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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2017 by Whitney G. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author. Cover design by Najla Qamber of Najla Qamber Designs. Editing by Evelyn Guy of Indie Edit Guy.
Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page Dirty Doctor DIRTY | DOCTOR AUTHOR’S NOTE SYNOPSIS THE DOCTOR THE DOCTOR THE RESIDENT THE DOCTOR THE RESIDENT THE RESIDENT TWO WEEKS LATER... THE DOCTOR THE RESIDENT
THE DOCTOR THE RESIDENT THE DOCTOR THE RESIDENT THE RESIDENT THE DOCTOR THE DOCTOR THE RESIDENT THE RESIDENT THE DOCTOR THE RESIDENT THE DOCTOR THE RESIDENT A FEW YEARS LATER... THE RESIDENT | (Well, THE DOCTOR because I’m licensed now) A Letter to the Reader SNEAK PEEK OF NAUGHTY BOSS
THE BOSS SNEAK PEEK OF REASONABLE DOUBT Prologue Also by Whitney G.
For my mom, Nicole London, & Alice Tribue. Thank you all for putting up with me...
DIRTY DOCTOR
A Novella
AUTHOR’S NOTE This book, Dirty Doctor, is Book #2 in my Steamy Coffee Reads Collection—a series of standalone novellas that I will release randomly and in between novels during 2017. Every novella in this series features a hot alpha male, a strong heroine, and a plot that is pure, HOT FUN. (In other words, these are long enough for you to enjoy over a cup of coffee whenever you’re in the mood for something hot, quick, and dirty :-) ) If you’re looking for other books in the Steamy Coffee Reads Collection that have
been released thus far, they are listed below:
NAUGHTY BOSS DIRTY DOCTOR COCKY CLIENT
**If you’re looking for a longer read, I highly suggest my standalone novels.
Love, Whitney G.
PS—Special thanks to K. Bromberg for the awesome idea/encouragement.
SYNOPSIS "Lean back on the table and spread your legs for me ..."
Being a doctor in New York City has never been easy. Especially for someone like me, who has a private practice and an incompetent staff who insists on leaving me to fill in for them.
Over the past six months, I've performed one too many pap smears, three too many "breast exams," and scrubbed in on several reconstructive surgeries. (This would be acceptable, if I was still interested in general medicine, but I'm not. I'm supposed to be a goddamn therapist ...)
When my team finally came to their senses and decided to bring someone more competent into the practice last month, I was actually elated.
Until I realized that our new "doctor" was none other than the woman I was supposed to
meet for dinner two weeks ago. The same woman who stood me up with nothing more than an "I can't meet you anymore, sorry," after we agreed to move our online talks into reality.
I haven't forgotten any of the filthy fantasies she told me about, and I never deleted our dirty messages. And if she thinks that I'm going to act like a "professional" and pretend like that shit never happened, she has another thing coming ...
THE DOCTOR New York, New York Garrett
If a private practice was voted number one in the state and top five in the country for the umpteenth year in a row, the prize for that needed to be a complete elimination of mornings like today. This was the third morning this week that I’d found myself face to face with a female patient who was wasting my time. Face to face with a patient
who wanted me to “personally” examine her pussy. “For the umpteenth time, Miss Aberdeen ...” I clicked my pen. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Your urine and blood tests are one hundred percent clear, and you’re currently wasting both of our mornings. I have patients who actually need me for something serious today.” “I know, and I’m one of them.” She smiled and playfully pulled the hem of her paper gown up past her thighs. “I feel like something strange is going on down there.” “Down there? Surely you’re capable of saying the words ‘in my vagina,’ if that’s what you’re referring to.” “Okay. Something’s going on ... in my vagina.” She bit her lip and smiled again.
I’m not dealing with this shit today... I set down her chart and started writing my ‘nothing is wrong with this patient’ note. This was her fourth pap smear appointment in four months, the very definition of the word ‘unnecessary.’ “Like I said, Miss Aberdeen,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re free to go home, and you need to go home.” “I’m not convinced.” She crossed her arms. “Can’t you just check?” “No.” “No? You can’t say ‘no’ to me.” Would you prefer ‘fuck no’? “I didn’t stutter, Miss Aberdeen. No.” “Didn’t you take the Hippocratic Oath?” She wagged her finger in my face. “Isn’t there a line in there about treating people
with ‘warmth’ and ‘sympathy’? I’m fairly certain that means that you have to take care of your patients, i.e. me, and you have to believe them when they say they’re in pain.” “First of all, you are not my patient, and this is not my specialty. Second of all, you know damn well that your primary doctor, Dr. Laurel, is always off on Thursdays, so you shouldn’t even be here right now.” “I also know that you’ve performed several other pap smears in her absence before. I’ve tried to book an appointment with you in your specialty, but your assistant always says you’re booked.” “Anyway.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “I would like you to kindly place your head between my legs and examine my vagina, Dr.
Ashton. Do it now, or else I’ll leave you a really mean and negative, two-star review.” “Why not just make it a one-star review?” “I’m not joking with you. My daughter works for the local section of The New York Times and I will bash you and your practice so badly, that it’ll take years for you to rebuild your reputation.” I rolled my eyes and put on a pair of gloves. “Lean back on the paper, please.” She smiled and leaned back, looking as if this was the highlight of her life. I paged a nurse and waited for her to enter the room, making sure there was someone here to bear witness to this bullshit. The nurse blushed as she stocked the prep cart and pushed it closer to me. When I
realized that she was literally going to turn red and giggle each time I muttered a single word, I accepted that today was just not my day. “Place your feet in the stirrups and spread your legs for me, Miss Aberdeen.” “Gladly.” She followed my instructions, opening her legs far wider than necessary. I took a seat on the stool between her legs, turned on the exam light, and picked up the speculum. I made sure this was the quickest, most efficient exam ever. I’d done far too many of these over the past few months, and I was certain I could do it blindfolded. Sighing, I swabbed her cervix for the necessary cells — noticing a small
irregularity, but it wasn’t enough to warrant this exam. “Okay, Miss Aberdeen,” I said, taking off my gloves and tossing them into the trash can. “You can sit up now.” “What? That’s it?” She didn’t move. “You haven’t caressed my pelvis yet. And what about my breasts? Aren’t you supposed to massage them and check for lumps?” Jesus Christ ... “You had a breast exam with Dr. Laurel five weeks ago, so I’m pretty sure the results from that still stand. But if you’d like, I can have Nurse Johnson here remain in the room with you and complete a new test for you. I’ll even have her log it into the system as pro bono.” “I will totally do whatever you need me to do, Dr. Ashton.” Nurse Johnson blushed
and let out a nervous giggle. “I’ll pass.” Miss Aberdeen sat up and crossed her arms. “I thought so.” I picked up her chart and wrote a few notes. “As I said before we started, nothing is alarmingly wrong with you ‘down there’, although it looks like you might be developing a minor yeast infection.” “I told you it was something serious. It even sounds serious, so serious that I bet there’s not a cure for it.” “They sell the cure for this at Wal-Mart,” I said. “Most women can actually diagnose a yeast infection for themselves.” “Well, I prefer having a more personal touch.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure you
don’t want to use your long, thick fingers to go a little deeper and make sure you don’t feel anything else inside of me?” I immediately stood up and tore off her prescription sheet from my pad. “You should be cleared up within forty-eight hours, if you get this filled today and follow the instructions.” “And in the case that I don’t follow the instructions? Do I get to see you for a follow-up?” I gave her a blank stare. “Have a great day, Miss Aberdeen. Thank you for your assistance, Nurse Johnson.” I left the room before either of them could say another word, and headed straight for my assistant Emily’s desk.
“May I help you with something, Dr. Ashton?” She looked up at me as I approached. “Yes. I could’ve sworn we agreed that I needed to be the absolute, last resort for Dr. Laurel’s walk-in patients on her off days.” “You are the ultimate, last resort. Everyone else was booked with an eight o’clock appointment.” Perfect ... “Do I have any updates so far today?” “Plenty.” She picked up a box and handed it to me. “The award for being the number one private practice in the state came in the mail yesterday evening. Your ten o’clock rescheduled for four o’clock, your one o’clock wants to switch from an inperson session to a phone call, and I’ve
replenished all of the vases in your office with a fresh supply of Twizzlers.” “Thank you, Emily. Is that all?” “Actually, one last thing. Dr. Ryan is back from Hawaii and in your office waiting for you. She says it’s important.” “I’m sure it isn’t.” I carried the trophy box down the hall and into my office. Sure enough, Dr. Ryan — a.k.a. Dr. “I’m never here,” was sitting on my custom-made chaise for patients and talking on the phone. I was actually shocked to see her here this early since she’d recently become a bit of a celebrity. She was the third member of my staff I’d nearly lost to the world of “TV medicine.” Every time I turned around, she was signing a new book deal, appearing on a television show, or hosting an expensive
conference. Everything except practicing medicine. “You don’t look happy to see me today, Dr. Ashton.” She ended her phone call as I took a seat at my desk. “What did I do now?” “Nothing. Literally.” She laughed. “You know, I really have no idea why my husband likes you so much.” “You came into my office to talk about your personal life? I’ll have to charge you for that.” “Never.” She pulled a thick document from her purse and slid it to me. “I need you to sign off on the joint statement for our new, special residency program. You’re the only doctor who hasn’t signed it.” “Residency program? I could’ve sworn we have three of those already and that we
agreed to bring aboard a new doctor.” “A resident is a doctor.” “It’s a doctor who needs a babysitter.” I flipped through the pages. “I agreed to use the new funding for a certified, licensed, and useful doctor. I’m not signing this.” “Everyone else has already agreed, and we’ve already selected a very talented candidate, so I’m not going to argue with you. And if I recall, it was a twelve to one vote and the vote against was from you, so you technically never agreed to anything and you have to concede to the rest of us.” I sighed and scribbled my signature on the first and last page of the document. “Just so you know,” she said, “the nurses are whispering about you a lot more lately. You’re doing that thing again.”
I raised my eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. “Being closed off, getting annoyed quicker than normal, and well ... just being a more enhanced version of yourself, I guess.” She smiled. “I know this practice is your family’s legacy, but you really need a life outside of these walls.” “No, I need the doctors inside of these walls to actually show up and do their damn jobs.” “See? See how irritable you just got over me trying to be nice to you?” “Get out of my office, Dr. Ryan.” “I’m going.” She grabbed the document and stood to her feet. “By the way, what happened to that nice and sweet woman I set you up with a few weeks ago?”
“It didn’t work out.” “It didn’t work out or you didn’t ‘allow’ it to work out?” “Both.” The woman in question had been a childhood friend of hers and she was indeed “nice and sweet,” but the second she started babbling about wanting marriage and “at least four kids” within the first hour of the date, I quickly lost all interest. “Well, do me a favor,” Dr. Ryan said, as she walked toward the door. “Give online dating a try or find a hobby for your rare off days. I’ll never repeat this or admit to saying it, but ... You’re too damn attractive to spend the rest of your life alone.” “Thank you, very much, Dr. Ryan. Will I need to pay you for that unwanted psychoanalysis, or is your bad advice free?”
She flipped up her middle finger and left my office, shutting the door behind her. Unbeknownst to her and my staff, I did have a hobby: Sex. I just hadn’t had time to revel in it for the past six months, due to an overload of work, thanks to them. And I was definitely a fan of online dating. Well, I was, until I met one too many deep-relationship seekers in a row. Now, I simply browsed the few sites where I kept casual accounts and kept up with the one pseudo-friend I’d made: JerseyGirl7. I’d met her on NewYorkMinute, the more exclusive and private site for the city’s elite professionals. A site that was built around the idea that a meet-up needed to happen within the first three conversations. Every
profile was nameless and picture-less, with a simple series of telling paragraphs and a percentage of “match-ability” based on questions answered. For whatever reason, JerseyGirl7 was a one-hundred percent match for me, but I never asked to meet her in person because I didn’t trust the results. For one, I thought she had to have answered as a joke to be that high of a match with me sexually, and for two, I didn’t have the energy or the time to waste on another potential disappointment. Not only that, but I actually enjoyed having her as a pseudo-friend, even if she did have a smart-ass sense of humor and a tendency to reveal way too much about her deepest, filthiest fantasies.
With her fresh on my mind, I logged into NewYorkMinute and saw a message from her that was dated from a couple of hours ago.
Subject: I have a date this weekend and I need your advice ... So...I think this Friday is the day I’ll finally get laid after all these dry months. Email me when you get a chance or when you get done with your so-called “patients.” (You don’t have to keep lying about being a doctor, you know? We’re never going to meet, so what’s the point in constantly pretending to be something you’re not? Just tell me what you really do for a living, and I’ll tell you what I do, too. :-) )
PS — You were right about my last date. It didn’t end well and he was an asshole like you predicted, but you’re cocky enough as is and I’m not stroking your ego for another second. **JerseyGirl7
I reread the last line of her email a few more times and smiled before closing the app. I’ll deal with her when I get off ...
THE DOCTOR New York, New York Garrett
By the time I left work, it was nine o’clock at night and my tolerance for incompetence had reached a new low. I’d had to berate the interns in my department for being careless with their patient reports, sit through a twohour session with a miserable married couple who was better off divorced, and
force myself to finish reading a forty-page report on a new therapy technique. Somewhere in between all of the stress, I’d depleted my newest supply of Twizzlers, and the last thing I wanted to do tonight was join my staff for the celebratory “Number One Practice in New York, again” dinner. Instead, I found myself polishing the trophy in my living room, placing it right next to the previous years’ awards on my shelf. I stared at them all for a long time, knowing my father was somewhere above saying, “I fucking told you so, son.” Hitting the lights, I headed into my kitchen and poured myself a glass of bourbon — quickly tossing it back before pouring another. Then I pulled out my phone and logged into the NewYorkMinute app,
noticing that JerseyGirl7 had sent me a second message for the day.
Subject: The Advice. Your “patients” must be really driving you crazy today, since you’re too busy to answer. (This doctor thing is quite the charade ...) So, I’ll make my questions brief: 1.) Me and the guy just exchanged pictures and he’s sexy and mouth-wateringlyhot. This has absolutely nothing to do with this email. I just wanted to rub that fact in your face. 2.) Do you think I should wear a dress with stockings or a very revealing top with tight jeans? As a guy, which one says, “I’m
definitely interested in sleeping with you after this date?” 3.) He said he “couldn’t wait to slurp [my] pussy” ... What does that mean? 4.) I really need this to work out. Unlike you, I would prefer not to go another month relying on just my fantasies and my hand ... ALSO — If we ever do meet and I wanted to give you a small gift for all your advice over these months, what would be appropriate? A make-believe doctor kit? A collection of better porn? **JerseyGirl7
I smiled and fired off an immediate response.
Subject: Re: The Advice. My “patients” did drive me crazy today, but not as much as my staff. (I have no reason to lie to you about my occupation.) Thank you, so much, for keeping this week’s sad and pathetic questions brief. 1.) Seeing as though I’m far from gay, I’m not sure why I would give a fuck if the guy you’re about to see is “sexy” or “mouthwateringly hot” at all. 2.) You should wear a dress. No stockings. 3.) It means he has no idea how to eat pussy. 4.) I’ve told you about the danger of making your silly assumptions when it comes to my sex life ...
ALSO — A bulk package of Twizzlers would be “appropriate” but your lips wrapped around my cock would be preferred.
**D-DOCTOR
She emailed me right back.
Subject: Re: Re: The Advice. He definitely knows how to eat pussy. You should SEE all the dirty messages he’s sent me. I’m sure they’re far filthier than anything you’ve ever sent someone.
**JerseyGirl7
Subject: Re: Re: Re: The Advice I highly doubt that ... **D-DOCTOR
I scrolled through our never-ending thread of messages, all the way up to when they first began, when I realized this woman definitely had an obsession with talking about sex. Which was quite ironic because from the time since we’d “met,” she hadn’t had any sex at all. All of her dates had ended in disaster, for one reason or another, and I’d
learned more about her personal vibrator use than I ever wanted to know. I think we need to finally take this offline ... Before she could respond to my last message, I sent her another.
Subject: Your Date I can guarantee that it’s going to be another disappointment. I personally think you should cancel it so you can save yourself some wasted time. **D-DOCTOR
Subject: Re: Your Date
And I can guarantee that it won’t be. He’s an 80% match. Eighty percent. Not only that, but I’ve attached screenshots of some of his most recent messages to me. Read and learn how to talk dirty, “Doctor”. Read and learn ... **JerseyGirl7
I managed to read one message — the “I’m totally going to lick and slurp your wet pussy, and I can’t wait for you to see my cock. It’s the size of a sausage,” —before rolling my eyes.
