Curing Doctor Vincent (The Good Doctor Trilogy Book 1) (7 page)

Marco set his fork on the plate. “Miriam was a prominent
actress and sex symbol here in France. All Parisians know her face and her…”

“Marco! Yes, well it’s hard to be a sex symbol with a
colostomy bag dangling from your hip, but I still do appearances and
fundraisers. I try to keep active.”

“That’s wonderful.” I couldn’t help but smile while her
shaking fingers grasped mine.

“Now darling, the part that Xavier forgot to mention. After
years of me harassing him to move on, and Lydia would have wanted it that way,
he finally confessed to what he had planned for you. I know about
his…ahhh…limitations and Lydia’s love of men.”

I cleared my throat. It was all so unbelievable.

She continued, “The one thing I love more than my next
breath is my husband. He works day and night saving lives. He cares for me and
I couldn’t ask for anyone better. But in my condition, I can’t give him what he
deserves. As you can tell, I barely have the strength to squeeze your hand, and
my legs no longer hold me. I’ve lost sensation over most of my body and the
tubes make it impossible to feel sexy. He tries to help me but…I’m not stupid,
Elaine. He’s a beautiful man in the prime of his life and I’m fighting to hold
on, but I don’t know how much will be left of me in the end. There isn’t much left
now. He has never been selfish with me; I wanted to return the favor.”

Xavier moved beside me. “I told her all about you.”

She released my hand. “He did and it’s perfect. I never
wanted Sebastian to find comfort with a prostitute for obvious reasons, and I
couldn’t stand it if he fell in love. But a week of carnal indulgence is what
he needs. Every man does. Elaine, I’m asking you to sleep with my husband. Allow
him to indulge in the pleasures Xavier and Marco have planned for you. He’s exceptionally
talented. He told me you got a taste last night.”

I wasn’t sure if I could close my mouth. Marco was right;
nothing ever went as planned here. I turned to my side to gauge his reaction
and he winked and mouthed, “Told you.”

“Miriam, while I…”

“Just say you’ll do it. Unlike Xavier, I can’t stay and
watch. I need to have my memories of us. Please, make sure he enjoys himself. You
won’t be disappointed.”

I hung my head in disbelief. Speechless. I really had to
wonder if I wasn’t in a coma somewhere, and this wasn’t some weird
manifestation of all of the naughty novels I had read.

She patted my leg. “Perfect. Xavier, can you help me to
the door? My driver can take it from there.”

“You’re welcome to stay for breakfast.” He moved one of
the chairs in her path so she could turn the chair around.

“No, thank you. I have a few errands to run. Sebastian
said he’d meet you at the gallery. What a magnificent place to start.”

As he followed her out of the room, he responded, “I
thought so. Should help set the mood.”

I turned to Marco. “The gallery?”

“Yes, Lydia owned a gallery of erotic art and artifacts. Xavier
thinks there are several pieces you’ll appreciate.” He picked up a slice of
bacon from my plate and handed it to me. “Eat.”

I bit off a piece and chewed. “You know this is all fucked
up.”

He laughed. “Yes, it is. Aren’t we lucky?”

“I was thinking more like crazy.”

Chapter
Six

Collector

After breakfast, I gathered my things for the day’s
festivities and headed to the car. The driver opened the door and helped me
into the limo. Moments later, the doctor and Marco slid in on either side of
me. Dr. Vincent pressed a button and a shaded panel slid into place obscuring
us from the driver.

The engine hummed and the door closed, but it was the doctor’s
breath on my neck that held my attention.

“You smell so delightful. Like honey and sunlight.”

I took a deep breath and reminded myself: this was all
about sex. Nothing more. “Thank you.”

He shifted in his seat and faced me. “You should be
thankful for my hang up.”

I turned toward him, wrinkled my brow and stared into his
sapphire blue eyes. “Why is that? It doesn’t seem to make you happy.”

He leaned in closer, almost as though he would kiss me. “Why
would you care about my happiness?”

Two could play his game. The attraction between us was
dangerous and his close proximity only fueled the foreplay. I turned toward
him, spreading my legs slightly and moved in closer, never releasing his gaze.

