One Hot Doctor

by Brooks, Sarah J.

  “Hi.” My voice comes out squeaky, and I clear my throat to cover up my embarrassment.

  “Please sit down,” Thomas says.

  “Thank you.”

  He smiles, and my stupid heart flutters.

  “What can I do for you?” he says.

  Relief surges through me at the professional tone he adapts. I can do professional. I can pretend that I don’t recall with alarming detail the feel of his huge cock in my hand. The taste of his pre-cum and the sound of his growls when he was almost coming.

  My thighs tremble, and my panties dampen. An unbearable ache forms in my lady parts, and for a few seconds, all I can think about is how desperately I need relief.

  “Cora.”

  I snap back to the present. Thomas wears a look of concern. Great. I’ve probably confirmed that I have a nut loose in my brain. I have to get my act together. Just because I slept with him a few times eons ago doesn’t mean I can’t be professional.

  “I want to have a baby.” That sounds eerily like the same thing I said three years ago.

  “Are you having problems conceiving?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

  I close my eyes momentarily. What had seemed like such a great idea when Riley and I were planning it now seems weird. “No, not that I know of.”

  A frown crosses his gorgeous features. Stop it! He’s my doctor now. I must start to think of him as Doctor Clarkson. Scolding myself has the desired effect, and for the next few minutes, I’m able to concentrate on the conversation.

  “Would your partner be willing to come in for a checkup?” Dr. Clarkson says.

  I stare at him uncomprehendingly. “Partner?”

  “Well, yes,” he says. “Usually, you would require a partner to make a baby with.”

  My face heats up. I was so busy ogling him and remembering that I forgot to explain everything properly. I take a deep breath. “I should have explained better. I don’t have a partner. I want to have a baby by myself. I mean with a sperm donor. God, this is awkward.”

  “Hey, relax, everything will be fine,” he says in a soothing tone. “You came to the right place. A lot of women start with us when they want a baby through a sperm donor.”

  Does he remember that I’d asked him to have a baby with me three years ago? Probably not. Three years is a long time ago, and between that time and now, I’m sure that Thomas, I mean Dr. Clarkson, has had countless lovers.

  My gaze drops to his white shirt stretched across a very muscular chest that I remember palming and then purring with pleasure.

  “We’ll draw some blood and get some tests done as well as an ultrasound just to make sure everything’s okay, and then we’ll take it from there,” Dr. Clarkson says. “How does that sound?”

  I nod. “Sounds good.” Now that the shock of seeing Thomas has subsided, I’m starting to get excited about my baby. “How does that process work?”

  He leans across the table and stares at me with his gorgeous dark eyes, and I’m struck anew by the sharp, masculine planes of his face. I swallow hard and force myself to listen to what he’s saying.

  “Once we’re done with all the tests and see that everything’s working as it should, we’ll book you an appointment at the sperm bank, and they’ll take it from there.”

  Fear courses through me as I think about the sperm bank. That part frightens me. I’ve done some research, and from what I’ve read, they send you profiles of donors who match your specifications.

  “Talk to me,” T says. “I remember that look. You looked like that when you were worried.”

  The easy banter we had enjoyed flies out the window, and tension fills the air. His words remind us that we are not a regular doctor and patient.

  He lowers his glance for a few seconds and then looks at me again. “There’s several of us here, and I can arrange for you to see another specialist. I’m sorry. I hadn’t considered how uncomfortable this is for you.”

  That would be the smart thing to do, but I can’t bring myself to say no. “It’s fine. Really. It’s nice to do this with a friendly face.”

  “Okay.”

  We smile at each other until it becomes uncomfortable.

  “My secretary will direct you down the hallway to the lab.” He picks up the phone and calls her.

  As T talks on the phone, I get a chance to observe him. He hasn’t changed one bit unless you can count growing sexier as a change. He taps a finger on the desk, and my eyes are drawn to his hands.

