Free Rick Sexed Up the Doc by Leona Bushman

Chapter One
    Nelda stretched lazily upon her silken sheets, giving the latest man in her bed an affectionate glance. He could screw like a racehorse and it had been exactly what she’d needed last night. She had called him up after a rough pregnancy had ended with an emergency C-section landing both mother and baby in the ICU.
    She had craved rough and no-holds-barred sex and he’d given it to her. Now he needed to go. It was time to put her emotions of the night behind her and see to her other patients. But first, she needed to get lover boy gone.
    He always came over if she called, unless he had a prior commitment. Often, she wished she could fall in love with him, but they didn’t have enough in common to sustain a long-term relationship. No, it’s better this way.
    She stood up, pulled on her cream satin robe, and tied the ties. Putting her hair in a ponytail as she walked to the master bathroom, she called out, “Larry, you need to go now. I need to get ready for work.”
    She turned on the hot water to heat up the shower before heading to the bed. “Larry!” she said, nudging him. “Time to go.”
    Larry woke up, blinking his eyes sleepily, and grinned at her. She smiled. If only.
    “Hi, babe,” he said, and tried to draw her into an embrace.
    She shoved him off with both hands, but laughed to show she wasn’t angry. “You need to go now, Larry. I have patients this morning.”
    Larry groaned and sat up, letting the peach silk sheets fall off his beautiful black torso. He was darker than her, and she liked licking those nipples. His musky scent charmed her, pulling her in. With a regretful sigh, she turned away. Tempting as he was, she had already switched gears. Expecting him to be gone when she finished her shower, she started her morning rituals.
    An hour and a half later, showered, dressed, and munching on toast, she headed out the door. Her two-bedroom duplex was in a nice part of town, not far from the birthing center, Memorial Hospital, or her personal office. She loved her little slice of the world.
    Spring brought out all the blooming bulbs with shoots of other perennials starting to bloom. It gave her pleasure, this normalcy. This beauty grounded her and provided her a safe haven when she lost a patient or witnessed so much pain she could not understand how the person experiencing it coped.
    She decided to walk the half mile to her office. Her office assistant would give her a ride home if it turned windy and cold, or if it rained. She had not grown up in Central Washington and her body still had trouble adjusting to the extremes. In Puget Sound, the northwest area of the state that had large inlets of water coming in from the Strait of Juan de Fuca and the Strait of Georgia, there were nine months of rain, not so much for two months, and one month of not likely to rain.
    Yakima was a whole different ballgame to her and she reveled in the sunshine. Even in the winter, the eastside of the Cascade Mountains seemed to have more sunlight. So happy to be out in the warm sunshine, she didn’t pay attention when the crosswalk sign changed to “Don’t Walk” before she stepped off the curb.
    A screech of tires and the smell of burnt rubber warned her of the impending impact, shaking her out of her revelry. She jumped back, abashed and a little frightened. The car came so close to hitting her she felt the rush of wind as the car’s rearview mirror passed her. A man came up beside her and grabbed her elbow to pull her back a step on the sidewalk. As soon as she steadied herself on her feet, he let go.
    “Are you all right?” he asked in husky tones.
    “I’m fine,” she started brusquely, then looked at the chiseled chin at her eye level.
    “I can see that,” the man said, giving her an examination of his own.
    The timbre of his voice sent sparkling awareness down her spine. His dimpled chin fascinated her. The lips looked soft and inviting. She looked up into his blue eyes and whatever blow off