Curing Doctor Vincent (The Good Doctor Trilogy Book 1)

by Mason, Renea

  His words did things to me—a strange, hot seduction.

  “Why two men?”

  “Ever make love to two men at once?”

  I wasn’t a prude by any means but… “No!”

  “It was Lydia’s favorite indulgence on special occasions. And you, my dear, are special.” He grasped my upper arms and fixed me with his gaze. “I want our time together to be memorable. Perhaps I’m selfish for wanting to give you an experience you’ll never be able to duplicate. But isn’t that every man’s desire when he makes love to his woman?” He squeezed my arms tighter and pulled me closer to him.

  I couldn’t breathe. It was all so unbelievable. Heat was building between my thighs and I tried to look away from him, but couldn’t.

  He released my arms. “After this week you return home and nothing changes.”

  “Just like that. Nothing changes?”

  I turned, picked up the folder, and slumped into the chair. I opened the folder, looked at the photos again and then back to the doctor. “And if I don’t agree?” Would I be fired?

  He sat and crossed his legs. “You can go sightseeing for a week or whatever you choose.” He leaned forward. “Paris is a lovely city, but you’ll always wonder what it would have been like. Imagine just how good it might have been.” He leaned back again. “Either way, you choose. When you return home, you go back to being you and I remain me, half a world away. Prostitution is a financial transaction; I have no interest in that. What I’m asking is for you to be my lover for this one week in Paris.”

  I put my face in my hands. This was a train wreck. What in the hell was I going to do?

  “If you choose to indulge me, you’ll discover ecstasy that few ever experience. I don’t want your answer tonight. You’re tired and in need of a good night’s sleep.” He stood and reached for my hand. “Let me show you to your room.”

  Speechless. I stood, but took the glass of wine instead of his hand. I would need it. Stowing the folder under my arm, I followed him out of the room and up the winding staircase.

  At the door to my room, he paused. “Elaine, there is no pressure. I only want this to happen if you want it to. If you have any doubt, please decline. I have no desire to force your will. I chose you of all the women I see day in and day out for several reasons—your confidence, for one. It tells me you’ll see the offer for what it is—an opportunity. Your strong independence will let you see this situation without gender bias. Someone weaker would allow social norms of what a woman should do, or not do, sexually get in the way of enjoyment. You will not and that is important to me.”

  “You don’t know me. This is insane.” I brought the glass to my lips and drained every last drop.

  “Is it? It was your compassion that sealed the deal for me. You can see past my limitations, just as you did your father’s, and your honesty and ethics will keep you from destroying me with this knowledge if you choose to walk away. Is that insane?”

  “Yes. Yes it is.” I reached for the door handle.

  “Sleep on it. Look over the files. Remember, you are in a foreign city. No one will ever know.” He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, but paused to breathe in my ear, “I would be ever so grateful.” He allowed his words to settle in before saying, “Sweet dreams, my Elaine.”

  I turned the handle and stumbled through the door. The photos of the nude men, along with various other pieces of paper, scattered across the floor. I bent over to pick them up, hand still on the knob. I paused and stared at the man labeled Marco, with the over-sized penis. Damn! Did they really make men like that? The feeling of being watched overcame me and I lifted my eyes to find the doctor observing with a mischievous grin.

  “Good night, Doctor.” I slammed the door.

  ****

  Insanity. He couldn’t be serious, could he? I stared at the photos again and leafed through the paperwork while peripherally taking in the beauty of the old-world French decor. The room was lovely, with its black and white patterns and plush linens, but I couldn’t stop looking at the pictures. Who agrees to something like this? My first reaction to most things was to apply logic. Find the easiest path, the quickest, safest solution. Was he right? If I were to say no, would I be consumed with “what if?” later on? Would not knowing what could’ve happened be a bigger burden than the memory of the wildest sex romp of all time? I was in Paris on his whim for Christ’s sake. Could I go through with it? Could I not?