Subject: Re: Re: Your Date
Would you like to bet? PS — No man should ever compare his cock to a sausage. You can do better ... Much better. **D-DOCTOR
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Your Date Absolutely. What do I get when I win? PS — You’re just jealous your cock isn’t big enough to be talked about ... **JerseyGirl7
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Your Date You mean, when you lose. And when that happens, I want a phone call.
We can renegotiate if you win, but I’m pretty confident we won’t need to. PS — Would you like me to send you a picture of it, then? I highly doubt it can fit into one frame, so I’ll have to send you two ... **D-DOCTOR
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Your Date A phone call? That’s it? You’re on. I’ll take the same thing as a “prize” actually, so I can rub my night in your face. PS — As tempting as that sounds ... we agreed to no pictures, ever. Remember? **JerseyGirl7
Subject: No Pictures We did agree to no pictures, but we previously agreed that you would stop telling me how badly you wanted someone to bend you over a chair and fuck you breathless, and yet, that’s all we talked about last night ... Answer the question. Is that a yes or a no to me sending the pictures to you? I think my cock would fit perfectly inside your smartass mouth ... **D-DOCTOR
JerseyGirl7 has logged off ...
THE RESIDENT New York, New York Natalie I blushed as I reread D-DOCTOR’s most recent messages the next day, rolling my eyes at his offer to send me a picture of his cock, even though I’d almost said yes. Why didn’t I say yes? Smiling, I decided I would deal with him later today. I had an emergency meeting and a date to get through first. As my cab pulled up to the curb of Manhattan Medical, I handed the driver a
ten-dollar bill and pulled the hood of my raincoat over my head. I rushed across the sidewalk and the emergency turnaround, excited about what today’s sudden meeting with the chief meant for my career. All this week, I couldn’t help but overhear my peers gushing about how the chief was offering additional bonus packages to certain interns and residents. As hard as I worked, I knew I was definitely deserving of one of them, too. Taking the elevator up to the top floor, I took a deep breath and knocked on the chief’s door. “Come in, come in!” he said, his voice calm and welcoming, as always. “Good morning, Chief Tomlin.”
“Good morning, Dr. Madison.” He smiled. “Thank you for coming in to meet with me on your day off, and on such short notice.” “My pleasure, sir.” He motioned for me to take a seat, and I tried my best not to look too excited. Yes, I will happily accept the thousanddollar bonus ... Yes, I will happily accept the thousand-dollar bonus ... “Dr. Madison, I called you in here today because I have some good news and some bad news.” His sudden shift in tone caught me off guard. “Which one do you want first?” “The good news.” “Alright. Well, the good news is that you are a phenomenal intern, and I do mean
phenomenal. Your professionalism, punctuality, and enthusiasm for our patients here are among some of the best I’ve ever seen. You’ve demonstrated a high proficiency for diagnosis and I have no doubt that you’ll make a phenomenal doctor in your desired specialty after you complete your residency.” “I appreciate the compliments, Chief Tomlin.” I started to say the words ‘thank you,” but I hesitated. I needed to hear the ‘bad news’ first. “The bad news is ...” He took of his reading glasses and ran his hand through his grey hair. “Unfortunately, we have to rescind our offer for you to join our residency program here.” “What?”
“We accidentally accepted ten too many applicants for our budget, so we decided to randomly draw names to choose which offers we have to rescind. Seven was your number, I’m sorry.” I bit my tongue, preventing myself from screaming “What. The. Fuck!” This was my future he was talking about, and he was sitting there cleaning his eyeglasses, acting as if this conversation was about something as simple as a new uniform policy. As if I hadn’t already planned the next few years of my life around completing a residency here at Manhattan Medical. “Dr. Madison, I completely understand that this timing may be terrible —” “Terrible? It’s weeks from when I’m due to start.” I seethed. “This has to be illegal.”
“No, letting ten extra people start working when we can’t afford to pay them?” He actually had the nerve to smile. “Now, that would’ve been illegal.” I glared at him. “Okay, that was a bad joke. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “Anyway, although we’ll be unable to have you on staff here for our current term, our Human Resources Department worked overtime over the past few months to call every hospital in the state to help us figure out a solution to our embarrassing dilemma.” He pulled out a folder and flipped through the pages. “We sent over your board scores, your attendance record, and of course, recommendation letters from every doctor who was impressed with your work on rotations.”
Smiling, he slid the folder across the desk to me, but I didn’t dare open it. All I could see right now was my lifelong dream slipping away with every second that passed. “Human Resources determined that Park Avenue Wellness Group is the best fit for you, given your preferred specialty and your love of therapy. The team there was excited to offer you the spot and their salary offer is quite high, the highest I’ve ever seen for that position.” “Seriously?” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “You’re asking me to commit to a residency at a private practice? Is this some type of joke?” “Park Avenue Wellness Group is actually the number one private practice in the state, and within the top ten in the country. They
have a staff of world class doctors who are all renowned within their respective fields and a facility that rivals the best hospitals. Not only that ...” I tuned him out. I couldn’t bear to listen to another word. In all my years of aspiring to be a doctor, I’d always pictured myself running through the halls of the number one hospital in the state. The hospital I was currently sitting in right now, the very same one where I just worked my ass off as an intern. I’d never, ever dreamed of entering a private practice, let alone working at one because I always felt that their doctor-to-patient ratios were far too small. Too little variety in the cases to really challenge me.
“Are you listening to me, Dr. Madison?” The chief’s voice cut through my thoughts. “No, sir.” I admitted. “Not at all.” “I figured.” He stood up and walked over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Human Resources put a ton of work into the file I just gave you. It’s everything you need to know about Park Avenue Wellness Group and why we think this is going to be a total game-changer for your career. These things happen for a reason, you know?” These things happen when you hire people who don’t know how to count ... I forced myself to smile and extended my hand. “Thank you for being such a great mentor, Chief Tomlin.” “No, thank you for being one of the best students I’ve ever had the pleasure of
teaching.” He shook my hand. “And hey, this is just a minor setback. The second you complete your residency, give me a call. I’ll move hell and high water to get you onto the official staff here.” I didn’t have the energy to entertain that last comment right now. I simply picked up the file he gave me, stated my thanks one last time, and left his office. Not wanting to prolong my cruel change of fate any longer, I took the elevator to the bottom level and headed into the interns’ locker room. I pulled out my white coat and my change of scrubs, and quickly stuffed all of my textbooks and binders into my backpack. Ignoring the “What’s wrong, Natalie?” and “Why are you crying?” from my colleagues, I left the hospital and tossed the
file about Park Avenue Wellness Group into the first city trash bin I saw. *** Later that night, I sat across from the man I’d met via the NewYorkMinute dating app, Charles Landon. I was determined to turn this day around and was very much looking forward to rubbing this night in D-Doctor’s face by telling him all about the many ways Charles fucked me. Why do I get so aroused by telling a stranger about my non-existent sex life and fantasies? “Um, are you going to order something to drink, Natalie?” Charles waved his hand in
front of my face and I realized the waiter was staring at me and tapping his notepad. “Oh, yeah.” I glanced at the wine selection on the menu. “I’ll have a glass of Château Guiraud.” “An excellent selection, Miss.” The waiter smiled. “Might I also suggest —” “That wine is seventy dollars a glass,” Charles interrupted, frowning. “I don’t think so. Can you pick something else, please?” “Oh, sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize it was that high.” I glanced at the wine menu again. “Can I have the Château Piedmont, then?” “That’s thirteen dollars a glass.” Charles shook his head. “How about the Shirley Temple?”
“Sir,” the waiter said, looking just as confused as me. “The Shirley Temple isn’t a wine. It’s a fancy way for our adolescent patrons to order ginger ale with a dash of fruit syrup and a maraschino cherry.” “It’s also perfectly priced at four dollars.” Charles snatched my drink menu away and handed it to the waiter. “We’re just here for the drinks and the atmosphere. We’re getting Burger King after this, thanks.” “Okay ...” The waiter gave me a look of “What the fuck?” and I forced myself to smile. “One Shirley Temple and a glass of water.”’ “With no lemon.” Charles wagged his finger. “You all charge for the lemon here.” The waiter shook his head. “I’ll be right back.”
“So, how was your day today, Natalie?” Charles didn’t let the topic of his cheapness linger longer than a second. “It was —” I paused, contemplating whether I should tell him I was let go and reassigned to another practice at the last minute, but I hadn’t even told my best friend yet. “It was great. Really, really great.” “Mine was, too. Especially now. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you in person for quite some time.” “Me, too.” I sipped my Shirley Temple the second the waiter set it down. “Would you two like to share a breadstick to go with your drinks?” he asked. “A complimentary napkin, perhaps?” “Possibly. Give us a minute, please.” Charles motioned for him to step away. “Are
you still interested in coming back to my place tonight, Natalie?” I nodded. I was still slightly speechless about the fact that he was actually taking me to Burger King after this. That, and the fact that I was going to have to mentally trick myself into thinking about something other than his cheap-ness, if this was going to work for me. “Great! Well, there’s something I really need to tell you before we leave here. Something rather important.” “Let me guess, you’re married?” I slung my purse over my shoulder in preparation of a “yes.” “Ha!” he laughed. “Never. This isn’t that serious. It’s just that — Well, remember all
those sext messages I’ve sent you over the weeks?” “I remember them very well.” “Well, good but I have to come clean. We can only have a certain type of sex because I ...” “Because you what?” “Because ...” He lowered his voice. “I have penile agenesis.” Penile agenesis? I shook my head in utter disbelief. That couldn’t be. “Do you mean erectile dysfunction?” I asked. “That’s nothing to be whispering about. It’s actually a lot more common than you may think, and not a huge deal. I say that, because you can’t possibly mean penile agenesis. That means —”
“It means I was born without a penis.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I know exactly what it means, that’s exactly why I said it.” I blinked. “Come again?” “You heard me. Most women are too close-minded, dumb, and selfish to be understanding about this, but I hope you’re not one of them. Are you?” I leaned back in my chair. I wasn’t even sure what to say. All those weeks he’d teased me with message after message about how “huge and rock hard” his cock was, how he planned to “fill [my] pussy,” and now he was pulling the “I don’t have a penis” card? “Did you or did not not say that your cock was the size of a huge sausage?” I
asked. “Didn’t you say that to me, just last week?” “Maybe. Or maybe the message cut off before I could finish typing. Maybe I meant to say my cock was more like a sausage patty.” He deadpanned. “And now it looks like you’re judging me,” he said, sighing. “Looks like you’re just as judgmental and closed-minded as the other women I’ve met. “This isn’t about you not having a cock,” I said, I raising my voice. “This is about you lying to me. I was looking forward to fucking you!” The entire restaurant fell silent, and my cheeks turned bright red but I didn’t stop talking. “But you know what? I lied to you, too. Today was a shitty day for me. A really, really shitty day that was the cherry on top of
a shitty week because my hospital decided to transfer me to a private practice before my residency could even begin.” “That sounds so very awful, Natalie.” He tried to reach over the table and caress my hand, but I jerked back. “Yeah, and you know what else is awful?” I stood up from the table. “Wasting all those weeks talking online, just to come all the way out here to meet someone who blatantly lied to me. We could’ve been friends, if you’d just told me the truth from the start.” “Really?” “Yes, really.” “Well, is it too late to be friends now? And are you really going to leave without offering to pay for half of your drink?”
I didn’t answer him. I turned away and stormed out of the restaurant, hailing the first cab I saw. “Hoboken, New Jersey, please,” I said to the driver. “Green Garden Condos.” “Right away, Miss.” I pulled out my phone so I could vent about this mess of a night to my roommate, but before I could scroll down to her name, I noticed a new instant message from DDoctor. D-DOCTOR: Has your date “slurped” your pussy yet? Am I interrupting? JERSEYGIRL7: No, and you’re not interrupting anything ... If I tell you about what happened on my date tonight, can you promise that you won’t laugh? D-DOCTOR: Probably not.
JERSEYGIRL7: I’m being serious. D-DOCTOR: As am I. Tell me what happened and I’ll tell you whether it’s something worth laughing about or not. JERSEYGIRL7: Well, it’s not! The date was amazing and the sex was everything I expected and more! D-DOCTOR: Your date was supposed to be at 7:00 and it’s just now 7:35. This speaks volumes about the level of your expectations ... JERSEYGIRL7: Okay, fine. He lied to me about everything ... He even lied about having a penis. D-DOCTOR: Come again? JERSEYGIRL7: You read my message. It means exactly what I wrote. D-DOCTOR: Call me. 555-1874.
I stared at his message, in utter disbelief that he gave me his phone number. I know we’d agreed to a phone call after I lost the bet, but this soon? The same day? JERSEYGIRL7: How about we renegotiate the phone call thing? Don’t you think we should continue keeping things in ‘virtual reality,’ so we can remain friends? D-DOCTOR: 555-1874.
I swallowed and stared at his number again, finally hitting call after a few minutes. “Yes?” he answered on the first ring, and with that single word, his deep and sexy voice took me completely aback. I waited to see if he would say something else, but the line was silent.
“Hello?” I said. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who asked me to call you ... Hello?” “Hello,” he said, and then seconds later, deep laughter came over the line. “You asked me to call you, so you could laugh about my situation?” “I wanted you to call me so I could put you on speaker phone. I’m double checking some of my nurses’ reports tonight and I’ll have to multitask, if I’m going to get them done by morning.” Right ... I thought it was cute that he continued to put up the sham of being a doctor with me, but given my night tonight, I couldn’t even make fun of him right now. “Did your date at least apologize to you for wasting your time?” He finally stopped laughing.
“No, I left after he asked if I was going to split the cost of a four-dollar drink. He said he only invited me there so we could take in the ambiance, and he probably thought I wouldn’t cause a scene after he told me about his penile agenesis. He was actually planning to take me to Burger King for the real dinner afterwards.” “I see.” His laughter returned, and it turned me on completely. “I think you and I should meet, JERSEYGIRL7.” Silence. “Um ... You just want us to meet?” “I want us to fuck. But I thought saying that first would be rude. Nonetheless, if you agree to that, I think you would finally end your months of misery.”
“No,” I said firmly, even though every word he’d said dampened my panties. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why not?” “Because I don’t even know you.” “You don’t have to know me to fuck me.” He paused. “You clearly didn’t know the man you just went out with. You didn’t even know he was born without a penis.” “That’s not fair.” “You haven’t managed to get past a date with any of the men you’ve met on the app. Last time I checked, they’ve all been failures.” “So?” “How many of them were a one hundred percent match to you, like I am?” I was silent.
“Exactly,” he said. “I think it’s in both of our best interests if you let me fuck you the way you’ve been wishing for after all these months. I can guarantee I won’t be a disappointment, and I actually know how to eat pussy.” I needed to hang up on this man right now. Any man who could soak my panties in seconds with his voice alone, was bound to be trouble. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” were the only words I could say. “Then give me three reasons why it’s not.” “One, I don’t even know your name.” “It’s Garrett.” “Okay, Garrett. Are you going to be a gentleman and ask for mine?”
“I’m going to ask you for the other two reasons why I can’t fuck you, first. Those are far more important at the moment.” “Are you alright, Miss?” The cab driver looked at me through the rearview mirror and I flashed him a reassuring smile. I caught a glimpse of my reflection and saw that my face was flushed red. “Hello?” Garrett spoke again. “JERSEYGIRL7?” “Yes?” “What are the two other reasons why I can’t fuck you?” “Two, you’re not really a doctor. You’ve led me on about something as simple as that for months, so there’s a high possibility that you could be a serial killer.”
“You’ve never told me what you do for a living and I haven’t assumed anything at all. Other than the fact that I think I’d enjoy the taste of your pussy against my mouth. What’s pointless reason number three?” I stalled, thinking of any possible reason, but every nerve in my body was begging me to stop playing games and take this man up on his offer. “Exactly,” he said, his voice low. “There isn’t a third reason and your first two reasons make no sense at all. What are you doing two Fridays from now?” “Nothing that I know of.” “Wrong answer,” he said. “You’ll be fucking me ... Say it.” “I’ll be fucking you,” I whispered, not believing I was actually saying that aloud.
