Healing Divides

by Stella Moore

  There was the prim and proper doctor he remembered. “Sure, Melissa. What are your plans for the evening?”

  She held up her half empty drink with a small, delicate hand. Her skin looked as smooth as silk, and wondered what it would feel like wrapped around his cock. He tucked his free hand into his pocket to ward off the temptation to touch her.

  “For now, this is it,” she replied, rattling the glass a bit. “I just figured I'd see where it took me,” she added, taking a small sip of the drink.

  Jack frowned. The idea of her stumbling around an area she wasn't familiar with at night, when she was already three sheets to the wind didn't sit right with him. “You're not driving home tonight.” He'd meant it as a question but even to his own ears it sounded more like an order.

  Melissa eyed him speculatively. “No. I took a ride share into town and got a hotel. Part of my plan for an evening with no responsibilities.”

  He was relieved but not surprised. As she'd told him once before, they didn't hand out PhDs to morons. Even when she was attempting to be carefree and spontaneous she'd managed to be responsible. Still, he didn't like the idea of leaving her alone.

  “Good,” he responded gruffly, savoring another sip of his whiskey. Damn, the stuff was spectacular.

  Melissa was giving him that look again, like she was sizing him up. He held her gaze until she turned and faced him fully and leaned in conspiratorially.

  “And what if I said I was driving home?” Her voice had dropped to a low purr that went straight to his loins. He'd heard a similar tone from her once before. You wouldn't know what to do if I told you, she'd said, right after telling him that people weren't always what they seemed. He wondered if he was about to find out what she'd meant by that. “What would you do, Detective Jack Meyers? Arrest me? Put me in jail for the night?”

  “Of course not,” he scoffed.

  Her lips curled upward in a smile that was utterly and purely female. “Of course not,” she echoed. “Would you like to know what I think you should do?”

  He wondered where exactly this conversation was going. “Sure, doc.”

  “I think,” she leaned in until he could feel her breath tickling his ear, “that you should spank me.”

  If there was anything she could have said that would have shocked him more, Jack couldn't think of it at that moment. The prim, proper, not-a-hair-out-of-place doctor had just told him to spank her. The image of her, bare bottomed over his knee as he turned her ass scarlet formed in his mind, and he was suddenly hard as a rock. It was a long while before he could respond.

  “Well, then I guess it's good for you that you're not driving home,” he eventually said.

  Melissa sat back and rolled her eyes at the statement. “Yes, that's me. Always the responsible one.” She scowled at her now empty glass. “I'm getting a refill. Would you like another whiskey?”

  “No, and you're not getting another drink, either,” he said. Another ounce of alcohol and he'd have to carry her back to her hotel. “Let's get some fresh air.”

  She straightened her back and gave him an imperious look he imagined she often used to get her way. “You do not tell me what to do, Detective.”

  Taking his lead from her previous comment, Jack leaned over and spoke so that only she could hear him. “I do tonight, unless you're anxious to find out what a spanking from me would feel like after all.”

  When he pulled away enough to look at her, the lust in her eyes was unmistakable. Apparently, the good doctor wouldn't mind some rough treatment after all. Unfortunately for both of them, tonight wasn't the night to explore that possibility. But he'd already decided that he would be exploring it, and many more possibilities, with the doctor at some point in the near future.

  One thing was for certain: he definitely wasn't bored now.

  Chapter 3

  When Melissa awoke the next morning, she groaned at the light piercing through the window and pulled the covers over her head. How much had she had to drink last night? She'd lost count after three Manhattans and the rest of the night was a bit of a blur.

  She gasped and sat straight up in the bed. Certainly she must have been dreaming, because there was just no possible way she'd told Detective Meyers to…

  No. Not possible. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks just at the thought of it. She'd kept her desires a secret from everyone her entire life. She certainly wasn't about to spill them to a virtual stranger after a few drinks.

  She slipped out of the plush, comfortable bed so that she could shower and arrange a ride home. But when she passed by the opening to the living room area of the small suite, she didn't quite succeed in biting back a groan.

  Sitting on the couch, larger than life, was Detective Jack Meyers. So maybe she hadn't dreamt it, at least not entirely. That didn't mean some of it hadn't been a dream. But when he turned and pinned her with those hazel eyes and his lips curved up into a smile she could only describe as predatory, she began to doubt that any bit of her sketchy memories were the result of a dream.

  “Mornin’, doc,” he said with that deep southern drawl that made her knees weak. “Sleep okay?”

  “Yes, thank you. Did you, ah, sleep well?” Her cheeks felt like they could cook an egg as he studied her with that unwavering stare.

  “I did. Not the most comfortable pull out in the world, but it did the trick.” Relief washed over her as she recognized that this was his way of reassuring her that nothing had happened between them the night before.

  “You didn't have to stay, but thank you for making sure I made it to the hotel safely.” She pulled manners and etiquette around her like a shield. Just because she'd made a fool of herself the night before didn't mean she had to continue the debacle this morning. “I was just going to get a shower and then arrange for a ride home. Please don't feel like you need to stick around.”