  “Damn you, Dr. Vincent.” It was just sex after all. I’d had my share of experiences and appreciated the need to scratch an itch, but never did I think to involve an audience. The men he’d chosen were beyond gorgeous, but it was the doctor’s charm and intellect that I found most appealing. If he had simply asked me to be his lover, we would have been naked in front of the fire before the night was out, but this was new territory. These other men were strangers. Still, the one named Marco’s come-hither stare was tantalizing. In high school I had fantasized about my two best friends dragging me behind the stage and having their way with me, so my curiosity was piqued.

  What person in their right mind turns down Dr. Vincent? What person in their right mind agrees to his arrangement? Could I have sex with someone watching, especially if that someone was him?

  I sighed, “Stan’s kids. I’ll consider it for Stan’s kids.” I said it out loud, but it was the weakest excuse of all. Still, temptation had me reaching for anything. I picked up the extra papers and placed them on the dresser. A hot shower, a good night’s sleep and a prayer for clarity were in order.

  Chapter Four

  Le Jules Verne

  The next day, the Paris sunlight streamed through the cracks in the black and white patterned drapes in Dr. Vincent’s guest room. But it was the decorative garment bag sitting on the nightstand that caught my eye.

  Attached to the front with a ribbon was a small envelope. I removed it, and then slid my finger along the seam. I pulled a card with a large ‘V’ on the front from the paper.

  Dearest Elaine,

  I hope you have rested well and that your dreams were sweet. I pray my offer is a distraction big enough to eclipse all your troubles.

  Please forgive me, I have a few errands to run this morning, but please make yourself at home. Pierre will take you wherever you would like to go, but I do hope that you’ll consider joining Marco, Sebastian and me at Le Jules Verne tonight at 6:00 PM. I have picked out something special for you to wear, should you chose to join us.

  With love,

  Xavier

  P.S. You are just as beautiful when you sleep.

  Distraction, indeed. Maybe he had a point.

  ****

  The car door opened. Dr. Vincent’s driver helped me out. I looked up at that great work of art—the Eiffel Tower. I didn’t know it had a restaurant inside. The doctor’s flair for the dramatic knew no bounds.

  The dusty rose awning that covered the iron stairs read, Le Jules Verne. The crisp Parisian air filled my lungs causing a shiver to rush through my body. Was it a chill, or fear of the unknown?

  “Thank you.” I nodded to Pierre.

  He returned the gesture, but otherwise remained still, with his hands clasped behind his back.

  When I’d agreed to dinner, a small French bistro had come to mind, not this. What the hell was I thinking? Would I be able to refuse him? Did I even want to? As the doctor indicated on his card, I had been looking for a distraction from the hailstorm of my life. Careful what you wish for.

  I took each step slowly, hiking the hem of the blue velvet dress I’d found in the bag earlier that morning. The metal of the great structure amplified the click of my heels.

  After thinking all night and spending all day drinking in the Paris sunlight that saturated the veranda attached to my quarters, I had decided not knowing what could have been would be the greater burden. Was I crazy? Perhaps. Was I certain? Absolutely not. But I was decisive.

  I was confident enough to make the choice and live with it, but what stee
led my decision was a deep seated hope entwined with guilt; hope that I might give back more than a vicarious thrill to repay him for benefiting from his loss. The doctor had changed my life forever. Could I do the same for him?

  This was it. No turning back.

  I didn’t pass a single person on the way to the elevator, which seemed odd, given the bustle of nightlife on the street outside.

  The doors opened into a beautiful modern restaurant filled with empty tables. It was silent except for soft, vintage French music playing overhead. The windows that lined the space provided a breathtaking view of the city.

  “Mademoiselle, if you’ll follow me.” A man in his twenties, wearing a black tie, white shirt, black pants and a white linen napkin tucked into the waist of his half-apron, lead me to a half-booth, a black leather bench on one side and two chairs on the other, that sat against the far wall. “Dr. Vincent and his associates will be here shortly.” His English was perfect but accented. He motioned me toward the black leather bench-seat.

  Mesmerized by the twinkling city lights, I stared out the window as the maître d’ poured water into a glass on the table before taking his leave.

  “Breathtaking.” With just one word the doctor lit a flame—the promise of things to come.