“But what if I want to see you happy?”

He laughed. “That’s nonsense.”

Marco remained quiet while I rebuked the doctor. “I’m
insulted.”

“Whatever for? We hardly know each other. Lust is one
thing. It’s superficial, honest and brief. Happiness, joy, love—those, my
dear, are bonds that can’t be broken and last an eternity.”

“Who said anything about love? I just want to see you
happy.” I glanced out the window.

He placed a finger under my chin and forced me to look at
him again. “So naive. So foolish. That’s the very definition of love. It’s not
hearts and flowers. It’s caring about someone else’s experience more than you
care about your own.” A wicked smile spread across his face. “Elaine, are you
making a declaration?”

Normally, I would have challenged him, but embarrassment
flooded my cheeks. I might have been younger than him, but I was far from a
child. His condescending tone and too-close-for-comfort comment was
overshadowed by his hand clutching the back of the seat in a vice-like grip
with our mouths only inches apart. In that moment, when I stared into his soul,
I made my vow. I would break his resolve and teach him that his games had
consequences. He was not the only one capable of seduction. I neither confirmed
nor denied his ridiculous claim.

“Oh dear Elaine, you do intrigue me, but you know what
would delight me right now?”

“No, Doctor, what do you want?” Would he do it? Could this
be it? Surely, it could not be that easy.

“You can tell me how much you want me,” he whispered.

Stan was right: there wasn’t anything small about Dr. Vincent,
including his ego.

I laughed, while maintaining our standoff, and enunciated
the word, “Never.”

A grin, laced with mischief, pulled at the corners of the
doctor’s mouth. “Fine. Have it your way. Marco, lift her dress and tell me how
much she wants me.”

Marco complied, exposing me to his gaze. He placed a palm
on my heat. “She’s dripping, X. I think she likes you.”

I did want him, but he was out of control. I let out a
breathy sigh, which I prayed caressed his just out of reach lips, as Marco ran
his fingers through my wetness.

“What if I don’t want you?”

Marco slid a finger between my folds and slipped inside
me.

I gasped.

The doctor’s gaze was intense. His dilated pupils, flushed
cheeks and halting breaths betrayed him. “But you do. Remember, you can’t lie
to me. It might be Marco inside you, but never forget to whom you are making
love. Marco, show her.” He reached down and stroked his cock through the fabric
of his black dress pants.

Marco inserted another finger and set a rhythm that was
certain to undo me.

I gasped. Marco reached up and fisted his other hand in my
hair, yanking my head back, exposing my throat. The jostling of the car drove
him deeper inside as I felt the doctor’s hot breath caress my ear. “He’s
fucking you with my permission. This week you are mine. No matter how good he
feels, it’s my face you’ll remember.”

I bit my lip. Marco drove me hard. Slamming his hand
against my clit with each stroke. With each slap a grunt escaped. “What do you
want from me?”

“Your passion.” He licked his lips. “And anything else you
are willing to give me.”

Marco removed his fingers and replaced them with his
mouth. His tongue slid between my folds on its journey to my clit.

I bit my lip and “Fuck,” escaped on a breath. It felt so
good.

The doctor moaned, while gripping himself through his
pants. “God, that is so fucking sexy.” He adjusted himself. “Come for me.”

Marco’s fingers rejoined the action. Son of a bitch, he
was good.

One more thrust and the doctor’s wish was fulfilled. My
back arched further and I gripped the seat. Marco tightened his grip on my hair
and a squeal tore through me, while my body clenched down on Marco’s hand.

Marco mumbled, “So fucking tight,” as he forced entry
through my ecstasy, urging me deeper into bliss, only to stall with soft
caresses from the inside out.

“I…ah… I’m…I…I’m”
The flood of pleasure over came me and
I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of Marco’s work.

The doctor finished for me, “Beautiful. That’s what you
are.”

Through my deep breaths and lust-filled head the words
escaped, “
If
beauty doesn’t make me worthy of
your
touch, Doctor, what will?”