  At that, he grinned and settled himself back against the couch, one arm stretched out across the back and one foot propped on the opposite knee. “No reason for you to pay for a ride home. I'm headed back that way myself. Why don't you just ride with me?”

  Despite the heat she could still feel in her cheeks, Melissa titled her chin up another notch. “I appreciate the offer, but no, thank you.” He may not expect payment for giving her a ride home, but she was smart enough to realize the ride wouldn’t be free.

  Some of the playfulness faded from his expression and she instinctively took a step back, then silently cursed herself for doing so.

  “Look, doc, no strings attached. It's just a ride home and I'd like to make sure you make it there okay. I won't even ask to come inside. Deal?”

  She studied him for a moment and then conceded with a sigh. “Fine. Just a ride home. I'll be ready in twenty minutes.”

  The shocked look on his face when she was ready to leave exactly twenty minutes later almost made it worth accepting the ride from him. He recovered quickly and took her bag from her before gesturing for her to lead the way out of the room. Since she still had a bit of a headache, she decided not to argue with him. And really, it was nice to have someone carry a bit of the burden, even if it was just taking her small duffel to the car.

  By the time she'd checked out, he'd brought the car around to the front of the hotel. When he spotted her coming out of the front doors, he immediately jogged around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. Melissa bit back another sigh as she slid onto the seat. It was nice to feel taken care of, even for just one morning. But it wouldn't do to get used to the feeling.

  “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” Jack asked conversationally as they wound their way through the mountains back towards home.

  “Work. I need to go over some notes for my appointments this week.” She didn't add that the rest of her time would be spent kicking herself over the events of the night before. “And you?”

  “Work,” he replied with a grin. “We're a fun pair, huh?”

  She laughed and began to relax. “I woul
d say we’re professionals dedicated to our chosen vocations.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, sounds like something you would say.”

  “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  “Just that you talk pretty, doc. That’s all. I like to listen to you.”

  She wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she just kept quiet and enjoyed the ride.

  “Well, thank you again for making sure I was safe last night. And for the ride home this morning,” she said when they pulled up in front of her house.

  “It was nothing. What are your plans for the rest of the week?”

  “My plans?” What was it about the man that continually threw her off balance?

  “I'd like to take you to dinner. We had some very interesting conversations last night.” The predatory smile returned with the declaration.

  She stiffened her spine and pinned him with a withering glare. “I don't know what you think we discussed last night, detective, but I have no desire to have dinner with you this week or any other week. Good day.” She slammed the door to the car behind her and was halfway up her front walk when she realized she'd left her bag in his car. For a moment, she considered just leaving it so that she wouldn't ruin her dramatic exit. But duty outweighed pride, and since she had client folders in the bag, she turned back.

  The infuriating man was leaning against the car, holding her bag. “Forget something?” he called, which did nothing to calm her currently raging mood. She marched back down the drive and attempted to pull the bag from him, but he easily kept it in his grasp. He gave a slight tug and she fell forward against his unsurprisingly hard, muscular chest.

  “You can fight it if you want, doc,” he murmured, studying her with hooded eyes. “But we're just getting started. At some point, hopefully soon, you're going to find yourself over my knee and in my bed. So why not just enjoy the ride?”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks—as well as to the place between her thighs. She yanked on the bag again and he let go, causing her to unbalance and stumble backwards. Luckily, she caught herself before she landed on her ass on the sidewalk. She turned and with as much dignity as she could muster, stalked back to her house.

  Inside, she leaned her back against the front door to compose herself. “The nerve of that man,” she muttered, glaring at the bag in her hand. He'd actually threatened—promised, really—to spank her. Her traitorous body practically hummed with desire at the thought.

  She pushed away from the door and stopped in at her office to drop off the files she'd brought home, then she made her way upstairs to unpack her bag and start a load of laundry. The simple, menial chores helped to calm her somewhat, but her mind kept drifting back to the confrontation in her front yard.

  It was her own fault, she decided after turning the scenario over in her mind and looking at it from several different angles. After all, she'd told him he should spank her. She hadn't just hinted at it, she'd flat out told him that he should. It was intriguing that he didn't seem put off by the idea of disciplining her. Her mind began to wander again and she found herself imagining what a spanking from him would be like. He was tall, much taller than her own five-foot five-inch frame. It wasn't a leap to believe that he'd have no problem holding her in position as he delivered a sound punishment.

  It was too bad she'd never get to experience it. The knowledge was an ache in her chest she couldn't seem to shake. But being with a man that way required a level of courage she'd never been able to find within herself. It would be best to just put Detective Jack Meyers out of her mind for good.

  Chapter 4

  By Monday morning enough time had passed for Melissa to be acutely ashamed of her behavior after Jack had dropped her off. She'd been rude for no real reason and her own code of ethics dictated that she should apologize. Flipping through her files, she found the business card he'd given her when they'd first met months ago. He'd been investigating a stalking case involving one of her clients and they'd crossed paths a couple of times professionally during the case.

