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The practice field was as quiet as a church. The trainers rushed me into the facility and splayed my hand on a table to x-ray it. As soon as they saw it, I was slung into a car and dropped off in the operating room at San Antonio Mission Hospital, being prepped for emergency surgery. Coach was with me the whole time.

Of all the fucking accidents to happen, why did it have to be my right hand?

There was a knock on the door and Coach walked in. He scratched the back of his head with his visor. “How you feelin’, Wes?”

“Could you hand me that water?”

The pitcher was on a cart too far for me to reach. He poured a cup full and placed it in my left hand.

“Thanks.” I took a sip, feeling the nausea subside.

“Surgery went well.” He rocked back on his heels. “The doc’s coming in to talk to you about the prognosis, and then our trainers will be in to come up with a plan. We’ll figure this out. We’re all behind you.”

“Good.” I nodded. “I want to get back on the field as soon as I can. I can throw with my left if I need to.” I tried to laugh, but my head was fuzzy, and moving my right shoulder shot pain all the way down to my fingertips.

“We know you do.” He tapped the footboard on the hospital bed. “Get some rest and we’ll talk strategy tomorrow.”

I finished off the water and reached for the remote. A broken hand wouldn’t take that long to heal. I knew the drill. I’d take some extra meds. The trainers could pump me up with whatever I needed to make it through the games, we could make it to the Super Bowl, and I’d heal in the off-season. This was a standard injury. Nothing more.

The immediate gut-wrenching feeling I had when I woke up started to evaporate as I convinced myself this wouldn’t be a setback. I might miss one game. Only one. And then the Wranglers would have me back after the bye week. That gave me two weeks to recover enough to play.

I flipped through the channels, landing on Sports Now. I read the ticker, expecting to see my name on the scroll as one of the headlines. Maybe since the injury had occurred at practice, the Wranglers had managed to keep it away from the press. None of us wanted this getting out.

I listened to the talking heads discuss the playoff possibilities. We were one of the teams on the cusp of breaking in. I rolled my eyes at the discussion. The Wranglers were going. I didn’t need to hear these idiots debate how good my team was.

“Knock, knock. Mr. Blakefield, how are you feeling?”

I looked over from the TV. Suddenly, I felt a whole let better. There was a gorgeous woman circling the bed, walking toward my injured hand. She had long blond hair pulled back, but tiny wisps floated around her face. Her blue eyes were striking.

“I’m Dr. Ashworth.” She smiled, showing off luscious pink lips.

I knew what this was. This was the guys’ way of trying to cheer me up. They knew how much I liked the nurse getup last night. They probably heard it through the suite door. It wasn’t like I held anything back when I fucked a woman. They had sent me an upgraded version to cheer me up after my surgery.

“Doc, is it?” I teased.

“Mmmhmm. I performed the surgery on your hand. I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet ahead of time. You were already prepped by the time I got to the OR.”

Most strippers wore more revealing clothes, but maybe in the hospital, she had to cover up a bit more. Maybe underneath that white coat, she was one gorgeous naked woman. I was limited to what I could do, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do a little something to make me feel better.

“How’s the pain?” she asked.

I played along with her charade. “It could be better.”

She twisted those full lips together. “I can probably help you with that.”

I smiled. It was exactly what I was thinking. The perfect distraction to get my mind off my damn hand. I could already feel myself getting hard. She was beautiful. High cheekbones and the cutest damn nose I had seen on a woman. My dick stiffened as I pictured her lowering herself on me. I didn’t realize I’d had a fantasy of getting sucked off in a hospital until she walked in.

“Are you going to lock the door?” I asked.

“It’s not going to take long. I don’t think anyone will interrupt the exam.”

“If you say so.” I grinned. God, this was going to be one hell of a story to tell the guys—how I got off right after surgery to a sex kitten in a doctor’s costume.

She made a note on the clipboard she was carrying, then placed it on the table next to the bed. “I think I’ll take a look.”

“What if I help you out?” I pulled back the sheet and gown, showing her how hard and ready I was for her mouth.

She jumped back. “What are you doing?”

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