Dr Man Candy Read online




  Dr. Man Candy

  A Medical Romance

  S.E. Law

  Copyright © 2019 by S.E. Law

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Also by S.E. Law

  Standalones

  You’re Mine

  Boss of My Panties

  Naughty Relations

  About Last Night

  About This Morning

  About That Evening

  Playing with Them

  Playing with the Doctors

  Playing with the Criminals

  Playing with her Priests

  Healing Hands

  Dr. Feelgood

  Subscribe Now

  Get The Babymaking Service free when you join my mailing list here.

  About This Book

  I’ve never had an “O” but my growly, gorgeous doctor says he can help me by doing “Face Time.”

  I must be the only twenty-five-year old woman who’s never had a big “O” before.

  I’m almost embarrassed to admit it because it feels like a liability when I go out on dates.

  But Dr. Brett Northing says he can help me using a technique called “Face Time.”

  It’s not what you think.

  Face Time isn’t a messaging app where you can give yourself cute bunny ears and big eyes.

  Nor is it “face time” in the corporate sense where employees hang out at the office for management to see.

  Instead, it’s a very personal type of face time …

  … that always ends with a big “O”!

  I went completely bonkers when Dr. Northing told me about his methods. Is he insane? You could go to jail for this! But my physician is absolutely gorgeous with tattoos running up his sculpted arms, lips that were made to be kissed, and thick, powerful thighs. He says he’s ready to do the honors whenever I feel the need …

  But am I ready to give it all to my handsome, hunky doctor?

  If you like your men growly, possessive, and ready to CLAIM, then you’ll love Dr. Brett Northing. He doesn’t have an MD, but he has something else that makes female patients very, very happy. Reader beware: not responsible for renewed interest in Face Time after devouring this book.

  Contents

  1. Chloe

  2. Brett

  3. Chloe

  4. Chloe

  5. Brett

  6. Chloe

  7. Brett

  8. Chloe

  9. Brett

  10. Chloe

  11. Chloe

  12. Chloe

  13. Brett

  14. Chloe

  15. Chloe

  16. Brett

  17. Chloe

  18. Chloe

  19. Brett

  20. Chloe

  21. Chloe

  22. Brett

  23. Chloe

  24. Chloe

  25. Brett

  26. Chloe

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: Dr. Feelgood

  Sneak Peek: Playing With Her Priests

  About the Author

  1

  Chloe

  Janet squeals when she opens yet another adorable onesie. This one has a cute little tulle skirt attached to the bottom.

  “Oh my God, where’d you find this?” she gushes. “This is perfect. My daughter is going to be the best dressed baby in the world,” Janet pronounces.

  Our other friend, Tammy, says she bought the onesie and added the skirt herself. Wow, sewing? That’s so not my thing.

  But I’m happy for Janet because I’ve known the bubbly brunette since our freshman year of college. Most of the girls at her baby shower are her old sorority sisters, but I was never a part of that scene. Frankly, there was no need because I spent so much time with them that it felt like I was in the sisterhood without having to take the actual pledge. Only one other guest, aside from Janet’s family, wasn’t in Alpha Beta whatever either.

  My best friend, Maggie, sits beside me wearing a bemused smile. She knew Janet long before college, so it’s probably strange to see our friend pregnant and surrounded by a bunch of former sorority girls. I’m just glad to have one other person our age who isn’t wearing a shirt with Greek letters on the front.

  Janet opens yet another box filled with cute pink onesies.

  “You guys are the best!” she shrieks, holding up one with the bedazzled letters of their sorority on the front. “I hope my daughter rushes when she gets to college because I want her to have as many amazing friends as I do!”

  I struggle not to roll my eyes. I have plenty of friends and I never went through that the agony of Rush Week, where different girls try out for different houses. I’m trying not to be so judgmental, but it’s hard when all these girls can talk about is the “old days.” We’re past that now, aren’t we? After all, this group of girls must have real jobs and real lives now, just like me. So why can’t we move on?

  I sigh. My carefully wrapped box is next on the pile. After seeing the expensive outfits, strollers, and other things the ten or so other women brought, I’m embarrassed for Janet to open my homemade gift. It’s just so hard, given that it seems like everyone’s getting married lately. I swear, I’ve been to at least ten weddings in the last two years, not to mention bachelorette parties, engagement parties, bridal showers, and now baby showers. I’ve maxed out three credit cards just on wedding related activities. Being a young woman with a lot of friends is hard!

  I wouldn’t change it for the world, though. New York City may be a bustling metropolis, but it can be really lonely sometimes, so I’m lucky to have so many great friends who want me to share in their special days. I just wish it didn’t cost so much.

  Janet’s sister, Lucy, picks up my box and hands it over to her sis. My friend carefully removes the bow and adds it to the bow bonnet, a tradition I never really understood, and opens the box. Janet pulls out the soft pink blanket that I crocheted for the baby. It’s cute and soft, but obviously not super-fancy.