He didn’t pause. “It’s not about worth. You are priceless.
Like a piece of art or gem behind museum glass. Admired by all. Exquisite.
Treasured. Collected.”

Such pretty, dangerous words.

Marco removed his hand and lowered my dress.

I took the seat beside him. Patting Marco’s leg in
appreciation, I uttered one word. I couldn’t let him do this to me. Allowing Dr.
Vincent to become anything other than an interesting fuck would destroy me. I
had to put a stop to it. “Borrowed.”

“Come again?” The doctor shifted toward me.

Marco snickered. “Give her a minute. One at a time, X.”

The doctor leaned back slightly and shot Marco the most
disapproving look. “What did you say, Elaine?”

“I said, borrowed. You said collected. Treasured. I
corrected you. A true collector does not discard a precious gem, never to think
of it again. A collector preens over his works. Sets it upon a pedestal. Revels
in the well-fought hunt. It’s the possession that fuels his dedication. You,
dear Doctor, are not a collector, you are a library cardholder and I am the
story of the week.”

Marco laughed and squeezed my thigh. “I like you more
every minute.”

Xavier Vincent stared out the window. Silence was his only
response.

Chapter
Seven

Rainmaker

The car pulled up to the curb of a quaint French boutique.
The cold shoulder I’d received for the remainder of the ride, made me ponder
the possible changes in the doctor’s plans. Was he so aggravated with me he’d
send me on my way? The car door opened and his outstretched hand surprised me. I
didn’t know which lines could be blurred. Sometimes touching seemed allowed,
but only when it was a formality. Perhaps he wasn’t angry with me after all. The
cobblestone street led to slate tiled sidewalks and to the window of
Désir
Secrets
.

Beyond my reflection, photos of men and women in various
seductive poses were accessorized with fresh flower accents to help soften the
hard lines of each sculpted body. The floral arrangements and feminine
architecture added old-world ambiance even while the art appeared minimal and
modern.

Xavier steadied me by my elbow as I rose from the car. “This
was Lydia’s hobby,” he said while pulling me to my feet.

I smoothed my dress but said nothing.

The doctor whispered something to the driver and Marco
placed a hand on the small of my back.

The tinkling bells, hanging from the interior door handle,
painted a mental picture very different from what greeted me. The room was
expansive, stark white, and held no hint of the character the exterior ironwork
and stucco hinted at.

It was a gallery—stripped down so the art became the
focus.

From a side room emerged a beautiful, leggy woman. “Xavier,”
the woman said, breathy and seductive. He released my hand and approached her.

“Patrice! It has been too long.” He took the woman’s hand
and kissed the back of it. Her large breasts overflowed the cups of her curve-hugging
dress. She had a body any woman would die for.

“I thought we were beyond formalities.” She kissed him on
one cheek, and then the other and he returned the favor.

Xavier slid his arm around the woman’s waist and something
in me snarled. My body tensed. He wasn’t mine. Damn him for all the extra words
of adoration. Only sex. It’s supposed to be only sex.

Marco noticed. “You don’t like seeing him with her. Do
you?”

“Why would I care?”

“Don’t let my tight ass and good hair fool you; I’m not an
idiot.”

I glared at him for a moment, but couldn’t keep my eyes
off the doctor and the bombshell. “You’re wrong.”

“Elaine, I see it in your eyes every time you look at him.
I don’t know if you’ve fallen in love with him or the idea of him, but either
way…”

“It’s nonsense.” I took a step away from Marco. And
without thinking the words left my mouth, “Why is it so easy for him to touch
her?”

“He’s not having sex with her.”

“Yet.” I huffed.

“She means nothing to him. That’s why it’s easy.”

I heard his words, but the way the doctor’s hands slid up
and down the woman’s arms made me wonder. Watching his long fingers rest on her
hip filled me with rage.

“I don’t get it. He’d never touch me like that.”

Marco stepped closer and wrapped his arm around me,
pulling me closer. He breathed into my ear, “Exactly.”

I ignored him.

The bells on the door
chimed. Sebastian stepped through the door dressed in jeans and a leather
jacket. He walked up beside me and whispered to both of us, “Sorry, I’m late.”