“Good. Glad we could finally get on the same page. Where do you want to go for the ‘date’ part?” “Huh?” I was confused. “The date part?” “You’re a hopeless romantic,” he said. “You’ve always told me that you need to be mentally aroused before sex, preferably on a date. So, where do you want to go for the date part?” “Not Burger King.” “Of course not Burger King.” “Well,” I said, not wanting a recap of tonight’s fiasco. “What type of restaurant do you want me to pick? Like, give me a price range.” “Price range? Price range ...” He sounded as if he was testing those two words in his mouth, as if he wasn’t sure what they
meant. Then he let out that low and sinful laugh that made me wish I knew what he looked like, so I could see it for myself. “There is no price range. Just tell me where you want to go.” “How about Delilah’s?” “That’s a fancier version of Burger King.” There was a smile in his voice. “How about picking some place you might actually enjoy?” I mentally flipped through the long list of exclusive and elegant restaurants in Manhattan that I’d always longed to try. “I’ve always wanted to go to Per Se,” I said. “But I’ve heard it’s pretty hard to get a table there, though.” “Per Se, it is,” he said “And it won’t be hard for me.”
“Because you’re that important?” “Something like that. Can you do eight o’clock?” “Yes. Eight o’clock.” “Okay, JERSEYGIRL7. I’ll see you at Per Se two Fridays from now at eight o’clock and you can tell me your real name then. Don’t stand me up.” “I won’t.” I hung up, ready to finally call my roommate and tell her everything, but DDOCTOR sent me one final message. D-DOCTOR: I highly suggest you don’t wear any panties the night we meet. You won’t need them ...
THE DOCTOR New York, New York Garrett
“Dr. Ashton?” Emily knocked on my door Monday morning. “Dr. Ashton, you have a visitor waiting.” “I’m not here.” “We can all see that you’re here through your office blinds, sir.” “Then close my office blinds.”
She shook her head and stepped back. “Dr. Ashton will see you now, Mr. Baxter.” Seconds later, Mr. Baxter, a longtime client of mine who had way too much time on his hands, walked into my office. He shut the door behind him and started his usual ritual before addressing me. He walked over to the windows on the other side of the room, glancing down at the streets below. Then he smiled and walked over to the far side of my office, admiring my awards before finally settling onto my black, custom made chaise. “What brings you in today without an appointment, Mr. Baxter?” I asked, setting down my pen. “I just wanted to talk about the weather with someone.”
“May I suggest having this conversation with someone who doesn’t charge by the hour?” I say. “Perhaps your wife?” “That’s the thing. She doesn’t want to talk to me right now because I told her I didn’t want to have sex anymore.” I sighed and looked up at the clock on my wall. I really needed to raise my prices soon to prevent shit like this from happening. “Okay, Mr. Baxter,” I said, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible. “Why don’t you want to have sex with your wife anymore?” “Ah, ah, ah.” He wagged his finger at me. “If I answer that question, you’ll bill me for this session. I’m only here because I was in the neighborhood and I was just stopping by to talk about the weather.”
I stared at him. “It’s been raining a lot lately, hasn’t it?” I said nothing. He smiled at me and stood up from the couch. “Well, thank you for chatting with me about the weather, Doc. I’ll see you for our official session next week.” The second he walked out of my office, I started to type an email to our doorman — hoping to reaffirm the rules for not letting people come upstairs without actual emergencies or appointments. I was on the fifth paragraph when Emily and every single doctor in the practice simply walked into my office without knocking. “Am I living in the twilight zone, today?” I looked up at them. “I could’ve sworn the
number one personal rule that I have here isn’t that hard. When my door is closed —” “Leave me the hell alone,” they all said in unison, laughing. “We know you weren’t coming to the conference room to make the welcome call for our new resident, so we decided to bring it to you.” Emily picked up a Twizzler from my stash without asking and stuffed it into her mouth. Then she dialed a number on my desk phone, while the other doctors all crowded around my desk. This is definitely the twilight zone ... The sound of a call ringing came over the speaker phone and a woman answered in the middle of the fifth ring. “Hello?”
“Hello!” All the doctors said in unison. “This is Park Avenue Wellness Group!” They rehearsed this? “Natalie, this is Dr. Laurel speaking,” Our world-class, but never-in-her-office gynecologist said. “We’re very excited to welcome you into our family as a resident and we just wanted to give you a collective call before you started. We know your desired specialty may change over time, but we’re all one big, happy family here, so we’re looking forward to meeting you and working with you.” “Wow ...” The resident I didn’t vote for or want seemed impressed. “Thank you, so much for the warm welcome. I really appreciate it.” She sounded happy.
“We really appreciate you, too,” Emily said. “Are you still open to coming in for your first tour of our practice this Friday?” “Absolutely. Five o’clock, right?” “Yes! Five o’clock. Can’t wait to meet you on Friday, Natalie! See you then.” “See you then. Thank you all so much.” “You’re welcome!” The doctors said in unison once more, something else they’d clearly rehearsed, and then they slowly dispersed from my office. “Did I hear you say that you can’t wait to meet this Natalie resident?” I asked Emily. “Yeah. Why?” “The doctors agreed to hire a resident without even giving her an interview? Isn’t conducting an interview the first rule of hiring?”
“I swear you never listen to me,” she said, shaking her head. “Manhattan Medical had an error in Human Resources. I told you about it months ago. Long story short, we got an amazing resident in the deal, and Dr. Laurel and Dr. Taylor actually did meet with her on several occasions. They just didn’t let her know what they were really interviewing her for, since Manhattan Med wanted to keep their screw-up a secret.” “How convenient.” “Extremely.” She stole another Twizzler from my vase and finally shut my door. I knew now that there was no way I was going to make it all the way to next Friday without some form of stress relief, so I pulled out my phone and logged into
NewYorkMinute. I was scrolling down to JERSEYGirl7’s name in my inbox to ask if she’d be willing to meet earlier, when I noticed she was already in the middle of sending me a message. Jerseygirl7 is typing ... JERSEYGIRL7: Hey. I might have a question ... D-DOCTOR: Hey. I might have an answer ... JERSEYGIRL7: Are you open to meeting me this Friday instead of next? Would you be able to reschedule some of your “appointments”? I’m already going to be in New York in the evening for a meeting that day, so I figured I’d ask. D-DOCTOR: Yes, I’m very much open to *fucking* you this Friday instead of next.
That’s not a problem at all. Same time? JERSEYGIRL7: Same time. Oh, and do you want to finally exchange pictures so you’ll know who to look for/vice-versa? D-DOCTOR: No, let’s keep it interesting ... See you at 8:00. I’ll be sitting at table number 12.
THE RESIDENT New York, New York Natalie On Friday, I stood in the lobby of a glittering, glass building that was nestled in between two condominiums on Park Avenue. There were a few black sofas and chairs artfully placed around the marble floors, and an elevator at the center with shiny, silver doors. The words “Park Avenue Wellness” were etched onto a wall across from me, with a long list of doctor names underneath.
This definitely doesn’t look like a private practice ... “Excuse me?” I walked over to the security guard. “I have a tour scheduled for this evening. Which floor do I need to go to for the Park Avenue Wellness Center?” He raised his eyebrow, as if he couldn’t tell if I was joking or not. Then he laughed. “All of the floors are part of the practice, Miss,” he said, hitting the up button. “You’re probably looking for Miss Emily, though. Sixteenth floor.” “Thank you.” I stepped inside the elevator and hit sixteen as the doors closed. The second the cart stopped and revealed the sixteenth floor, my jaw dropped. It looked more like a vacation resort lobby than a department of a private practice. The
panoramic floor to ceiling windows gave a perfect view of the rain; there were lavish chaises facing the city, and the massive glass desk in the center of the room was the only giveaway that this might be a place for healthcare. A few women dressed in light blue scrubs compared notes and laughed, and a female doctor in a white coat and black dress, held the desk’s phone up to her ear. “Are you Natalie?” A bubbly blonde stepped right in front of me. “Natalie Madison?” “Yes, that’s me.” “Well, great! You’re right on time! Let me get your coat. You won’t want it getting dusty when we walk through the sections under renovation.”
I took off my coat and she smiled as I handed it over. “I take it you’re going somewhere special after this?” I nodded. “I’ll make your first tour short, then. Most of the doctors are gone for the day anyway.” I caught the nurses pointing in my direction as she walked away, and I began to regret wearing my date outfit here. My dress was black and strapless, stopping right in the middle of my thighs. The cut at the front was low enough that the tops of my breasts spilled over the fabric a bit, and my red and silver stilettos were far from appropriate for meeting my future coworkers. Emily made no mention of my outfit when she returned, though. She simply linked her
hand in mine and began showing me around the sixteenth floor. She talked a mile a minute, opening doors here or there, introducing me to some of the doctors who were still sitting in their offices. When I realized that she was literally going to take me on a tour of all twenty-five floors in this building, I made a mental note to bring flats every day. “This is what we call our treatment corridor,” she said, as we walked around the fifth floor. “We have eighteen treatment rooms for our day in-patients, and five rooms for overnight patients. It’s rare that we have to keep someone overnight, but if we do, you or one of the other residents would be required to take observations until the morning.”
“Got it.” I followed her back onto the elevator. “What’s the dress code for residents here?” “Dress code?” She laughed. “The ratio for men to women staff here is sixty-five to thirty-five, and the board’s ratio is even tighter. I believe it’s seventy percent women and thirty percent men. That said, there is no ‘dress code,’ and I highly doubt there ever will be. Most of the nurses and interns wear their favorite scrubs, and the doctors wear whatever they want under their white coats.” “What?” I was completely caught offguard by the numbers she’d revealed. “The practice is sixty-five to seventy percent women?” “Of course, it is.” She smiled and motioned for me to step back onto the
sixteenth floor. “Why else do you think we’re number one in the state?” “I ...” “Exactly.” She winked. “I believe the only two board-level doctors you haven’t met are Dr. Laurel and the owner of the practice, Dr. Ashton ...” She clucked her teeth. “Dr. Laurel does more outside work than any doctor on staff, so you’ll probably only see her during the monthly staff meetings, and Dr. Ashton —” “What about Dr. Ashton?” A deep voice said from behind, startling us both. I slowly turned around and gasped when I saw the man who’d just spoken. Hands down, the sexiest man I’d ever seen in my life, he instantly made me think of sex. His bright blue eyes were gleaming beneath the
lobby’s fluorescent lights, and he was teasingly running a hand through his short black hair — as if he was reading my mind. Over a grey V-neck shirt, he was wearing his white coat — putting every doctor who’d ever worn one to utter shame with the way the fabric slightly clung to his muscles. “I was just telling our new resident, Dr. Natalie Madison, that you and Dr. Laurel were the only doctors she had yet to meet,” Emily said. “Glad we’re down to only one now, but I’m not holding my breath on Dr. Laurel anytime soon.” She looked at me. “Thanks for coming in, Natalie. I’ll go get your coat.” She walked away, leaving me alone with Dr. Ashton.
Doctors aren’t supposed to be this sexy ... There’s no way this man is a ‘real’ doctor ... “Nice to meet you, Dr. Madison,” he said, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you as well, Dr. Ashton.” I couldn’t stop staring at him if I tried, and by the way his lips were curving into a sinful smile, I was sure he could tell. “Did Emily show you my office?” His fingers slightly caressed my palm, setting my skin on fire with a simple touch. “No, I believe your door was closed when we walked by earlier.” “It shouldn’t have been.” He slowly let my hand go. “Please accept my apologies.” I nodded. The way he was looking at me right now made me wish I’d actually worn
panties. “Would you like me to show you my office right now? Personally?” Hell yes ... “No. I um ... I actually need to be on my way out. I have somewhere to be soon.” He looked me up and down, his lips slowly parting as he took in my dress. “Does this ‘somewhere’ involve a boyfriend?” I started to explain that it was some random guy I’d befriended online months ago, but I stopped myself. He didn’t really care where I was about to go, and I needed to put an end to this foolish boss-employee fantasy before it could begin. “Yes. It’s a boyfriend, a very long-term and serious boyfriend.”
“Well, I’m very sorry to hear that.” He smiled again when Emily returned with my coat. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Dr. Madison.” “Looking forward to working with you as well, Dr. Ashton.”
THE RESIDENT New York, New York Natalie “This man is your boss?” Shannon, stared at Dr. Ashton’s professional picture on the Park Avenue Group website as we shared the backseat of a cab. “Are you shitting me right now?” “I wish.” I’d done nothing but fantasize about the possibility of his lips touching mine since the moment I left the private practice. I’d incessantly replayed the way he looked me up and down, the way he caressed
my hand, and I was now cursing myself for not taking him up on his offer of that personal office tour. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I wondered how I was going to be able to get any work done around him. How do any of the women there work when he’s around? “Well, you’ll have to keep me posted on everything that happens when you officially start there.” Shannon returned my phone to me and looked outside her window. “You think there’s a chance this D-DOCTOR guy will be halfway as hot as your boss?” “Doubt it.” I looked at Dr. Ashton’s sexy picture one last time and closed the screen. “But I think the sex with him will be amazing.”
“Let’s hope so. Remind me why you begged me to accompany you on your date tonight. Are you that nervous?” “I’m not asking you to accompany me,” I said. “I just need you to go inside the restaurant first, look for his table, and just call and tell me what he looks like, so I’ll be prepared if he’s not as cute as I hope he is. Oh, and I’ll also need you to confirm that he doesn’t give off any serial killer vibes.” “In that case, I’ll just walk right up to him and ask when was the last time he murdered someone,” she said flatly. “Will that work for you?” “Actually, yes. That’s perfect. Can you do that?” “No.” She laughed and the cab stopped right in front of Per Se a few seconds later.
I followed her out, taking a seat on a bench that belonged to the café next door. “In all seriousness,” Shannon said, “Are you sure you just don’t want to go in and meet him for yourself and just have me watch you guys from afar? I think that’s how most people usually do these things ...” “I’m sure. I want you to check him out first.” “Okay, then.” She shrugged and made her way up the steps, skipping everyone in line with relative ease. Minutes later, she called my phone. “Yeah?” I answered. “Do you see him?” “Not yet, but wow ... This place really is nice. How come we’ve never booked a reservation here for ourselves?” She paused. “Never mind. I just glanced at the menu.
Three hundred twenty-five dollars for the chef’s special? Per person? These people are out of their damn minds ...” “It’s a five-star restaurant, Shannon.” “Right ... Which table did D-DOCTOR say he’d be waiting for you again?” “Twelve.” “Okay, that’s in the back.” She paused for a while and I heard the sound of several glasses clink in the background. “I think I see him. He’s looking at his phone.” “Is he attractive?” “I can’t tell yet, but he’s clenching his jaw for some reason. He also fills out a suit quite nicely.” As if she could already tell what was running through my mind, she didn’t give me
a single second to ask another question before listing out the details. “His suit is dark grey,” she said. “And it looks like its custom-made. From the way it fits his body, I’m pretty sure he has to work out. Also, blue silk tie — designer probably, sparkling silver cufflinks, and perfectly shined leather wingtip shoes. Is this the part where I walk up to him and ask if he’s a serial killer?” “No, but I appreciate the fact that you remembered.” I let out a sigh of relief, feeling hopeful that one of the men I’d met online might finally live up to all our conversations. I started to head into the restaurant, ready to tell Shannon she could hang up, but I heard her suck in a deep breath and stopped dead in my tracks.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Shan, are you there?” “Yeah, I’m here.” Her voice was low. “He just looked up at me.” “Okay, well ...” I stepped into the restroom instead of moving into the dining room. “What does he look like?” “He’s sexy as fuck.” “You can do better than that. Describe him.” “Um ...” She sighed, never a good sign. “He’s got jet black hair, deep blue eyes, and he got that whole ‘I can make you pregnant with one look’ thing going on.” “And on a scale of one to ten?” I glanced at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, adjusting the top of my dress one last time. “What is he?”
“He’s a goddamn fifty,” she said. “But you know, he kind of reminds me of that picture of your boss you showed me on the way here.” “Dr. Ashton?” I rolled my eyes. “Please. I don’t have to deal with seeing him again until I start my residency.” “Well, if you’re not interested in seeing your boss until you start your residency, stay outside because I’ve walked past him five times and I’m pretty sure the guy you call DDOCTOR is Dr. Ashton.” What the fuck? I stepped out of the restroom and slowly made my way to the dining room, grabbing a menu and holding it up to my face as I walked to the backroom. I stepped behind a floral display as he looked up again, as he checked his watch and
clenched his jaw. Oh. My. Fucking. God ... I didn’t want to believe it, but it was undoubtedly him. And all of sudden, everything he’d messaged me about over the past few months added up and made perfect sense. The late night claims of reading over his nurses’ reports, the need to correct me with “I’m a fucking doctor” each time I jokingly called him a “maybe intern,” and the very username D-DOCTOR itself. He wasn’t making anything up at all ... “I can’t do this.” I whispered into the phone. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?” “Go over there and have a laugh with him about this since you just saw each other a couple hours ago. That’s what I would do.”