  I remember he had massive hands and fingers. I blush at the memory of a finger inside me that felt like a small cock. I remember he could make me orgasm with a few pumps of his finger.

  “She’ll make your next appointment, which should be in a few days’ time,” Thomas says.

  “Great,” I say enthusiastically and stand up.

  He walks me to the door. “It was great to see you again.”

  “It was great to see you too.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding when the door shuts behind me. I walk to the secretary’s desk, and she gives me the doctor’s card with my next appointment and then directs me to the lab.

  “I can’t believe that was T.”

  “Whose T?” Riley says.

  I remember that Riley never got to meet him. “It’s a long story, but basically, he was this really hot guy that I was seeing a couple of years ago. You never met him.”

  That’s the wrong thing to tell Riley.

  “Why didn’t I meet him?” she demands.

  We reach the lab, which saves me from answering but not for long. When I’m done with the tests, Riley pounces on me. As we walk out, I tell Riley the whole embarrassing story.

  “Yeah, he was an ass, but you were weird,” she says.

  Chapter 3

  Thomas

  I’m a coward. There’s no other name for it. Cora’s appointment is tomorrow, but instead of letting her come in, I’m giving her the results over the phone. I might be a coward, but it’s for the best. It’s better for both of us if we don’t meet again.

  Cora is a walking, breathing temptation. Seeing her once was enough to awaken my attraction for her. I had to take a shower on the first day she showed up. I can’t remember the last time I jerked off, but it’s been twice now. All I can think about is how much I want to taste her again and hear her sweet voice begging me to fuck her. I don’t trust myself around Cora. Plus, I’m not so much of a dick that I don’t know how badly I hurt her when I ended our affair. Cora is the one woman I would not want to hurt ever again.

  She picks up on the third ring.

  “Morning, Cora. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”

  “Not at all,” she says breathlessly. “I’ve just finished with an aerobics class.”

  I imagine her hot and sweaty, with those little shorts she wears to teach class tight on her curvy ass. My cock swells as I imagine pulling down her shorts and fucking her while she’s leaning over my desk. I adjust my pants to give room to my rapidly swelling cock.

  “I have your results here with me,” I tell her. “Everything’s perfect, and there’s no reason why you can’t get pregnant.”

  “Thanks for letting me know early,” she says.

  I feel like a complete asshole. I feel like that a lot where Cora is concerned. “You’re welcome. We also booked you an appointment at the clinic. It’s for tomorrow.”

  “Oh wow, you really are efficient,” Cora says and lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh, God.”

  “What is it?” I ask her.

  “I’m just being silly. I want this so badly, but I’m terrified at the same. Ignore me. I know I’m not making sense.”

  “Hey, if it will make you feel better, I can go with you to the clinic tomorrow for moral support.” I could kick myself as soon as the words are out. I’m supposed to stay away from Cora, not hold her hand during her appointments. If I keep going this way, I’ll probably deliver her baby. I’m disgusted with myself.

&nbs
p; “Would you?” she asks, sounding so relieved that I can’t withdraw my offer.

  “Sure.”

  “Thank you.”

  We agree to meet the following day at a few minutes to two at the clinic, which works out perfectly because it’s my day off. We say goodbye, and I’m left thinking about Cora. I think about the last time I saw her almost three years ago. I’d been in a pretty bad place, and so had she after Jasper’s death. I cringe when I remember how I ended it between us. She had wanted a baby even then.

  Okay, I’ll support her tomorrow, but after that, I’ll exit her life and continue with my own miserable one. I’m not blind to my own faults, and besides, I have my family to remind me if I forget. My parents have been happily married for over forty years, and they believe every one of their kids should follow in their footsteps.

  My sister Fran, short for Francesca, is married to an awesome dude. Martin is a doctor like me, but while I’m in obstetrics, he’s a surgeon. Fran is a surgical nurse. That’s how they met, and they have a cute story about meeting in the operating room while they were all scrubbed up and covered except for the eyes.

