Her Cocky Doctors (A MFM Menage Romance) (The Cocky Series Book 1)

by Tara Crescent

  “In the morning?” Elvira Grantham eats breakfast at an unearthly hour. The only thing I want before seven is sleep. Then again, I’m just as curious about the clinic as Blake is. “Fine,” I grumble. “I guess it won’t kill me to wake up at dawn.”

  The next morning, Elvira surveys me with eyes that dance with amusement. “Declan,” she exclaims. “Out of bed before seven. Will wonders never cease?” She pours a cup of coffee and hands it to me.

  I seize on the caffeinated lifeline. Blake waits for his great-aunt to butter her toast. “You’ve heard about the Clinic of Love, I take it?” he asks her when she’s done.

  She shakes her head. “I wish the two of you would have talked to me before you agreed to fill in for those sleazy doctors,” she says. “I would have warned you to stay away.”

  “Too late for that,” I mutter under my breath.

  “What’s the deal with the clinic anyway?” Blake asks her. “Why on Earth did Ted Swanson and George Rhodes decide to open in Goat?”

  She sighs. “Oh, that’s simple enough. George Rhodes’ grandfather died last year and left him the building. And you know Goat. Everyone here wants to be open-minded and tolerant.”

  I sip the coffee slowly. “The clinic doesn’t seem to have any legitimate patients.”

  “They did at the start,” she replies. “Once word got out about their extracurricular activities though, people stopped going.” Her expression is one of prim distaste. “It just doesn’t seem very sanitary.”

  Blake lifts his chin. “Will they come back?” he asks directly. “If the happy-endings are a thing of the past, will people give the clinic a try?”

  Whoa. I sit up in shock. Blake’s actually thinking of staying.

  Aunt Elvira sips her tea. “A proper clinic run by real doctors will do well in Goat,” she says slowly. She fixes Blake with a piercing glance. “It won’t be glamorous,” she warns him. “There are no Hollywood starlets requiring Botox injections here. Just normal small-town folk and a community that desperately needs doctors.”

  “I don’t need glamor,” Blake replies steadily. “I want to stay, Aunt Elvira. It’s taken me all my twenties and half my thirties to figure it out, but this is what I want to do.”

  Her face softens as she smiles at her great-nephew. “Are you sure, Blake?” she asks. “It’s summer now. It’s nice outside, and the town is crowded with tourists, lively with visitors. Winters here are long and lonely.”

  “I’m positive.” Blake pulls out his wallet and takes out George Rhodes’ business card. “I’m going to call Rhodes and make an offer for the building.”

  My best friend is finally settling down. I should be happy for him. I am happy for him, I tell myself firmly.

  Even though my life suddenly seems very empty in comparison.

  We’re walking back from Elvira’s home when Blake clears his throat. “I want to talk to you about something.”

  His tone alerts me that something’s up. “What is it?”

  He doesn’t look at me. “I’ve been thinking about Lana.”

  A prickle of unease crawls up my spine. “Lana?”

  He nods, still avoiding my gaze. “I’ve never thought about dating someone seriously,” he says. “My life has always been too unstable. I’ve done my fair share of sleeping around, but I’ve never contemplated a relationship.”

  “Until now?”

  “We’ve only been out with Lana three times,” he says. “It’s very early days, but I’m in my thirties, and I know what I want. I’d like to see more of her.”

  I stop in my tracks and stare at him. “Are you asking me to back off?”

  “No,” he replies instantly. “I’d never ask you to do that, and I’d never want a woman to come between us.”

  We pass the local diner. The ‘G’ neon bulb has burned out, and the sign now reads ‘oat Morning.’ Mrs. Beaumont, who owns the restaurant, is standing outside her front door, surveying it with a frown. “I can’t think of why the bulb keeps burning out,” she grumbles to the young waitress next to her. “This is the third time in three weeks that I’ve had to change it.” As we pass her, she waves to us. “Are you going to be at the fair tomorrow?” she calls out.

  I paste a smile on my face. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Blake replies. “Don’t tell Marla, but we have money on your banana bread, Mrs. Beaumont.”

