Doctor L: A Second Chance Fake Marriage Romance (Doctor's Orders Book 3)

by Lilian Monroe

  He collapses onto the desk, leaning on his arms over me. We pant, breathless, and I close my eyes as the aftershocks of my orgasm fill my veins. He’s pulsing inside me, and my body is contracting in response. It feels like our bodies are completely in sync, like we’re connected in a way I’ve never felt before. I let out a sigh and Dave lifts himself up slightly, placing a gentle kiss on my lips.

  “You enjoy that?” He breathes.

  I laugh. “A little, yeah.”

  His smile lights up his face again as he stands up. I watch him get rid of the condom and then slip his clothing back on. He looks over at me and smiles, then leans over and places a gentle kiss on my lips.

  “So that’s the marriage consummated then,” I say, grinning.

  “No going back now,” he shoots back.

  There’s definitely no going back now. I slip my panties back on and can feel that something between us has shifted. Dave wraps his arms around me and kisses me again. Something has changed, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

  Chapter 22 - Dave

  When Izzy leaves to go home I realise how big this house really is. It’s so empty when I’m here on my own. Everyone is gone or in bed and the silence is almost oppressive. I head outside to get some air and try to make sense of the day.

  I’m married. I’m married to Izzy Daniels. Not only that, I’m married to Izzy Daniels and we had sex today! It’s wrong on so many levels I don’t even know where to start.

  It may be wrong but it was the best sex I’ve ever had, no question about it. I’ve never been with a woman who felt so alive, who knew exactly where to touch me and what to say and what to do to send me straight to orgasm. She’s irresistible.

  We have a connection on a primal level that’s undeniable. But she’s Izzy Daniels. I’ve dedicated most of my adult life to cursing her existence. I’ve blamed her for the events that led to the death of my entire family.

  My grandfather’s words ring in my ears: I shouldn’t be so hard on her. I should talk to her, listen to what she has to say. How can I do that? How can I sit down across for her and talk to her about the event that changed the course of my entire life?

  For an arrangement that was supposed to be all business, this has decidedly become messier than I expected. I thought my attraction to her was carnal. I thought my attraction was simply because she’s attractive. But as I sit in the cool night air and replay the events from this afternoon I feel something in the depth of my chest. I know it was more than attraction. It was a connection.

  Crickets’ songs are ringing through the air. Dusk is my favourite time of the day, and these days as summer turns to fall the air has a bite to it. The cold makes me feel alive and I breathe deeply. I’m starting to think I’ve made a mistake. My head is screaming that I shouldn’t have done this, that it’ll end in disaster, but there’s another force pulling me towards her. I need to find out what happened to my family.

  My sister Hannah and Izzy were inseparable. Hannah was always the ringleader, she had a stronger personality. She’d drag Izzy along on all her half-baked adventures, always convincing her to do things as Izzy protested. I smile as I think of Hannah. The firecracker of the family. One time, she must have been about ten or eleven years old, she convinced Izzy to try and prank me. They rigged a big bucket of water on top of the door to her room, just like in cartoons. I remember hearing them giggling behind her door as I walked by.

  “Davey! Come in here!” I heard Hannah say to me. I remember turning towards the door, and seeing it ajar. They had an old towel laid down on the ground, and I remember thinking it was strange. I could hear Hannah giggling as she called me in again.

  I remember seeing Izzy through the open door. Her eyes were wide as she looked at me. She looked almost scared. Hannah was still laughing. I put my hand on the door and pushed it open slowly, poking my head through the doorway and slipping through as soon as the opening was big enough. I glanced at the towel and then at Hannah and saw her face fall in disappointment. Izzy looked relieved and started laughing.

  She had pointed to the bucked, balancing precariously on the top of the door. They hadn’t tilted it against the frame and I’d opened the door gently enough to leave it balancing on top.

  I was mad when I saw the bucket, but now I laugh. I laugh by myself in the back garden, my shoulders shaking up and down. I laugh until tears start streaming down my face.

