Only at The Cavern

by Anna Alexander

  The idea was ridiculous, for certain. He was a man. A cop. An alpha who was comfortable telling others what to do. But for the last month, in the dark of night when he wasn’t staring at police work until his eyes crossed, his imagination began to spin fantasies of what it would be like to serve Mistress Jasmina. To kneel at her feet, naked, braced for her command and to follow as she wished.

  Between chasing Smithwick and entertaining lascivious thoughts of Dr. Jovanovich, his mind had been going nonstop. It was a wonder he hadn’t dropped from sheer exhaustion.

  “Well.” She tapped her pen against the clipboard before setting it on the side table, breaking the spell of possibility her little catch of breath had evoked. She reached toward the control panel on the bed and raised the back to a sitting position. “Let’s begin. The lacerations you sustained on your chest and arm are superficial and only required a few stitches. When I admitted you last night, your partner said you landed feet first on the roof of his car before tumbling to the ground.”

  “You were here last night?” he interrupted.

  “You don’t remember?”

  “Obviously not.”

  Her brow furrowed as she answered, “Yes, I was here last night. If I want to keep my job, I do have to show up to work.”

  “Oh. I—uh. I thought you might have been out last night. You know.” He lowered his voice. “Out.”

  She dropped her gaze and her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. “I’m in the middle of an eighteen-hour shift.”

  The knowledge that she had been at the hospital and not playing at The Cavern perked him up like a shot of caffeine. “That’s a long day. You look great. Fresh. Pretty, like you’re just starting your day. What’s your secret?”

  Her lips twitched as she fought a grin. “Frequent moments of amusement from charmers such as yourself. As I was saying, we took X-rays of both legs and your hips, and fortunately for you, nothing is broken. I’m going to check your ankles and feet again. Now that the pain medication has burned off some, I want to see how you’re really feeling. Please place your hands on top of the blanket.”

  “What?” his voice cracked with alarm. “Why?”

  “I have my reasons. Place them on top of the blanket. Please.” The words were polite, but her tone suggested he’d better do as she said or else she’d find a way to make him.

  He gulped hard and carefully slid his hands out from beneath the blanket, taking care to make sure his erection was properly hidden.

  “Thank you,” she murmured then moved to the foot of the bed.

  She pulled the bedding back to expose the lower half of his legs. Bruises marked his skin, and his ankles appeared to be twice the normal size. Her fingers were gentle as she prodded the tissue around one foot.

  “Do your legs ache?” she asked.

  Nooo, it wasn’t his legs that were aching at the moment. “No. Not really,” he choked out.

  “Any pain when I do this?” She pressed against his right ankle, making him wince but he forced the sensation away.

  “Nope.”

  “What about this?”

  Agh! “Nope.”

  “By the way your fingers are flinching, I beg to differ. Stop trying to be a tough guy. I can’t determine the extent of damage if you are not being truthful with me. Do you want to leave this hospital tonight or next week?”

  Was she going to be around the entire time? He mentally kicked his ass. “Sorry, Doc. I thought you’d be impressed by a guy who isn’t a wimp.”

  “I’m impressed by a man who can follow orders.”

  “I’ve noticed that,” he muttered before conceding, “The second time you pressed hurt worse than the first.”

  “Thank you.” She rewarded him with a caress up his shin then continued asking him questions as she smoothed her hands over his feet, tickling in places and digging in deep with her thumbs in others as she gauged the extent of his injuries.

  The mixture of pleasure and pain sent a heat through his body that soon had sweat beading across his forehead. It took all of his efforts to keep his hips still and not rub his hard-on against the bedding for some measure of relief. It didn’t help matters that as she bent over, the front of her scrubs gaped just enough he was able to see the top of the lacy white bra cupping her full breasts. With each move of her body he silently prayed the entire garment would miraculously melt away and reveal all of her creamy skin to his gaze.

  “Good.” She stood upright and tugged the blanket back into the place. The action tightened the bedding over his lap, revealing the outline of his erection.

  As she circled the bed, he tried to press his hips as deep into the mattress as possible to minimize the pup tent and prayed she didn’t notice.

  “I’m going to check your lacerations now.”

  He couldn’t keep his eyes off her face as she peeled away the bandage on his arm. How many times in the past had he spoken to Dr. Jovanovich when he had come to question a victim or suspect for one of his cases? Not once had he stopped to notice just how beautiful she was. Details of his job had made him only see the professional, cut-to-the-chase woman who neither stood out nor faded into the background.

  Funny how a chance meeting in the dark highlighted the woman underneath the green scrubs. The bit of sunshine that filtered through the drawn blinds highlighted the auburn shades in her brunette braid and matched the color of her eyes. The tinge of pink blush on her cheeks complemented her olive complexion and the roundness of her features. When she was in full concentration mode, her lips softened into plump little pillows he wanted to stroke with the tip of his tongue. Damn. Why hadn’t he noticed her sooner? He could have…

  What? He could have asked her out? Fit time with her into his schedule while he was hunting Smithwick? Did a woman with her tastes even engage in an activity as mundane as dating?

