The Billionaire's Sinful Affair

CH.16

Mr. Blackthorn’s observations made me tense up.

Panic coursed through me as I scrambled for a plausible explanation.

He hummed questioningly at my delayed response.

I knew I had to lie to cover the truth. The real reasons behind my injuries were too dark and too painful to share, especially with someone I barely knew.

"I sprained my foot when I slipped while cleaning the house yesterday," I began, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. "The wound you're treating now is from me clumsily falling and landing on the sharp edge of a chair. I may have rubbed it too hard while showering, so it started bleeding again."

I tried to inject a self-deprecating note into my words to make the fabrication more believable, forcing a small, embarrassed laugh.

His hand, resting high on my thigh, began making slow, soothing circles with his thumb, lightly caressing the soft skin there.

The gentle motion was at odds with the intensity of his gaze.

I found myself caught between wanting to lean into his touch or pull away.

My body jolted with pleasure, and I involuntarily bucked my hips forward, desperately wishing his fingers to move further upward and feel the moist pulling at my sacred channel.

His fingers suddenly began trailing forward and stopped just before they could touch my panties.

I bit down on my lower lip to stifle the needy whimper that wanted to escape.

“M-Mr. Blackthorn…” I breathed shakingly.

"You have to be more careful," he murmured. His voice had taken on a husky quality that made my insides clench.

"It's not nice when a woman's body is full of scars and blemishes."

I held my breath, afraid that the rise and fall of my chest would betray how aroused I was becoming under his intense scrutiny and forbidden touch.

His words, however, sparked a flare of indignation within me. "All people are subject to accidents and injuries," I challenged breathlessly, trying to deflect from how deeply his words and caresses affected me.

"Why shouldn't a woman's body have a few scars and flaws? Is it because she has to be perfect and unblemished for her man?"

Mr. Blackthorn snatched his gaze from my thighs and locked eyes with me.

His look was deep and inscrutable but heavy with some hidden meaning.

A long, pregnant pause passed between us.

"The violet is unsuitable for her if it is a bruise," he said cryptically.

There was a darker implication that I couldn't quite decipher in his words.

We held each other's heated stare for what felt like an eternity. The air between us was thick with tension and desires.

I could feel the damp patch of arousal blossoming between my thighs, my underwear growing uncomfortably sodden.

Oh my god, this is so wrong! I chastised myself even as a shameful thrill rushed through me.

He was older, intimidating, and practically a stranger. I shouldn't be feeling this way.

"You're a very careful man to keep a first aid kit in the drawer of your car. Do you have children?" I blurted out, desperate to break the charged moment and distract myself from the raging torrent of desire he had unleashed within me.

I saw the brief emptiness flicker across his otherworldly features before he was pulled from whatever distant thoughts were occupying his mind.

Something akin to pain flashed in his eyes but was gone so quickly I wasn't sure if I'd imagined it.

He grabbed a bandage from the kit and tossed it unceremoniously onto my lap, his movements suddenly brusque and impersonal.

"You've finished sterilizing it. You can apply the patch on your own," he stated, his tone now clipped and emotionless as he abruptly withdrew from me, both physically and mentally.

The sudden loss of his warmth and proximity left me feeling bereft and confused.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise at his sudden change in demeanor, so jarring after the thick tension that had hung between us just moments before.

"Okay...good," I replied hesitantly, utterly unsure of what had just transpired but feeling a profound sense of loss.

We were silent for the rest of the ride, but I couldn't stop thinking about how he had touched me.

The feeling of his large hands gently tending to the cut on my thigh was seared into my mind.

This was the first time I'd felt so excited and aroused, and it wasn't from reading some erotic novel - it was from an actual flesh-and-blood man!

The tension in the car was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

I kept sneaking glances at his strong profile, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched as he focused on the road ahead.

After what felt like an eternity of charged silence, he finally pulled up in front of the clinic building.

It was a squat, two-story structure of beige brick with large windows reflecting the cloudy sky above.

I gathered my things, fumbling a bit as I slung the strap of my bag over my shoulder.

My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he must be able to hear it.

I glanced nervously at him, unable to meet his intense gaze for too long.

Those piercing eyes seemed to see right through me, making me feel utterly exposed. "Th-thank you for the ride, Mr. Blackthorn," I stammered out, cringing inwardly at how small and mousy my voice sounded.

God, why did I always turn into such a flustered mess around him?

He didn't respond with words. He simply gave me a curt nod with his expression unreadable - set in a mask of stoic indifference.

He peeled away from the curb as soon as I stepped out of the car and closed the door behind me with a soft thud.

The powerful engine of his black sedan rumbled as he drove off quickly, leaving me standing there on the sidewalk.

I watched his car disappear down the tree-lined street, feeling completely bewildered and more than a little hurt by his abrupt departure.

Did I say or do something to upset him after the heavy, charged moment we had shared?

My mind raced, replaying every second of our interaction, searching for some misstep on my part.

I let out a shaky sigh, trying to compose myself.

My legs felt like jelly as I walked towards the building's entrance, and I had to consciously focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

The automatic glass doors parted with a whoosh of air conditioning, enveloping me in the sterile smell of disinfectant that permeated all medical facilities.

Inside, the small waiting room was simply decorated with a few potted plants and upholstered chairs in muted shades of blue and beige.

Soft instrumental music played from hidden speakers, no doubt an attempt to soothe anxious patients.

"Welcome to the clinic, Miss Lawson. It's been quite a while since your last visit with us." The young receptionist looked up from her computer and greeted me with a warm smile that crinkled the corners of her hazel eyes.

I returned her smile, though it felt more like a self-conscious grimace. "Yeah, the concerns of everyday life have kept me pretty busy," I replied with a small, awkward laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

In truth, I'd been avoiding coming here, putting off this visit for as long as I could. But I couldn't ignore my growing suspicions any longer.

My gaze drifted to the handful of other women sitting on the padded benches that lined the walls.

Some flipped idly through outdated magazines, while others stared blankly into space or fiddled with their phones.

I wondered what had brought each of them here today. Were any of them in a situation similar to mine?

I turned back to the receptionist, lowering my voice conspiratorially. "I didn't actually book an appointment with the doctor in advance. Is there any chance I could get an examination today?"

I bit my lower lip nervously, afraid she would turn me away.

The young woman, whose nametag read 'Jenna', checked the appointment schedule on her computer screen, making a clicking sound with her tongue. "The schedule is pretty packed already," she said apologetically.