by Madison Faye
Doctor Hero
A collection/A tribute
Madison Faye
Copyright © 2020 Madison Faye
Cover: Coverlüv
Photography: Wander Aguiar
Model: Braun Wilburn
Looking for obsessed alpha heroes, steamy-hot insta-love, and romance with a dirty mind? Join my mailing list and grab these TWO ereader-melting, bestselling steamy shorts for free!
* * *
Great books. Hot deals. Zero spam.
www.madisonfayeromance.com/newsletter
* * *
Come join my Facebook group, The Smut Club!
A place for like-minded, dirty-minded, and fun-minded romance fans to get together and talk all things Madison Faye. Man-candy, memes, giveaways, new book news, teasers before anyone else peeps them, and all kinds of fun. I hope to see you there!
Contents
Foreword
Acknowledgments
Doctor Babymaker
Doctor Babymaker
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Doctor O-Maker
Doctor O-Maker
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
The Hitman’s Doctor
The Hitman’s Doctor
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Also by Madison Faye
Mailing List
About the Author
Copyright Notice
Foreword
Dear reader,
I come from a family of do-gooders. You know, the selfless types that go out there and play hero on a daily basis—ER doctors, EMTs, nurses, a few psychologists (oh, if they could get me on that couch…) armed forces both active and veteran, and even a rescue helicopter pilot.
I won’t lie—sometimes, I look at their professions against my chosen one of writing about dicks and growly alphas and orgasms and feel a teeny bit of guilt. I mean, comparatively, what the hell am I actually doing for the world or doing to help? Yes, reading is important, and I do firmly believe that the escape that fiction offers us can’t really be quantified or compared.
But still, and especially in light of our current world-wide health crisis with COVID-19, I found myself wishing there was a way I could actually do some good. Blood makes me squeamish, I’m pretty sure the military would flatly reject me for a number of reasons, and I doubt anyone is insane enough to trust me with the keys to a helicopter.
But, I can write the shit out of a smutty romance book, so, that’s how this idea came to me.
What you’re holding is a collection of three doctor-themed books of mine. Two, Doctor Babymaker and Doctor O-Maker, have previously been released. The third, The Hitman’s Doctor, is a new one.
EVER SINGLE CENT THIS ANTHOLOGY MAKES WILL BE DONATED to an organization named Direct Relief, which is committed to making sure front-line medical staff in disaster zones have the necessary personal protection, tool, and supplies they need in order to fight COVID-19 and keep us and our way of life safe. You can read more about Direct Relief’s mission on their website below, and if you want to give more to their cause, you can do so by clicking “Donate” below.
Thank you, sincerely, for picking up this anthology, and for your support towards this cause, and I hope you enjoy!
* * *
Happy reading!
-Madison Faye
* * *
https://www.directrelief.org/
DONATE
Acknowledgments
The following people and organizations have donated their time, money, and/or talents towards this project, and they deserve a standing ovation for being all around amazing humans:
* * *
Cover design donated by Coverluv Book Designs
Photography donated by Wander Aguiar Photography
Modeling donated by Braun Wilburn
All retailer’s fee/cut forgone by EdenBooks.org
Promotional services donated by BrazenBookshelf.com
* * *
Special thank you to:
Andrey Bahia, Wander Aguiar, Braun Wilburn, Robyn Crawford, Beth, Lara, Sean, Neda Amini, Josh Hale, Christina Li, Shantelle Wilson, and Miranda Johnson.
Doctor Babymaker
Doctor Babymaker
The doctor is in. Every inch of him…
I’m the youngest, brightest, and most hotshot medical director the fertility clinic’s ever seen. Nothing gets between me and my job, until Ada Chase walks in.
I’m not supposed to touch her, at least, not in the way I want to. She’s off limits in so many ways. Too rich. Too innocent. Too never-been-touched.
…Too much my patient.
The sheltered young heiress is in my office so her rich, shitty family can see if she’s capable of bearing children. And I’m supposed to examine her – every inch of her sweet, tempting body –to check.
But I’ve wanted her since the instant I laid eyes on her, and now I’m obsessed, possessed, and driven like I’ve never been before.
First, I’m going to make her beg.
Second, I’ll make her mine.
And third? Well, third is the best part.
Third is me putting a baby in that soft young belly. And after that, I’ll steal her away from all of this. Fuck the medical code of conduct, forget professionalism, and damn the consequences.
Oh, Ada can bear children alright.