  Hannah was the prankster and Izzy was her conscience. At the time I didn’t understand their friendship. Hannah was so full of life and Izzy was so quiet. They were opposites, I didn’t understand how they got along so well. A part of me always thought Hannah just treated Izzy as her little plaything.

  When I think of it now, I realise that Izzy was the calming presence, the one who brought Hannah’s feet back to the ground. I watch Izzy with Pop and I see that same quality in her now as an adult. She’s level-headed and kind. Her strength is understated yet undeniable.

  Hannah didn’t steamroll Izzy, she didn’t use her. Hannah needed Izzy. The realisation is like a wave crashing through me. Suddenly the memories start flooding back. Hannah’s temper tantrums and the way Izzy would calm her down. My sister was wild, and when Izzy was around everything got easier.

  Suddenly I know why my parents treated Izzy like their own daughter, why Hannah loved her. Everything that I couldn’t see when I was a child is making sense. Izzy wasn’t a clinger, she wasn’t weak or being used or hanging on to Hannah for whatever selfish reason.

  I take a deep breath and rub my head. I can’t believe I never realised this before. All this time, I thought Izzy was using our family, or using Hannah, trying to climb some sort of prepubescent social ladder.

  She wasn’t. She loved Hannah, and Hannah loved her.

  Hannah needed her. Their friendship was deeper than I could have realised back then. The day of the accident, Hannah and both my parents went to get Izzy. They said that they were going to pick her up and she’d stay with us for a little while. I remember being annoyed and jealous that this girl who wasn’t even part of our family was taking time and attention away from me.

  God, I must have been a brat.

  That’s when they got in an accident. Izzy’s mom crashed into them head-on and it was an instant, painless death, or at least that’s what the doctors kept telling me. And in a cruel twist of fate, Izzy was the only one to survive, so I could be reminded that her family was whole and mine was gone.

  It never made sense to me, why Izzy’s mom was going that direction, how they could have crashed the way they did. I struggle to think about it now, to remember the details. I spent so much time trying to forget that it feels strange to think about it now.

  What did Pop mean, that there was more to it than I knew? I shiver as the night’s chill starts to get to me. I guess I’m going to need to ask Izzy about this myself.

  Chapter 23 - Izzy

  I’m not sure I’ll sleep tonight. The ceiling is staring back at me and suddenly I see all the stains and cracks that mar it. I study them with intense fascination, trying to keep my mind from wandering back to him.

  When I left the house for the night it almost looked like he wanted to ask me to stay. He didn’t, but it looked like he wanted to. Or maybe that’s a delusion of my wishful mind. Maybe he was relieved when I left.

  I wish I could talk to someone about this. Besides the non-disclosure clause, I’m not sure there’s anyone I would trust with this kind of thing. How could I explain it and know that it would be met without judgement? For the millionth time, I wish Hannah was still around. She understood me and loved me for me.

  I can’t make sense of these feelings. I know I shouldn’t have slept with Dave, but I can’t bring myself to regret it. It was too raw, too passionate, too real to regret. My bed feels cold and lonely tonight and all I can think about is tomorrow and seeing him again.

  Is he thinking of me right now?

  I sigh. I need to get a grip. I k
now this line of thinking isn’t healthy. He told me himself this marriage was just business. But today, it didn’t seem like business. It seemed like the very opposite of business.

  But you know what, maybe that was just sex to him. Who am I kidding, of course it was. I’m letting my imagination run away with me. We got carried away with the whole marriage thing, we slept together. Then I left. Tomorrow is a new day and I’ll go back to work. That happened while I was at work! If my bosses found out I’d be fired on the spot.

  No, I can’t tell anyone about this and I certainly shouldn’t pursue it.

  We’ll be married, but it won’t matter. I’ll have a hundred grand in my bank account and I can take Jess to see Cirque du Soleil and start her college fund. I can pay our rent and electricity without worrying about our next meal. That’s what’s important.

  Still, it’s been so long since someone touched me like that, or looked at me like that. Even the thought of it now makes my body ache with desire. I can still feel his hands on me, like my skin has been etched by his touch. My body remembers the way it felt to have him inside me. Now it feels like something is missing. I’m empty.