  Dr. Jovanovich was so out of his league. His past experiences with women were either the occasional casual fling, never lasting more than a few dates, or a one-night stand here and there. And then there were the years spent pining for a woman who had only looked at him as a friend. Brett Briggs’s marriage to Lucian Kilsgaard’s brother effectively ended all dreams of her coming back to the city and finding a place in his arms. Once he had come to terms with that reality, the only time the thought of female companionship crossed his mind was when he was horny, and his hand was sufficient to scratch that itch.

  Now here stood the doc. A woman who he was certain carried a PhD in male/female relationships. A woman who could chew him up and spit him out and make him ask for more His idea of wild-crazy-sexy probably didn’t rate a raised eyebrow on her Richter scale.

  But he wanted to find out. He wanted to sample a tiny morsel of what he knew Mistress Jasmina could provide almost as badly as he wanted to see Smithwick behind bars.

  The flutter of her fingers as she worked loose the bandage across his chest made him bite back a moan of pleasure. Only the sight of the red slash running from the center of his sternum to the edge of his left nipple tempered his desire.

  “Looking good,” she murmured. “An inch deeper, the story would have been much different. You were lucky. Many times over.”

  “Thanks,” he mumbled.

  The examination continued with a check of his vitals and a glance into his eyes with a bright light. She nodded in response to whatever she saw, then reached out, spearing her fingers into his hair. With the same gentle touch she used with his feet, she rubbed and pressed all over his scalp. With the bare curve of her neck mere inches away, the clean scent of her skin mixed with the mellow sensation of her hands made his blood hum in his veins. He detected no other perfumes or artificial scents, just pure Jasmina.

  He felt his lips part and his tongue wanted to lick along the ridge of her collarbone. He wanted to sink his teeth into the plump pillow of her bare earlobe, just to hear that quiet little gasp of air again.

  She hit a sore spot on his scalp and he hissed. She moved her touch lower to press against the
stiff muscles at the base of his skull and this time he could not contain a groan of pleasure. The woman was killing him. “You’ve got magic fingers there, Doc. I think you missed your calling as a masseuse.”

  To his disappointment, she stepped back with a tiny smile flirting on her lips. “Your physical injuries will heal just fine. What I’m mostly concerned about is what’s going on with your brain.”

  “Are you questioning my mental capacity? Gee, thanks, Doc.”

  “Maybe.” He loved the way her eyes lit up with her amusement. “In all seriousness, head trauma is not something I take lightly. I don’t know how hard, or on what exactly, you might have hit your head when you fell. You could have a brain bleed or swelling I can’t detect with a regular exam. As a precaution I’m going to have a CT scan performed. If all looks well, you can be released this evening.”

  For the first time since he woke he became concerned. “If? I don’t like the sound of that word. What happens if ‘if’ doesn’t look well?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. My gut tells me all is well, but I want to be certain. It’s my job to be thorough, Captain DeWinter.”

  “Marco. Please call me Marco.” And preferably in a throaty moan as you ride my cock.

  He shoved the image aside. “And I get it, Doc. I do. You’re good at your job. So if the X-ray of my head looks good, I can walk out tonight?”

  “Not exactly. To prevent further injury, you need to keep off your feet for a week.”

  “A week?” He struggled to sit up. “Sorry, Doc, but I have to work. I’m just as dedicated to my job as you are to yours.”

  She pushed against his chest, forcing him back down. “I can see by your injuries that you are dedicated, but you have to allow your ankles to heal. If they give out, you risk greater injury to the rest of your body. Including your thick skull. One week. I’ll tell your commander too, knowing full well you both will dismiss my orders. But if I see you back in the ER because you broke your ankle or cracked your head open, I’ll tie you to the bed myself.”

  “Is that a promise?” he asked, and this time he didn’t hide the blatant rasp of desire that deepened his voice at the mention of her binding him in any fashion.

  To her credit, she didn’t blush or stammer. Instead she held his gaze with the same calculating look on her face she had when he had spotted her in The Cavern the month before. Right before she dug her nails into his side and threatened him bodily harm if he breathed a word about her alter ego.

  “Do not test me. Captain.” She collected her clipboard and began writing notations across the pages. “A nurse will be in shortly to prepare you for imaging. After the scan, we’ll send you something to eat. Lucky for you, it’s green Jell-O today. I’m also going to write you a prescription for Lisinopril.”

  “What’s that for?”

  “Your high blood pressure.”

  “I have high blood pressure?”

  Her snort of laughter was so charming. “Why am I not surprised? It’s one-sixty over a hundred, and it’s held steady since you’ve arrived.”

  “I take it that’s not good?”

  “Only if you want to suffer from a stroke. With a change in diet, medication and a decrease in stress, you should be able to manage it.”

  “Decrease my stress? Fat chance. You did see who my supervisor is. There’s a better chance that I will actually take the entire week off like you want.”

