Mr. Doctor - A Hot Doctor Romance (Mr Series - Book #1)

by Ivy Jordan

  “Have you bought a new bra recently?” he asked.

  I was confused. “A new bra?” I asked.

  “Yes. Women with large breasts often wear under wires. They can slip out from the material and cause this type of abrasion,” he explained.

  I nodded, slipping the gown back up to hide my breast. My nipple was so hard it ached, and the temperature in the room was a little warm, so my cheeks had to be bright red with embarrassment by now.

  “May I?” he asked, motioning to the pile of clothes on the chair.

  I nodded again.

  He lifted the clothes, separating them until he found my bra. He opened it up, examined it thoroughly, and then smiled as he handed it to me. “Here. The wire is working out from under the material just on that side.”

  “You do have a mole. The redness and slight swelling was just from the irritation,” he explained.

  I was relieved that I wasn’t going to die, or need to have my breast lopped off, but extremely embarrassed for having needed him to explain the hazards of bra-wearing to me. “Just buy a new bra, preferably one without an underwire. You don’t need it,” he said.

  My nipples perked up even harder at his compliment.

  “So, who was your doctor before?” he asked. Oh God, small talk. I hated small talk when the doctor had my legs spread wide open.

  “I moved here from Sacramento. Well, back here.”

  “Oh, yeah? Why were you gone?” he asked as he slipped on a pair of white exam gloves.

  “I was in school,” I said, watching him carefully prepare for my exam. His blue eyes were familiar, but it took me a minute to place them. Randy, my surfing instructor from when I was a kid. They didn’t look anything alike, aside from the same deep color of blue in their eyes.

  “Go ahead and lie back on the table,” he instructed.

  His hands tugged my gown away from my breasts, exposing them both this time. My nipples were about to explode with excitement as his fingers rolled around the tissue of my breast, first the left, then the right. “What did you go to school for?” he asked.

  “Nursing,” I said, still hating that I had to talk at all. I wanted to close my eyes—not look at this beautiful man—and pretend this wasn’t happening.

  “Fantastic. The world needs more dedicated nurses,” he said with a smile, carefully covering my breasts back up with the gown.

  He gripped the lube from the small table and smiled as he moved to the end of the table where my legs were still clenched together at the knees. He patted my knee gently, smiled, and then cleared his throat.

  “I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible,” he said gently.

  My legs relaxed a bit, but I could still feel the tension as he pushed them apart. He squirted a small amount of the gel onto his index finger, and then it disappeared. I felt it slide inside my pussy, pushing deep into me as his free hand pushed hard on my pelvis. I’d had this part of the exam every time I visited a gynecologist, but when Dr. Andrews did it, it somehow felt dirty, exciting, and sexual. Oh God, I am never coming back here again!

  “So, I guess you’re glad to be back home,” he said, pulling his gloves off and tossing them into the trash.

  “Yes. I missed my family,” I said, turning my head not to watch as he pulled open the drawer beneath my table. I heard the slap of another set of gloves going on, and then a loud squirt from the tube of gel. “I need you to scoot to the edge of the table,” he instructed.

  I followed orders, but refused to open my eyes. His hand gently patted my ass cheek when I made it to the edge. “That’s good,” he said.

  “Are you sexually active?” he asked, sliding the speculum into my body. He was gentle, I’d give him that, but it still made me jump a little.

  “Relax,” he said softly, pushing it in just a bit further.

  “No,” I said.

  “No partner?” he asked.

  “No,”

  “But, you are on birth control?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  Why the hell do we have to talk about this now?

  Finally, he pulled the speculum out, wiped it down, and then wiped me, another thing that made me jump a little.

  “Always good to be prepared. Are you happy with the birth control you have now, or do you want to try something different?” he asked.

  “I’m happy,” I said, just wanting to get my vagina out of his face.

  “You can scoot up,” he said.

