Love Doctor is a stand-alone sequel to Beware of the Cowboy.
Just call Becky Cooper the Love Doctor. Everyone else does. What else would you call a woman who dates men, fixes their relationship issues then sends them off to find love and marriage? Her stellar record is nine for ten. Well, technically ten for ten...the tenth is in a relationship not yet recognized by the state of Texas. As far as Becky's concerned, she's providing a much-needed, super-fun service.
She's up for more fun and games during a business trip to New York, where she lets a sexy stranger control the remote to her vibrator. What follows is a night of heat to rival the Texas sun. Then she learns Craig, her nightlong stud, is actually E.C. Hill--attorney for the festival her company is hosting. Craig's reputation as a workaholic precedes him. He's precisely the sort of man in need of her services. It's Love Doctor to the rescue!
Craig, however, is less in need of therapy than Becky suspects...and has his own brand of medicine for the Love Doctor.
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
November 13, 2009
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Love Doctor by Mari Freeman
"You owe me an appletini, Becky." Tanisha snapped her cell phone closed. "I just got confirmation of the last payment from Mrs. Anderson. I told you I would collect from them. Now you pay up." She tipped her head to indicate the direction of the bar.
Becky huffed. "Do you see how crowded it is over there?" Everyone in the place was under twenty-five, she noted. The sight of all the super-skinny girls in ultra-short skirts was beginning to make her feel old. One more reason to dislike this place.
If the club hadn't been located inside their hotel, Becky wouldn't be here. She needed to keep it short tonight. A drink or two, a couple of dances and she needed to hit the hay. They had a big meeting in the morning.
"I'm getting thirsty and I'm starting to feel the need to shake my groove thing." Tanisha shooed Becky with her hands. "Go on. I want the good stuff too. None of that cheap vodka."
Becky shook her head. "Okay. Okay." Tanisha had collected an unpaid invoice, adding about six grand to the bottom line for the month. Becky definitely wouldn't skimp on her. And since Becky was now a full partner in Main Event Party Planning, she had a vested interest in the company's bottom line. Her partner, Liza, would be pleased.
As she headed in the direction of the nearest bartender, she realized the crowd had eased. A popular song must have coaxed many of the kids on to the dance floor. The drink retrieval wouldn't be such a difficult task after all.
She'd thought Dallas, her home base, was an expensive city, but the prices in this New York club made Becky swear. Out loud. She reached into her pocket to fish out enough cash to pay for the twenty-one-dollar martini, pulling out her bills, her driver's license--and a little remote fob. It was black with a bright pink heart on it.
Becky surreptitiously pushed the first button and the vibrator in her pussy started up on a smooth, low setting. A push of the second button and it added a very slow, pulsing sensation against her G-spot. That's the ticket. With her little friend, the bullet vibe, she could now handle the teenybopper bar and its distorted sound system.
Tanisha loved the retro-disco scene, but Becky looked around without much enthusiasm. To her, the atmosphere felt thick with desperation. It passed for a night of dancing with her friends, but the men crowded into the room all looked overeager, grungy and unappealing. Evidently, an eagle printed on a distressed T-shirt was cool. She guessed there weren't this many eagles left in the Pacific Northwest.
She spotted maybe two men in the room over twenty-five. And they were the lingerers you find in every dance club. Those slimy guys who were stuck desperately trying to live out their glory days. They wanted nothing more than to hang out in the hip clubs and chase twenty-something girls. Not the kind of man Becky was interested in. None of these guys even qualified for her fixer-upper program.
She was the Love Doctor at home. She dated guys long enough to find out what their relationship issues were then tried to help them break their bad habits. Once a guy remembered to pick up his dirty underwear from the bathroom floor and understood women need more from weekends than watching hockey games and sports news, she broke it off. Things were tidy that way. It had become her method of operation. Besides, Becky was only in her early thirties. She felt no need to rush into marriage.
The bartender reached over the line of multicolored drinks in front of her to hand back her change. Drink and remote in one hand, Becky attempted an ill-advised one-handed sort through the bills and coins in the other, trying to leave a tip. In the process, she dropped the remote control to her vibrator.
"Shit." Becky scattered her change in an attempt at a quick retrieval, but only managed to slide the fob off the wet, slippery bar. It hit the floor and both the pulse and the vibrations stopped. Shit!
Becky recovered her money, shoving it in her pocket. She reached for the fob--but it was no longer on the floor.
It was in a hand. A male hand.
Still crouching, she glanced up to see the owner of the hand and found herself nose-to-nose with a good-looking man crouching beside her, his eyes as green as hers. Becky smiled politely. He glanced down at the remote in his hand and back at her without straightening up. She could easily read the recognition on his face. He knew what he was holding. It wasn't as if her car remote would have a sparkly pink heart on it.
They straightened together and she found herself still looking him right in the eye.
"I would think you'd want to keep a good hold on something like this," he said, still not breaking eye contact. He was smiling. It was a genuine smile that reached his eyes, the kind of smile that reassured frightened puppies and old people. His hair wasn't standing up and spiky like that of most of the kids in the bar and his sideburns showed a hint of gray. In the sun, she was sure it would be almost salt-and-pepper.
Becky chanced a look down at his hand. It was gently holding the remote, his thumb brushing back and forth over the controls without applying enough pressure to change the settings. She felt herself tingling, wondering if he would push a button or not. Her heart was thumping as hard as the music. She wanted him to do it.
She squeezed her muscles in anticipation. There were several settings on the bullet vibe inside her. She wanted to be surprised when he pushed her buttons. The suspense of the moment made for a very sexy cocktail.
The man's expression changed. One eyebrow rose and a crooked little grin crossed his lips. Was he trying to determine what she wanted? She thought so. The stranger glanced down to his hand again. He tapped the bottom button with his thumb, but not hard enough to actually restart the vibrations. Slowly, his gaze shifted back to hers. Becky gave him a tiny shrug.
His eyes widened momentarily and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wanted to play. But did he have the nerve? Did she, really? She watched several expressions move over his handsome face as he seemed to be trying to decipher the situation. She wondered just how much was showing on her own face.
At some point she would enjoy spending time analyzing this moment, but not now. This guy was a complete stranger. She should in no way be tempted to let him control her vibrator. It would be outrageous, slutty.
And it would be oh so much fun.
She was out of town. No one here knew her from Eve. It would be a little game for an hour or so. No harm. Right?
She knew her answer. What would his be? She licked her lips before speaking.
"You have a license to use one of those things?" she asked without a hint of shame in her voice. She was doing her best to keep her cool. Her mind made up, her body was screaming for him to push the button. Any button. Now.
His eyes widened slightly once again and then he tilted his head to the side. "I let it expire last year. It's been awhile since I've had my finger on a trigger like this. Is it locked and loaded?"
"I like to keep one in the chamber. Always prepared, I say."