#Babymaker (Baby Crazy 2)

My soul shriveled. How could Ash embarrass me like this? It was already bad enough with the loud chomping on her carrot and the not-so-subtle hints for food. But at least that had been in front of other women. Now that Dr. Roman was here in all his magnificent glory, my cheeks flamed red as that blue gaze swung to take us in.

He nodded, eyes surveying us coolly. Oh god, I was breaking out into a sweat, my skin heating under that gaze. And yet the good doctor looked completely unruffled with a relaxed stance, his feet set shoulder-length apart.

“Welcome,” he said, nodding. Those eyes swept over me again and I wondered if he could see my hardened nipples beneath the wool sweater. I’d pulled on my most expensive cashmere, but the problem was that the fabric was thin. So my tips jutted out embarrassingly from the huge shelf of my breasts like little rocks dying to be tasted.

But the doctor gave no indication that he noticed. Instead, he nodded again.

“As soon as I’m done with my presentation, I’ll be meeting with each of you individually to hear about your concerns, and what Sunset Medical can do for you. If you’ll just wait fifteen minutes, I’ll be able to talk with you one-on-one.”

Ashley smiled winningly, showing a bit of carrot stuck in her front teeth.

“Sure Doc,” she said. “Looking forward. I’ve already got my pencil in hand, ready to take notes.”

And with that, Dr. Roman turned to an easel behind him and began to speak.

“Again, welcome to Sunset Medical,” that low voice rumbled. “We’re here to discuss reproductive issues specific to women of childbearing age. Now if you’re on the edges of what’s traditionally considered “childbearing age,” I’m excited to say that there are new technologies that could potentially transform your experience. I’m here today to talk with you about your hopes and expectations, as well as introduce the array of services that we offer here.”

I should have listened. I should have been taking notes and carefully jotting down every sentence the doctor said. But instead, his words flowed through my soul like music as I stared at that handsome face. Because Dr. Roman was extraordinarily charismatic, intelligent, and dare I say it? He was melt-your-panties hot. The brains behind that amazing physique had me in awe, and I dissolved into a puddle right there in the waiting room. What would it feel like to have this particular babymaker work his magic on me? All I knew was … I couldn’t wait to find out.

CHAPTER TWO

Chase

She was absolutely gorgeous. Oh sure, the blonde friend was annoying what with talking with her mouth full and the irritating comments. But her friend was something else altogether.

Brown curls haloed a face so sweet and pure that I could feel my cock stiffening after a glimpse at those innocent lips. Her eyes were wide caramel pools, the expression soft and giving. And shit, but that body. I’m a fertility doctor, so I know exactly what’s childbearing and what’s not. And frankly, this girl had the body of a goddess.

Because she was no tiny stick figure. Instead, her hips were wide as a house, perfect for carrying a child. Those breasts were huge, at least Double Ds in my estimation, and perfect for producing milk. But the woman was perfectly proportioned as well. She had a narrow waist and a butt so round and enormous that my mouth watered from the visual alone.

But the brunette was shy, and completely unlike her mouthy friend. She barely ate her food as I introduced my medical practice, instead listening closely as I spoke. The pen in her hand didn’t move much, but that didn’t worry me. After all, I can spot a fertile female from miles away, and this girl wasn’t going to need much to get pregnant.

Because I’ve had to talk quite a few women off the ledge when it came to their chances of conceiving. In fact, looking around the waiting room now, I could tell there were some females who were going to leave disappointed. As a responsible professional, I simply can’t take on patients who don’t have realistic expectations, and frankly, if you’re in your sixties, the odds aren’t good.

So discreetly, I eyed my audience. Yep, there were some women who were way over the hill. They were well-preserved in some cases with botoxed faces and perfectly-dyed hair, but that couldn’t hide the aura of age. There was something seasoned about them that no plastic surgery can completely reverse. Maybe it was the sagginess of their breasts, or the crepey skin of their necks. As a doctor, I’ve learned to spot these signs from miles away.

But none of that was true when it came to the curvy brunette. Her skin was as fresh as the dew on a rose petal, her lips a natural pout. Plus, gravity definitely hadn’t hit her yet. I’d put her in her early twenties, mid-twenties at the latest.