The
Doctor Will See You
By Lana
Brazen
Contemporary
romance/erotica
Release
Date: December 26, 2019
Release
Special:
99 cents until 12.31.2019
LINKS:
#Free in #KindleUnlimited
BLURB:
He wasn't a doctor,
and she wasn't a patient.
But she had needs, and
he fit the prognosis.
Lana Blasen is a forty-something,
divorcée frustrated by dating in the modern age.
A chance encounter in
a coffee shop introduces her to an awakening she hadn't ever considered.
Dr. James Lubton works
wonders as the third person in a party of three.
But what happens when
he wants to be the other side of only a pair?
In a passionate
relationship, when role-playing becomes more than an act,
a deeper connection is
diagnosed,
and emotions could be
a side effect when the doctor will see you…
‘The Doctor Will See
You’ is a quick and steamy tale of pure pleasure.
AUTHOR LINKS:
FB:
www.facebook.com/lanabrazenromanceNL:
www.subscribepage.com/lanabrazenromanceGR:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19736279.Lana_BrazenBB:
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lana-brazenAZ:
https://www.amazon.com/author/lanabrazenAUTHOR BIO:
Lana
Brazen is the alter ego of a bestselling contemporary romance author who believes
romance doesn’t need to end just because you crossed over forty. In a fantasy
life, she was an anthropologist, a journalist and a world-famous novelist on
the level of F. Scott Fitzgerald. None of that has happened. Instead, she’s
written over twenty romances, mothered four children and remains with the one
and only. Sometimes, she likes things a little hotter, spicier, raunchier than
contemporary trysts, and so begins this chapter.
EXCERPT
The
Doctor Will See You
(excerpt) by Lana Brazen
I
didn’t know what I’d gotten myself into. Recently divorced, I’d met a young
woman who just listened to me rant. I didn’t know why I felt the need to
expound my current sexual status on her, but the dating apps had frustrated me.
Who could you trust on there? Singles adventure clubs? The annual fees
were high, and only half the activities interested me. And then there were the
simple singles bars, which I entered once before turning right back around and
leaving.
Being
unmarried sucked in this aspect. The issue was I still wanted sex. I
didn’t want to be alone with only my fingers. I wanted the feel of a man—the
wet of his tongue, the curl of his fingers, and the strength of his hands on
me—and I was getting desperate.
“Have
you ever considered swinging?” she suggested, and I nearly fell off my chair. A
southern Florida coffee shop seemed like the last place to have this kind of
discussion and with a stranger, no less, but she didn’t look like a social
deviant. In fact, she looked normal. Average in height, dark brunette hair, the
body of someone still youthful, with friendly eyes, and a wedding band.
“Never
thought of it,” I said after choking on my tea.
She
paused for a moment as if she were assessing me and then added, “Not everyone
who swings is married. Some are in relationships, and some are single. People
participate in all manner of combinations. Couples who want a third party or a
single participant looking for a couple who shares. Sometimes, it’s just a
mutual agreement between three, but the term comes more so from those looking
to experiment within a relationship.”
I
stare down at my paper placemat, uncertain how to respond. It sounded crazy and
a bit obscene, but I wasn’t one to judge. I was jealous, in a way. Maybe if Stan
and I had experimented more or been a bit more adventurous, things wouldn’t
have gotten to the point where they ended. Especially with him in the bed of
his secretary.
“Here’s
my name,” she said, offering it on a paper napkin along with a phone number.
“If you have any questions. Otherwise, I’d recommend contacting this number.
He’s a doctor.” She winked after handing me the napkin, and I took it, smiling
good-naturedly even though I knew I’d never call.
However,
the numbers haunted me, and a week later, when I was cleaning out the old
receipts in my purse, the napkin remained intact with her perfect script and
two phone numbers, the second marked with an asterisk.
“Dr.
Lubton’s office,” a masculine voice answers on the second ring, and the
professional confidence in his voice surprises me.
“I…I’m
looking for the doctor.” I swallow back the sudden stutter. “Jessica DeMarco
suggested I call.”