Marco leaned in front
of me making eye contact with Sebastian. “Hey, no problem. You’re just to in
time to witness the cat fight.”

Sebastian laughed.

Marco put his arm
around me. “Elaine here is going to kick Patrice’s ass.”

I removed his arm and
stared at him. “What? I am not.” I said it just a little too loud, because the doctor
and Patrice glanced in our direction.

Sebastian chuckled.

The woman laughed, placed a soft kiss on his lips, grabbed
her handbag and headed to the door. The kiss boiled my blood. Xavier followed
her to the door and locked it behind her.

“Now where were we?” He stopped and stared at me. “Beautiful,
what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Marco laughed. “I don’t think she likes Patrice.”

The doctor turned to Sebastian. “Glad you could make it.”

Sebastian responded, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Xavier cleared his throat and took my arm, guiding me to a
painting of a man and a woman in bed. The woman’s legs were spread wide and the
man rose above her. His cock was positioned to penetrate her.

“These works are some of the most precious pieces of erotic
art you will ever see. Unlike me…my lovely Lydia was a splendid collector.”

I glared at him. Obviously, he wasn’t over the comment I’d
made in the limo.

Still leading the way, he stopped in front of a painting of
a woman being ravished by a horde of men. “Lydia studied several tribes in the
Himalayas. There is limited inhabitable land, so this is how they control the
population.”

I snorted. “I’m sorry, but I would think an orgy would
have the opposite effect.”

He laughed. “You’re right, if there was more than one
woman involved. In their culture one woman takes many husbands. Often times a
bride is selected for a family of brothers.”

“That looks complicated. Couldn’t she do them one at a
time?”

“I’m sure she did, but this is her wedding night. Their
job is to give her pleasure as one marital unit.”

The dark skinned woman with the look of ecstasy in her
eyes had a cock in every hole and a line of men prepped and ready. I stared in
fascination, admiring the careful logistics needed to perform such an act.

Marco moved in behind me. “Have you ever had two men at
once?”

“No.” I crossed my arms.

He placed his hands on my hips. “Do you ever think about
it?”

I shifted my weight to the other foot. “Not other than a
passing fantasy from high school. I’ve never actually considered making it a
reality.”

“Think about it, Elaine. Think about men wanting you so
badly, they can’t wait.” He reached under my skirt. “Think about having a cock
in here.” He slid his finger into me. “And one in here.” He slid his finger
between my cheeks and touched my rear entrance. I jerked.

Marco grabbed my hip. “Wait…has no one ever taken your
ass?”

I didn’t want to answer.

Xavier’s intense stare was penetrating. “Elaine…”
He took my hand in
his.

“No. Never really considered it an option.”

Xavier stroked my palm with his thumb. “We have so much to
teach you.”

In the center of the
room stood an alabaster sculpture of a goddess—her nude body, draped in
only beads while being caressed by two equally nude men. The men kneeled on
either side of her, each with one of their hands between her legs. The woman’s
hands stretched to the heavens and in one she held a small box. Her unsurpassed
beauty tarnished by the look of agony on her face.

The doctor moved to the
front of the piece. “This is Pandora—a prominent figure in erotic art and
literature. Throughout history there are many renditions of her story, but this
particular artist had an interesting interpretation.” He took a step to his
left, admiring the work. “He did not believe that she released all evil in the
world
,
but rather made a sacrifice. At the
bottom of the box, beyond all of the agony she brought upon herself was a gift—a
symbol that all hope is meaningless if one hasn’t suffered. She raises the cleansed
box to the heavens as her gift to the world while man grasps at hope.”

The doctor proved to
be quite the art aficionado. But the pressing question slid from the tip of my
tongue, “The box you sent me, what did it mean?”

