Doctor's Delight

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Doctor's Delight Page 2

by Angela Verdenius


  “Glad to hear it…for the fiftieth time.”

  “If you got it, brag about it.”

  “Forget her.” Susie waved her hand at Maxie. “Cherry, I have the answer to your problems.”

  “And that is what?”

  “You need to hire an escort.”

  “For what? To go to a dance?”

  “No, dingbat. A male escort. A male…”

  “Yes? What?”

  “Male prostitute, or for a subtler term, a male escort,” Maxie explained.

  “A male escort?” Cherry couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you kidding me? A male escort?”

  Susie nodded eagerly.

  “You reckon I should hire a male prostitute?”

  Maxie frowned. “I don’t think she’s taking this very well.”

  Cherry stared at her. “Max. A male prostitute? I mean…Maxie!”

  Leaning back on the sofa, Susie plucked the book from Cherry’s lap and started reading. “What have we here? Oh yeah, saucy love scene hotting up. ‘He touched her, smearing her moistness over her clit, finding the—’”

  “Give me that!” Plucking the book from Susie’s hand, Cherry tucked it behind her under the cushion. “And explain your suggestion to me.”

  She still couldn’t quite believe she’d heard correctly. Mainly because she’d entertained that idea herself a couple of times. Like in the middle of the night. Entertained, but not seriously. Sort of.

  Hearing one of her best friends suggest it…

  “Tell me.” Susie held up the remote control. “What were you doing with this while reading that sex scene?”

  “Turning off the TV.”

  Maxie sniggered.

  “Forget the remote.” Cherry folded her arms. “Male escort?”

  “Hey, I thought it was a stupid idea, too,” Maxie said. “But just listen. It doesn’t half sound bad, which is a huge shock, coming from Susie the Mole.”

  “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you who has just been shagged and was brazen enough to brag about it to us.”

  “The male escort?” Cherry probed, knowing that if she didn’t interrupt the two girls would go off on their own tangent.

  “Oh yeah.” Susie grinned. “Why don’t you just hire a male escort for the night?”

  “Oh.” Cherry pursed her lips. “Hire one for the night, huh? Are you crazy?”

  “Not at all. Cherry, you’re the one who’s unhappy with being thirty five and a virgin.”

  “Wrong!” Cherry scowled. “Thirty five I can handle. A virgin…it’s not the virginity, Susie, it’s…it’s…” She searched for the words.

  Maxie took pity on her. “Being held, kissed, and made love to?”

  Cherry sighed. “You heard every word I said to the cats, didn’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  Susie raised her brows. “You can’t find a man to do that, so hire one to do it.”

  “Damn, that’s cold,” Maxie retorted when Cherry could only stare at her friend.

  “Bare facts, Maxie.” Susie shrugged. “This is not the time for sweetness.”

  “You’re not kidding,” Cherry finally managed. “Stick the knife in a little deeper, why don’t you?”

  Susie refused to be embarrassed. Instead, her expression was determined. “Cherry, you’re a grown woman. This is no time to be modest. You want what no man has yet given to you. Why not buy it?”

  “How desperate do you think I am?” Cherry snapped.

  “I thought you were looking at Ducks Arse a little hungrily the other day.”

  “I’d call that by-passing desperate.” Maxie shuddered.

  Cherry glared at her.

  “Now think about it,” Susie said. “A lot of professional women hire male escorts. They’re busy, they don’t have time for relationships. They hire a male for a few hours, get that companionship—”

  “Have a bloody good shag,” Maxie interrupted.

  “Have a kiss and cuddle and make love,” Susie finished. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “What could possibly be right with it?” Cherry demanded. She couldn’t believe she was hearing this idea.

  “Everything,” Susie replied. “You can ask for the kind of bloke that makes your panties wet. Short haired, dark-haired, long-haired, blue eyes, well-built.”

  “Well hung,” Maxie added.

  “Hung like a horse.” Susie nodded. “You can hire your dream lover for a few hours or the whole damned night.”