  He’s lying through his teeth, but Mrs. Beaumont smiles widely, pleased as punch. We continue walking back to the Nanny Goat, and once we’re out of earshot, I pick up our conversation. “What are you saying, Blake? I don’t understand.”

  He takes a deep breath. “I like Lana,” he says. “You do too, I can tell. It’s time for you to make a decision about what you want, Declan. On the one hand, you could take that job at the UN. Or,” he pauses, “you could pick the less glamorous path. You could stay in Goat and work at the clinic, and we could try to make a relationship with Lana work.”

  Outrage stiffens my spine. “You think I’m doing the work I do because of the glamor?”

  “Either that or you’re trying to prove that you’re not your brother,” he says flatly. “Be honest with me, Declan. When was the last time you were happy practicing medicine? You even applied for a desk job, for fuck’s sake.”

  There’s more than a kernel of truth in what he’s saying. I shy away from the uncomfortable realization and focus on his other statement. “You’re talking about both of us being in a relationship with Lana. That’s crazy.”

  “Why?”

  I give him an exasperated look. “Because it is,” I reply. “What do you think Elvira’s going to think?”

  “I think that Elvira’s the last person in the world who’d stand in the way of me being happy,” he replies. “And I think if I’m going to be in an unconventional relationship, Goat’s the perfect town for it. ‘Embrace Your Weird,’ remember?”

  We walk on in silence. I’m lost in thought. I know my friend. When he makes up his mind to do something, he never backs away. He wants the clinic, and he wants Lana.

  If I take the job in Geneva, I’ll see Blake and Lana at Christmas and major holidays, but would I be able to spend time with them? I’ll always look at them and see what I could have had. They’d be a couple, and I’d be out in the cold.

  I’m at a turning point. It’s time for me to figure out what I really want out of life. A job at the UN, or a shot at love?

  10

  Lana:

  I’m oddly nervous about meeting Elvira Grantham, and I know why. It’s because I’m getting attached to Blake and Declan. Blake dotes on his great-aunt, and I want to make a good impression.

  I told you so, Sensible-Lana says snidely. You’re not cut out for vacation flings.

  However, I have no reason to worry. Elvira Grantham smiles warmly when she sees me and immediately puts me at ease. “I’ve always wanted to be a writer,” she exclaims as I get into Blake’s jeep. “Blake tells me you write cozy mysteries. I’m addicted to them, dear. Would I have read your book?”

  Not likely, since I’m lying through my teeth about my cover story. “I doubt it,” I say, blushing. “My first book sold just enough for my publisher to offer me an advance on the next one, but I didn’t exactly light the world on fire. If this one doesn’t sell better, I’ll have to find another job.”

  Finding another job has been in my thoughts all week, but I have no idea why I blurted that out to Elvira.

  Blake looks at me through his rear-view mirror. “What kind of job would you look for?” he asks.

  Stop talking, Lana. You’re weaving one hell of a tangled web. “I’m not sure,” I say evasively. “I haven’t given it a lot of thought. Right now, I’m hoping this book sells well enough that I don’t have to worry about it.”

  I remember my half-formed plan about writing a feature story about Ms. Grantham’s life and selling to Hailey’s magazine. How do I bring it up?

  “Have you ever thought about journalism, Lana?” Elvira Grant
ham asks me.

  My heart stops. Have I blown my cover somehow? Keep bluffing, Lana. “Umm, not really,” I stammer. “Why?”

  “Well, Connor Perkins is retiring,” she says. “He runs the area weekly paper. I know he’s been looking for someone to take over for months, but he’s having no luck. Connor writes some articles, but the paper’s a local. It mostly covers area happenings.” Her expression brightens. “In fact, Connor will probably be at the fair. I’ll introduce you to him if you’d like.”

  “I’d love that,” I reply impulsively. Then I kick myself inwardly. What am I thinking? I’m a journalist; I’m here to write a story. I can’t talk to Connor Perkins, and I can’t expose my cover. If the sleazy doctors get wind of my presence, I might as well kiss my exposé goodbye.

  Blake:

  We walk around the fair, but though on the surface, I’m paying attention to the attractions, the rides, the quilts, the mutant vegetables, and the sand sculptures, I can’t seem to take my eyes off Lana.