  But I like it. I think a handmade present is better than a onesie that the baby will grow out of in a few weeks. I’ve been making blankets, hats, scarves, and stuffed animals using crochet patterns I find online. At least these things will be useful for a while, and I’m hoping the blanket lasts years, rather than the month those onesies will survive.

  Janet tears up, and I know I made the right decision. “Did you make this?” she asks.

  I nod. “Do you like it?”

  The blanket is light pink with Janet’s last name in darker pink down the middle. Stitching the word onto the crocheted blanket was challenging, but I thought the personal touch would make the gift even better. Judging by Janet’s awed expression, I was right.

  “It’s beautiful, Chloe,” she says, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I love it so much.”

  She snuggles with the blanket for a minute. My whole body relaxes. I was worried for no reason, which is usually the case, but you never know at these things. Girls can turn on you on a dime sometimes.

  Janet finally adds my blanket to the pile of other gifts and moves on. She makes her way through more blankets, onesies, diapers, and other baby things, but gratifyingly, she seems to love my homemade gift the most. I feel happy and blessed.

  Maggie reaches over and squeezes my hand. Of everyone here, she understands my fears the most because my friend does okay for herself, but she’s not rolling in money either. Maggie’s a fact-checker and occasional pet sitter. Clearly, neither of us will be hitting the big time anytime soon.

  The stack of presents dwindles, which is good because my attention is fading. I can only watch someone else open gifts for so long. Honestly, I don’t even like opening my own presents in front of a crowd because it’s uncomfortable being the center of attention. Don’t people have other things to do? But then Janet’s mom speaks.

  “Just one more!” Mrs. Smith burbles. She’s a little over fifty but doesn’t look a year over forty. I don’t think Mary Smith has gotten any work done, but then again you never know. Women with money are canny that way and can afford the best surgeons.

  Mary hands Janet an envelope. “What is this, Mom?” Janet asks with surprise.

  “Open it and find out!”

  Inside is a gift card with a lot of zeros for a baby store in the city.

  “Mom!” Janet gasps.

  Mary smiles. “I want you to get my granddaughter that nice crib you were looking at when we went shopping last weekend.”

  Janet jumps up and hugs her mother. Her huge baby belly makes it difficult, but they figure it out.

  “Thank you so much, Mom. Thank you everyone,” she announces with a huge smile. “I’m lucky to have so many incredible friends because this baby is going to be so loved.”

  Mary squeezes her daughter once more and then lets go.

  “Alright honey. Now that that’s over, it’s time for me and your Aunt Kelly to head out. You young ladies should have some private time to gossip without us old biddies interfering.”

  The sorority girls titter and Janet hugs both her mom and aunt goodbye. Evidently, Mrs. Smith and her sister have a huge charity event tonight at some museum in the city, so they need to go get ready.

  Plus, as soon as Janet’s relatives are out the door, her sister gets a gleam in her eye.

  “I think we should play a ga
me,” Lucy announces.

  Janet groans. “We already know how much toilet paper fits around my huge belly; and we guessed what the baby food was; and we did baby bingo. I think we’re all played out, Luce.”

  Lucy grins. “I was thinking more along the lines of truth or dare.”

  “Truth or dare?” I parrot. “I thought that was done during sixth grade sleepovers.”

  Everyone laughs, but Lucy doesn’t budge.

  “Come on, it’ll be fun,” she whines. After a few more groans, the rest of the women agree. Maggie and I are the last holdouts.

  “Don’t be party poopers,” Lucy admonishes. “Come on, you have to play.”

  I roll my eyes and finally agree to participate. I’ll just keep picking truth so they can’t dare me to do anything ridiculous. I have no doubt these sorority girls have some devious ideas up their sleeves, and I’m not going to risk it.

  “Perfect!” Lucy says, clapping her hands together. “You first, sis. Truth or dare?”

  “Dare.”

  Lucy looks around the room, her eyes stopping at the table where we played the baby food game. “I dare you to eat the rest of the mashed carrots.”

  Janet’s face pales. “Seriously? I hate carrots and you know that. You saw how I struggled to take a bite of that stuff during the game.”

  It’s true because I was worried about Janet blowing chunks in the middle of her baby shower, but she managed to choke it down. I’m not sure she’ll get so lucky if she eats the whole thing.

  “I think the pregnant woman gets a pass,” I try to suggest. “Maybe we could do something else?”

  To my surprise, Lucy frowns, but she agrees. “Fine. You get a pass because you’re the guest of honor. Janet, you ask someone now.”

  Janet picks Maggie, and Maggie picks dare.

  “I dare you … to show us your tits!”

  The group giggles. Maggie, never one to shy away from a dare and eternally confident in her body, lifts her shirt without question. She even lifts up her bra so we can get a full look and shakes them around. Ugh. I’ve been friends with Maggie long enough to know this is a tame dare for her because she’s the person who will change in front of a group of strangers without a care in the world. I’ve seen her completely naked more times than I can count when we were roomies, and trust me, modesty is not a word in Maggie’s vocabulary.