I contemplated that scenario for all of two seconds before shooting down the idea. I’d told this man my filthiest fantasies, casually told him about my desire to be fucked until I couldn’t breathe, and I was not about to let him know that the same woman who once told him all the ways I used my vibrator was his new resident. I watched him for a few more minutes — partly unable to turn away from how sexy he was, partly still in utter disbelief. When he looked down at his watch again, I turned around and quickly walked away. “Let’s go, Shannon,” I said. “We’re leaving.” I ended the call and made my way outside. I paced the sidewalk as I contemplated my next move, and then I felt my phone vibrating in my hands. Dr. Ashton.
I stared at my phone’s screen as it rang, as it finally went to voicemail. He called again. And again. Shit ... I hovered my finger over the ignore button, tempted to let this night die and act as if I’d never met him at all, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “Hello?” I answered. “Hello. Did you forget about meeting me tonight?” “Not at all ...” “Then should I assume that you’re running late?” God, his voice ... “No, um. I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry for what?”
“That I can’t — That I’m not coming to meet you tonight.” He was silent for several seconds. “I think I deserve an explanation from you, at the very least.” “I just can’t come,” I said, swallowing. “But I want you to know that I have a really good reason for not showing up. I promise.” “Then tell me what that goddamn reason is, since you’re doing exactly what you said you wouldn’t do by standing me up.” “You just have to believe me on this ... It’s a really good reason.” “I see.” His voice was tight. “I would’ve appreciated you calling me and letting me know that you were planning all along to waste my time — especially after all these months that we’ve messaged each other
online. I would’ve appreciated you doing that before I got here and spent over thirty minutes waiting on you.” “I am so sorry.” I moved away from the entrance once I saw Shannon walking down the steps. “I really didn’t plan on standing you up tonight until the last minute.” “You decided this shit at the last minute?” “Yes, but ... There’s no reason why we still can’t continue messaging each other online after this. Maybe that’s where this should’ve stayed anyway. We can still be friends, right?” He hung up in my face.
TWO WEEKS LATER...
THE DOCTOR New York, New York Garrett
Subject: New York Times Review ... Dr. Ashton, please read the attached fivestar review of your services from one of my regular patients, a Miss Rachel Aberdeen. Pay special heed to the parts where she says that although you neglected to “properly address her breasts” and that you “have quite a mouth for sarcasm” that she swears you’re
the only man outside of her husband that she trusts with her “most prized private part.” I truly appreciate you taking care of my patients while I’m away :-) —Dr. Laurel
I rolled my eyes and deleted her email, not bothering to open the attachment. I didn’t need to, since almost every staff member on this floor had taken it upon themselves to slip the hardcopy version underneath my door. Any other time, I might’ve responded with something sarcastic, but I was completely off my game and I was certain that JERSEYGIRL7 was to blame. Ever since the night she stood me up at Per Se, I was more irritable and annoyed
than usual. I’d never been stood up a day in my life, and I’d honestly been looking forward to meeting her and doing everything possible to bring every filthy fantasy she’d told me about to life. When she told me she wasn’t coming, I immediately deleted her phone number and blocked her on NewYorkMinute — although I did keep the archive of our never-ending message threads. I’d also tried to set up a quick replacement date with several other women, but it was all to no avail. I couldn’t find anyone who matched with me more than fifty percent on NewYorkMinute, and the few women who did catch my eye at the bar over the past weekends, couldn’t hold a conversation to save their lives. They didn’t have shit on the
level of sarcasm and wittiness that I enjoyed from JERSEYGIRL7. Maybe I shouldn’t have deleted her number so soon ... “Dr. Ashton?” A soft voice suddenly pulled me out of my thoughts and I looked up, seeing the newest addition to the staff: Natalie. With her white coat hanging wide open, she was wearing a bright red dress that clung to her hips in all the right ways and exposed the top part of her breasts. Her eyes were a stunning shade of green, and her long, auburn hair was falling down past her shoulders in a bevy of large curls. You working with me is going to be a problem, and I definitely need to keep you away from me ...
“How can I help you, Dr. Madison?” I said, holding back a groan, as she slipped the tip of a pen between her perfect, pink lips. “I was told that I was to report to you for the first few months of my residency here, while they finish sorting out some of the final specifics,” she said. “So, where do you want me this morning?” On top of my desk ... “We weren’t supposed to take on new residents until we opened our expansion location down the street,” I said. “So, since you somehow managed to slip in before then, you’ll share an office with me for now.” I pointed to the new chrome desk on the far side of the room. I was pretty sure I never agreed to sharing my office with anyone, and that the
number one board member should never be subjected to something like this, but when the doctors all agreed that I would never, ever have to work with another resident after this, I caved in for the better. “Is there anything you need from me, Dr. Madison?” “Actually, would you mind walking me through the Weisman file and assignment I received in my email this morning?” She clicked her pen. “I’ve never dealt with a patient with that condition before and I can’t read some of the scanned handwriting on the session sheet.” “Sure,” I made a mental note to write neater over the next few months. “I’ll go over it with you in about ten minutes.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and walked over to the new desk, her bright red heels clicking across my marble floors and it took everything in me to act like a complete professional and not utter a word about how sexy she was. This was only my second time being around her and she’d managed to make me ten times more aroused than when I’d first seen her at the end of her tour. I was already ten times more drawn to her than any other woman I’d ever met. Thankfully, she was a complete professional for the rest of the day, and that made it somewhat easier for me to follow suit. I patiently answered all of her wellresearched questions, let her sit in a therapy session with a client who didn’t mind, and
even offered to treat her to a light dinner at the end of the day. She declined. So, I offered to do the same thing on her second day. She declined again. Then she declined for the next four working days in a row, so I didn’t go for a fifth. Still, as the first days of her residency played out, I realized just how much I actually needed the additional help, just how beneficial having someone else at my side was. (Although, I would never admit this to the other doctors. Their twelve to one vote was still bullshit.) It didn’t hit me until the second week of the residency, that something about Natalie was completely off. At least, to me.
Even though I made sure to keep my incessant thoughts of bending her over my chaise or taking her against my window at the back of my mind, anytime I attempted to make basic small talk with her, she changed the subject. As if she was incapable of even addressing the weather or accepting my suggestion of trying NewYorkMinute if she wanted to meet new people outside of the practice. If I happened to walk into the break lounge when she was sitting alone, she would simply smile at me, get up, and immediately leave. She went out of her way to make sure that we were never alone together, unless we were in my office, and I honestly wanted to pull her to the side and tell her to relax. Sexy as hell or not, I doubted I would ever sleep
with someone I worked with. I’d long considered that to be out of the question, and she wouldn’t be an exception. I allowed another full week to go by while witnessing her strange behavior and vowed to ask her what was wrong the following Monday when she came in. “Dr. Ashton!” Emily called me from the reception desk long after Natalie left for the weekend. “Dr. Ashton!” I groaned and headed out to the main desk. “Yes? Are the office phones not working anymore?” “They are, but three insurance representatives have me on hold via those lines right now, so I had no choice.” She pointed to her desk phone. “Anyway, Natalie just called me from a payphone, panicking.
She thinks she left her cell-phone in your office. Can you call it and check for me?” “Sure.” I started to head back toward my office, but I stopped and turned around. “I don’t have her cell phone number.” “Ah, right.” She scribbled it down on a yellow post-it, just as an insurer returned to the call. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed the number, walking to my office. The second I stepped inside, I heard it vibrating and spotted it hiding beneath a stack of folders. Grabbing it, I headed back toward Emily, but I glanced down at her screen and everything stopped. Everything in me was certain that this had to be some type of joke.
The words “D-DOCTOR calling ... Answer? Decline?” were front and center, and the second the call ended, I called her phone again to be sure I was seeing this shit correctly. Sure enough, her screen lit up again with “D-DOCTOR” as the second call came through. Needing further proof, I went to her call log and deleted my last two calls so she’d never know I was on to her. Then, against my better judgment, I sifted through her apps, just to confirm the things that were running through my mind. I pressed the familiar, mini Brooklyn Bridge cartoon icon that led straight into the NewYorkMinute dating app, and the second
it opened, the words, “Welcome back, JERSEYGIRL7!” popped up onto her screen. What the fuck?! She’s been here? All this goddamn time ... “Dr. Ashton!” Emily called from the reception desk again. “I’ve still got Natalie on hold at the payphone out here! Did you find what you were looking for?” “Yes.” I stared at her phone and logged out of the app. “I found exactly what I was looking for ...”
THE RESIDENT New York, New York Natalie “So, you’re saying that you’re never going to tell him it was you who stood him up?” Shannon sat across from me at our favorite coffee shop. “I really don’t think it would be that big of a deal, and maybe he’d laugh about it. You know?” “No, I don’t see a point anymore.” I sipped my latte. “We have a really good working relationship right now, and I actually like working in a private practice,
way more than I thought I would. It’s been great.” “Well, good for you. Is he a good boss?” “Yeah, actually. He’s been nothing but nice and patient with me when it comes to all the charting I have to do, and I really don’t want to mess that up. I can’t afford to mess that up.” “I guess. So, by working alongside him are you any less attracted to him?” Hell no ... “Yeah, a little bit.” I lied because I couldn’t bring myself to admit the truth about Dr. Ashton. The man was basically walking, breathing sex and everyone in that office knew it. Hell, even his patients knew it. In fact, I was pretty sure twenty percent of his patients were perfectly normal and only booking his three-hundred-
dollar per hour therapy sessions so they could flirt and stare at him. I thought I could handle it at first. I honestly believed that his simple gestures of buying me coffee in the morning, offering to buy me lunch, or allowing me to sit in on sessions would eventually wane on me, but every night when I lay alone in my bed, my fingers found their way beneath my panties and all I could think about was him. I was doing my best to avoid being around him one-on-one because it didn’t take much for him to turn me on, but with every second glance he gave me and every bite of his prized Twizzlers, I was reminded that I truly, truly wanted to feel him deep inside of me.
“Whoa.” Shannon stood up from the table as her pager beeped. “This is one of my interns. I’ve got to go.” “See you at home later,” I said. “But wait. Tell me, is the residency at Manhattan Medical everything you thought it would be? Is it as great as we used to dream about?” “Absolutely not.” She smiled, lying like a good best friend. “It’s absolutely awful and I think you’d totally hate it.” “Thank you.” She gave me a hug and left the café. I took my time drinking the rest of my latte, deciding to head into work an hour early to do some additional work for Dr. Ashton. The second I walked into “our” office, I immediately noticed the set up was different.
He’d moved my desk into a corner, and he’d placed two bookshelves next to it that were filled with files. Not only that, but he’d installed a folding screen that separated my side of the office from the area where the patients sat on the chaise. Oh, and he’d taken away the two vases of “Thank you for being a great resident” Twizzlers he’d just given me yesterday. He’d moved them to his desk, giving him six candy stashes to my zero. What the hell is going on? “Good morning, Dr. Madison.” He hit the lights as he walked into the office seconds later. “You’re here early this morning.” “Yeah, I wanted to come in and do some work on the Letterman chart before we met with him today.”
“We won’t be meeting with him,” he said, his voice clipped. “It’ll only be me. You’ll need to leave my office when he comes and do your work in the break lounge until the session is over. You’ll need to leave my office whenever I’m meeting with a patient for the rest of the week.” I blinked, utterly confused. “Also,” he said, pointing to the bookshelves. “Do you see those files that I’ve placed over there?” I didn’t answer. I just nodded. “I need all those categorized by the end of the week, so I suggest you get started with the patients who are the most current on sessions. It’ll make your job a lot easier. Any questions? It looks like you have something to say.”
Are you bipolar? “Um ... Did you by chance forget to take any med —” I hesitated to continue when I noticed him narrowing his eyes at me, daring me to complete that sentence. “With all due respect, Dr. Ashton, I need to practice something. That’s kind of the whole point of a residency. I can’t just file papers all day.” “That’s exactly what you’re going to do all day.” “No ...” I crossed my arms, hating the fact that even in the midst of him being an utter jackass, he still had the ability to turn me on. “The program that you and your team graciously put together said my first three months would be spent working directly with you and learning about better ways to handle
cognitive therapy. It didn’t say anything about reading over charts and files all day.” “Are you defying me?” “I’m warning you.” I wasn’t going to let him push me over, no matter how wet my panties were right now. “I don’t mind doing the files in order of importance, and I don’t mind working overtime hours to get them done.” “I’m not paying you overtime hours.” “Regardless,” I said, narrowing my eyes right back at him. “I don’t mind doing those files in order of importance, but if you think that you’re going to hinder my career in any way because you’re having a bad day and haven’t taken your meds, you have another think coming, Dr. Ashton.” “Is that so, Dr. Madison?”
“Yes, that is so.” I looked right into his gorgeous blue eyes. “That is very so.” “Hmmm ...” A slight smirk crossed his lips, but he didn’t let it stay. “So, what you’re saying is that you were promised a certain type of outcome for the residency and you expect me to show up and honor exactly what you were told, correct?” “Yes. That’s precisely what I’m saying.” “So, the idea of me suddenly changing my mind at the last minute and not honoring what you originally agreed upon would be, how can I put this ... Fucked up?” “Um, yes ...” I wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “Yes, I guess you could say it would be ‘fucked up.’ Does that mean you understand where I’m coming from?”
“No.” He glared at me. “No, the fuck it does not. It means that you are indeed a resident. That means you report to me for this part of your program and you do exactly what I tell you to do, whether you think it’s important to your career or not.” I bit my tongue before the words, “Who the hell do you think you are?” could leave my mouth. “I even did you a favor,” he said, pulling a small sheet of paper from his pocket and handing it to me. “I wrote down the most important files for you. The top twenty I need completed by tomorrow morning at nine o’clock — specifically the Yarbrough family files. No exceptions. Are we clear?” I didn’t answer him. I remained standing there with my teeth clenched, with the words
I really wanted to say tucked tightly beneath my tongue. “Dr. Madison?” He stepped closer to me, closing the gap between us. “I said, are we clear?” “Crystal clear, Dr. Ashton.” I forced a smile. “I understand you completely.” “Good.” He looked me up and down and then he headed toward the door. “Oh and by the way,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “Everything you’re probably feeling right now is more than justified. It’s exactly how I felt when you stood me up, JERSEYGIRL7.” My jaw immediately dropped to the floor. “Too bad I didn’t get to test how wide your mouth could open the night we were supposed to meet,” he said, looking far more
upset than he was minutes ago. “If your shocked expression is any indication, your mouth is quite impressive.”
THE DOCTOR New York, New York Garrett
I took sixteen flights of steps to my floor early the next morning, needing to clear my mind and find a way to apologize to Natalie. Well, I was only going to ‘somewhat’ apologize for everything I’d said to her yesterday. I was still going to make her do more paperwork than was necessary because she needed to be punished in some type of
way for ruining our perfectly good online friendship. But I wasn’t going to prevent her from sitting in on sessions with me. She was more than right about needing to get as much practice as possible and I wasn’t going to hold her back. That, and she was actually quite impressive when it came to analyzing the sessions afterwards. I found her insight and intellect quite refreshing. “Good morning, Dr. Ashton!” Emily greeted me as I emerged from the stairwell. “Good morning, Emily. Anything I need to know before I lock myself in my office?” “Your three o’clock canceled, so I moved up your five o’clock session to four. Dr. Laurel just signed a new book deal, so be sure to tell her congratulations. Dr. Anderson just found out his wife is pregnant, so same
thing. And I’ll need you to sign off on those lab results you sent for when they arrive around noon today.” “Thank you very much, Emily.” “My pleasure.” I walked to my office and unlocked the door. Then I hit the lights and blinked several times to make sure that what I was seeing in this moment was real. Natalie was sitting at my desk. In my chair. With my Twizzlers. She was leaning back with her red heels perfectly perched atop a stack of books, and it looked as if she’d rearranged everything in my office to how it was when she first started here. Looking even sexier than she did yesterday, her lips were coated in a bright pink and she was raising her eyebrow
— looking at me as if she were waiting for me to say something. I didn’t. I hit the lights and walked out of my office altogether, knowing I had to be imagining this shit. I had better be imagining this shit ... I’d fantasized about her wrapping her tempting mouth around my cock while she sat at my desk mere hours ago, so I figured this was just a vivid, real-world projection of that. Besides, what reason would she have to be at work four hours early? I returned to my office, hitting the lights once more, but Natalie was still there — looking as bold and brazen as ever. “May I help you with something, Dr. Ashton?” she said. “Is there a problem?”