  “You’re staring at her,” Aunt Elvira says to me as I watch Declan and Lana take turns at throwing darts at balloons in an effort to win a massive stuffed cat.

  “Who?”

  I don’t know why I even bother trying to deflect Aunt Lana. Bloodhounds look like they’re asleep on the job compared to my great-aunt. She just rolls her eyes at me. “Is she Declan’s girlfriend?”

  “No.” I take a deep breath. “It’s complicated.”

  “So you’re both sleeping with her.”

  My head jerks up. “How do you do that?” I ask. “Does reading every Agatha Christie book make you a detective of some kind?”

  She chuckles. “You’re both looking at her the same way. And despite what you think, Blake, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  I give her a sidelong glance. “And?”

  “And what?” she asks blandly. “Lana seems nice. When are you bringing her over for dinner?”

  I put my arm around her shoulder. “You’re pretty awesome, Aunt Elvira,” I tell her.

  She smiles smugly. “I know, dear.”

  After a day at the fair, we head back home. We drop Aunt Elvira off and then head back to the Nanny Goat. “Umm, what are you guys doing this evening?” Lana asks us. “Do you want to come up for a drink?”

  Declan’s lips twist into a grin. “Why Lana, are you inviting the two of us up to your room?” he asks. “Anxious to scratch another item off your list?”

  She flushes. “If you don’t want to…” Her voice trails off.

  “We want to.” I smile at her. “We have a present for you.”

  “A present? What is it?”

  “Come upstairs, and we’ll show you.”

  11

  Lana:

  The present is a butt plug.

  “You shouldn’t have,” I quip when I open the bag Blake hands me. Thank heavens we’re in my room. If I’d opened this downstairs and Marla had caught sight of the tear-dropped shaped glass plug, I think I’d have died of embarrassment.

  I’ve had an amazing day so far. I’m clutching the giant stuffed kitten that Declan won for me at the fair. “You can call it Smokey,” he’d said when he gave it to me.

  It had taken me a few seconds to realize he was talking about the cat that solves crimes in my imaginary books. “I can,” I’d agreed, but my response came an instant too late, and Declan’s face had worn an expression of puzzlement on it.

  At the rate I’m going, my cover story is going to be shattered within a week.

  Right now, Declan doesn’t look suspicious. His eyes glimmer with heat, and I can see the hard outline of his cock against his jeans. “You’re the one who put anal sex on your list,” he points out. “We thought you might want to ease into it.”

  A surge of heat rushes through me. “Thank you,” I murmur, unable to meet their eyes. “I’ll be sure to try it on.”

  “Oh no, Lana,” Blake says, his voice firm. “You’re not getting out of this that easily. It would be irresponsible for us to give you this present and not see if it fits.”

  My head jerks up, and a flush creeps up my cheeks. “What?”

  He chuckles. “You heard us. Bend over the bed, baby.”

  I can’t believe how turned on I am right now. “You’re joking,” I reply, offering a token protest, one they ignore. “Fine,” I huff. I bend down at my waist, resting my elbows on the mattress. “There better be lube in that bag.”

  Smack. A palm descends on my ass in a stinging blow. “Don’t be a brat, honey,” Declan advises. “Not unless you want to get punished.”

  Ooh, punishment. The stinging has faded, leaving warmth behind. If I act bratty, will they pull me over their lap and spank me? Will they finger me at the same time? Color me intrigued.

  “I’ll do whatever I want,” I retort defiantly.

  Blake chuckles. “Somebody wants to get punished,” he mocks.

  Declan kicks my legs open wide, and his palm connects once again with my bottom. Heat blooms from the point of contact and radiates through my body. “Is that the best you can do?” I say through clenched teeth. “That didn’t hurt at all.”

  Blake’s in my line of sight. His lips curl into a smile, and his eyes are amused. He sits down on the bed and brushes a strand of hair away from my face before brushing a soft kiss across my lips. “No more talking, honey,” he says to me. “That’s an order.”

  A fresh surge of arousal dampens my pussy. Spanking and orders. It’s another good day for Lana.

  “Hands behind your back, Lana.” Declan’s voice is firm. I feel him lift my skirt up and tuck it into the waistband. He pulls my panties down to my ankles. “I’m going to tie your wrists together.”