  I scooted up on the table, sitting up and trying my best to keep my private parts covered. “Go ahead and get dressed, and I’ll have the nurse escort you to my office,” he said before leaving the room.

  My heart was pounding hard against my chest. That was the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and he has to be my gynecologist?

  I wiped myself clean and quickly got dressed, finishing right as the nurse entered the exam room. I followed her down the hallway to a large red door. She tapped on it, peeked in, and then motioned for me to go on inside.

  Dr. Andrews was sitting behind a large desk, shuffling papers around as I entered. He looked up, smiled, and motioned at the seat in front of his desk. The nurse shut the door, leaving us alone together. My pussy was still pulsating, but my body began to tense up as I worried he was about to give me bad news.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Everything looked great. I’ll of course need to send the cultures out for examination, but I just like to get to know my patients,” he said sweetly.

  Andrews. Randy Andrews. That was the name of my first crush. The surfing instructor. “Do you have a brother named Randy?” I blurted out.

  His face grew a little pale and his lips tightened. “Yes. I did,” he said calmly.

  “Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize,” I said quickly, feeling like an ass for bringing it up.

  “No. Don’t be sorry. He passed away when he was a teenager, it’s been years now,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness. “How did you know Randy?” he asked.

  “He taught me to surf when I was a kid,” I said, feeling a lump in my throat grow.

  “That’s something I never learned to do,” Dr. Andrews said fondly.

  “Maybe I can teach you,” I said, feeling the strength I’d found from the article I read while waiting.

  “I’d really like that,” he said.

  My strength was dying down as I realized this was my opening to ask him out. It wouldn’t be like a real date. It’d be just surfing lessons, and possibly reminiscing about his brother. You can do this, Claire.

  “How about this weekend?” I asked boldly.

  His hand lifted to his chin. He had a five o’clock shadow that only seemed to add to his charm and good looks. “I’d love to,” he said with a warm smile.

  He pulled out a business card from his desk, turned it over, and then scribbled on it. “Here,” he said, handing me the card. It had his name, Elijah, on the back, along with a phone number.

  “That’s my personal cell. I have your number,” he grinned.

  Yes, you have my number, and you also have the memory of what my pussy looks like. Why did I ask him out? What was I thinking?

  His blue eyes batted slowly as he pushed back from his desk. Oh, yeah—that’s why. He’s so damn sexy.

  He stood, extending his hand. “I’ll call you this evening to set something up after I take a look at my calendar,” he said quickly.

  I shook his hand, but it felt different from when he first introduced himself to me. His grip was looser, his thumb slid across mine slowly, and it lingered for longer than a professional handshake. “I look forward to it,” I said, quickly breaking eye contact before I accidentally leaned in and kissed his full lips.

  Is this a date?

  Chapter Three

  I met Caroline for dinner. Her precious Todd was away on business, somewhere in Europe. As we waited for our appetizers and drinks to arrive, I was ready to burst at the seams from keeping my secret d
ate a secret. What if he doesn’t call? I didn’t want to tell her and then look like a fool. Was I supposed to call him? That author in the magazine that I read in his lobby would certainly say yes, but I had my doubts.

  “So, why are you so quiet?” she asked.

  It was impossible to keep a secret from Caroline. She could always sniff out anything I tried to hide from her. “No reason,” I said, trying to continue with my sneakiness.

  Her eyes narrowed, and her lips tightened. She stared at me intensely, as if she were trying to read my thoughts. “Oh, no, there’s a reason. But why don’t you want to tell me?” she asked, almost as if to herself and not to me.

  I giggled. It was uncontrollable when I was lying, or trying to. “What is with you?” I laughed.

  “It’s not what’s with me, it’s what’s with you,” she said curiously.

  The waiter came and dropped off two fruity cocktails with fruit garnishes and a tray of bruschetta and sundried tomatoes with large hunks of mozzarella. I was starving, but more importantly, I wanted to avoid answering my nosy sister’s questions.

