thank you!”

We waited five minutes, looking through the medical brochures on how to prevent the
spread of infectious diseases while we waited.   The room had several pieces of equipment, an exam table and aqua walls displaying charts of the respiratory system. We talked a little about the National Health Service in Britain, and then, just as we moved on to the odd behavior of the British, the door finally opened and Campbell swept in through the door clothed in his lab coat, crisp blue shirt, black pants and stethoscope hanging around his neck. 

He immediately looked at me and without expression
asked, “Are we dealing with the same thing as Mrs. Bitner?”

I thought for a second, “I don’t know to be honest.”

Without any inflection, he turned to Tanya and asked, “What are your symptoms?”

Tanya seemed to be in awe of him.  I could understand, he was looking strikingly handsome and authoritative in his lab coat and pressed trousers.  His hair was a little longer than when we first met. His eyes were exceptionally blue, picking up the color from his deep blue shirt.

“I have a cough that’s getting worse and a headache that comes and go.  I feel very tired, and it’s hard for me to concentrate on my studies.”

“Your cough, does it get worse during the day?”

“No, at night and in the mornings. But if I’m up and out doing something it’s much better.  Same with my headache.”

 

Stethoscope in hand, he first listened to her chest and back. Then he examined her eyes, ears and throat.  After taking a swab of her throat and nose, he placed them in tubes to be sent to the lab. I watched as he pulled out a prescription pad from his lab coat pocket. He wrote out a prescription and handed it to her. 

“You need to come back on Monday; we should have the results of the samples. Now Tanya, can you take this slip down to the first floor lab and have them draw your blood?  Maggie will join you in a few minutes. I want to examine her to see if we have something contagious in your dorm.”

Tanya nodded. “Thank you, doctor.”  She hopped down and left the room.

I was nervous, my foot shaking up and down as I tried to remain calm.

“Get up on the table.” It was a command, not a request.

I blushed bright red and froze.

“Oh, for God’s sake, I’m not going to molest you. I really do want to check your lungs and get some samples. Mrs. Bitner came into the clinic and they called me down to consult. We couldn’t find the usual bacterial or viral infections. I suggested to the Bitners that they spend a few days off campus and she informed us yesterday that she started to clear up, but it got worse when they went back to sleep in the dorm. I think we might have something in the dorm like Legionnaire’s disease or MRSA. I want to examine you.”

“Okay.” I jumped up on the table and just before he put his stethoscope into his ears he said, “I want to apologize for my behavior the other night. I really don’t know what got into me. I’m quite embarrassed.” He looked deep into my eyes, “I hope you can forgive and forget?”

 

I didn’t think there was anything to forgive and I certainly didn’t want to forget, but it was obvious that he wanted to paint it as a momentary lapse.  If I wanted to save face, I needed to play along. I didn’t show any emotion, but I nodded, indicating I was going develop selective amnesia.

He smiled. “Thank you.”  Sighing he shook his head. “I just can’t seem to get on the right side of you.”

I wanted to say, “You were doing a pretty good job the other night,” but I said nothing as he began to check my lungs. I did all the silly things he asked me to do, cough, breathe in, breath out. He took off the stethoscope and stepped back so he could look at me.

“Haven’t you noticed a problem breathing? You’re congested.”

I thought about it and my chest did seem tight, “I always have allergies. I take Claritin. I’m allergic to mold
, and it seems every building in England is damp and has mold so I haven’t given it much thought.”

“Your lungs sound congested.  Do you have a headache?”

I shrugged, “I always have headaches.”

I could see he was getting frustrated with my nonchalance.  He took some samples from my throat and my nose.

“I meant are your headaches worse than usual?”

“Yes, but then
you
give me a headache...worse than usual.”

He chuckled and then turned serious
again. “You’re the R.A. I want you to gather some of the people staying in your dorm. I’ll stop by at 8:30 pm tonight and examine them. It will take maybe five minutes each. I need to see if we are looking at three isolated cases or a mass infection.”

“Just what I wanted to do with my Friday night.”

“Here’s a prescription for an inhaler or Vaconase.”  He wrote it out and handed it to me.

BOOK: His American Fling
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