  Cherry shook her head. “Look, I really don’t—”

  “Yes, you do.” Susie had a small smile on her face. “They’re expert at their jobs, they don’t care about your build or anything. Their job is to please you. You, Cherry. You can have that closeness.”

  “I don’t think it’s quite the same.”

  “It’s what you want. Kissing, holding, love making.”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Cherry stared back at her two friends, who looked right back at her.

  “Diseases?’ she finally suggested weakly.

  “Health checked. Condoms.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Have your own supply in,” Maxie said. “Besides, you have no guarantee with any bloke nowadays.”

  “What about Ben?”

  “Ben’s been around, trust me. A lot of blokes have.”

  “And women,” Susie added.

  “You’d know,” Maxie said. “Listen to Susie the Mole, Cherry.”

  “Up yours.” Susie gave Maxie the finger.

  “Charming.”

  Cherry shook her head. “Look, I know you’re trying to help but I’m not so sure this is a good idea.”

  “Come on, what else could you possibly object to?”

  “How about someone finding out?” That was something of which Cherry couldn’t stand the thought. “What if my sister and brother-in-law found out? Good God, what if my parents found out?”

  “Male escorts are discreet.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Susie pursed her lips, then shrugged. “Oh, bugger it. I’ve hired a male escort before.”

  Cherry and Maxie stared at her.

  “You what?” Cherry’s mouth fell open. “You?”

  “Hey, I was in-between relationships and I was lonely. I only wanted a bit of companionship, pretty much what you want.” She crossed her legs nonchalantly. “That’s why I’m in the position to give you this information.”

  Cherry stared at her. Susie was beautiful, with thick blonde hair, big blue eyes and an hour-glass figure. She had men panting over her wherever she went. And she’d hired a male escort?

  “Don’t look so shocked.” Susie grinned. “I got what I wanted. A well-hung, good-looking male who catered to my every whim. My every whim. I hired him about five times in two weeks, and he was worth it.”

  “Would you hire him again?” Maxie asked in fascinated curiosity.

  “If I didn’t have a boyfriend?” Susie thought to herself. “Well, sure, if I felt like it.”

  “Felt like it?”

  “Horny. Like Cherry.”

  “Hey!” Cherry scowled. “I am not horny.”

  “Honey, you’re a thirty-five year old virgin with sex on your mind. Trust me, you’re horny.”

  “Shit.”

  Maxie laughed.

  “So, how about it?” Susie asked. “Male escort?”

  “Well, I don’t know.”

  “Take what you want, or wait another thirty five years.”

  “I’ll have cobwebs by then.”

  “You won’t remember what it’s for by then, you mean,” Maxie corrected.

  Cherry looked at her. “Have you ever hired a male escort?”

  “No. But then, I have Ben.”

  “Well, what about before Ben?”

  “I had other boyfriends.”

  “What if you hadn’t had other boyfriends?” Cherry persisted. “What if you didn’t have Ben?”


  “Well…yeah, I’d think about it.” Maxie’s cheeks pinkened.

  “There you go!” Susie said triumphantly. “Let’s get you a male escort.”

  “What? No!” Cherry shook her head.

  “Come on, then. Hypothetically, who would you ask for?” Maxie queried.

  “Maxie—”

  “Hypothetically. I’d ask for a man in his early twenties, short brown hair, built like a brick dunny.”

  “How romantic.” Susie pulled a face. “I’d ask for an older man, more experienced. Black hair. Lean but strong.”

  Maxie looked expectantly at Cherry.

  “What?” Cherry was feeling a little flustered.

  “Who would you hire as your pleasure machine?”

  Pleasure machine? It sort of had a tantalizing ring to it. “Well…”

  “Yes?” Susie and Maxie looked eagerly at her.

  “Well, I guess I’d ask for a man with long dark hair, but it has to be neat and clean.”

  “Of course.” Susie shuddered. “Dirty and dishevelled - yuck”

  “Strong features. Piercing eyes. Full lips, but masculine, you know?” Cherry warmed up as she thought of her dream man. “I’d want him to be well-built. Some good muscle on him.”

