Title: The Doctor Will See You
Author: Lana Brazen
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Erotica
Release Date: December 26, 2019
Release Date: December 26, 2019
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 an erotic 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 short erotic tale of pure
pleasure.
Caroline's Review
✮✮✮✮✮
Smokin’ HAWT little quickie!!
This was a story which was, at once, clinical but highly erotic. It was an exploration of a woman's sexuality and self-discovery aided along by a man who remained seemingly detached, until her effect on him starts to crack through his aloof demeanour.
"I love how you let me do anything to you. So inexperienced yet so receptive."
I was wholly intrigued by this story and what would happen next. Lana was open and willing, if somewhat trepidatious, in her explorations. She was pretty brave considering she was putting her trust in a complete stranger. James was something of a mystery that is unraveled towards the end of the story, but there's no denying that Lana and her personal journey is the star of the story.
This was a thrilling and rather exciting story and just enough of a quick read between longer novels. Looking forward to the next one in the series!
Purchase Links
99c for a limited time!
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Excerpt
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.”
Author 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.
Author Links
No comments:
Post a Comment