I hear more rustling and plastic tearing, and then I feel his hand tug firmly at the collar of my shirt, pulling on it slightly. My body seizes involuntarily as the shirt gives way under his actions, exposing the very top of my breasts. My reflexes make me want to shield myself with my hands, but before I can follow through and react, he pushes the second thermometer into my left armpit.
“Don’t let it fall,” he says, and my heart almost bursts inside my chest at how commanding he sounds. “That goes for the one in your mouth as well,” he adds firmly. Strangely enough, I let out an audible sigh of relief when he says, “Turn around.”