  What began as hints regarding my single life before have now escalated to direct questions on why I’m not seeing anyone yet. There’s even a hint of impatience because three years is enough time to grieve as far as my family is concerned. If only they knew. Grief has no timeline, though I have to admit that it’s gotten easier. I don’t think about Tessa these days and want to burst into tears like a child.

  I turn my thoughts back to Cora. Maybe guilt over how I treated her is the reason why I want to offer her moral support tomorrow. Not because I’m attracted to her.

  ***

  It’s odd to park my car in my usual parking space outside the clinic but not enter. Instead, I stroll to the building next door. As expected, I find Cora already in the waiting area. I wave at her and walk to the reception desk.

  “Hey,” I say to Maureen, the receptionist at the sperm bank.

  “Hi, Doc,” she says and then frowns. “Do you have a meeting here today?”

  “No, just coming to support a friend.”

  We exchange a few pleasantries, and then I excuse myself to join Cora.

  She stands up and kisses my cheek. “Thank you for coming; it means the world to me.”

  Her scent envelopes me, and for a moment, I remember how it feels to hold her in my arms. “You’re welcome.”

  We sink into the chairs and exchange a smile. Hers is a little shaky, but that is understandable. It’s a big step she’s taking.

  “This is it. You’re taking the first step in making your dreams for a baby come true.”

  She inhales deeply. “Yes. I hope I’m doing the right thing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m going to get pregnant with a man who is, in essence, a stranger. Someone my baby or I will never know.”

  Before I can reply, Maureen calls Cora to go in. My eyes are glued to her curvy ass as she follows Maureen down the hallway. I try to imagine Cora pregnant with another man’s child. A faceless, nameless man. A burning sensation, which I recognize as jealousy, fills my chest. Which is crazy. After today, I’ll probably never see Cora ever again.

  Uncomfortable with my train of thought, I grab a magazine from the table and flip through it. It’s a real estate magazine filled with pictures of houses for sale. I pause when I come across a family-type home, and I find myself imagining Cora, myself, and our baby living in it. I catch myself before I take the fantasy too far. What the fuck is wrong with me? I definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

  I close the magazine and return it to its spot and instead occupy myself by checking my emails. There’s a nice long one from May and Fred, a couple I worked with two years ago. They’re inviting me for their son’s two-year birthday in a week’s time. He was conceived via IVF after one failed attempt.

  It hits me just how long I’ve been working in the fertility clinic. For two years, I’ve been part of a process that has helped countless couples have their own babies. An ache of loneliness comes over me. Apart from sharing in their joy, I’ve had no joy of my own. Nothing to celebrate or commemorate except another anniversary of the day that I lost my Tessa.

  I don’t know how long I sit lost in my memories when Cora walks back into the waiting area. She flashes me a smile that immediately puts me in a better mood. She speaks to the receptionist for a few minutes and then comes to where I’m seated, clutching a big brown envelope.

  Having walked with couples through this part of the journey for a baby, I know what the forms are. They’re for her preferences, which will be used to match her to potential donors.

  Her face is pale when she tells me that she’s finished. I stand up, and impulsively, I pull her to me and wrap her in my arms. She holds on tightly to me, and we stay like that for a few moments.

  “Let’s go,” she finally says and draws back.

  Outside, Cora turns to me. “Thanks for coming with me.”

  I take her hand. “Are you okay?”

  She nods. “I’ll be fine. The magnitude of what I’m contemplating hit me when the doctor gave me these forms and then told me what to expect when I bring them back.”

  “They’ll send you profiles of potential donors,” I said.

  “Yes. It feels like shipping.” She giggles, but it’s humorless.

  “It’s not easy. You have to keep your eye on the prize.” I repeat the words that I’ve said to countless women and couples over the years.

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “Hey, how about a drink?” I ask her. “Unless of course, you have other commitments.”

  Her face lights up. “I’d like that. Any distraction is appreciated.”