…so long as they’re mine.
I know what you’re thinking – this sounds like dirty, filthy doctor-fantasy smut. And if you’re thinking that, the good news is, you’re entirely correct ;). This book is hot and heavy insta-love and lust at it’s finest, with a dominant alpha hero completely obsessed with breeding and claiming his untouched heroine. Safe, no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
The doctor will see you take you now…
Chapter One
Ada
The elevator dinged, and my heart raced as I shivered.
I’d arrived.
The doors slid open, and I could feel my breath catching as I stepped out into the reception area of the clinic, my teeth chewing my bottom lip as I approached the check-in desk.
This was all wrong. You weren’t supposed to have thoughts like this about men like him. You weren’t supposed to walk into an office like this and get wet.
…Your weren’t supposed to have filthy, dirty, unstoppable fantasies about your doctor.
But then, if it was so wrong, why hadn’t I been able to stop thinking about him? Why had I spent every single second since that first time a week before burning the thought of him into my mind. I’d spent hours remembering the feel of his powerful, commanding hands on me, and the way his deep, low voice had struck something primal inside of me.
…And I’d spent every night trembling in my bed as my fingers and my fantasies wondered what could have happened, if there’d been more.
“Ms. Chase?”
I blinked, my dirty thoughts scattering as I looked do
wn at the receptionist arched brow and bemused expression.
“Everything all right, dear?”
No, I have an uncontrollable crush and the dirtiest thoughts I’ve ever had about one of your physicians.
“Oh, yes,” I said quickly, swallowing the heat from my face.
“I said you can go right in. Dr. Petite will be with you shortly.”
“Thank you.”
I said it fast, my hands tightening to nervous fists at my sides as I marched past her desk, through the big wooden double-doors, and down the hallway to the exam rooms.
Doctor Petite was not my forbidden fantasy, and thank God for that. No, those were reserved for the gorgeous, intensely sexy, hardened, panty-meltingly perfect Doctor Brody.
Doctor Jackson Brody.
Seeing him on my last visit a week before had been a mistake. And I don’t mean that like “because I regretted it” I mean that quite literally. Someone had messed up some of the doctors’ schedules, and instead of Doctor Petite, it was him who I’d had the appointment with. It’d started innocently, and I knew that the entire thing was probably in my head.
But it made no difference.
Jackson Brody — God he was gorgeous. Tall, broad shoulders, and built like a freaking Greek statue. That dark hair, like mine, and those piercing dark eyes — different from my crystal blue ones.
Those powerful, warm hands, and the way he’d touched me.
I shivered as I paused at door to Doctor Petite’s exam room.
This was ridiculous. Doctor Brody was just that, a doctor, and this was me being, well, weird. I shouldn’t have been fantasizing about my doctor. I mean, it was bad enough what happened before, during the last exam. He hadn't said anything though.
…I hope he hadn't noticed, well…that.
God I hope he hadn't.
But thankfully, even if part of me wished I was, I wasn’t seeing him today. And I probably wouldn’t ever. The scheduling issue had been fixed, and it would be pudgy, grey-haired, sixty-year-old Doctor Petite who would be examining me today to make sure I was fertile.
Yes, I did actually just say that.
I was nineteen years old, I’d barely ever even been kissed, and I was in the most expensive fertility clinic in New York City to make sure I could pop babies out.
If you want to know why, the short answer was: “because my family is insane.”
When you came from a family like mine, with the pedigree that came with it, there were certain…expectations. No, it’s not like I had an arranged marriage or something barbaric like that, but this was way worse. Definitely creepier.
You see, my parents had sent me here for these series of tests and exams to make sure I’d be able to have children. It was all part of the machine of how the rich married rich and stayed rich. My being “capable” was all part of the package, so when the time came — and it would be soon — for me to find someone of suitable equal ranking socially and economically, they’d already know there’d be no problem popping out kids.
Yeah, it’s as fucked up as it sounds.
It’s not that I was against kids, and I wasn’t, at all. I loved kids, and I’d have probably have gone into early childhood psychiatry if I’d had my way. Except, I hadn’t had my way, and studying psychology or pre-med was all wrong for a “girl like me,” or so my parents thought. No, for me, if I even went to college, it would be for something easy like English Lit. Something useless, and something to talk about at cocktail parties.
So that's why I was there — nineteen, with zero experience, seeing if I was capable of giving birth. I mean, jeez, I’d have to have sex first. I instantly blushed, thinking of Dr. Brody.