“You know damn well there’s a problem.” I set my briefcase on the floor. “But you know what?” “What?” She crossed her arms. “I’m not going to reprimand you for sitting at my custom-made desk that I paid a fortune for, nor am I going to reprimand you for rearranging my office without my permission.” “Sitting down and moving office furniture around isn’t a crime, Dr. Ashton.” I rolled my eyes, sticking to the subject at hand. “I’m going to hit these lights again, and then I’m going to go for a fifteen-minute walk. Fifteen. Minutes. The second I get back, I’m going to turn on the lights once more, and you know what will happen then? You won’t be sitting at my desk. You won’t
be smirking at me, and you also won’t have a stolen Twizzler dangling out of your goddamn mouth.” I looked over at her desk and saw that she’d returned two vases of Twizzlers to her desk. “Speaking of Twizzlers,” I said. “Those vases don’t belong to you anymore. They’re only for people who show up when they’re supposed to.” She didn’t say anything, she just glared at me and took another bite of one. “Fifteen minutes, Natalie,” I said, hitting the lights. “Or else.”
THE RESIDENT New York, New York Natalie
Dr. Ashton walked into his office fifteen minutes later, stopping dead in his tracks once his eyes met mine. “You’re still in my goddamn chair,” he said. “I am.” I crossed my arms. “I’ll happily get out of it when you apologize for your rude and unprofessional behavior yesterday.”
“If you have to beg someone to apologize, then the person probably isn’t sorry.” “I have a feeling you are.” “I’m not.” He picked up his briefcase and set it on his desk, right next to where my feet were propped on top of the books. He muttered a few words to himself and I was pretty sure I heard him say, “I wish I would’ve made you come on my mouth that night ...” but I wasn’t sure. “Did you complete those Yarbrough charts, Dr. Madison?” “No, I did not.” “No, you did not?” He raised his eyebrow. “Did you at least start them?” “Not at all.” I shrugged. “I was pretty emotionally distraught after leaving work
yesterday, so I figured you’d understand if I didn’t get to them. If not, I can kindly explain this situation to Human Resources.” His eyes widened and he looked like he was on the verge of losing it. “I can get started on them today, if you’d like,” I said, smiling. “But as you can assume, I’ll probably need more time to finish them since I’ll be starting a day late.” “Cut the shit, Dr. Madison.” He walked around the desk to where I was. “I’m giving you five seconds to tell me that you’ve done those goddamn files because I told you just how important they were to me yesterday.” I held up my hand and counted down from five on my fingers one by one. “Now what?”
“Now, I tell all of my partners here that I think we need to consider firing you, but I have a feeling you’re just fucking with me right now. Where is the work?” I stood up from his chair and he immediately moved closer to me, pinning my ass against the edge of his desk. “Don’t make me ask you again ...” he said. “Stop attempting to intimidate me and just apologize so we can go back to how things were,” I said. “I know you’re upset because your ego was bruised, but I am not going to stand for your twisted version of sexual harassment.” “I haven’t even begun to sexually harass you, Dr. Madison.” He leaned close and his
lips nearly brushed against mine. “When I do it, you’ll know. Trust me.” “Do you have any idea what you just said?” My panties were soaked. “I don’t think you meant for it to sound that way.” “I meant it exactly how it sounded.” His mouth immediately covered mine and my arms went around his neck, clawing at his skin as he slipped a hand under my dress. As he controlled my lips with his — slipping his tongue deeper and deeper into my mouth, he pushed my panties to the side and rubbed his thumb against my soaked slit. He groaned when he felt how wet I was, and I sucked in a breath as I felt his cock hardening against my thigh. I didn’t have to look down to know it was huge, and the fact
that I felt it through his pants and his lab coat made my cheeks turn bright red. “Unbuckle my pants,” he whispered against my mouth. “Now.” I didn’t hesitate. I moved my hands down to his belt buckle, rushing to free his cock, but before I could even get the leather through the first loop, his phone rang. We both froze immediately and then we slowly pulled away from each other. “Please do the Yarbrough files,” he whispered, still panting. “And for the record, this never happened, and it can’t happen again.” “I agree it never happened.” I touched my swollen lips. “And I did complete the Yarbrough files. I’ll happily give them to you
when you apologize for pulling a Dr. Jekyll and Hyde on me yesterday ...” For a second he actually looked as if he was about to say the words, “I’m sorry,” but he took a seat at his desk and picked up his phone before it could go to voicemail. “Dr. Ashton speaking ...” He kept his eyes on me. “Yes, yes. Okay, fine. I’ll sign them right away.” He hung up the phone, and then he plucked a red candy from his vase. “Dr. Madison, I think you and I need to redefine how this employee-boss relationship works. You are beneath me. I am above you. Therefore —” I didn’t give him a chance to finish that line of thought. I opened the left drawer of his desk and took out the Yarbrough files, plopping them all on top of his desk.
“You’re right,” I said, upset at how crazy he made me. “We do need to redefine how this so-called employee-boss relationship works. Let’s just send emails whenever we’re not sitting in front of a patient.” I stormed back to my side of the office, but not before knocking every goddamn vase of his prized Twizzlers to the floor.
THE DOCTOR New York, New York Garrett
“Natalie, did you finish reading that new study I emailed you earlier this morning?” I poured myself a cup of coffee in the break lounge one morning. “If you’re interested in learning more, I can pay for you to take the course online, if you’d like.” She sat still at her table, slowly slathering a bagel with cream cheese.
“Natalie?” I stepped closer to her. “Natalie, I know you hear me talking to you.” “Good morning, Nurse Johnson and Doctor Clemons!” Natalie waved at them as they entered the lounge. “How’s the day so far?” They said “Pretty good,” and “Mine’s okay,” at the same time. “Good to hear.” Natalie took a bite of her bagel and stared straight past me. Annoyed, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and tapped on my inbox — hating that she was actually staying true to her emailonly communication with me. I sat down at the table across from her and typed an email.
Subject: New Study/Course Did you finish reading that new study I emailed you earlier this morning? If you’re interested in learning more, I can pay for you to take the course online, if you’d like. PS — How much longer are you going to keep this shit up? —Dr. Ashton
Her phone buzzed against the table and she swiped her screen, typing a message right back to me.
Subject: Re: New Study/Course
Yes, I did finish reading that study. I truly enjoyed reading it — thank you, and I would definitely like to take the online course. PS — As long as it takes for you to treat me like your resident (or your friend) again. Boss-employee relationship or not, I don’t appreciate the way you talked to me. PSS — For the record, you are, BY FAR, the most unprofessional doctor I have ever worked with in my career. —Dr. Madison
Subject: Re: Re: New Study/Course I’ll pay for it as soon as I get back to my office and forward you the login information. You can start taking the course next week.
PS — A friend wouldn’t have stood me up at the last minute without giving me a reason. Boss-employee relationship or not, I don’t appreciate the way you stood me up. PSS — You haven’t worked in this field long enough to actually have a “career.” —Dr. Ashton
Subject: Re: Re: Re: New Study/Course I can start taking the course when I feel like it ... And the only reason I stood you up — a VERY, VERY GOOD REASON might I add — is because I didn’t want to start my new job with the weight of previously sleeping with my boss on my shoulders. I didn’t want to have the memory of being
beneath you in your bed every time we worked together here ... —Dr. Madison
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: New Study/Course You really need to work on your use of CAPS LOCK. You’re emphasizing all of the wrong words. And for the record ... IF you had actually shown up, you wouldn’t have had the memory of being beneath me in my bed at all. I would’ve had you on all fours ... —Dr. Ashton
THE RESIDENT New York, New York Natalie
I now regret ever saying that working in a private practice was less challenging than working in a hospital. This was, by far, much harder and I was struggling for the first time in my career. I’d foolishly thought that my first few weeks were a blueprint of what I’d be doing for the rest of my residency — simply
shadowing Dr. Ashton or another doctor for a few months at a time and taking tests here or there. But the second the program coordinators sat me down in a private boardroom and laid out more of the program specifics and how it was about to change, I realized I was in over my head. Mondays through Wednesdays were the days I spent with Dr. Ashton, the tension between us growing hotter and more explosive by the second. The lustful energy was practically palpable each time we shared the same room. It was becoming so obvious, that in the middle of our last session with a woman who was suffering from misplaced anger issues, she stopped midspeech and looked at both of us, yelling,
“Jesus! Would the two of you just fuck already?” Thursdays were the “research days” when I spent hours on the third floor of the practice, conducting studies in the lab — splitting my time between the psychologist and the psychiatrist. (And since this was only one day a week, they both gave me enough ‘solo study’ work, so that I had to come in on the weekends and finish. I never finished ...) The worst day of all though was Friday, which was definitely a cruel joke on me by the universe. Fridays were designated to be “as needed day” which meant that even if I were in the middle of completing a research assignment or catching up on some charting that was long overdue, if any of the board
doctors needed me to do something they didn’t want to do, I was their girl. And they definitely made me their girl. My Fridays were a never-ending reel of mending minor sutures, “I just want someone to listen to me for twenty minutes,” sessions, basic physical checkups, rectal exams, lab test screenings, “please retrieve the nurse’s notes on my patient’s family history from twenty years ago now, please” demands. They started the second I walked through the door at seven o’clock in the morning, and I was lucky to get out the doors of Park Avenue Wellness by ten o’clock at night. So, technically, I dreaded Fridays, but I also dreaded Thursdays because they cruelly pushed me into those Fridays without a second thought.
“You look like absolute shit today.” Shannon plopped down next to me on our couch late Thursday night. “Like, you’re naturally gorgeous— usually, but I can barely even recognize you right now with those big ass grey bags under your eyes.” She leaned closer and sniffed me. “And what is that smell? Have you not showered at all this week?” “Thank you so much, Shannon,” I said. “I can always count on you to make me feel better about my life.” “You’re very welcome.” I wiggled my way out of my sweater and tossed it across the room. “A doctor caught me on the way out today and asked me to help him hold a baby while he set up the room for a CAT scan. The baby looked at me
for two seconds and vomited all over me. It’s like she wanted to confirm the state of my life for me, you know?” “I’m sorry.” She laughed and gave me a side hug. “On the plus side, you’re one of the highest-paid residents in the state. You make fifteen thousand more than me a year by working there, so that has to count for something, right?” I slowly turned my head to face her and gave her a blank stare. She laughed even harder. “How are things with the dirty doctor?” “Dirty Doctor? That’s what we’re calling Dr. Ashton now?” “Yeah, somehow I don’t feel right calling him ‘Dr. Nine Inches’ like you do. Plus, I think it sounds better.”
I tried to laugh, but nothing came out but a dry heave. “He’s still finding creative ways to push me into speaking to him again.” “You’re still giving him the email only treatment?” I nodded, but he was honestly breaking me down with each day that passed. All it took was one sexy smirk, one lick of his full lips, or a “Surely you can say thank you for this,” when he brought me breakfast and hot coffee every morning. (I was certain my ‘Subject: Thank you for Breakfast + I Truly Appreciate It’ emails would come to an end soon.) “You know, it would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t so damn attractive and beloved by every person who works there.”
“Beloved? I thought you said he’s the rudest out of all the doctors.” “Oh, he definitely is.” I sat up on the couch. “But everyone loves him because aside from his assholery from time to time, he’s actually quite generous.” She looked as if she didn’t believe me. “He pays for twenty percent of his patients’ care every month, and he takes on twice as many pro bono cases as the next top three doctors combined.” “You’re kidding. How’d you find out?” “I was going through his desk the other day, trying to find out where he’d hid my cell phone.” I smiled at his umpteenth failed attempt to break my silence. “I saw this list of notes and a bunch of checks paper clipped to it. They were all payments for the patients
who either couldn’t afford his fee or didn’t have health insurance. And the notes were a very thorough list of at least fifty things he’s taken on for free this year. Fifty.” “Well, maybe he’s not so bad after all. I mean, you clearly like him and vice versa, so maybe when you two get tired of playing these childish games with each other, you can at the very least be friends again.” “I’m not going that far.” I picked up my phone as it vibrated against the coffee table. “He’s going to give me that apology, or at least acknowledge he didn’t have to be so rude.” I swiped my screen and saw a message from the doctor himself.
Subject: Tomorrow. (As needed day) Dr. Laurel won’t be coming in tomorrow. You’ll need to handle her three morning appointments. A nurse will be available. —Dr. Ashton
Subject: Re: Tomorrow. (As needed day) Dr. Laurel? Aren’t her morning appointments usually all pap smears? —Dr. Madison
Subject: Re: Re: Tomorrow. (As needed day) Yes.
Is that a problem? Are you uncomfortable touching pussy? —Dr. Ashton
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Tomorrow. (As needed day) No, I just ... I haven’t done one of those in a long time and I only did a few as an intern. I’m sure I’ll be fine, though. —Dr. Madison.
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Tomorrow. (As needed day) You don’t have much of a choice ...The nurse who’s assigned to help you will be
taking observation notes on your performance for Dr. Laurel to “grade” later. As much as you’ve touched your own pussy at night to thoughts of fucking me, I think this should be rather easy for you. —Dr. Ashton
THE RESIDENT New York, New York Natalie
The next morning, my heart raced as I faced my first patient of the day. My gloves were on securely, the nurse had perfectly arranged the tools on the cart for easy access, and a vagina was right in front of my face. “Dr. Madison?” The nurse whispered from behind. “Dr. Madison?” “Yes?”
“When are you planning on starting the exam?” “Um, right now.” I scooted my stool as close to the patient bed as I could go. “Could you place your feet in the stirrups for me, please?” “They’re already in the stirrups, Doctor.” The patient hissed. “Just like they were already in the stirrups ten minutes ago, and twenty minutes ago. Any longer, and my legs may give out. Do I look like I’m in good physical shape to you?” “No ... I mean, yes. I mean —” I sighed. They might as well have asked me to perform neurosurgery. I never was good at this. For a very good reason. “Dr. Madison?” The nurse whispered again. “Do I need to get Dr. Ashton to do
this? You have another appointment in twenty minutes and you have yet to even start this one.” “No, I’ve got it,” I said, picking up the speculum. “I’ve got it.” I moved the speculum close to the patient, preparing to insert it, but I dropped it to the ground. “Okay, that’s it.” The patient sat up. “Get me someone else. Now.” I didn’t even offer a rebuttal. I took off my gloves and rushed out of the room, straight for Dr. Ashton’s office. I knew he was here and even though he told everyone not to bother him until after lunch, I knocked on his door anyway. “Does anyone here know what the words, Don’t bother —” He ended his sentence as he opened the door. “Do you
have a pussy phobia? Is that why it looks like you’re crying about your assignment right now?” “No .” I let out a nervous laugh. “It’s just that ...” “Any day now, Dr. Madison. You can complete that sentence if you try hard enough.” “Long story short, I severely hurt a patient the first and second time I did a pap smear. I fucked everything up and almost cost the hospital a lawsuit — twice. It got settled eventually and the chief realized it was an honest mistake but...” “You avoided them as much as possible for the rest of your intern years — which is technically cheating, but since you thought
women’s health was never in your future, you decided to never properly learn?” I nodded and he grabbed my hand, tugging me across the reception area and down to the women’s health wing. He entered the room and grabbed a chart, immediately snapping into a mode I hadn’t seen from him since I started here: A sweet, compassionate doctor. “Miss Farmington, I’m Dr. Ashton and I’d like to complete your exam today. Would you feel comfortable with me doing it?” “Yes.” She blushed. “Absolutely.” “Pay close attention, Dr. Madison,” he said softly. “We’re going to do four of these together today, so this won’t happen again.” He motioned for me to put on gloves and
within seconds, all of his attention was on the patient. I watched as he performed the exam with ease, never losing focus as he kept her occupied with small talk and laughter. It took him ten minutes to complete the part I was scared of doing, and twenty minutes to complete the breast and pelvic tests. He completed the next two exams the same way — softly instructing me to pay attention to how “easy” this was, and by the time he was finished, I was somewhat confident that I could do the final exam alone. “Turn these in to the desk for me.” He handed the nurse a clipboard. “Thank you for helping today. I’ll watch Dr. Madison complete the last one by herself.”
The nurse wished me good luck and left the room. “What time is the last patient due in?” I asked. “Now.” He picked up a clipboard. “Get undressed and get on the table.” “What?” “You heard me.” His voice was low. “Get undressed and get on the table. I’m going to help you with your problem, personally.” “With all due respect, I don’t need you to give me a pap smear.” “Good, because I wasn’t planning on giving you that at all.” He looked me up and down before leaving the room. I stood still, in complete and utter shock. Half of me wanted to drop all of my clothes
right then and just let him have me the second he returned to the room. And the other half of me actually wanted the same goddamn thing. I slipped out of my shoes, panties, and my skirt, taking a seat on the edge of the patient bed before covering my lap with a piece of starch-white paper. A knock came to the door and he asked if I was ready. “Yes ...” My voice was so soft I could barely hear it. The door opened and he entered with a clipboard in his hands. “Miss Madison,” he said, looking at me as if I was actually a patient. “I’m Dr. Ashton and I’ll be taking care of your pussy today.” “I’m pretty sure that’s not the script...”