  I picked up a piece of the olive oil and garlic-soaked bread and started creating my topping. Caroline’s eyes were on me, even though I wouldn’t turn to look at her, I could feel them burning through my skin. “Spill it,” she demanded as I shoved the delicious bite into my mouth.

  I shrugged my shoulders, lifted my eyebrows, and motioned to my full mouth. She smirked, leaned back in her seat, sipped her drink, and waited for me to finish chewing. I prolonged it as much as possible, but eventually had to swallow.

  “It’s a man,” she said quickly.

  My face turned bright red. “Not really,” I said.

  “Who?” she asked.

  Her enthusiasm was over the top, as usual. She’d been waiting for the day for me to meet Mr. Right. All she could talk about since the say Todd proposed was finding me a man. “A double wedding,” she’d suggested one night after too many drinks. She never brought it up again, and neither did I. Caroline Carson couldn’t share her day with anyone, not even her sister, and not even if Mr. Right walked through that door right now.

  “Just someone I met,” I said, not wanting to get into how. The fact he’d already seen me in stirrups, with my vag up close and personal, was enough embarrassment for one day. Besides, he still may not call.

  “How did you meet him?” she pushed.

  “Do you remember Randy, the surf instructor?” I asked, quickly diverting the topic.

  “The one you were in love with? Oh my God, is it him?” she squealed.

  “His brother,” I said with a smile.

  “Wow,” she gasped, and then took a large swig of her drink. “How’s that gonna work at family get-togethers? When you marry him and are secretly in love with his brother?” she asked with a laugh.

  “Randy died when he was a teenager,” I said, sorrowful.

  “How?” Caroline gasped.

  “He didn’t say.”

  That was a question on my mind, but I didn’t want to push. “When are you going to see him again?” she asked.

  “Well, we haven’t actually been out yet,” I said. “But, he’s supposed to call tonight to set up a surfing lesson for this weekend,” I gloated.

  “He’s an instructor too?” she asked, somewhat less interested and excited as she had been before.

  “No, he’s a doctor. I’m teaching him,” I said proudly.

  She laughed. “You were like seven years old, maybe eight.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I still practiced after that. I surfed in high school,” I insisted.

  “Not very well,” she scoffed.

  I laughed with her, realizing I made a date with this man, and had absolutely no way to teach him anything about surfing. Hopefully, that isn’t the only reason he wants to see me.

  “We’re still doing family dinner night Saturday, right?” she asked, suddenly realizing me having a life may interfere with her having one while Todd was away.

  “Of course,” I agreed.

  Surfing was a daytime thing, so even if he said Saturday, I’d have time to at least order take out for dinner.

  “Dad so looks forward to getting out of the nursing home for those nights,” she said sadly.

  I gripped my drink and sipped through the thin straw. I didn’t want to think about my dad in that place. Even though he seemed to like it, I hated him being there. His brain was still pretty sharp at times, but others, it was like a ball of chewed up bubble gum. Right before I’d left for college I started noticing the signs, but refused to admit it until Caroline caught him in the backyard watering the spot in the yard where our mother always planted a garden. It was grown over with grass, no signs of the perfect rows of vegetables and herbs she used to grow. When he started taking walks, and even hopping on the city bus, only to end up lost, it had been time to talk about a nursing home. Todd had plenty of money, and offered to keep him at his place with round-the-clock care, but dad was too proud.

  We finished our drinks and our appetizers, and then both said our goodbyes. I drove home thinking Elijah wasn’t going to call at all. I was silly to think he would.

  I stripped down, tossed on my comfy sleep pants and tank top, and flopped onto the couch with the remote in my hand. I browsed for a movie, something girly and mushy, but kept a watchful eye on my phone. The little light that would flash at the top of the screen to let me know I’d received a text never lit up. Dammit!

  Half-way through Hope Floats, my eyes were growing heavy and I knew I had to be at work early in the morning, so I shut the TV off, and grabbed my phone. As I walked to my bedroom it vibrated in my hand, causing my heart to jump and then pound hard in my chest. The screen was lit up, the number I’d memorized on the back of the business card Dr. Andrews had given me earlier displayed. “Hello,” I answered, trying my best not to sound too sleepy, or too eager.