  “Gotta have muscle.” Maxie nodded.

  “Tall. Big hands.”

  “All the better to cup you with, my dear.” Susie winked.

  Cherry grinned. “Big enough to cup me with. Long fingers.”

  “Oh yeah.” Maxie slid down off the armrest to sprawl on the sofa. “Long fingers for stroking. Sure fingers.”

  “I think I’m getting wet.” Susie muttered.

  Cherry could picture him in her mind. “Long, strong legs.”

  “You’re right into the long and strong, aren’t you?” Maxie sighed dreamily.

  “Yeah.” Cherry moistened her lips. “He’d be a real stallion in bed.”

  “I may have to go home and jump Ben.”

  They sat in silence for several minutes. Cherry thought about her dream man. She could hire one like him. Hire her dream man to make love to her, touch her, kiss her…

  “One phone call, Cherry.” It was almost as though Susie could read her mind. “One phone call and your dream man could be right here instead of us.”

  “Virginity gone.” Maxie snapped her fingers. “Kiss, cuddle, mad monkey sex.”

  Cherry looked at them. “Hey, I’m not picking up the phone now to hire an escort.”

  Maxie sighed. “I told you she wouldn’t go for it.”

  “Not straight away, but maybe later.” Susie’s eyes twinkled. “Now you have the idea, girlfriend, you can stew on it all night.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “You have time.” Susie stood up. “The rest of your life, in fact.”

  “Yeah.” Maxie unfolded her slim length from the sofa. “Just don’t leave it too long or your vagina will rust up.”

  “You are so vulgar sometimes.” Cherry stood up also.

  Susie patted her shoulder. “Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Not.

  Susie looked closely at her, a funny little expression on her face. Then she nodded. “Well, gotta go and by some groceries for tea. Catch you at work tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  Standing on the veranda, Cherry saw her friends off and then stood staring out at the garden. Hire a male escort? Ridiculous. There was no way she could hire a male escort.

  Could she?

  Going inside, she shut the door with a decisive snap, but her movements back into the lounge were slow. Picking up the romance novel, she looked at the cover.

  The hero and heroine entwined in a heated embrace. Something she’d never experienced in her life.

  Their job is to please you. You, Cherry. You can have that closeness. Susie’s words echoed in her mind.

  Going into the bedroom, she looked at herself in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was short, plus-sized, an over-blown hourglass. She had nice hair, thick and brown and bouncy, and her eyes were pretty, so she’d been told. Not quite blue or green, just a shade between each, outlined with thick black lashes. But there was nothing remarkable about her face.

  She was plain in a pretty way, or pretty in a plain way, however you looked at it.

  Cherry sighed, a wave of longing going through her.

  No man had ever found her pretty enough to pursue. To kiss and hold and want to take to his bed. But a male escort… Their job is to please you. You, Cherry. You can have that closeness.

  Frizz meowing around her legs made her look down and she smiled sadly. “Yeah, maybe if I had the guts, Frizz, I would do it. But I’m not like Susie. I can’t pay a man to make love to me.”

  That night in bed, her dream man invaded her dreams once again, and she awoke in the morning with the familiar yearning of just wanting to wake up in a man’s arms.

  How bloody pathetic. Scowling, she got out of bed and went into the shower.

  As the warm water sluiced the soap from her body, the now familiar words went through her. Their job is to please you. You, Cherry. You can have that closeness.

  Now

  And now here she was, three days later with an appointment to meet a man in a hotel, a man who would see to her every desire. Who would kiss her, cuddle her, and make love to her.

  A man she’d paid to do all that, so how real was it?

  Cherry looked at her reflection in the window glass. As real as she’d probably ever get. “Looks like you’ve got a date with sex.”

  Chapter Two

  Rick looked around the gathering with jaded eyes. The same kind of crowd. The GPs, both those up-and-coming and the established, the surgeons, and their wives and girlfriends. The wives were dressed expensively but discreetly, the epitome of good taste, while the girlfriends hung onto every word their boyfriends uttered. Apart from a couple of women whom he knew genuinely loved their boyfriends, the other couple he was sure were in it for the money and prestige. Ah, to be the wife of a general practioner, or even better, a surgeon.