“It is today.” He smirked and sat on the stool in front of me and clicked his pen. “But first, a few personal questions. Do you currently smoke?” “No.” “Do you currently do any type of recreational drugs?” “No.” “Do you currently fuck other people?” “What?” “Yes, or no,” he said. “Are you currently fucking other people?” “I’m not ‘fucking’ anyone.” “Good.” He wrote on his clipboard. “When’s the last time you had sexual intercourse?” “I can’t answer that question.” “You can, and you will.”
I shook my head. “A year ago.” He dropped his pen to the floor in shock, but instead of picking it up, he simply pulled another one from his pocket and shook his head. “Did you come?” “What?” “You heard me,” he lowered his voice. “Did you come?” “No.” “Interesting.” He set the clipboard down and grabbed a pair of gloves, putting them on as if this was a real exam. “Lay back on the bed, please.” I didn’t make a move. I simply stared at him — half turned on, half beyond turned on, so he stood up and gently pushed me back against the bed himself.
He smiled at me and quickly took off the gloves, tossing them into the trash across the room. “It’s a habit. I highly doubt I’ll need those with you today.” “What do you mean?” He avoided my question. “Put your legs in the stirrups and spread your legs for me.” I slowly followed his command and looked up at the bright, white ceiling. Within seconds, I felt his hands gently caressing the inside of my thighs. Then I heard him let out a low laugh. “It’s rude to laugh at a patient’s body,” I said. “That’s the first rule of good bedside manner. With all of your years of experience, you should know that.” “I’m not laughing at my patient.” He trailed a finger against my soaked slit. “I’m
just wondering what made you get rid of all of the hair you previously had down here.” My entire body blushed red. “You definitely had hair here when I touched you in my office weeks ago ...” He smiled at me. “For the record, I don’t mind it either way.” “Well, you’ll probably never see it again after today, so what you mind or don’t mind doesn’t really matter. Also —” I immediately stopped talking once I felt him blowing against my clit, once I felt him darting his thick tongue against it. His hands continued to caress my thighs, and as he began kissing my pussy as if he were kissing my mouth, I lost all train of thought. My breathing slowed as he buried his head in my pussy and slid two fingers deep
inside of me. “Ahh ...” I felt my legs getting weak from being in the stirrups, but he didn’t let me move. Moaning, I reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair as he sucked my clit into his mouth. Oh. My. God ... “Garrett ... Can you ...” I cried out, as he began fucking me even harder with his fingers, as the sound of them slipping in and out of drenched pussy filled the room. “Can you ... slow down? Slow ... Down ...” “Shhh ...” He blew against my clit again — making me moan even louder, but he didn’t slow down at all. He continued to tease me with his tongue’s perfect, sensuous rhythm, and each
time I tried to close my legs, he tightened his grip on them and held them apart. My pussy began to throb against his mouth and that only made him torture me more. “Come on my face, Natalie ...” he whispered. “Come for me ...” As he began to alternate between rubbing the pad of his thumb and his tongue against my clit, I shut my eyes. My body began trembling beneath his tight grasp, and I tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was no use. I cried out as my entire body shook against the table — sending some of the supplies from the cart crashing to the floor. I felt him continuing to kiss my pussy, as wave
after wave of pent-up pleasure rolled through me again and again. By the time I was still again, I couldn’t feel my legs and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to stand up for the next two hours, if I wanted to. Garrett trailed his tongue against me one last time before standing up and looking at me. “You’re sexy as hell when you come,” he said softly. “I look forward to seeing that a lot more often.” Keeping his eyes on mine, he grabbed a few soft towels from the cabinet and wiped between my legs until he was satisfied with his work. Then, after picking up my skirt and placing it next to me, he walked to the door.
“We’ll need to meet here for a follow-up within the next forty-eight hours. Just to be sure you’re completely satisfied with your treatment ...”
THE DOCTOR New York, New York Garrett
Subject: Progress. I heard you completed a pap smear all by yourself today. Would you like a medal? —Dr. Ashton
Subject: Re: Progress.
Correction: I completed two pap smears all by myself today. And yes, if you’re offering. I would like a medal. —Dr. Madison
Subject: Re: Re: Progress. I’d be happy to award you one under three conditions/demands. —Dr. Ashton
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Progress. List them and I’ll let you know whether I can agree to them or not. —Dr. Madison
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Progress. 1. You start talking to me again outside of emails/when you need my help for something. (I apologize for the way I treated you and I will apologize in person, if you agree to this point) 2. You admit that you regret standing me up that night. 3. You meet me in exam room number six in thirty minutes so I can give you the award personally ... (Hint: It’s not really a medal.) —Dr. Ashton
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Progress. 1. Okay I agree to this. (I definitely want the apology in person.)
2. I do regret standing you up that night, but only because I think we actually match up pretty well and we could’ve had a good conversation about it. (Then again, you would’ve fucked me before I started here, so a part of me still doesn’t regret standing you up. :-) ) 3. I’m already in here waiting. (Hint: I was hoping it wasn’t a medal :-).) —Dr. Madison
THE DOCTOR New York, New York Garrett
What the hell am I thinking? I was going to have to fire this woman. Sooner rather than later. Exactly twenty-two hours after I devoured her pussy in an exam room, I did it again. And again two days after that.
And then again every other day, just because. She had yet to complete her first official exam from me because we kept pushing it back due to our “exam room time,” and I was starting to feel like I was becoming more like the other doctors here. I was only doing the things I wanted to do, when I wanted to do them. and that honestly wasn’t good for me or Natalie. What was worse, was that I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that I actually liked her beyond whatever the hell we were currently doing. She was hands-down the most intelligent woman I’d ever met, definitely the sexiest, and I felt as if she was the perfect type of person I could see myself dating outside of the office.
That, in itself, was a huge problem. I wasn’t the monogamous dating type — at least I wasn’t ready now, and my practice came before everything. Always. Still, I was starting to realize that even though we were both workaholics, we somehow still found a way to spend time together every day. In the break-room, over breakfast in the library downstairs, after office-hours in the newly renovated research wing. I even sent her a gift delivery last night ... I needed to put a stop to this. And fast.
THE RESIDENT New York, New York Natalie
Subject: ‘Dirty Doctor’ sent me flowers today. I’m attaching a picture. How cute are these?! (I think he really likes me.) He also sent me a sweet, handwritten invitation for a “makeup date” a few weeks from now. —Natalie
Subject: Re: ‘Dirty Doctor’ sent me flowers today. He sent you flowers yesterday, too. Are you trying to make me jealous? (And of course he really likes you. **eyeroll** It’s quite obvious from that permanent goofy grin he makes you come home with every day.) Please don’t stand him up this time... Wait, you’re not calling him ‘Dr. Nine Inches’ anymore? By the way, why haven’t you told me anything about experiencing these supposed “nine inches” yet? —Shan-Shan
Subject: Re: Re: Re: ‘Dirty Doctor’ sent me flowers today. No, he sent me dinner and wine yesterday. The other set of flowers were from the day before yesterday. Big difference. :-) And yes, I’m trying to make you jealous, but only because I saw some of your notes from Manhattan Medical on the counter today and that made me jealous... (What they did to me still stings, amazing alternative or not. I’m sorry. :-( ) I definitely won’t stand him up. He’s actually insisting that he pick me up that night. Oh! And I actually like the name ‘Dirty Doctor’ for now, and the only reason I
haven’t told you about his ‘nine inches’ is because we still haven’t had sex. PS—Do you think it’s possible that we really could be a 100% match like that silly NewYorkMinute app suggested? —Natalie
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: ‘Dirty Doctor’ sent me flowers today. 100% match? Let’s see: You’re both stubborn, argumentative, and hot tempered when pushed. You also clearly have no morals when it comes to having oral sex in an exam room after hours, so...Yep. 100% match. On a more serious note, yes. I think something might become of this down the
line. I see you two dating for years, eventually. ALSO—Since you mentioned Manhattan Medical, I’m attaching an internal memo that went out earlier this week. I know you’re enjoying Park Avenue Wellness, but if you’re the slightest bit tempted, read this. (If not, delete it.) —Shan-Shan
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: ‘Dirty Doctor’ sent me flowers today. I won’t need to read it, but thank you for sending it to me anyway. :-) I’ll call you on my lunch break. —Natalie
THE RESIDENT New York, New York Natalie
So much for that... I hate that I ever started to really, truly like this man ...
It took all of a few weeks for Dr. Ashton to ruin all my memories of what he’d done to me in the exam room, along with all the
random sweet things he’d done for me. The scenes of him giving me back to back orgasms with nothing more than his tongue were now erased by the way he’d come into work for the past couple days this week. He was back to being an unhinged, psycho-boss and treating me terribly for no reason at all. The office partition had reappeared between our spaces, the bookshelves were next to me once more — brimming with files, and when I asked him why he was doing this again, he simply blew up on me. As he talked on the phone to what sounded like an angry patient, I pulled up Manhattan Medical’s website and logged into their employee portal.
I’d finally opened that internal memo Shannon emailed me and realized it was probably fate trying to send me a message. It was a Human Resources message that revealed that two residents had been fired last month for recklessness, and the hospital was looking to quickly replace them without much fanfare or attention. I opened my drawer and pulled out my resume, hoping for a miracle that I would be accepted again. And if I didn’t get accepted, I was going to apply to other places and hope for transfer options with the new semester. Falling in love with Park Avenue Wellness — hectic days aside, wasn’t enough for me to constantly put up with Dr. Ashton’s hot and cold behavior. Amazing tongue or not.
“Dr. Madison?” He called my name once he hung up the phone. “Dr. Madison?” I pulled out my phone and sent him an email.
Subject: Yes? What can I help you with today, Dr. Jekyll/Hyde? —Dr. Madison
He sighed and stood up from his desk, walking over to mine. “We’re not going through that email-only shit again.” “Aren’t we?” I typed in University of Maryland into the education section. “I told
you before that you can’t treat me any type of way and you did it again, for no reason.” “There is a reason.” His voice was tight. “A very good reason.” “Then what is it?” I stopped typing and looked up at him. “What could possibly make you think that you could have me screaming your name in that exam room one day and then completely beneath you like trash the next?” “I’ve told you before, I would never technically have you beneath me,” he said, walking behind my desk. “And to be honest, the reasoning is —” He glanced at my screen, sucking in a harsh breath as the words, “Thank you for filling out part one of the Manhattan Medical Residency application” popped onto my screen in bold.
“You’re applying for other residencies while you’re here?” He sounded angry, but there was a hint of hurt in his voice. “How long have you been doing this behind my back?” “Just today, when you started being a condescending asshole again.” I gritted my teeth. “Are you sure it’s just today?” I didn’t get a chance to answer him before a new email popped onto my screen from Shannon, and I knew there was nothing I could do to prevent him from seeing it.
Subject: Emergency! (Is it now? LOL) Am I supposed to call your office right now so you can tell Dirty Doctor there’s an
emergency you have to tend to or is it in an hour? I can’t remember ... Let me know ... —Shan-Shan
“So, you’re a liar as well?” Dr. Ashton clenched his jaw. “Better than being a psycho who doesn’t know how to treat the smartest resident he’s ever had.” “You’re also the sexiest resident I’ve ever had, Natalie.” He closed the gap between us. “And that’s the fucking problem.” “My looks make you treat me bad?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re a therapist
and you actually allowed those words to come out of your mouth? Seriously?” “Natalie —” “No.” My blood was boiling. “Your reasoning is absolute bullshit. It sounds more like, I like you, Natalie, but I’m just an alpha-asshole who’s too scared to be a gentleman, so I’ll just treat you badly as my way of showing ‘I like you’ whenever it hits me.” “That’s not it.” “It’s not?” I tried to step back, but he snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me against his chest. “That doesn’t sound the least bit plausible to you?” “Not in the slightest.” “Then why have you consistently brought me, and only me, breakfast and coffee to
work every day? Every. Single. Day?” “We share an office. It’d be rude not to do so.” “Why have there been random, nightly flower and wine deliveries to my house, then?” “Maybe I feel bad for breaking the fraternization rules and want to make it up to you.” “And the handwritten invitation in the mail from you to me?” “To Per Se?” His expression softened, but it didn’t stay long. “Yes, to fucking Per Se for four weeks from now because you said you ‘really, really wanted’ a make-up date.” My chest was heaving up and down, and I was on the
verge of screaming. “What’s your excuse for that one?” “I’ve never been stood up a day in my life. I need you to correct it.” “You know what?” I jerked away from him and headed toward the door, hating that I was beyond wet, that I could clearly see the imprint of his hardened cock through his pants. “Fuck you, Dr. Ashton. Fuck. You.” “I’ll happily take you up on that.” He beat me to the door and grabbed the doorknob before I could twist it. Then he spun me around. “Yes, I fucking like you, Natalie. A lot more than I should.” “How easy was that to say?” “Very. Take off your clothes.” He was in front of me in seconds, his mouth on mine,
his hands in my hair as I struggled to unzip the side of my dress. Impatient, he moved my hand away and unzipped my dress himself. Then he pushed me down onto the chaise and unbuckled his pants. “Get on your knees ...” He whispered into my ear, and I slowly rose up on all fours. He moved behind me and grabbed my ponytail, gently pulling it back. I heard the sound of him unwrapping a condom, and the next thing I felt was him slowly sliding his cock inside of me. Inch by inch. It’s definitely nine inches... “Ahhh...” I murmured, and he kissed the back of my neck.
I dug my nails into the leather as he commanded me to be still, as my body adjusted to the full, thick length of him. He kissed my shoulder softly, but there was an abrupt end to his sweetness. He suddenly gripped my hips and pounded his cock into me relentlessly, making me cry out in pleasure. His left hand cupped my mouth to muffle my loud screams, and he used his other hand to hold me taut against him. Shutting my eyes, I let him have full control and gave into him — not focusing on anything else. As he bit my skin harshly, he whispered, “Your pussy feels so fucking good...so fucking good...” The phone on his desk rang as he thrust into me deeper. I expected him to simply let
it ring as we continued, but he pulled me back by my hair and whispered, “Pick it up.” “What?” “You heard me.” He slid into me again. “Pick up the phone. Answer it.” “Now?” “Right now.” He slapped my ass, never losing his rhythm. With him still pounding into me, I picked up the phone. “Dr. Ashton’s office.” I answered breathlessly. “How may I —” I held back a moan. “How may I help you?” “Hi, my name is Hannah Yates. I was hoping to reach Dr. Ashton about my appointment this evening. I wanted to let him know that I’d be coming a little earlier, and if that would be okay?”
“It’s more than okay,” he whispered into my ear. “Tell her it’s more than okay.” “Um, ma’am, it’s —” I bit my lip as his thumb massaged my clit. “I’m sure that will be more than okay. I’ll let him know. Have a great day.” “No, wait! Could you also tell him that I’m open to talking about my sex life? Tell him he can ask me those questions this time, so it won’t be awkward.” I nodded, as if she could see me, unable to say anything as my body began to tremble and shake. “Hello? Are you there?” “Are you, Dr. Madison?” He kissed my neck. “Are you there?” “Yessss....” I moaned and dropped the phone, falling forward against his desk. He
caught me before my face could hit the wood, and then he picked up the phone himself. “Miss Yates, this is Dr. Ashton, are you still on the line?” He pounded into me harder as he found his own release, holding me against him as he kept his voice calm as ever. “Yes ...Yes, I was telling Dr. Madison that would be completely fine, so you don’t have to —” He kissed the back of my neck. “You don’t have to check later ... Okay ... Yes, that offer still stands ... Right ... Okay, see you then.” He hung up the phone and slowly pulled out of me before laying me against the chaise. He took off the condom and threw it away, then he walked back over to me and helped me back into my dress.
He looked at me, slightly concerned. “Are you okay?” I nodded. I’d never been fucked like that before, and I was pretty sure I would be replaying today in my dreams for months to come. “Are you planning to stay the rest of the day, or —” He looked at his watch. “Is it almost time for you to pretend like you have an emergency with ‘Shan-Shan,’ so you can leave and keep applying to Manhattan Medical?” “No, I ...” My cheeks reddened. “I wasn’t going to pretend.” “So, there is an emergency?” “No,” I admitted. “But there could be in a few minutes. You never know.”