  “You’ve got a better rack than me, and I’m pregnant,” Janet laments. “I wish my boobs were as good as yours.”

  Maggie titters and shakes her tits even more, making them bounce. Ugh. It’s not fair. Not only is Mags gorgeous, but she carries herself in a way that proves just how confident she is. She’s not the skinniest person in the room, but that has never mattered. Guys fawn over her and girls envy her. I certainly do.

  Maggie picks her victim and the game progresses from there. We go around the room giving each other truths and dares. When it comes to me, I reluctantly pick truth, and get a really stupid question about when I got my first period. Duh. When I was thirteen. When will this game end? I tell the truth and fortunately, the game moves on.

  But after one round, we’re still not done. How can that be? The girls are giggling like mad hyenas, and soon enough, it’s Janet’s turn again.

  “Truth or dare,” says her sister Lucy.

  Janet thinks for a second, looking around the room. “I can’t eat anything else or I really will throw up. So, truth.”

  Lucy grins. “Okay. Truth. Tell us the where, how, and when of the conception of this baby.”

  Janet gasps. “What?”

  “Come on, sis. We want the details. Where were you? How was it? When did it happen?”

  Janet blushes. “You guys don’t really want to know how we conceived the baby.”

  The other girls say that yes, they really do want to know.

  “It’s truth or dare,” Maggie says. “You can’t back out. That’s the rule.”

  “Fine,” Janet rolls her eyes and agrees. “It’s really not that great of a story, though. Dan and I were having date night at home. We opened up a bottle of wine, and before we knew it, the wine was gone and we were both feeling horny. We had sex, and bam, I was pregnant.”

  We all giggle. One of Janet’s sorority sisters, Violet, asks, “Yeah, but did you come during that session?”

  Janet gasps. “What? That’s a really personal question. Why would you ask me that?”

  Violet shrugs.

  “I read in a magazine that the contractions during an orgasm help pull sperm into the woman’s body. Apparently, if you have an orgasm, there’s a better chance that the sperm is going to fertilize an egg. So fess up. Did you come?”

  My eyes widen. Seriously? I had no idea about the physics of orgasming. I’ll have to look that up later, because if it’s true, well… then maybe I’ll never have a baby.

  Meanwhile, Janet rolls her eyes.

  “Honestly,” she says. “I was so drunk that night that I don’t really remember if I came or not.”

  Violet shrugs.

  “What a shame,” she says with a queenly air. “Ugh, I remember a couple years ago I was with this guy. He knew exactly what to do with his tongue, and I have never come so hard as when I was with him. It’s a shame he turned out to be an asshole.”

  Maggie laughs and interrupts.

  “OMG, I’m jealous! Although I did get it on with this one guy whose name was Jeff, and he was amazing. Do you remember me telling you about him, Chloe?”

  I nod. Of course I remember Jeff. He and Maggie were inseparable our senior year in college, and unfortunately, I heard them nearly every night.

  “Jeff was the best at giving me orgasms,” announces Maggie proudly. “He knew exactly where to touch me and he managed to find my g-spot.”

  Violet gasps.

  “Girl! Why didn’t you hold on to that one? A guy like that is pure magic, no matter how annoying he is.”

  Maggie bites her lip and meets my eyes because honestly, her breakup with Jeff wasn’t great. It’s been a couple years now, so she can talk about him without bursting into tears, but it wasn’t like that for a long time. It was tough for months and months after the break-up and I think I gained twenty pounds from all the ice cream we ate while lamenting about how terrible Jeff was.

  Maggie takes a deep breath.

  “He was actually a cheating asshole,” Maggie spits. “Turns out mine wasn’t the only g-spot he was finding.”

  I cringe. Okay, so maybe she’s not totally over it yet. Not that I blame her. Maggie did find him in bed with our other college roommate, who shall remain unnamed, and then to our eternal surprise, it turned out that there were multiple women, not just one other woman. Jeff was hooking up with a different girl every night, although how he managed that logistical feat, I’ll never know.

  “Men are the worst,” Violet commiserates with a sad face.

  “I’ll drink to that!” Maggie and Violet clink together their champagne glasses, and the rest of us join in while murmuring condolences, including Janet with her sparkling cider.

  But then things take a turn because people start chatting about their best orgasms. How they had one at the beach as the waves crashed into the surf. How they hooked up with an older man in the guest bedroom of their parents’ room. How they hooked up with their boyfriend in the cellar as their parents watched TV upstairs.

  But I feel really awkward because I have nothing to contribute. The truth is that I’ve never had an orgasm.

  It’s not that I’m a virgin, oh no. I’ve had sex with a couple of guys, but they could never get me to that indescribable point. I can’t even get myself off when I try to touch myself, to be honest. So is there something wrong with me? Maybe with my anatomy?