  During her lunch break, she gathered her courage and dialed his cell.

  “Meyers.” The low, gravelly voice set her nerves on edge. What was it about him that caused such a visceral reaction in her?

  “Jack? It's Melissa. How are you?” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded stiff and overly proper, so she took a deep breath in an attempt to relax.

  “Hey, doc. What's up?”

  “Um, well, I just wanted to apologize,” she forced herself to say, wincing at the prissy tone she couldn't seem to shake.

  “For what?” he asked. She got the impression he wasn't asking because he didn't know. Rather, that he wanted her to explain what she'd done wrong. Her core clenched at the thought, and at the image that came to mind of her standing in front of him, explaining why she deserved a spanking. She felt herself blush and once again she was infuriated by the entire situation. She was a doctor for heaven’s sake. She should be able to get through one conversation with the man without an embarrassing reaction.

  “I was rude and you didn't deserve it. So, I apologize.” There. She'd apologized so now he could accept and they could go their separate ways.

  “You were rather rude,” he mused, his voice dropping in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. “I accept your apology.”

  She heard the implied but at the end of the sentence. After a pregnant pause, she pressed on. “Thank you. I'll let you get back to work, then.” She told herself not to be disappointed by the interaction as she'd gotten exactly what she wanted out of it.

  Or so she thought.

  “Not so fast,” he said, authority dripping from every syllable. “Rudeness has consequences.”

  Melissa's heart raced and she felt the palms of her hands grow damp. She ruthlessly pushed away the thought that she deserved whatever consequences he had in mind. “I hardly think that's an appropriate comment, detective.”

  His deep laugh rumbled in her ear. “I've never claimed to be a big fan of etiquette, sweetheart.”

  She huffed out a breath. “Well I am. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  “One dinner, doc. That's all I'm asking. It's the least you could do after the way you behaved the other day.”

  She knew he was teasing her, baiting her, but still she found herself reacting strongly to the implied threat in his voice. “Fine. One dinner, then we can just forget about this whole mess.”

  “How about tomorrow? I can pick you up around eight.”

  “Tomorrow is fine. I'll see you at eight, then.” Without waiting for a response, she punched the button to end the call. Her stomach clenched as she looked down at the screen. She wondered what kind of consequences might result from hanging up on him, not that she had any intention of finding out. A little voice whispered that she was a liar, but she ruthlessly silenced it.

  Later that evening, she stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few essentials for the week. While studying her options in the frozen dinner section, she heard someone call her name. Turning, she spotted Elisa Davenport rushing towards her. The petite blonde threw her arms around Melissa's neck and squealed out a greeting.

  “Hey doc! How's it been?”

  Melissa couldn't help but grin at the woman's infectious enthusiasm. “It's been good, thank you. And you? How are you and Paul?”

  Elisa’s smile dimmed. “We’re good. Things are good. How about you?”

  It was on the tip of Melissa’s tongue to press. But Elisa wasn’t a patient and they weren’t really friends. “I’m doing well, thank you.”

  “Hey, we're having a cookout next Sunday for Labor Day. You should come! And if you don't have a date, I can find you one,” Elisa added with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Oh, I'm not sure if I should,” Melissa hedged. Elisa was best friends with a former patient, which made developing a friendship with her a bit of a thorny area, ethically.

  “Please at least consider it,” Elisa said. “I know Penny would love to see you. And
I was joking about setting you up. Paul wouldn’t approve.” The last was said in a joking tone, but there was something in her eyes that made Melissa wonder if there was trouble in paradise. The part of her that couldn’t resist helping someone who was hurting overrode her good sense.

  “I'll think about it. Thank you for the invitation, either way.”

  Elisa bounced in place before giving Melissa another hard squeeze. “Yay! I really hope you'll come. Just text me and let me know.” She held out a hand for Melissa’s phone and punched in her number. With that, she bounced off to finish her shopping, leaving Melissa behind to contemplate the frozen food section once again.

  Back at home, with the groceries put away and the house tidied, Melissa wandered aimlessly from room to room. She loved her little house, and not only because it was hers. She loved every inch of it, all of the character and mystery tucked away into the details. She'd meant to do some renovations when she first purchased it a few years ago, but she’d never really gotten around to it beyond slapping on some paint here and there. Maybe she'd give herself a bit of a vacation sometime soon and finally get some work done.

  She made her way up the stairs to her bedroom, where she studied the contents of her closet critically. It had been a while since she'd been on a date, and her clothes reflected that. For the first time in years, she mourned the lack of female friends in her life. That thought brought Elisa to mind. Melissa genuinely liked her, and Penny. It would be nice to have girlfriends. Especially girlfriends with whom she could share certain details of her life that others might not understand.

  With her mind made up, she jogged back down the stairs and grabbed her phone before she could chicken out.

  Hi Elisa. It’s Melissa. Thanks for the invitation to the cookout next weekend, I'd love to come. In the meantime, how do you feel about clothes shopping?