“And is ‘Dirty Doctor’ what you call me behind my back?” He looked somewhat amused. “I have a different nickname for you, actually.” “Care to tell me what it is?” “Never.” I smiled. “But if you’d like me to change it, you can drop the alpha-asshole thing as of today and try to be a bit more romantic.” “And if I don’t?” “You don’t want to know the answer to that, but it includes the return of email-only conversations.” “Hmmm.” He adjusted my bra and stood up to buckle his pants. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Dr. Madison. Enjoy the rest of your day. No questions asked.”
“Really?” He nodded and walked to the door — holding it open for me. “Really.” I stood up and immediately grabbed the side of the chaise for balance, feeling just how weak and sore my legs were. I caught Garrett smiling as I slowly wobbled toward him. Holding back his sarcasm, he pressed a kiss against my forehead before I stepped out of the room. “See you tomorrow.”
THE DOCTOR New York, New York Garrett
Subject: Thank you for the chocolate covered strawberries you had delivered yesterday. I didn’t get a chance to see you at the office today, but I loved them. (Yes, that counts as being more ‘romantic’. The extra note about really enjoying how my pussy
feels against your cock does not, though. O_o. ) —Dr. Madison
I laughed and set my phone down. I shut my office door and headed down the wing, making sure everything was dark and in its place. The light at the end of the hall in the study room was still on, so I walked toward it, and when I stepped inside, I saw Natalie was reading and sipping a cup of coffee. She immediately looked up at me and blushed. “I thought you were gone for the day.” “Not yet.” I pulled out the seat across from her. “What are you studying?”
“The London family case,” she said. “They came up in research last week, so I pulled their files from your archives. You’ve been treating them for a long time and I found something odd. Something really odd.” “Is there a question coming?” “Maybe.” She picked up a few other files. “There’s actually something off about twenty percent of all your patients.” “I’m still waiting for the question.” “Every time I drop off certain files at the desk, they come right back within an hour, unmarked. There’s no payment method on file — yes, I checked illegally, but only because I was investigating.” She looked at me. “This month, not a single payment has been made for any person you’ve seen. Are
you trying to go bankrupt or are you really just that generous behind closed doors?” I smiled, but I didn’t answer. “We’re talking about a loss of over two hundred thousand dollars here,” she said. “You can afford to lose that type of money?” “It’s not a loss, but even if it was, yes. My father’s generosity rubbed off on me,” I said. “I run the practice the same way he did for the most part.” She stared at me a long time before saying anything else. “Dr. Ashton—” “Garrett.” I corrected her. “I believe we’re definitely on a first name basis now.” “Yes, well, Garrett. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t necessarily strike me as the super-philanthropist type at all.” “What exactly do I strike you as?”
“An asshole.” She laughed and I narrowed my eyes at her. “An attractive and charming asshole, though.” She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Good to know.” “Thank you for that backhanded compliment.” “You’re more than welcome,” she said. “But in all seriousness, it’s very sweet of you to follow in your dad’s footsteps.” “Thank you.” I looked at her. “I take it my practice wasn’t your first choice for completing your residency?” “You weren’t even on my list, no offense. Only Manhattan Medical, as that’s just always been my dream.” “You’re still holding out hope of going back there?”
She nodded. “Not as a slight against you, though. It was just —” “Your dream.” I leaned forward and kissed her lips, catching both of us off-guard. “Let me know when you have some free time in your schedule outside of the office soon. I really need to talk to you about something that’s been bothering me about ‘us’ for awhile.” “Are you ending things with me already?” She looked suspicious. “Is that what this is?” “No.” I kissed her again. “We’re just getting started.”
THE RESIDENT New York, New York Natalie
Subject: Your Manhattan Residency Application. I stared at that subject line Monday morning, too anxious to open it, too nervous about what it would say. I distracted myself by opening every other email in my inbox — including the spam ones I never opened, and then I braced myself for the big reveal.
Subject: Your Manhattan Residency Application. Dear Miss Natalie Madison, Thank you for applying to the Manhattan Medical Residency Program. We truly appreciate your enthusiasm for our mission. However, we regret to inform you that we are not able to extend you an offer for our program at this time. Please feel free to call our office if you have any concerns, and feel free to apply again during the next term. Human Resources, Manhattan Medical.
I forced a lump down my throat, and I didn’t let a single tear well in my eye. It just wasn’t meant to be for me, and besides, I was starting to truly fit in and fall in love with a certain doctor here at Park Avenue Wellness anyway. I’ll just be happy and grateful for that ... I deleted the email and left the break lounge, heading back to my shared space with Garrett. I picked up the appointment cards from Emily on the way and cleared my throat as I stepped into the office. “Dr. Ashton?” I asked, walking over to his desk. “Yes?” “Um, have you looked at the schedule for the day?” I handed it to him. “This can’t be
right. It’s a brand new patient and they’re booked for all three of our morning sessions.” “No, it is.” He looked over the sheet and handed it back to me. “This is exactly correct.” “It can’t be,” I said. “There’s not any information on this patient in our system. All we have are the patient’s initials: F.N.A.M. Is this code for an old friend of yours, then?” “No.” He laughed and locked the door. “And those letters aren’t patient initials. They’re an acronym.” He pressed a finger against my mouth before I could ask another question. “Fucking Natalie All Morning.” I blushed. “Does this fall under you being more romantic as well?”
“No, just horny and insatiable.” He laughed and pushed me against the desk.
THE DOCTOR New York, New York Garrett
Subject: You Have to Tell Me Something Important? I rushed all the way here when I got your voicemail, so I’m sitting in your office now. Where are you? —Dr. Madison
Subject: Re: You Have to Tell Me Something Important? I’m in a meeting. I’ll be with you in a few, and it’ll only take five minutes. —Dr. Ashton
“Well, Dr. Ashton ...” Dr. Laurel sat at the center of the conference table, flanked by every doctor who had a stake in the practice. “On behalf of everyone else here, I’d like to say we appreciate you for bringing this ‘relationship’ to our attention, and I respect you more and more every day by the fact that, even as majority owner, you truly put what’s best for the practice first.” There were murmurs of agreement from the other doctors.
“That said, the rules we agreed on when we came aboard are quite simple. No doctor can engage in a relationship with any employee here, no matter their employment status or level, so you already know that one of you has to go.” “I do.” “I’m sure I don’t have to guess which one of you it’s going to be, but since this will affect our residency program, you’ll be responsible for working with the coordination team and getting a replacement for Dr. Madison.” “Understood.” I started to stand up from the table, but she raised her hand. “And also —” She let out an exasperated sigh for dramatic effect. “You do realize that we have spent over four thousand dollars on
your Twizzler supply over the past year, correct?” “I did not know that.” I headed for the door. “But now that I know, I’ll aim to get it to five thousand.”
THE RESIDENT New York, New York Natalie
I leaned back in Garrett’s chair, waiting patiently for him to see me and roll his eyes about it, but when he entered the room, he looked as if someone had sucked the life out of him. “Is something wrong?” I sat up. “Did you want to see me because something has happened to you?”
“Something like that.” He walked around the desk and pulled me to my feet, sitting down in his chair and then pulling me into his lap. “I have some good news and some bad news, Natalie.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “What do you want to hear first?” I shook my head. I was suddenly having a bad case of déjà vu and I didn’t like the episode I starred in last time. “I’m sorry.” I stood up. “What did you say?” “I said I have good news and bad news. Pick which one you want first.” “The bad news.” “Okay.” He paused for a few seconds, pulling me right back down. “I have to let
you go from Park Avenue Wellness. Effective immediately.” “What?” “For the record, I think you’re very talented, beyond intelligent, and you were literally born to practice medicine, but —” “You’re firing me?” My eyes widened. “I just had sex with you less than twenty-four hours ago, and came all the way here to talk to you on my off-day. This is what you brought me here for?” “If you would let me finish ...” “I don’t have to.” I shook my head. “Are you firing me — yes or no?” “Yes and no.” “Wow. Just wow.” I crossed my arms. “You know, for a split second, I really thought that you and I could potentially work
out. I’ve actually hoped that you would one day say that you wanted to date me and only me, but I would’ve never guessed that this is what you had up your sleeve.” “I’ll address our personal life in just a minute.” “We won’t have a personal life after we get done with this conversation.” “I beg to differ.” “Then I look forward to seeing you do that on your knees later.” He had the audacity to smile. “Can I finish now, or is there something else your smart-ass mouth would like to say, first?” “There’s something else.” I gritted my teeth, lowering my voice as a nurse walked by his door. “I’ve fucked you, Garrett. Numerous times.”
“I can vividly remember each one.” “You’ve had me in your car, on your chaise, all over this office and you ...” I could barely find the strength to finish. “I actually thought I meant something to you.” “You do.” He clasped his hand in mine. “And as much as I would like to hear you talk more about all the places we’ve had sex, I do have a patient coming to see me in twenty minutes, and I did promise you that our meeting would only take five minutes.” I looked away from him and stared out the window, waiting for him to say whatever he had to say. “Natalie ...” He cupped my chin in his hands and tilted my head so I was facing him again. “I asked Manhattan Medical to consider you for their program again, and
they’ve agreed to work with us again so you can go back.” “What?” “I had the chance to go where I wanted to complete my dream residency, and as much as everyone loves having you here, I think you should have the chance to do the same.” My jaw dropped. “Oh ...” “Yes, oh.” He smiled. “This has been in the works for the past few weeks when I saw you moping after you returned from lunch with your friend, but I can’t lie and say that’s the sole reason I worked hard on this deal.” “Then what’s the other reason?” “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t focus for shit with you sharing an office with me.” He trailed his thumb against my bottom lip. “I can barely focus knowing
you’re in the same building as me, and this is a way to remedy that.” “Is that so?” “Yes.” He mocked me. “Yes, that is very so ...” He leaned forward and bit my lip, then he whispered. “And I think this arrangement will work out even better for us, since I don’t think I should work directly with a woman who I want to be mine.” “Say that again ...” “You heard me.” He smiled. “I would really like to date you.” “Exclusively?” “Exclusively.” “Well ...” I bit my tongue to prevent myself from smiling. “I have some demands before I can agree to that.”
“I would be surprised if you didn’t. List them and I’ll think about it.” “One, you have to delete all of those other dating sites you once told me about.” He reached into his pocket and handed me his cell phone. “I’ve already done that.” “Two, we can’t just have sex all the time. We have to go out to places outside your office.” “We can do that. Three?” “Three, you have to tell me ‘the good news.’ If that was the bad, then I’m really excited about it.” “You shouldn’t be.” He smirked and picked up a piece of paper, handing it to me. “The good news was that I priced those vases that you knocked over and broke a few weeks ago during your tirade in my office.
The good news is also that I received a very affordable invoice that will replace said vases and the Twizzlers.” I gave him a blank stare. “You owe me two hundred and eighteen dollars, along with thirty-four cents. That covers everything, including four bonus packs of Twizzlers,” he said. “Now, I can deduct this from your final check that you’ll be receiving today, or I can fuck the shit out of you on my chaise until you apologize for the damage.” “Garrett,” I said, somewhat concerned about this sweets addiction. “Are you joking right now?” “Not at all.” He smiled and leaned back. “What’s it going to be?”
“Well, they’re both quite appealing, but I think I’ll go with option two.” “I thought so.” He kissed me. “I’ll cancel my appointment. Get up and lock the door ...”
A FEW YEARS LATER...
THE RESIDENT (Well, THE DOCTOR because I’m licensed now) New York, New York Natalie
Subject: Anniversary. I truly can’t believe that I’ve been dating this man for over four years...Can you? I got your “Congratulations” card this morning, and I’ll bring you back a dessert
from our celebration dinner later. Goodnight. Natalie
Subject: Re: Anniversary. I can definitely believe you’ve been dating ‘this man’ for over four years. The way the two of you have kept me up almost every night with your ridiculous fucking has made time go by ever too slowly for me... Don’t bring me back any dessert, just give me some sleep by spending the night at his place tonight. PLEASE AND THANKS! Goodnight. Shan-Shan
I laughed and slipped my phone into my purse, looking over at Garrett as he coasted through Manhattan’s streets. “Are you going to continue to insist that we go to Per Se for every milestone and celebration?” I asked. “Yes.” He smiled at me. “I think it’s important that we make this a tradition.” “Or, your ego still has yet to recover from me standing you up, years ago,” I said. “It was years ago, Garrett. I really think it’s way past time for you to get over it.” “I am over it.” He placed his hand on my thigh. “Do you not want to go there anymore?” I didn’t bother answering that. He knew that I loved everything about Per Se, especially since he’d made it his personal
mission to take me there once a month ever since I returned to Manhattan Medical. “You have yet to answer my question about moving in with me,” he said when we approached a stoplight. “You said you would decide right after you became licensed, so speaking of things that happened years ago...” “I’ve only been licensed for one year.” “That doesn’t change the fact that you promised to give me an answer.” He pulled the car into a spot the restaurant owner had long designated just for him. “I need an answer, Natalie.” “Right now?” I’d been leaning toward yes, but I honestly enjoyed the state of our relationship as it was. Now that I was licensed and had steady working hours, I met
him at his office for breakfast every morning, saw him for regular date nights every weekend, and he didn’t seem to have a problem staying the night at my place more than I stayed at his. Until recently, that is. “Okay...” He turned off the car and cupped my face in his hands. “What’s holding you back from saying yes?” “Commitment,” I said softly. “Commitment? I’m only dating you, and I’ve only been dating you for years.” “No, I mean...More than that.” I admitted. “Moving in together is a big step, and I would just want to be engaged at least before doing that.” “I see...” He let go of my face and leaned back in his seat, sighing. Then he unbuckled
his seatbelt. “In that case,” he said, smiling and tapping a small box that was protruding from the inside of his breast pocket. “I fully expect a ‘yes’ after dinner tonight...Two of them.”
**THE END**
A Letter to the Reader Dear Incredible Reader, Thank you so much for taking time out of your life to read this book! I hope you were thoroughly entertained and enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you LOVED it and have any extra time, PLEASE leave a review, OR find me here on Facebook so I can personally thank you :-) If you hated it, well...keep that shit to yourself! LOL (Just kidding. Feel free to let me know how I can improve next time!)
I’m forever grateful for you and your time, and I hope to be re-invited to your bookshelf with my next release. (Speaking of my next release, if you’d like to be a part of my mailing list so you can be notified of my upcoming release dates and special offers, please sign up via this link. ) Love, Whitney G.
SNEAK PEEK OF NAUGHTY BOSS
He definitely wasn’t supposed to get that email ...
Subject: My Boss. Have I already told you that I hate my boss today? Sexy as hell or not, this pompous, arrogant, ASSHOLE asked me to pick up his dry cleaning the second I walked through the door. Then he told me that I needed to take his Jaguar to a car wash that was ten miles outside of the city, but only after I needed to stand in a never-ending line to buy some type of limited, hundred-dollar watch.
I honestly can’t wait to see the look on his face two months from now when I tell him that I’m quitting his company and that he can kiss my ass. KISS. MY. ASS. All those former fantasies about him kissing me with his “mouth of perfection” or bending me over my desk and filling me with his cock are long over. OVER. Your bestie, Mya PS—Please tell me your day is going better than mine ...
Subject: Re: My Boss. No, you haven’t already told me that you hate your boss today, but seeing as though
you’ve sent me this email directly, I know now ... Yes, I did ask you to pick up my dry cleaning the second you arrived to work to day. (Where is it?) And I did tell you to take my Jaguar to the car wash and pick up my thousand-dollar watch. (Thank you for taking five hours to do something that could be accomplished in two.) You don’t have to wait two months from now to see the look on my face when you tell me you’re quitting. I’m standing outside your office at this very moment. (Open the door.) No comment on your “fantasies,” although I highly doubt they’re “long over.” Your boss, Michael
PS—Yes. My day is definitely going far better than yours...
THE BOSS Michael
Manhattan, New York
The last time my face was plastered across the front page of a tabloid, the headline was at least somewhat true. What I was currently staring at in this moment was beyond farfetched, even for someone with a scandalous and sex-filled reputation like mine.
Playboy CEO of Leighton Publishing Leaves Woman Crying in Hotel Lobby After Hours of Loud Sex on Balcony
I flipped through the pages of The National Enquirer, skimming the details from the socalled “trusted source” while resisting the urge to roll my eyes. According to them, I’d had sex with this woman in the penthouse suite of a hotel and simply put her out so I could have sex with someone else. And according to the woman who’d clearly concocted this bullshit story, she said my exact words to her were, “Thank you for letting me fuck your pussy. It’s time for me to
fuck someone else’s now. You can see yourself out.” There was no mention of the fact that this very same woman was recently convicted for lying to a grand jury in a theft case, but tabloids were never interested in the truth. They only wanted to sell papers. I managed to get through the entire article without a reaction, but I couldn’t help but laugh at the last line: Rumors are now swirling that the ‘naughty’ CEO engages in sex with two different women for every day of the week. He apparently keeps a private schedule for his sex-life. I shook my head. It’s only one different woman for every day of the week...