  “With what?” I ask before I realize I wasn’t supposed to talk. Oops.

  Another hard spank greets my question. Ouch. This one stings a lot more, now that I don’t have my skirt and panties to serve as protection. “With this,” he replies.

  There’s a lurid pink bow around the neck of my stuffed toy. Declan pulls it free and wraps the ribbon around my wrists. “Very nice,” he says, his voice raspy with lust. “What a pretty little gift you are, Lana.”

  I’m soaking wet. Blake sits cross-legged on the mattress in front of me and lifts my shoulders into his lap. He’s naked, and he’s hard, and my mouth is inches from his erection. My lips curl into a smile, and I drag my tongue over the tip.

  “Fuck, yes,” Blake hisses, his head falling back. “That’s it, honey. Wrap your pretty little lips around me.”

  Balanced as I am, my hands tied behind my back, I can’t really bob my head up and down Blake’s cock. I do the best I can, taking as much of his length as I can into my mouth, trying to breathe through my nose. Blood pounds in my head, and fogs of lust cloud my mind. I feel perilously out of control, dangerously turned on.

  I love it.

  There’s a trickle of lube at my ass, and then Declan’s fingers stroke my back reassuringly. He inserts a finger into my tight asshole, pushing lube into the puckered opening, and I do my best to relax. “Good girl,” he says approvingly. “Tell me if you want me to slow down.”

  “Okay,” I murmur around a mouthful of cock.

  His finger pushes deeper. It feels different. “I’m going to add another finger.” I brace myself for pain, but there isn’t any. Declan’s using plenty of lube, and he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry.

  “I think you like this, Lana,” he observes. “You’re soaking wet. Are you turned on because you’re tied up, or do you like the spanking?”

  All of it.

  The tip of the butt plug nudges my asshole, and Declan pushes it in steadily. There’s a brief moment of pain as my ass stretches against the widest part of the plug. I wriggle a little, taking a deep breath as I force myself to relax. Then it’s done. The plug is seated in place, the base nestled between my cheeks.

  I feel full. And very aroused.

  The tip of Declan’s finger ghosts over my clitoris, and I shiver, flickers of pl
easure cascading through me. “I want to fuck you, Lana,” he says. I hear a condom wrapper rip, and then Declan thrusts into me in one hard, powerful stroke, pushing me deeper onto Blake’s cock.

  Oh God. I cannot describe how turned on I am at this moment. I’m so full. The plug in my ass, Declan’s thick cock in my pussy, Blake’s hard erection in my mouth. I’m being overwhelmed by desire. I can feel the plug shift with every one of Declan’s strokes. My jaw aches as I suck Blake’s cock, but it’s worth it. So worth it.

  Blake grips my hair. “I’m going to come, Lana,” he grinds out, his words adding fuel to the fire that blazes within me. I swallow around his cock, and he groans. His face is contorted with lust, and deep pleasure fills me. I did this. I made him feel this way.

  Declan spanks my ass. “Your pussy is so fucking tight.” He’s moving faster now, his strokes deeper. My muscles clench around his cock, gripping and milking him as he thrusts into me. I’m close, so close. Waves of pleasure wash over me.

  Then Blake chokes off a shout as he comes in my mouth. Mere instants later, Declan’s fingers dig into my hips as he too erupts. Then Declan pinches my swollen clitoris, and that’s all it takes for me to explode. The built-up tension snaps like a rubber band stretched too tight, and I come undone in a rush of sensation as my orgasm rips through me.

  Through a haze of contentment, I feel Declan undo the ribbon binding my wrists and massage my skin. I collapse on the bed with Blake and Declan on either side of me.

  Vacation hook-up, remember? Sensible-Lana taps her foot impatiently. You’re not actually going to spend the entire night with them, are you?

  “I guess I should get up,” I mutter, my voice awkward.

  “Are you kicking us out, Lana?” Blake asks directly. “Would you prefer we left?”

  I flush. “No,” I reply honestly. “I just don’t know what the rules are in a situation like this.”

  Declan’s eyes soften. “There are no rules,” he says. “We do what feels right. I’d like to spend the night.”