  At some point I fall into a fitful sleep. I wake up and rub the tiredness out of my eyes, getting ready for another day.

  I’m nervous, I realise as I’m putting on my uniform. I tie my hair back as usual, but pay a little more attention than usual to how I look. I put on some makeup before heading out towards the kitchen.

  “Woo-woo!” Jess calls out. “Looking good Iz, what’s going on? Who are you trying to impress?”

  My cheeks flush and I wave my hand at her. I can’t believe my eleven year-old little sister is making me feel so embarrassed.

  “I wear makeup for myself, Jess,” I say with an eyebrow raised. Today just happens to be the day after I get married to the man I’ve had a crush on since I was four years old. And we happened to sleep together right after getting married. Standard.

  “Well you look nice,” Jess says with a smile. “Let’s go!”

  We walk to school and I listen quietly, trying to focus on what my sister is telling me. My thoughts always drift back to Dave. There’s an excitement in the pit of my stomach when I think of him. I can’t wait to see him, to smell that spicy piney scent of his and watch the way he moves. My excitement only grows as I make my way to the big house on Long Island.

  I drive up to my usual parking space and start the long walk up the driveway. Dave’s car isn’t where he usually parks it and I frown. I walk up to the front door and using my set of keys to go inside. The night shift nurse looks at me with relief.

  “Long night,” she says, “can’t wait to get out of here.” I smile tightly and nod as she hands over her notes from the shift. Just another day at work, I tell myself.

  The house is deathly quiet and as the nurse opens the front door I turn to her.

  “What about D - what about the son? Is he home?”

  My heart beats as she frowns slightly. “The son? No, no he left this morning. He had a bag with him, I’m not sure where he was going. Why?”

  I force another smile. “No reason, just wondering” I reply and she walks out the door. She closes the big front door behind her and it slams shut with finality. I can almost feel it closing in my bones.

  I look at her notes and try to focus on my work. That’s why I’m here: I’m her to take care of Arthur. But still, Dave leaving is unsettling.

  My stomach drops and I feel like the house is colder than usual. I look up and down the hallway and I feel so incredibly alone. Why wouldn’t he tell me he was leaving? Or at least send me a text? It’s not like he’s obligated to tell me. I’m his wife but it’s not like we’re in a relationship but, but…

  My chest tightens and I take a deep breath. I obviously made a mistake yesterday and it’s time to refocus on my job.

  Sex is sex, and work is work.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out quickly, almost frantically. Surely that’s Dave telling me where he’s gone?

  It’s not him, it’s a notification from my bank: a deposit of $100,000 has been made in my account. I look away from my phone and try to ignore the disappointment that overwhelms me.

  Somehow it doesn’t feel good to see that money. I don’t feel the relief or excitement I felt when I first thought of what the money could do for Jess and I. It feels cold and heartless and clinical and dirty. Yesterday, the way Dave looked at me and touched me, the way he said my name and the way his body felt when it was on top of mine, it’s all been reduced to an automatic notification from my bank.

  I blink back the tears from my eyes and square my shoulders. I have a job to do. It’s almost time to take Arthur’s vitals, and I need to make sure everything is in order. I put my phone back in my pocket and turn towards the back of the house, walking with purpose towards my little desk in the kitchen.

  Sex is sex, and work is work.

  Chapter 24 - Dave

  I’m not sure why I left. I just woke up and the house seemed as empty as ever. I knew Izzy would be on her way and I felt like I couldn’t face her, not for the whole day. Not after yesterday and the thousand and one thoughts that are buzzing around my head. The accident, the wedding, the sex… this is all turning into exactly what I was trying to avoid: a mess.

  I walk into work and see Elliot raise his eyebrows.

  “’Didn’t think you were coming in this month!”

  I grin. “Couldn’t stay away,” I reply. Either that, or I couldn’t stay where I was.