  “Let’s take your car. Mine can stay overnight in that spot.”

  I follow her to her car in the rear of the building. She unlocks the door and tosses the envelope and her bag in the back seat. When we enter the car, my gaze is drawn to her skirt, which rides up when she sits down, exposing her creamy thighs.

  Pervert. There’s no other word for checking out a woman you’re helping conceive a baby. I force myself to look away.

  “Alms?” she says.

  I laugh. “I remember you used to like it.”

  “It’s a walking distance from my place,” she says.

  I knew of the popular cocktail bar, but I’d resisted going with Cora when we were dating because a lot of her friends went there. The lengths I went to don’t make me proud, but that’s who I was at the time. I’ve changed a bit. The hard, bitter edge is gone, and although I’m still not interested in a relationship, I’ve lost the strategic asshole trait. I think.

  We make small talk as we drive to the cocktail bar. I ask Cora about her gym, and she talks about the changes the place has undergone in the last three years. Her voice is tinged with the excitement and zest for life that I remember.

  She parks her car at her parking spot at the gym. I look at the building with nostalgia. I moved to one across town to get away from Cora, but I loved her gym. Everyone who works there was friendly, and the machinery used to be up to date and well maintained.

  We walk to the Alms bar, and when we enter, it’s like a different planet. While the outside is bright and sunny, the cocktail bar is cool with soft, relaxing music playing in the background. If I had a jacket, I would have removed it. It was just as I’d thought three years ago. Everyone at the bar is Cora’s friend. She and the pretty woman bartending greet each other like old friends and ask after each other’s families.

  “Your mom was here yesterday,” the bartender named Jen says in an amused whisper.

  Cora doesn’t share that amusement. “You’re not serious?”

  “Yeah,” Jen says. “She stayed for an hour, downed two cocktails, and left.”

  We make our orders, and when she brings them, I carry them to a table at the far end.

  “Your mom must be pretty cool to come to a pla
ce like this,” I say.

  Cora shakes her head. “She’s become weird in the last few weeks. I don’t even want to think about that.”

  We take seats at the bar, and Cora says to me, “You worked at the hospital. What happened to make you change jobs? You liked it there.”

  I take a discreet deep breath. How do you explain that it had been another strategy to still the demons that used to keep me awake at night? I hadn’t been able to forget that Tessa had wanted a baby more than anything. And so, I’d decided to help as many women as I could get babies, and what better place to do that than at the fertility clinic. It had helped somewhat. With every couple or woman I helped, my guilt over not pleasing my own wife was assuaged a little bit.

  “I enjoy helping people conceive. It’s satisfying.” It’s the truth.

  Chapter 4

  Thomas

  We’re on our fourth or fifth round, and it’s evening. The bar is buzzing with the conversation of people who’ve come for a drink after work. But my mind is on Cora. She loosened her hair, and now it’s falling in waves on her shoulders. She looks relaxed and so sexy, and all I can think about is how much I’d love to nibble her lips. The top button of her blouse came loose at some point, offering a teasing glimpse of her cleavage. It’s a good thing that we’re now seated at a table rather than at the bar. My cock has hardened to painful proportions and every single cell in my body demands that I carry Cora somewhere private and fuck her senseless.

  “Ready to leave?” I ask when we drain our drinks.

  “Yes.” Her voice is like a caress. Her gaze drops to my chest and then comes up to my mouth. She wants me to kiss her just as desperately as I want to kiss her.

  As we leave the bar, I take her hand into mine. As if by mutual agreement, we walk toward the gym and to the side door. She reaches for her keys in her purse and hands them to me.

  A feeling of déjà vu comes over me as I open the building’s main door. Three years ago, I remember doing the same thing. I insert the key, turn it, and push it open. I hold the door open, and as Cora enters, she brushes against me, her soft curves teasing my senses. My cock roars to life, but I don’t care now. There’s only one person to see my erection, and she’s the cause of it.