Born in New York City, then dumped and abandoned in California at age Seven, Maeve was forced to take care of and raise herself. The neglected child walked through the bustling streets of Los Angeles, lonely and often feeling depressed for quite a f...
Justin set me down gently on the edge of the cold, marble counter, and I grunted in discomfort, goosebumps rising up on the skin of my legs. "Do you mind stripping?" He questioned, placing his hands on either sides of my legs, gazing up at me expectantly.
"No, of course not, I don't mind at all. I'll just- get naked right here, with you watching. Yup, I'm totally okay with that." I stated sarcastically, smiling at him in a sickeningly sweet way.
He scrunched up his face as if thinking over my response. "Was that sarcasm-?"
"Idiot!" I cried out, inwardly face palming at his utter stupidity. He rolled his eyes at that, muttering out a quiet, bashful, 'Shut up', though I did take notice of a very light blush illuminating his round cheeks.
"No, but seriously, Stray. I need to make sure your back and stomach are okay, too. Not just that pretty face of yours. You did fall down the stairs." He said pointedly, wiggling his pointer finger in my face. Growling, I leaned forwards and grabbed his long finger between my teeth, biting down gently. "Hey now, no biting your doctor. Ever heard the saying, 'a dog doesn't bite the hand that feeds him,' that goes for you too, Stray. You naughty girl." He chuckled, pulling his finger from my teeth.
"I'm not a dog, Justin." I hissed out, stubbornly crossing my arms over my chest.
"Dr. Bieber." He coughed out, glaring at me.
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Ignoring his rude interruption, I continued speaking. "And I'm not stripping. My back and stomach are fine, for your information."
"Ah, but you can't know that for sure until I check. So, just take off your shirt. You can keep the pants on if you'd prefer. But at one point, they'll need to come off too." He stated, resting on of his hands on my almost fully exposed thighs.
Who does he think he is? Making girls drop their pants. How absurd.
"You know what, fine. It's not like it's the first time." I grumbled out the low part with a soft snarl in my tone. With that being said, I removed his large, baggy shirt from my body, letting it drop onto the counter beside me.
"Such a good girl." He cooed, praising me just as one would a dog. I merely rolled my eyes, not bothering wasting any more breath on this dumb ass. "Now, let's see what damages has been done." He breathed out, bowing his head slightly. "Sit up a bit more, please."
I obeyed, not needing any confrontation at the moment, and with the state I was in, there was no way I could win against Justin, despite his rather lanky, awkward appearance. "Well look-y here." He sighed, his fingers tracing an area just below my rib cage, and I flinched at the contact. "Looks like you got yourself pretty good right here." He muttered.
"It's not as bad as it could be." I shrugged, nonchalantly, brushing it off.
"True, but it's still pretty bad." He shot back, leaning forwards even more to get a better look at the injury, though, if he were to tilt his head up, even in the slightest, he would come face-to-face with my boobs. "That looks like the only one worth taking a closer look at on your stomach, so why don't we get a look at your back." He stated, then tilted his chin upwards.