  “Yes, it is.” I turned, confirming it was indeed him. In his black business suit and red tie, the doctor exuded sophistication. His American accent hinted at his highbrow schooling.

  “Not Paris. You. When I imagined you wearing that dress I didn’t think there could be a more pleasing picture, but seeing you now… You are exquisite.”

  I folded my hands in my lap and focused on them, not wanting him to see the blush that flooded my cheeks, caused by the heat he triggered in me far too often. He pulled out his chair. As soon as he sat, the waiter filled his glass with sparkling water. The man paused and asked, “Your usual vintage, Doctor?”

  “Yes. Thank you, Jacques.”

  “Where is everyone?” I couldn’t imagine a tourist attraction being closed with the amount of foot traffic outside.

  “This place is ours for the evening. We have…important matters to discuss.” He winked. “I figured the fewer spectators the better.”

  I raised the glass to my lips and swallowed hard. “Yes, very wise.”

  A smile crossed his face. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you came tonight. As nervous as I’m sure you have been, the uncertainty gnawed at me all night. I know it’s a lot to ask.”

  “It is a lot to ask. I can’t promise I’ll be able to see it through.”

  “The fact that you are willing to try means more than you will ever know. A few housekeeping things…”

  The waiter placed two glasses of red wine on the table and a tray of cheeses.

  The doctor took the small knife and sliced off a thin piece, placed it on a cracker and handed it to me. He spoke as he prepared his own, “You saw the medical files I included with the photos. Marco and Sebastian have been tested. There is no risk to you, and for their safety, you were tested during your physical last week.”

  “What?” Son of a bitch! The crumbs of the cracker stuck in my throat. I coughed.

  “I’m a medical doctor, Elaine. I called in a favor with Dr. Lawrence. I told her that you agreed to participate in one of my studies as a control subject and that I needed additional samples.” He took a sip of wine.

  “You had no right.”

  “You’re right, but for this to work I had to make sure everyone was safe and needed to know you were taking precautions. The only lasting consequence I want from this encounter is for you to get wet every time you think of me.”

  Little did he know, he already had his wish, but it didn’t trump the fact he’d overstepped his bounds. “Doctor, I don’t think this is such a good—”

  “Marco. Sebastian. Welcome.” The doctor rose and motioned for the men to sit beside me, one on either side, flanking me on the bench-seat.

  Holy shit. Men like that did exist. Their pictures didn’t do them justice. And there was no mystery to what lurked behind Marco’s zipper. Whoa. Deep breath.

  “Marco. Sebastian. This is my Elaine.”

  Marco took my hand out of my lap and brought it to his full lips and kissed the back. “Elaine. It is all my pleasure.” His dark hair made him look mysterious and ruggedly handsome.

  “Elaine. This is Marco.”

  I stared at the man as his hand grasped mine. Blink, I needed to blink. “Ah…hello.” The doctor was handsome—a young, Pierce Brosnan gorgeous. Marco was romance novel cover model perfect. Would I survive?

  The doctor looked toward the other man in his dark business suit and tie. “Sebastian, isn’t she lovely?”

  Sebastian took my hand from Marco’s and brought it to his lips. “Lovely doesn’t do her justice, X.” His soft, warm lips touched the back of my hand.

  The doctor relaxed in his seat. “Elaine was just telling me that she was having second thoughts.”

  I looked for any trace of smugness on his face, but there was none to be found. Simple fact.

  “Won’t you at least enjoy a meal?” A heavy Italian accent amplified Marco’s sex appeal. The waiter returned and placed a glass of wine in front of him. “No one will force you into anything. If you change your mind, it’s fine.”

  “Fine, but I’m not happy you invaded my privacy.” I glared at the doctor.

  “I’m sorry. I hope that you understand, I meant you no harm. Marco is a close friend of mine—my protégé of sorts. He’s one of the scientists on my team and I need to make sure he is safe if we ever want to see another cure. Sebastian is a fellow doctor, a close family friend. And you… You are my sole purpose for existing this week. Please understand.”

  “So, I’m the only stranger?”