A
heavy pause of silence weighs through the phone for a second, and I wonder if
I’ve lost the connection. “Hello?”
“Were
you looking for a full exam?” he questions, and I remember Jessica mentioning
to request such a thing. I nod, and then recall he can’t see me.
“Yes.”
“And
will your husband be joining you?” I blink down at the napkin, pinched between
my fingers.
“I
don’t have a husband.” Silence falls again, and after another weighted second,
I ask, “Do I need one?”
A
soft chuckle fills the line, reassuring instead of mocking. “No.” Pause.
“But may I ask if this will be your first exam of this sort?”
Closing
my eyes, I think, What am I doing? I’m no longer certain, and not
certain how to answer, so I go with the truth. “Yes.”
“I
see, and for the purposes of an initial consultation, would you prefer an
assistant be in the room?”
Did
I want someone else present?
A witness to my humiliation? Again, I wasn’t certain what exactly I was getting
myself into, any more than I knew how to answer the question. Deciding that
embarrassing myself in my lack of knowledge should best be done alone, I reply,
“I think I’ll be okay without one.”
“Very
well.” There wasn’t a hint of a smile or frown in his tone, but the continued
smoothness of a true doctor. Good bedside manner. I want to laugh out
loud at the pun. Instead, I wait for his instructions on how to proceed.
“I
have an eleven o’clock on Thursday open.” It’s strange to consider he does this
more than one time a day with more than one person, possibly more than one
person at a time, and I realize I’m at great risk of making a fool of
myself. Not to mention, can I muster my libido midmorning on a weekday? Remain
open-minded, I remind myself. He called it a consultation. Maybe he really is a
doctor. Maybe we only discuss options. Maybe he can explain what’s happening to
me at forty-five as a single woman, previously married, and desperately seeking
pleasure.
“Thursday
would be fine,” I say, knowing my calendar is flexible. I’m a real estate
agent. The southern Florida market ebbs and flows based on weather predictions
and the hurricane season. I’m mildly successful but wish I was doing better.
Older people are a key to my accomplishments, and I fear one day I’ll be
classified as one of them. Old.
“Please
dress comfortably and be prepared to sign a consent form.” The instructions
surprise me, and once again, I nod. “I look forward to meeting you.”
Dr. James Lubton has a very unique specialty. Does he have a degree for real? YES! But it deals with other parts of the anatomy. His "unique" specialty is one just right for women who want to "swing" with no attachments or complications. He will see you by referral and appointment ONLY. His bedside manner is gentle and supportive. He is a gentleman after all! If you want an assistant present, he is more than willing to accomodate your needs.
If you were in your forties and recently divorced, wouldn't you want to see this doctor for what ails you? Loved this book. Steamy and sweet, be prepared with an open mind!
I am voluntarily reviewing this book. Thanks to the author for sharing a copy with me.
“Why are you here alone, Rick Savage?”
He fixes me in a deep blue stare, and I swear I’m drifting in a sea of this man’s making. “To meet you. I just didn’t know it yet.”
The rain explodes around us again, an eternal roughening of the windows that only Texas does with such force. Thunder erupts with it, lightning in the distance, and I don’t know who moves first. Him or me. Suddenly though we’re in the middle of the seat and his fingers are tangling all rough and wonderfully in my hair, his mouth lowering to mine. “I’m going to kiss you now unless you object,” he says.
“Kiss me already, Savage.”
“Rick. Call me Rick.” And then his lips collide with my lips, his tongue a deep stroke of pure heat that has me moaning with the rush of sensation that assaults my body in the best of ways.
My arms slide around his muscular back, body pressing against his body, the hard lines of this incredible man absorbing more than the softer part of me. That need to be touched explodes inside me, demanding satisfaction. He pulls back and stares down at me. “Do you want to get out of here? Together.”
I tell myself this is crazy, insane, wildly out of my character. “I don’t do things like this. Ever.”
He kisses me again and leaves me breathless. “Make me the first.”
