“Okay, folks,” Novak released the pressure, “I don’t think I have double vision. The CT scan, my physical while you were under sedation, and now this exam all say the same thing. Troy, you have two testicles; one is a little smaller, but it’s there. Tim, add a biopsy to the surgical schedule.”
“Doc, what does that mean?” Troy asked.
“It means, at this point, it looks like we got some faulty intel; you have two testicles. The biopsy will tell me more, but I’m concerned there may be more surprises.” Mac shook his head. “Holland, I want the actual films from Iowa and Denver.
“Okay, roll on your back. Fellas, step out.” Mac stripped his gloves, washed his hands and re-gloved. Grabbing a vial and syringe from a small tray, he withdrew the dose using sterile technique. “It should take between five to fifteen minutes and last about thirty minutes. Does your imagination suffice, or would you prefer some literature?”
Troy laughed. “Literature. Get me the manual on how to use a hand grenade.”
“Okay, imagination, then. Tell me about Gwen?” He swabbed the side of Troy’s penis.
“She’s now a first deputy here in San Diego, but she’s been on my protection detail since I went to rehab.” As Troy spoke, he suddenly flinched. “Quick hands, Novak.”
“I find it best when sticking a needle where I just did. Relax, think of Gwen, feel free to self-stimulate. Sorry for the buzz kill; ring the bell when you’re up.” Mac dimmed the lights and stepped out.
Troy closed his eyes. The room was quiet, and he was still relaxed from the morning’s sedation. He imagined his beauty, her long brown hair and her beautiful luminous green eyes. Her lips were made for kissing. The scent of her shampoo.
Unaware of time, he wrapped his fist around his soft penis and replayed every minute spent with Gwen through her years as Tango Team’s XO, the ride to rehab where she teased away his embarrassment, the night she got that concussion, and sleeping beside her in a motel for an op. The peace he felt whenever he was near her. That stressed kiss in Virginia. Resting beside her on the plane. And her laugh. The soft skin of her face. Kissing her before he left her last evening. His desire to make love to her.
Lost in his thoughts, he was held hostage by the rush that arced up his shaft. A bolt of pleasure jolted him, and a hot wash exploded over his fingertips. He lay there stunned and panting. Still hard from the drug and embarrassed by his actions, he rang the bell.
Mac slipped inside. “Well?”
Troy felt his cheeks heat. “Uh, I forgot to hit the bell…um, until now.”
Mac grabbed a pair of gloves and examined his still erect shaft. “Give me your hand.” He placed Troy’s fingers on two areas where there were tiny dips. “These two areas, both on scar lines, are depressed. If not next Friday, then as soon as you’re stable, I’m going to do an angiogram to check the arteries. These are blockages. I can make your physiology better. And because of your success, I’m enrolling you in a penile rehabilitation therapy program. The numbness in some areas will improve with time.”
He recommended that Troy remain on his side and handed him a damp washcloth and towel. “Give yourself some time to come back down.” He covered Troy with a light blanket.“Relax. Now here’s the very big caution: just because everything worked now does not mean it will work completely with a partner. That involves physiology, head and heart.” Mac smiled. “Troy, this was a better result than I expected. It’s something to celebrate. Now the hard work begins.”
“Thanks, Doc. I hear you.”
“I’ll say ‘hard work’ a lot. I’ll see you in Miller’s office tomorrow. And, Troy, hot damn.” He left him be.
Chapter 23
Ignoring the pain in her lower belly, Gwen threw her legs over the side of the bed, panting. “I have to help him,” she cried.
“Gwendolen, I never spanked you as a little girl, but I’m coming close. Get back in that bed,” her father warned.
“Gwen, everyone is working on it. You heard Kip; you need to rest,” Janice begged.
Eric Seton ran in. “Gwen, if you want to help Troy, you need to heal.” He pressed her against the pillows.
“Eric, at 1100 hours, something destructive is being planned against him. I want to help prevent it,” Gwen pleaded.
“I’ve got an idea. Do not leave that bed,” Eric said.
Forty-five minutes later, Troy walked into Gwen’s room, all signs of sedation and his erection gone. “Hey, how are you feeling, Gwendolen?” he maintained his business demeanor.
“Tired and sore. How are you?”
“Good morning, General. I’m doing well,” Troy said. “I spoke to a little birdie, actually a crabby rooster PA. He said if we send a medical team with you, you can go home today.” Troy dangled keys.
“Really?” Gwen’s eyes shone.
“Really. I’m going to let the nurse help you dress, and we will take a ride home.” Troy winked.
How could she tell him about the calls that came in while he was in the procedure room? She couldn't believe the excitement in his tone. Deep down she prayed that happiness would last, but she knew it wouldn't.Gwen maintained her forced smile.
