The Pairing (The Proposition #3)(29)

At the word, color flooded into Pesh’s tan cheeks, and he broke eye contact to momentarily stare down at the floor. His reaction was exactly what Megan had feared she would experience in the moment. She had hardly imagined his level of professionalism would allow him to be embarrassed about a medical condition. But of course, their past interactions made anything of the sexual kind a little more mortifying than if she was dealing with one of the male interns.

It took Pesh only a few seconds to recover, and then he immediately turned his attention to Mr. Robertson. “Did you take any erectile dysfunction medication in the last four to six hours?” When Mr. Robertson started to look at Megan, Pesh shook his head. “My nurse will stay with me through the duration of your care. So I will repeat once again, did you take any medication?”

“Cialis.”

“How many milligrams?” When Mr. Robertson shrugged, Pesh demanded, “Are you being purposefully evasive, or do you not know?”

“I don’t know, okay? I got it off a buddy of mine.”

“Do you normally take medication that isn’t prescribed to you?”

“I just wanted to try it out.”

Pesh glanced over at Megan. “I’m going to ask for a full blood work-up. Who knows what else he might’ve taken.”

Megan nodded and punched in the code on the electronic chart to get a member of the Phlebotomy team up to draw the blood. After going over to the dispenser, Pesh slid a pair of rubber gloves on. “I’m going to have to examine you now.”

With a resigned huff, Mr. Robertson threw the sheet back. Megan bit down on her lip to keep from laughing at the expression on Pesh’s face. She was pretty sure he hadn’t had to deal with a lot of penises that resembled enormous eggplants in his career. Of course, her amusement quickly faded when she realized how awkward it was being in the room with him while he held another man’s penis in his hand.

She tried busying herself with the electronic chart in front of her. She wanted to do anything but look at the scene unfolding before her. Once Pesh finished that part of the exam, Mr. Robertson eased back down on the examining table, and Pesh once again eyed the eggplant-colored penis.

“Precisely how long have you had the erection?”

“Five and a half hours.”

“There doesn’t appear to be any artery rupture, so we won’t need to perform surgery. I think the quickest form of treatment, as well as the least invasive, would be to try an injection to narrow the veins and reduce the blood flow to your penis. That should reduce the swelling.”

Mr. Robertson’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And where do you have to give me the shot?”

“In the penis, of course.”

With a gulp, Mr. Robertson replied, “Fine. Do it.”

Pesh nodded. “Can you grab a syringe of alpha-agonist please?”

“Sure,” Megan replied. She gladly retreated from the room to head to the medicine closet. After checking the syringe dosage, she reluctantly returned to Mr. Robertson’s room.

“Thank you,” Pesh said, as he took the medication from her. She watched with mild disgust, as well as fascination, as he took Mr. Robertson’s penis in his hand. “Take a deep breath,” he instructed.

The moment the needle pricked the skin, Mr. Robertson howled uncontrollably. Megan couldn’t help rolling her eyes at what a complete pansy he was being about the pain. Once Pesh finished, he dropped the empty syringe in the biohazard container and then glanced back at Mr. Robertson. “If the swelling hasn’t begun to dissipate in the next ten to fifteen minutes, we’re going to have to take another course of action.”

“What’s that?” Mr. Robertson questioned, with a grimace.

“Aspirating the penis of the blood.”

Mr. Robertson paled considerably. “Oh God, she mentioned that.” He said the word she like Megan was a swarm of locust.

Pesh turned to smile at Megan. “Then she made a good call.” He then eyed his pager that was going off. “Keep an eye on him. I’ll be back in fifteen.”

“Okay, I will.”

Time ticked by agonizingly slow as she worked on charts and kept an eye on Mr. Robertson. Every few minutes, he was lifting up the sheet to eye his erection. Each time he grimaced, Megan imagined that the shot wasn’t working and the swelling hadn’t gone down. When Pesh entered the room again, he glanced from her to Mr. Robertson. “So how are we doing?”

She shook her head. “No change.”

“I see.” He went over to a drawer and searched through it before producing a very large syringe with a very thick needle. “I’m sorry, Mr. Robertson, but it looks like this is our only choice.”

Mr. Robertson seemed speechless for the first time all night. “Ms. McKenzie, can I get you to assist me?” Pesh asked.

“Of course.”

“I need you to help restrain him. I need him to be as still as possible.”

Megan fought the urge to roll her eyes at his suggestion. Mr. Robertson had to outweigh her by a hundred pounds, not to mention that when pain got your adrenaline pumping, you were even stronger. But she did as she was told.

As Pesh brought the needle to Mr. Robertson’s penis, she gripped her hands tight into his shoulders. When the needle pierced the skin, it took everything within her to keep him on the table. Gritting her teeth, she held her ground. Finally, when the last of the blood had been withdrawn, she was able to loosen her grip.