A Quick Check

Avery clips the curb leaving a dark dent along her front bumper. Before she can even curse, Little Puck is already at her window—still in her EMT vest. She helps Avery inside, sits her down on the edge of the dining table, and starts the exam. Hands move over scalp and spine, then they slide lower. The pressure changes. Avery’s breath hitches when Puck’s fingers find the inside of her thigh instead of the joint they’re meant to test. Nothing about the touch is clinical anymore. Avery arches anyway. When the check is finished and Puck steps back, Avery catches her wrist and pulls her back in. “You gonna leave me like this, or are you going to fuck me rough like I know you want to?” Puck doesn’t answer—just shoves Avery’s skirt higher and bends her over the table.