  “Claire?” he asked curiously, as if any woman would ever give him the wrong number.

  “Yes, this is Claire,” I said, still pretending to not know who was calling.

  “This is Elijah. Dr. Andrews. I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said.

  There was no part of me that wanted him to know how boring my life was, that I’d be going to sleep at nine o’clock, even if that was exactly what I was doing. “Of course not. I was just… uh, doing some paper work,” I said quickly.

  I rustled the papers on my desk, mostly bills and newspapers from where I tried to find a nursing job. “Great. So, I have some bad news,” he said calmly.

  Here it is. Of course, you don’t want to date someone who’s vag you already been in…

  “I don’t have a weekend afternoon free,” he said.

  “I understand,” I said quickly, ready to get off the phone and have my misery ended.

  “But, I do have Saturday night free,” he said.

  My heart skipped a beat or two, and once it started beating again, it was sporadic and strong. “Saturday night surfing?” I chuckled.

  “I was thinking more of dinner? We could talk, get to know one another better, maybe even share stories about Randy,” he said.

  “That would be great,” I agreed, and then quickly realized I had plans for family dinner Saturday night.

  “Can we do it at my place? I’ll cook.” I responded.

  “Yes. Just text me the address and time,” he said.

  I debated on telling him about the other guests, but decided not to. Dad always had to be back at the nursing home early, so we could have dessert alone. Besides, if I told him now, he’d probably make an excuse to get out of it, or it’d sound like I was. No way; date stands. Saturday night dinner at my house.

  By the time Saturday came around, I hadn’t told Caroline about Elijah coming, or Elijah that my sister and dad would be there. The panic was setting in as I shopped for a special meal. Rack of lamb with an orange glaze was my dad’s favorite, and it was fancy enough to impress Elijah. I needed to do something to make up for
what he was walking into. My sister was going to give him the third degree, I knew that. And my dad. Oh, hell. My dad was a loose cannon. He could be lucid, or he could be out of his mind. I was hoping for the best.

  “Oh my God, it smells amazing in here,” Caroline’s voice sounded through my apartment.

  I stuck my head through the opening of the doorway leading from the kitchen to the living room and smiled. Dad looked handsome, wearing a dress shirt, tie, and pressed slacks. It must be a good day, a lucid day. Some nights he’d show up wearing jogging pants and a stained t-shirt, and there was one time where he had mismatched shoes. Caroline always tried to dress him, but on those days, she was lucky to get him into the car.

  “Rack of lamb with an orange glaze?” my dad asked, his smile radiating across the entire room.

  “Yes, sir,” I said proudly.

  “With little red potatoes and sautéed onions?” he asked, taking a long whiff into the room.

  “All your favorites,” I smiled, and then ducked back into the kitchen.

  I heard the TV turn on and knew he’d made himself at home. “He looks great,” I said as Caroline entered the kitchen.

  “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” she said.

  “There may not be many more nights where he’ll actually enjoy it,” I noted.

  “So, how’d your date go?” she asked.

  I blushed, and quickly rushed to the stove where my gravy was beginning to thicken.

  “About that,” I said, turning over my shoulder to offer her a grin. “He couldn’t get away this afternoon, so, he’s coming to dinner,” I announced.

  “Here? Tonight?” she squealed.

  “Please, don’t embarrass him, or me. This is our first date,” I pleaded.

  “I’m just so excited that I get to meet him. I can’t believe he agreed to a first date with your family. He must really like you,” she said.

  “Well…he didn’t exactly agree,” I admitted.

  Her face turned pale, her mouth fell open, and her eyes looked as if they’d seen a ghost. “Are you nuts?” she asked.

  I was pretty certain I was.

  “I agreed before I realized it was the same night. I didn’t want to cancel on either.”