Tossing the tabloid into the trash, I remembered to send a generic text to the women I planned on seeing this week. There was Lisa on Tuesday, Mariah on Wednesday, Hannah on Thursday, and Tiffany on Friday. Michael: Looking forward to seeing you this week. Their responses came in exact succession. Lisa: Looking forward to seeing you, too :) Mariah: Can’t wait to fuck you again ... Hannah: Let me know if you want to change it to an earlier day :) Tiffany: Anytime :)
With a few minutes to spare until my six o’clock meeting, I set a box of potential front-list novels on my desk. I made two pots of coffee and opened new notepads. Then I impatiently waited for my executive assistant. I’d long given up on her arriving early to meet me for anything because she was always five minutes late. She literally lived right across the street from the building and she never ceased to amaze me with her endless excuses as to why she couldn’t be on time. Ten minutes past six, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Fifteen minutes past six, I wondered if my previous thoughts of her being the most incompetent assistant
I’d ever had were true, and at twenty minutes past six, I caved in and called her desk. “Yes, Mr. Leighton?” she answered on the first ring. “Did you forget that we’re supposed to discuss the winter selections today?” I asked. “You know how I feel about things needing to be on time.” “Oh, right! I am so sorry! I got caught up on these reports, but I’m on my way.” She hung up, and within minutes she walked into my office carrying a box of assigned novels. She placed it on my desk and sat across from me. “Wait.” She held up her hand. “Before we start, can I ask you something personal?” “No.” “What if it’s something important?”
“It can’t be important if it’s something ‘personal,’ because you’re not entitled to know anything about my personal life.” “Are you really as bad as all the tabloids say you are?” She raised her eyebrow. “Like, when do you possibly find the time to sleep with so many women since you’re always here working?” I could’ve sworn I said no ... I gave her a blank stare. “I deserve to know what type of man I’m working for,” she said, crossing her arms. “Especially if this man wants me to keep the truth about how difficult he is to work for under wraps.” “Are you threatening to blackmail me?” “No.” She smiled. “I just really want to know if your sex life is as exciting as the
press makes it seem. I actually think it’s pretty hot, and off the record, I am totally willing to look past the non-fraternization policy if you ever want to try me out.” She lowered her voice. “I can be naughty in the bedroom, too. I can let you have my pussy, and you can leave me hanging in the hotel lobby afterwards, if that’s what you’re into.” Jesus... “Can we please get started with the work?” I rolled my eyes. “I need your thoughts on the titles you were assigned so we can send them down to marketing tomorrow.” “So, right after that I can go?” No, right after that I can ‘fire’ you ... “Yes.” I cleared my throat. “What did you think of Grisham’s latest?”
“His latest what?” “His latest book.” I pointed at the box she’d brought in, at the advanced copy of The Whistler. “It was one of the three legal thrillers you were supposed to read this month.” “Oh, yeah.” She picked up the hardback and flipped through its pages. “I thought it was very good. Very legal, very thrilling.” “Can you please be slightly more specific than that?” “I really liked the book’s cover a lot.” She ran her fingers across the cover. “He really pulled me into the story with it, you know? This image of the boats docked at an orange sunset sea was quite compelling. I think the graphic artist definitely deserves an award.”
Silence. “We’ll come back to the thrillers,” I said finally. “You were also supposed to read five romance novels. Which one would you recommend the most?” “Well,” she said, leaning forward and pouring herself a cup of coffee. “It was a hard choice, and I do mean a really hard choice, but ... Out of the amazing ones I was assigned, I think loved the one that ended in a happily ever after the best.” “Every romance novel ends in a happily ever after, Penelope.” I felt my blood pressure rising. “That’s what makes it a fucking romance.” “Really? Wow. I never knew that. So, I guess I loved them all!”
I stared at her, clenching my jaw. I always thought she was on the incompetent side from the very day she started, from the moment she said, “So, you’re a literary publishing company and you only publish books? Why not movies?” And somehow, I’d managed to look past that. But this? This was bullshit and she was far worse than any of my other failed and fired assistants. “Have you read any of the front-list books, Penelope?” “No, but only because I didn’t know that I personally had to.” She slurped her coffee. “I mean the books got read, but you never said that I was the person who actually had to read them.” “What the hell are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m working really smart here. I hired a virtual assistant and paid her a couple hundred bucks to read all of them. Oh, and I sent a few of them to some book bloggers on Facebook that I follow. They like, totally live for this reading stuff so they’ll probably have those ARCs done even sooner. Can you believe they like, actually enjoy reading?” “Let me get this straight ...” I tried to keep my voice calm. “I hired you to be my executive assistant and you outsourced all of your work to other people?” “Not all my work. Just the stuff I don’t want to do. I mean, occasionally, I’ll read a page or two to keep my brain refreshed, but reading isn’t really my thing. And you only gave me a month to read ten books. Ten, Mr.
Leighton.... That’s technically hard labor and I could sue.” “This is a fucking—” I caught myself. “This is a publishing company. We publish books, and books being ‘your thing’ is the very first thing we asked about on your application.” “Oh, I lied about that part, but only that part. Everything else I wrote was honest, especially the part about wanting to work under a sexy CEO for a change.” “Penelope ...” I held back a groan. I didn’t need to waste any more of my time with this. “You can get the hell of out my office now.” “Really?” She stood up smiling. “I was hoping we’d get out of here early. My favorite show will be on in an hour. You
know, maybe you should ask me to review TV shows—I’m sure I’d impress you that way.” She shrugged and headed to the door. “See you tomorrow!” The second she left my office, I sent my advisor, Brad, an email.
Subject: Tell HR to Fire My Executive Assistant. Now. Right now. Michael Leighton, CEO, Leighton Publishing
I walked over to my beverage cabinet and unlocked it, pouring myself a much needed shot of scotch. I downed it and quickly poured another. As it was burning its way down my throat, Brad’s ringtone sounded on my cell phone. “Yes?” I answered. “You want to take one good guess as to what I’m looking at right now?” “Depends on if I’ll win a prize for getting it right or not.” “I’m staring at the cover of Page Six with an undeniably-not photo-shopped picture of you. It’s definitely you and one of your ridiculously expensive watches with a Cuban cigar between your lips.” “Sounds like a very good photo. Feel free to send me a copy.”
“Oh, but that’s not the best part of this photo. The best part is the three bikini clad women with messy hair who literally look like they’ve all just fucked you. Would you at least like to guess the headline?” “You still haven’t mentioned a prize. Is there a prize?” “Playboy CEO Beds Three Busty Blondes in Belize. What do you have to say for yourself, Michael?” “Not much.” I walked over to my desk and clicked on the picture he’d emailed me. “They did a brilliant job with the use of alliteration in the title, though. They must have finally hired a competent editor.” “God, Michael ...” He sucked in a breath and sighed. “Do we have any grounds to
threaten them with retraction and defamation, or is this true?” “It’s partially true.” “Which part?” “The part about me being in Belize.” “Please stop fucking with me.” “Fine.” I smiled. “I only ‘bedded’ two of the busty blondes. Not three.” “Oh, just two. Well that’s quite comforting and I guess they owe you an apology. Not. Anything else?” “Yes. The article says I’m wearing a Rolex in the photo. I haven’t worn a Rolex in over five years.” “Ugh.” He groaned. “I’m using one hundred thousand dollars of our public relations account to prevent them from running this on Friday. I’m also sending them
an additional two hundred to three hundred fifty thousand to refrain from mentioning your name or running your picture for the next two months.” “Thank you.” “Please don’t. I’ll need a list of everything you’ve done over the past eight months so I can clean it up in advance. And you know, for someone who plans to take his company public within the next two years, I would think that you would try a lot harder to clean up your image and stay out of the press. Otherwise, the only investors you’ll attract will be me and you.” “Noted.” I poured one last shot of scotch. “Did you get my email about needing a new executive assistant?” “Another one? This is number seven.”
“Eight. However, I’ve yet to be sent a competent one. Perhaps if you used a different screening agency, or at least let me sit in on some of the interviews—” “No. I’ll tell you what I will do, though. But only if you do something for me.” I was silent, so he continued. “Could you kindly keep your dick in your pants for the next twelve months and try not to fuck anyone?” Twelve months? “Anyone?” “ANYONE. ANY-ONE.” He enunciated every syllable. “At least anyone who will definitely draw attention to you and your unfortunate, insatiable ways. And that includes all the women you have lined up for this week. Your assistants may not have known what those small blue dots on your
digital calendar mean, but I do. Cancel them all right now. You can sleep with whoever you want again after you successfully go public.” I hesitated for a long while, but I realized that what he was saying made perfect sense for the sake of the company and my image. “Fine,” I said at last, begrudgingly sending them all my standard, “Something just came up. I’ll have to reschedule,” message and walked over to my windows. “I’m not going to use our partner agency to find your new assistant. I’m going to handle this personally. Any requirements on your end?” “Hiring someone who is capable of reading a book is a good start. I’d also prefer someone ten to fifteen years older than me,
married or already engaged, submissive enough to complete tasks without sarcasm, Ivy League education, and someone who knows how to tell the goddamn time.” “Yeah, okay. Let’s put up the job description in those exact words and see how much of a field day the press has with that one.” “I’m willing to bend on the Ivy League part if it’s a college with a good reputation. I’m not bending on anything else.” “We’ll see.” He was definitely rolling his eyes, and I could tell he was about to give me his much repeated lecture about hiring laws and blind interviews, so I beat him to it. “Just get me the best person for the job. I’ll wait however long it takes since this
“fire today, hire tomorrow” approach isn’t working. And actually, just get me someone who impresses you, because if that’s the case, I know this person will impress me.” “Now, you’re finally thinking smart,” he said. “Give me six weeks. I’ll screen the hell out of everyone and make sure the next executive assistant you have is someone who’ll last over a year. “Thank you, Brad.” I hung up, wanting to feel optimistic, but with my track record, I knew the odds of me employing the same executive assistant for a year were highly unlikely. Just like I knew the chances of me going twelve months without fucking someone were too unbelievable to completely fathom. I’ll try it though....
Naughty Boss is Book #1 in the Steamy Coffee Reads Collection and can be purchased here.
SNEAK PEEK OF REASONABLE DOUBT
Prologue Andrew New York City is nothing more than a shit-filled wasteland, a dump where failures are forced to drop all their broken dreams and leave them far behind. The flashing lights that shined brightly years ago have lost their luster, and that fresh feeling that once permeated the air—that hopefulness, is long gone. Every person I once considered a friend is now an enemy, and the word “trust” has been ripped from my vocabulary. My name
and reputation are tarnished, thanks to the press, and after reading the headline that The New York Times ran this morning, I’ve decided that tonight will be the last night I ever spend here. I can’t deal with the cold sweats and nightmares that jerk me out of my sleep anymore, and as hard as I try to pretend like my heart hasn’t been obliterated, I doubt that the agonizing ache in my chest will ever go away. To properly say goodbye, I’ve ordered the best entrées from all my favorite restaurants, watched Death of a Salesman on Broadway, and smoked a Cuban cigar on the Brooklyn Bridge. I’ve also booked the penthouse suite at the Waldorf Astoria, where I’m now leaning back on the bed and
threading my fingers through a woman’s hair —groaning as she slides her mouth over my cock. Teasingly darting her tongue around my tip, she whispers, “Do you like this?” as she looks up at me. I don’t answer. I push her head down and exhale as she presses her lips against my balls, as she covers my cock with her hands and moves them up and down. Over the past two hours, I’ve fucked her against the wall, forced her to bend over a chair, and pinned her legs to the mattress while I devoured her pussy. It’s been quite fulfilling—fun, but I know this feeling will only last for so long; it never stays. In less than a week, I’ll have to find someone else.
As she takes me deeper and deeper into her mouth, I tightly tug her hair—tensing as she bobs her head up and down. Pleasure begins to course its way through me, and the muscles in my legs stiffen—forcing me to let go and warn her to pull away. She ignores me. She grips my knees and sucks faster, letting my cock touch the back of her throat. I give her one last chance to move away, but since her lips remain wrapped around me, she leaves me no choice but to cum in her mouth. And then she swallows. Every. Last. Drop. Impressive... Finally pulling away, she licks her lips and leans back against the floor.
“That was my first time swallowing,” she says. “I did that just for you.” “You shouldn’t have.” I stand and zip my pants. “You should’ve saved it for someone else.” “Right. Well, um...Do you want to order some dinner? Maybe we could eat it over HBO and go at it again afterwards?” I raise my eyebrow, confused. This is always the most annoying part, the part when the woman who previously agreed to “One dinner. One night. No repeats.” wants to establish some type of imaginary connection. For whatever reason, she feels like there needs to be some type of closure conversation, some bland reassurance that’ll confirm that what just
happened was ‘more than sex,’ and we’ll become friends. But it was just sex, and I’m not in need of any friends. Not now, not ever. “No, thank you.” I walk over to the mirror on the other side of the room. “I have someplace to be.” “At three in the morning? I mean, if you just want to skip the HBO and go for another round instead, I can...” Her irritating voice fades into my thoughts, and I begin to button my shirt. I’ve never spent the night with a woman I met online, and she isn’t going to be the first. As I adjust my tie, I look down and spot a tattered pink wallet on the dresser. Picking it up, I flip it open and run my fingers across
the name that’s printed onto her license: Sarah Tate. Even though I’ve only known this woman for a week, she’s always answered to “Samantha.” She’s also told me —repeatedly, that she works as a nurse at Grace Hospital. Judging by the Wal-Mart employee card that’s hiding behind her license, I’m assuming that part isn’t true either. I look over my shoulder, where she’s now sprawled across the bed’s silk sheets. Her creamy colored skin is unmarred and smooth; her bow shaped lips are slightly swollen and puffy. Her green eyes meet mine and she slowly sits up, spreading her legs further apart,
whispering, “You know you want to stay. Stay...” My cock starts to harden—it’s definitely up for another round, but seeing her real name has ruined any chance of that for me. I can’t stand to be around someone who’s lied to me, even if she does have double D tits and a mouth from heaven. I toss the wallet into her lap. “You told me your name was Samantha.” “Okay. And?” “Your name is Sarah.” “So what?” She shrugs, beckoning me with her hand. “I never give my real name to men I meet on the internet.” “You just fuck them in five-star hotel suites?”
“Why do you suddenly care about my real name?” “I don’t.” I glance at my watch. “Are you spending the night in this room or do I need to give you cab money to get home?” “What?” “Was my question unclear?” “Wow...Just, wow...” She shakes her head. “How much longer do you think you’ll be able to keep doing this?” “Keep doing what?” “Chatting someone up for a week, fucking her, and moving on to the next. How much longer?” “Until my dick stops working.” I put on my jacket. “Do you need cab fare or are you staying? Check out is at noon.”
“Do you know that men like you —relationship avoiders, are the type that typically fall the hardest?” “Did they teach you that at Wal-Mart?” “Just because someone from your past hurt you, doesn’t mean that every woman after her will.” She purses her lips. “That’s probably why you are the way you are. Maybe if you tried to actually date someone, you’d be a lot happier. You should take her out for dinner and actually listen, see her to her door without expecting an invitation inside, and maybe bypass the whole ‘let’s go fuck’ in the hotel suite thing at the end.” Where are my keys? I need to go. Now. “I can see it now...” She can’t seem to shut up. “You’re going to want more than sex one day, and the person you want it from is
going to be someone you least expect. Someone who will force you to give in.” I pull my keys from underneath her crumpled dress and sigh. “Do you need cab money?” “I have my own car, dick-face.” She rolls her eyes. “Are you really this incapable of having a regular conversation? Would it kill you to talk to me for a few minutes after sex?” “We have nothing more to discuss.” I set my room key on the nightstand and walk toward the door. “It was very nice meeting you, Samantha, Sarah. Whatever the hell your name is. Have a great night.” “Screw you!” “Three times was more than enough. No, thank you.”
“Things are going to catch up to you one day, asshole!” She yells as I step into the hallway. “Karma is one hell of a bitch!” “I know.” I toss back. “I fucked her two weeks ago...” Reasonable Doubt #1 is currently FREE on all platforms, and the full series (Episodes 1-3) is now available in a full series boxed set!
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