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You Are My Remedy Novel Cover

You Are My Remedy

In the modern romance You Are My Remedy, a woman leads a double life, hiding a private addiction from everyone she knows. Her carefully maintained facade shatters during an overnight company team-building trip when she realizes she has forgotten her essential medication. Forced to share a tent with a male coworker, her physical impulses spiral into an uncontrollable crisis. This unexpected vulnerability creates an intense, irreversible connection that threatens to change their lives forever.
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Chapter 2

Soon, my whole body was shuddering, while there was a warm stream gushing out between my legs.

I kept my head buried between my legs and did my best not to look at Dean. People would mock me for being a skank if they noticed my condition, and I couldn't bear to stay in the company at that point.

Meanwhile, Miles Hendrix, the other colleague in the tent, was already snoring out loud.

I kept clenching my knuckles, my own nails digging into my palm.

The pain calmed me somewhat, and I told Dean, "Sorry, I'm not distancing myself… I'm just not feeling well…"

Never could I have expected Dean to move toward me without another word, reaching out with his large, warm palm and pressing it over my forehead.

Even as he held his palm steady, I found myself staring at his chest and nothing else.

I could also see that distinct collarbone and chiseled chest under his shirt…

I seemed to tighten at the very next second and orgasmed amid my embarrassment, and the ensuing moan could barely be stifled.

Worst of all, I was trembling even worse after I orgasmed, and Dean could clearly feel me shaking.

"That's strange. Why are you so flushed? You don't even have a fever," he murmured, not giving up feeling my forehead and cheeks just then.

I trembled even more and turned my face away, but it was the back of the tent right behind me.

Having nowhere else to go, I clenched my jaw so I wouldn't moan again, even as I decided I couldn't stay in this sealed room when all I could smell was Dean.

He wasn't a smoker, so his faint soapy and hormonal scent was especially recognizable.

I could feel all the pores around my opening, as the orgasm left me painfully sensitive to everything.

In the heat of the moment, I pushed Dean away and sent him stumbling backward, while I scrambled to crawl out of my tent, not caring that my skirt was short, exposing my wet panties right in front of his eyes.

He promptly turned away to stop himself from staring, but he was no brat either.

Seemingly struck with a thought, he followed me, even as I lost control over my body.

The fire in my loins was ablaze, and I had never felt libido this violent.

All I could think about was Dean's collarbone under his white shirt, his Adam's apple, his healthy hued skin, and even his warm palm.

At that point, I had barely made a few more steps before I dropped to my knees, my sex drive overwhelming me to the point I couldn't feel my knees painfully hitting the ground.

Dean promptly chased me down, trying to keep me on my feet while asking, "What's wrong?"

I somehow had this feeling that if anyone else had fallen sick and dropped on his knees, he wouldn't hesitate to help them.

He was usually quiet back at the office, but also always very reliable.

But the more helpful he was now, the more skin contact we would have.

Even as the stimulations in my body got worse, I could feel my own legs stiffening, the waves of thrill keeping me off my feet.

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