  And one of those barracudas was heading right for him. Annabelle, tall, slim, and gorgeous with her blonde hair up in an elegant chignon and her make-up perfect. Diamonds glittered in her earlobes. Her bright blue-eyed gaze was fixed on him, and her laughter was light and gay as she came to a stop before him and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, barely brushing his skin. Her perfume was expensive, just like the woman herself.

  “Richard,” she cooed. “How delightful of you to come.”

  “Rick, please.”

  “Rick.” Gaze sweeping over his face, she took his arm. “And how are you finding our little city, Rick?”

  “Lovely. It’s why I chose to come here.”

  “Of course you did.” Reaching out, she picked up a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and handed it to him before taking one for herself. “And how are you settling in?”

  “Fine. I start work next week, quite looking forward to it.”

  “Ah yes. Your own practice, wasn’t it?”

  “No.” Rick noted Annabelle’s father glance over towards them and smile widely. Obviously he’d noticed his barracuda of a daughter zeroing in for a bite and approved. Rick looked back at Annabelle, meeting her gaze squarely. In spiked heels, she matched his six foot two inches admirably. She was one tall woman. “I’m in the Hallery Practice.”

  “That’s right.” She made a little moue of her red lip sticked mouth. “You do have plans to start your own practice one day, though?”

  The Barracuda was circling, weighing up her prey. Rick smiled slightly. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” One elegant brow, plucked painfully thin, arched.

  “I’ll see how I go, check out the competition.” Oh-ho, The Barracuda liked that term all right. “Find my feet.”

  “Delightful plan.” Taking a sip of her champagne, she glanced around. “Let me introduce you around.”

 
And so went the evening. Rick smiled, shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, all the things one should do when coming into an established circle of professionals, most of whom he’d be working with at some time. He wouldn’t have minded so much if The Barracuda wasn’t listening intently to his answers to everyone’s questions. No doubt she was mentally notching up her approval and disapproval on a mental scoreboard. The final score would dictate if she’d come after him hungrily or drop him like the proverbial hot brick.

  He tried several times to politely veer away from her, but no, each time Annabelle clutched his elbow and chattered away brightly to all and sundry. Prying her off with a crowbar was the only thing that would work and, unfortunately, not actually be considered polite.

  Damn it.

  “Hey! Rick!”

  It was with relief that Rick watched his old school friend approach in his gangly, long-legged stride. “Tim. How are you?”

  “Doin’ well, mate. How about you?” Tim shook his hand vigorously.

  Annabelle eyed him with her top lip slightly curled. Not enough to be noticed by anyone except Tim, who leered back at her, and Rick when he glanced sideways.

  Amused, Rick introduced them. “Annabelle, meet my oldest friend, Tim Clarke. Tim, this is Annabelle Forbes.”

  “Daughter of the General Surgeon, Peter Forbes.” Annabelle smiled coldly and shook Tim’s hand limply.

  Grinning widely, Tim pumped her hand up and down energetically. “Of course. Ol’ Pete’s offspring. Wouldn’t expect that sour-faced old bastard to have such a stunning kid, but then again, I expect his sperm can cause many surprises if we studied them closely.”

  Rick grinned.

  Annabelle didn’t miss a beat. “Are you, by any chance, in the sexual health field, Timothy?”

  “Vet, actually.” Tim’s smile only got wider. “Depends what I’m up to at the time. Oh, get it?” He nudged Rick and guffawed loudly. “Sex field and up to?”

  “You have real wit,” Rick said dryly.

  Annabelle looked at Rick like she was mentally wiping shit off her shoes. Obviously he’d scored really badly. What a shame.

  “I do believe,” she said coldly, “That my father wants me.”

  “Really?” Tim peered over at the cluster of surgeons who were importantly – and loudly - discussing the current trend of lap banding. “He seems involved in something already.”

 

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