He turned to face me.
“It always occurred to me that if she achieved her goal and released hope to
the world, that real gift was that the box would be empty, and one by one we
could fill it with the turmoil it once contained.” He walked to me and took my
hand. “I stood right here, the night the break-through came to me. You might
give me credit for creating the drug, but I give credit to Pandora.” He looked
away as he spoke, but still held my hand. “When I saw your troubles that night
at dinner, I wanted to take them away. All I kept thinking about was how much I
hoped you’d agree to come to Paris. It was then I knew the box was empty and your
suffering made you capable of seeing our rendezvous as an opportunity. I called
in a few favors and had the box commissioned for you.”

I squeezed his hand
to get his attention. “That was very kind of you, Doctor, but we can’t forget
the dangers of hope. Hope unfulfilled is nothing more than sorrow.” With Dr.
Vincent I risked what I wasn’t even willing to admit to myself—namely
thinking that this week was anything more than sex. After a story like that,
hope would surely destroy me.

His eyes grew wide. “You’re
probably right.” He released my hand.

Marco placed his hand
on my shoulder. I turned to him and he smiled, confirming he too understood the
implications.

Sebastian followed at
my side.

Next was the statue of a man bound and kneeling while
staring at the ceiling. His huge, erect cock pointed heavenward. A stunning
vision, but it was a large, gold-framed oil painting with vibrant red hues that
caught my attention. I stared at an angel in a cage. Even though the door stood
open, allowing his escape, his wings were clipped. His perfect nude body appeared
weary from the tortures of a woman holding a whip.

The doctor whispered, “That is one of my favorites.”

“It’s powerful.”

“It was a gift for my birthday from Lydia. She had it
commissioned by one of the greatest erotic painters of our time.”

“Sure beats a gift card.”

He laughed. “Come on.”

Genitals and entwined limbs were everywhere you looked. Marco
slid his hand across my ass, gathered the fabric of my skirt in his fingers. The
cold air brushed the skin of my cheek. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “As
if I wasn’t pent up before, all this sex.”

Xavier paused. “Sex has always been viewed as mysterious,
powerful. Aside from the magic of conception, many cultures use it to bend the
will of fate and gods alike.”

The expansive room we entered next hung thick with shadows.
Twinkling lights made to resemble a night sky sparkled and a large, artificial
moon cast light on the two objects situated in the center of the room.

“Lydia’s favorite story is that of the Rainmaker. It has
become one of mine too.”

“What is this room?”

“Ahhhh… One you are going to get to know very well, and I’m
certain you will never forget.” He walked to the center of the room toward a
strange, wooden apparatus and a large throne. There were tables on either side
of the wooden structure. Deep, midnight blue velvet curtains lined the walls.

“Through her research, Lydia uncovered a ritual used by a
band of ancient Celts. Centuries ago, the king of the clan chose his queen and
with only him did she lay until the dry season. It was believed the gods
withheld the rain to demand offerings.”

He took hold of my hand and led me to the wooden object
shaped like a raised sawhorse but with smooth, rounded angles and odd
indentations.

“On the first full moon, after the start of the dry spell,
the king presented his queen as a tribute to the gods.”

He must have noticed my wide eyes, because he chuckled.

“No love, not as a sacrifice. The king loved his queen.
Women held much power. Though not a true matriarchal society, women were
revered as givers of life—an extension of the Earth’s powers. They
believed a woman’s body held the secrets to cure all.” He smoothed his hand
over the wooden beam.

“At twilight, the villagers gathered round and the king
unveiled his queen, dressed in her royal robes.”

The doctor’s narrative skills, though outstanding, competed
with another scene in the room.

Marco and Sebastian stepped out of their shoes and placed
them under the table. They unbuttoned their pants, slid their zippers down and
pushed them over their firm, sculpted asses, like synchronized swimmers. They undressed,
folded their clothes and placed them on the table beside a black leather box. They
were a magnificent sight to feast on.

Xavier continued to run his hands along the smooth wood. “The
king said a prayer for rain and for his wife. And when the moon reached the
proper position in the sky, he bound her to the Rainmaker.”

Marco handed Dr. Vincent several black silk strands of
fabric.

The doctor slid them through his fingers as he spoke. “Elaine,
will you trust me?”

I crossed my arms. “I don’t like pain.”

He laughed. “Oh love, you need not worry about that. Please,
trust me.”