Just What the Doctor Ordered

Just What the Doctor Ordered

J.M. Snyder

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Curt is a college professor who gets a grant to fund a summer off from classes to work on the next "Great American Novel." He lives with his lover of several years, a pediatrician of Chinese descent named Lee. While they're celebrating Curt's grant, Lee's mother calls to tell him she wants to visit. Curt wants to meet her, but Lee isn't sure that's such a good idea. His mother is of a different generation, a different culture even, and doesn't speak much English. Still, Curt insists. Curt and Lee face a crisis when Lee's mother comes for a visit. Can she accept Curt and the relationship he has with Lee?

 
PUBLISHED BY: Aspen Mountain Press
ISBN: 978-1-60168-018-1
PUBLICATION DATE: 2006
WORD COUNT: 32563
SEXUAL CONTENT RATING: 4 4 4 4
EBOOK READER RATING:
CATEGORIES: ManLove, Contemporary, Erotica, Interracial, Romantic Comedy
KEYWORDS: medical, doctor, gay romance, contemporary
 

EBOOKS BY Aspen Mountain Press

EBOOKS BY J.M. Snyder

 
EXCERPT
COPYRIGHT J.M. Snyder/2006

By the time he returned I was already relaxing in the hot tub, head back, eyes closed, clothes gone, the water warm and welcome on my bare skin. The plates sat on a towel I had spread within reach, the steaks done to perfection, the shrimp still sizzling on the skewers. Red wine winked in our glasses, the champagne saved for later.

I had no intention of leaving the water until absolutely necessary. I planned on eating right where I was, leaning over the side of the tub if I had to. When I heard the sliding door squeal faintly over the soothing sounds of Kenny G's soprano sax, I let myself sink a little further into the water, until the bubbles tickled my chin.

"Well?" I asked with a slow smile. I heard the solid thud of a belt buckle hitting the floor and opened one eye to see my lover undressing by the side of the tub. "That your mom?"

"Yeah." His pants bunched at his ankles as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. In the last of the sunlight slipping through the blinds around us, his skin took on an olive tone, dark and exotic. His hair stood up in defiant clumps as if he had run his hands through it again and again while on the phone, something he did when he was nervous or upset.

That bedraggled look told me more about the call than the forced smile on his face or the worried look in his eyes. "Everything alright?"

Kicking away his pants, he shrugged off his shirt and dropped it at his feet. The cuff of one sleeve brushed over the wine glasses before falling away. "Fine," he told me, but the way he didn't quite meet my gaze told me he knew I knew better.

He hooked his thumbs into his briefs and, with the complete lack of modesty only a seasoned lover could feel, pushed them down his legs. He stepped out of them and into the hot tub, the steam beading on his body like sweat as he sank down until the water covered his slim shoulders. "She's fine," he murmured, gliding towards me.

Beneath the water, I felt his hand on my knee. It slid up my thigh as he closed the distance between us, but I caught it before it could tangle in the kinked hair at my crotch. "That's dessert," I told him. He laughed and let me reel him in and I kissed his jaw as he sat down beside me. I wanted to take his mind off whatever his mother might have said and get it back where it belonged ... on me. So with a nod at the plates, I said, "Your dinner's getting cold."

 
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