Of Jackson.
I blushed and shivered again as I stepped into the exam room and closed the door. Part of me pouted that I’d have boring Doctor Petite again. But then, at least what happened last time wouldn’t happen again.
…You know, when I’d gotten soaking wet — noticeably so — with just my panties on, right in front of Doctor Brody.
I cringed, blushing at the thought as I sat on the edge of the table, facing away from the door. The exam was really nice — not sterile and all fluorescent lights like most places. The lighting here was lowered, the floor hardwood, the furniture top of the line and beautiful.
I hope he hadn’t noticed — Jackson, that is, last week with my panties. If he had, he certainly hadn’t said anything. But just the same, a part of me was relieved to be seeing the very not-panty-wetting Doctor Petite.
I toyed with my hands, looking at them and blushing again as I replayed my schoolgirl crush on the gorgeous doctor. I’d googled him, like a total weirdo. I knew he was the head of this clinic, and had huge respect in the pre-natal and neonatal medical world. I knew he was one of the youngest doctors to ever become head of a clinic this prestigious — or any, at that. He was thirty-two, and unmarried. No girlfriend or anything either, as far as I could see from stalking his Facebook page.
I felt the heat creep up, remembering how I’d poured over the pictures on his page — him sweating and grinning after running a triathlon. Jackson looking freaking delicious in just a pair of short, perfectly fitting swim trunks, shirtless and looking like a fucking god at the beach.
…Hey, I was a virgin, but a girl has thoughts.
I remembered the late nights over the last week, panting under the covers in my bedroom as my fingers slid between my legs. I remembered whimpering into my pillow, and pretending it was his hands pushing my legs wide apart, and telling me what he was going to do to—
“Ada.”
I almost shrieked as the voice from my naughty daydream rumbled through the room, from the doorway behind me I hadn’t heard open. I froze, the blood turning to fire in my veins and my heart leaping into my throat.
That voice.
That deep, resonating, powerful voice that triggered something inside of me.
Jackson.
The voice from behind me was Doctor Brody, and when I heard him step inside and shut the door with a loud click behind him, I felt my whole body tremble.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Ada.”
Oh God.
Chapter Two
Jackson
It was the scent of her shampoo that hit me first, just like it had the last time — something subtle and floral, with a hint of citrus that drove me fucking wild. I growled to myself as I inhaled sharply, filling my senses with her as my eyes drank her in.
Fuck she was beautiful.
Even sitting facing away from me, everything about her made my cock swell in my pants — throbbing to full length between my thighs as my balls tingled. That long dark hair, unfettered and tumbling down her lithe back. Those impish shoulders, and her bare arms under the short-sleeved blouse.
…That sweet little heart-shaped ass of hers, perched on the edge of the exam table. She was wearing yoga pants — God bless yoga pants — and they hugged every sweet, tempting curve of that little peach of a butt so fucking perfectly that all it did was make my cock throb even harder.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Ada,” I purred.
And I had been. Achingly so. Going out of my fucking mind doing it. Last time had been dangerous. Last time, I’d come close to throwing my entire career away for this angel, and I would have, if she’d asked me.
But where last time had been a mistake, this time was all my own doing. This time, I’d made damn sure Roger Petite was preoccupied with other patients. Because this time, there’d be no confusion — no mistakes.
This time, she’d be mine.
Ada Chase — my fucking obsession. My all-consuming, body-engulfing lust.
First, I was going to make her beg.
Second, I was going to make her mine.
And third? Well, third was the best part.
Third was me putting a baby in that fertile young womb. And after that, she’d be mine. After that, I’d steal her away from all of this if I had to.
I’d been lost the secon
d I’d walked into this very room the last time, a week before. I’d been a goner the minute I laid eyes on her, and smelled that shampoo, and saw that impossibly sweet innocence in her eyes. She’d opened those tempting, pink lips, and I’d been lost.
Fuck the medical code of conduct. Forget professionalism. I wanted her, and since then, it’d only gotten a million times worse. Since then, she’d consumed my every thought and kept my cock hard almost for a week straight.
Since last time.
* * *
One week before:
“Nice to meet you, Doctor Brody.”
Fuck. The way my name rolled off that soft tongue and over those sweet lips had my body tingling with need. The way she flushed — her cheeks burning as she looked away, as if she were embarrassed.
I’d just introduced myself to this perfect creature, after explaining the scheduling error with Doctor Petite.