  “People always think they want time off work until they take time off work,” Elliot says. I laugh and walk past him to my office. It’s just as I left it. Papers are stacked haphazardly all over my desk and my bookshelf is bursting with books. I’ve never been a very organised person.

  I sit down in my seat and take a deep breath.

  My computer is booting up when I hear a knock on the door. It’s Elliot’s wife, Emma. She runs the accounts for the practice.

  “Hey, Emma,” I say with a smile.

  “Hi Davey,” she replies. “How’s your grandfather?”

  “He’s…” I pause, trying to find the right word. “He’s old,” I finally say.

  She nods. “You don’t have to be here you know.” She’s staring at me with those deep brown eyes and I know she sees that I’m not in my usual happy-go-lucky mood. Her curly brown head is tilted to the side as she studies me. I nod.

  “I know. I want to be here, to get my mind off things.”

  “I get that.” She pauses, studying me. “You know, I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through. When my mother died, I thought I’d never recover. It took me a long, long time to realise that I wasn’t alone.” She pauses, looking at me again. “You know you’re not alone, right Dave?”

  I grin. “If I am, it’s by choice.”

  She laughs and then her smile fades. “Don’t shut yourself off from people, Davey. You have lots of people that care about you. We’re here for you, ok.”

  She stands up, smoothing her fitted dress down before turning towards the door. She pauses, looking back at me. “You can stay here for a few hours but be back at your grandfather’s place by dinnertime, you hear me?”

  It’s my turn to laugh. “Alright, alright,” I concede, still grinning.

  “Don’t run away from the things that scare you, Davey. Oh and also - “ she pauses again before continuing. “We’re having a dinner party at my place on Saturday. Just close friends, Elliot and I, Clay and Val. We’d love it if you came.”

  “I’ll have to check if I have any plans already, but thanks for the invitation.” I know I don’t have any plans, but being a fifth wheel at a dinner party doesn’t sound like a great Saturday night to me.

  “Bring a date! I’m making a roast.”

  “Val’s making a roast, you mean?”

  Emma laughs. “There will be a roast,” she says, correcting herself. I smile
.

  “Alright, thanks Em.”

  She nods and leaves the office, closing the door behind her. I sigh. It would probably do me good to get out of that house. I haven’t seen my best friend Clay in weeks. I should probably go. Bring a date, she said. How about a wife? Can I bring a wife? I groan and rub my eyes. This isn’t getting any easier.

  I put my elbows on the desk and rest my forehead in my hands. I just can’t seem to process this whole situation.

  It was supposed to be business. A cold, calculated agreement between two parties for our mutual benefit. It was supposed to be emotionless.

  But yesterday…. Yesterday wasn’t emotionless. I feel my cock twitch in my pants as I think of Izzy on my desk with her legs resting on my shoulders. I wish she was here on my desk right now and I could eat her out just like I did then. I can still taste her on my lips, that sweet saltiness of her desire.

  I shouldn’t have left before she got there this morning. I should have at least waited to see her. She must think I’m running from her.

  I sigh. I am running from her. I was running from her this morning. Why else would I come to work when I cancelled all my appointments for the month and told them they wouldn’t see me! And a few days later here I am, sitting at my desk doing zero work and thinking about the woman I’ve left at home.

  Is this what it feels like to care about someone? Just constantly thinking about her and wondering what she’s thinking and if she felt what I felt? If it is, it’s exhausting.

  It’s a horrible feeling. I’ve felt off-balance since the day she walked into Pop’s living room, like the whole world is permanently tilted and I have to readjust my entire life around it.

  I lean back in my chair and my hand drifts over my crotch. My cock jumps towards it. I take that back - it’s not a horrible feeling. It’s actually pretty damn good feeling, knowing she’s there and knowing she wanted me as much as I wanted her. It’s a fucking great feeling being inside her and tasting her and smelling her and hearing her say my name. Having her look at me the way she did yesterday made my whole world shift. It’s a great feeling watching her laugh or seeing the way she cares about Pop. It’s a great feeling when she looks at me like I’m the only person on the planet.