  “Yes. But I told you trust is important to me. They would never do anything to hurt you. We’ve all taken the oath to heal, not harm. Besides, it’s not like the three of us have seen each other in this capacity. This is a new experience for all of us. So, if you’re worried, you could say that we’re all virgins in this play.”

  Sebastian laughed. “Yes, but you won’t have the unfortunate experience of having images of Marco’s hairy ass pop into your head, making for all kinds of awkward scenarios.”

  Marco reached around me and pointed to Sebastian, “I’ll have you know, my ass is not hairy. I had it waxed last week.”

  The doctor shot them a condemning look and said, “I think Elaine gets the point.”

  “So, you’re all doctors?” I looked from the doctor, to Marco and then Sebastian.

  Marco chuckled. “Yes, but they like to tease me that I don’t count since I’ve never directly treated patients outside of med. school. Give me a petri dish and a microscope any day.”

  This was crazier than I thought. I looked at Marco. “You’re OK with this?”

  “Xavier has been my friend for a very long time. I want to help him, and it’s not as though we don’t get something out of it. You’re a beautiful woman. It would be my honor to give you pleasure for days on end. Has he told you what he likes best?” He glanced at the doctor.

  Was that a blush on the good doctor’s face? “No. He hasn’t.”

  “He likes to watch a woman come. So it’s our job to keep you on the edge of ecstasy for the next week. Of course, only if you agree.” He took a sip of wine, gazing at me over the rim of the glass.

  I didn’t answer, but took a gulp of my own.

  ****

  “And then Xavier said, ‘Oh fuck it. I’m going to Barbados.’ We all thought he was kidding. Several hours later, he sends us a picture of his pasty white feet with the ocean in the background. That’s how he deals with stress.” They all laughed.

  “That’s too funny.” I chuckled and washed down a bite of chocolate soufflé with the heady wine. I wasn’t sure if it was the wine, the food, or the fact that the men seemed so at ease with the situation and each other, but my nerves had settled and I enjoyed the com
pany.

  In the several hours that had passed, Marco painted a picture of Dr. Vincent as a man who loved the people he worked with and who garnered the same respect. Sebastian told embarrassing stories of drunken holiday parties and the doctor’s fondness for art. The bond between the three men was undeniable and as the wine flowed, the tension in the room eased.

  Dr. Vincent glanced out the window and sighed. “Elaine…my sweet, would you do me a huge favor?”

  I wiped a smudge of chocolate from my lip with the napkin. “Sure. What do you need?” I popped the last morsel of the decadent dessert into my mouth.

  He leaned across the table, locked his gaze with mine. “I want you to slide that velvet up your thighs until it’s gathered at your waist. Then I want you to take your panties off and hand them to me. Can you do that for me?”

  I stopped chewing and stared.

  His steel blue eyes mesmerized. “Elaine, you are so beautiful. Please, I want to see you. All of you.”

  The choice was mine. But was there really one? A decision between ‘what if’ and ‘remember when.’

  Trapped in his sights and between his two beautiful friends, I chose to stop thinking. As if commanded, I gathered the hem of the dress in my fists and lifted. Lace tickled my legs as I pulled my panties free of the first foot, then the other. Still shielded by the tablecloth, I handed the small strip of fabric to the doctor.

  He rolled them up and placed them in his pocket. He pulled the table toward him so I was no longer obscured. “Did you know there’s a connection between the shape of a woman’s mouth and her ability to orgasm?”

  I swallowed hard. “Ah… no.” His brilliant eyes reflected the specks of light cast by the city.

  “You can see it. When I looked at you for the first time…” He reached out and outlined my lips without touching me. “It’s right there. It tells all. When you’re in a public place and desire hits, do you rub your thighs together? Do you look around and wonder if anyone knows your secret? Well, I do.”

  I couldn’t speak. He was right. I had always been in touch with my sexual side. In the theater, in my classes, in meetings at work, I worked myself to the brink of orgasm with only my thoughts and clenching muscles. It was my guilty pleasure. My dirty little secret. Sometimes I failed to stop short. Damn, he was good.