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Bending further down she brushed the pouty bow of the girl’s lips with her own, the taste of Polly’s strawberry flavored lip balm like the flavor of innocence itself. Nineteen-year-old Polly hates going to the doctor, and her annual medical exam is always unpleasant. She hates it even more when she finds out that her insurance was canceled and she’s on the hook for a pile of bills that she can’t hope to pay. But then her doctor offers a proposal that will get her off the hook—involving a threesome with him and his nurse. How much is Polly willing to do to pay off her bills?
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POLLY & HER DOCTOR
PUNISHING POLLY #3
Polly & Her Doctor
Copyright © 2013 Kelli Wolfe
Published by Pink Parts Press
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced in any form or by any means, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
To be notified of new book releases and sales, sign up for Kelli’s mailing list or subscribe to her blog. She also writes romance under the pen name Olivia Blake.
Bending further down she brushed the pouty bow of the girl’s lips with her own, the taste of Polly’s strawberry flavored lip balm like the flavor of innocence itself.
Nineteen-year-old Polly hates going to the doctor, and her annual medical exam is always unpleasant. She hates it even more when she finds out that her insurance was canceled and she’s on the hook for a pile of bills that she can’t hope to pay. But then her doctor offers a proposal that will get her off the hook—involving a threesome with him and his nurse. How much is Polly willing to do to pay off her bills?
Polly and Her Doctor
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About the Author
POLLY HATED GOING TO THE DOCTOR. The long waits, Dr. Wilkerson’s cold instruments, and brusque nurses made her dread every visit with the same loathing she usually reserved for math finals. Then there were all of the sick people—she was always afraid she was going to catch something and end up more sick than she was when she arrived. Last time she had come in to be treated for a UTI and managed to pick up a nasty strain of the flu that took her almost two weeks to get over. Of course she couldn’t prove that she got it at the clinic, but the timing was certainly right.
At least this time she wasn’t sick—she was just in for her annual pelvic exam. Not that it was anything to look forward to, either, and between her neighbor and her boss she had already had too many people poking around down there recently as it was. The memories of those encounters made her shudder—after all of that she was just lucky she was only there for a pelvic exam and not a prenatal visit.
The nasally voice of the receptionist grated almost as much as the use of her hated first name. Polly dropped the magazine she had been leafing through and walked up to the main desk. Eyes like chips of flint peered dubiously up at her through black-rimmed glasses.
“Are you Priscilla Perkins?”
“Polly,” she corrected. “I go by my middle name, Pauline. Everyone calls me Polly except my brother. He still calls me Priscilla just because he knows I hate it. They were supposed to write it down on my file.”
She shifted nervously, knowing that she was over-explaining, but the receptionist ignored her chatter and pecked furiously at her keyboard.
“I need to see your insurance card, and your copay is thirty-five dollars.”
Polly handed over the card and two twenty dollar bills. The receptionist stared at the cash as though she had been handed a dead mouse then put it away and passed back the change and a receipt.
A very pretty nurse in her late twenties beckoned to Polly and ushered her into one of the exam rooms. Working briskly she took down Polly’s weight, temperature, and blood pressure before proceeding with a basic questionnaire about her periods and general health. When she was satisfied the nurse handed over a folded gown made of light blue paper.
“Change into this, sweetie, and I’ll be back in a couple of minutes with the doctor.”
Polly changed quickly, not bothering to tie the gown in back, and was sitting on the edge of the exam table when the nurse returned. The doctor accompanying her wasn’t the grandfatherly Dr. Wilkerson, though, but a really cute younger man with sandy-blond hair and warm brown eyes and an air of self-assurance that Polly found disturbingly sexy.
“Where’s Dr. Wilkerson?” She winced at the nervous squeak in her voice.
“Out of town with a family emergency, so I’m seeing his patients while he’s away,” he told her. “It’s all right, though; I’ve been working as his understudy and I’m pretty sure I remember where all the parts are supposed to be.”
His grin sent a very naughty tingle through her, but a quick glance down at his left hand slammed that door shut. Why did the good ones all have to be married?
“So you go by Polly, right? I’m Dr. Stillman. Bobbie here tells me that you seem to be pretty healthy. No problems since you got over that UTI?”
“No, I feel fine.”
“OK, then. I want to start off with a breast exam. I know Dr. Wilkerson doesn’t always do that, but since we only do these exams once a year I like to be thorough. Bobbie, you want to help her with her gown?”
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