  “Captain.” She folded her arms across her chest and nailed him with a stare that struck him right in his overworked heart. “I hate to break it to you, but you are not invincible. You might have survived a three-story fall today. Do not make the mistake of thinking you will survive the next. You’re a grown man who does not need a lecture, so instead I will make a wish for you. I hope over the next few days you’ll take a moment to put some priorities in order. Despite being an asshole on occasion, you’re a good guy.”

  He swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. “Would you miss me, if I was gone from this world?”

  After several slow blinks her lips twitched. Ah, there it was. That tiny hint of a smile that warmed her eyes. “Of course. You bring me some of my most interesting patients. But I think there is someone who will miss you more. You’ve had a visitor pacing the floor for the last hour.”

  A visitor? “Who?”

  She went to the door and waved to whoever was waiting in the hall. A young woman came barreling through the doorway. Dark shadows made the red rimming her eyes appear even more harsh, and sections of black hair spilled from her ponytail in a tangled mess. She wore her waitress uniform from the diner, the apron still tied around her hips, confirming that she had raced to the hospital in the middle of her morning shift. Hours of work missed that Marco knew she couldn’t afford.

  Ah fuck. Abby. He closed his eyes on a groan. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be, you asshole.” His baby sister drew up short by the side of the bed. Anger burned across her cheeks in red patches and her nostrils flared as her gaze took in his condition. She glanced back at the doctor. “Are you sure he’ll live?”

  The doc shrugged. “For now.”

  “Good.” Abby punched him in the biceps.

  “Ow,” he hollered. “Careful. I’m tender.”

  “I’ll tender you.” She slapped him again. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  “Language. Please.” He glanced over his sister’s shoulder to see Dr. Jovanovich ease out of the room with her little smile. “I was doing my job.”

  “Yeah, right. Cassidy told me everything. You almost died chasing after one of Smithwick’s men. And a lackey at that.”

  “But I didn’t die.”

  “You could have.” She flopped down on the mattress near his hip. “Marco, you have to stop. It’s been three years. Smithwick has money and men and weapons, and you only have the stupid city police force.”

  “And Coulter, and the rest of my team.”

  “Cassidy isn’t enough.”

  “Well they’re all I’ve got,” he growled then released a weary sigh. “You know I have to finish this, Abs.”

  “Why does it have to be you?”

  “Because I’m the best. And I won’t stop until he’s caught.” He reached out and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear.

  “It won’t bring them back, you know,” she whispered in a small voice as her dark eyes grew watery. “And I don’t want you to join them.”

  Along Abby’s forearms she carried the scars of the auto accident that almost took her life. She refused to cover them up, answering any who questioned her with stark honesty that they were the direct result of drugs and stupidity. The drug use was compliments of her boyfriend. The stupidity part she claimed for choosing to stand by him even when he made the shift from user to seller. And when he hadn’t sold enough to satisfy Smithwick’s henchmen, they had forced the car she had been riding in into a highway barrier at seventy-five miles an hour. Of the five people in the car, only Abby and her best friend’s boyfriend walked out alive. Or at least Abby had. The boy would be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

  His little sister had gone from a starry-eyed young woman to a jaded adult in the blink of an eye. It was the investigation of the crash that led the police to their first solid lead to the mastermind behind the rising drug scene in the city. And it was then that Marco vowed to personally stop the man who dared to hurt his family and the families of others who had been hurt by those working under Smithwick’s manipulations.

  He never declared himself a saint, or the self-appointed savior of the city, but he never backed away from a challenge. That wasn’t going to change now.

  “I know it won’t bring them back, Abby. But it’s my job to protect this city the best way I can. I can’t stop when I’m so close to nailing him.”

  She sniffed. “You’ve been saying that for over a year.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Damn straight it’s true,” Cou
lter said as he entered the room. “I heard the doc tell Asante that you’re out for two weeks. That sucks.”

  “That’s what she said. She knows that’s not going to happen.”

  “Marco,” his sister chided.

  “I said I’d try, but the woman’s smart. She understands the game.”

  “And she’s hot too,” Coulter added. “Why have I never noticed that before? And she looks familiar.”

  No way was Marco going to say where Coulter would have seen her. “Because we’ve been to the ER on other cases many times before. So you never told me what happened with Konkle after I fell.”

  Coulter chuckled and clapped his hands together. “Physically, he got away, however, you tore his shirt when you fell. The section that came down with you had his cellphone in the front pocket.”

  “Yes,” Marco hissed. “Tell me there was something good in it.”

  “We’re working on it.” He slid a meaningful glance at Abby. “Benny’s trying to download as much information as possible before service is canceled. What he’s found so far looks good.”

  “I want a full report immediately.”

  “No,” Abby all but shouted. “No work. Dr. Jo told you to rest. I heard that much from standing outside the door.”

  “Dr. Jo?”

  She nodded. “She said I could call her that. I like her. She was the only person who would answer my questions and not treat me like a child.”

  “Abby—”

  “No. You’re going to heal and become stronger. And you’re going to remember that life isn’t all about work. When I was hurt, you made me get off my ass and reconnect with the world. Now it’s your turn. You owe me.”

  He started to scoff, but when he saw the fear and worry in her eyes, his chest caved in and grew hollow. That look reminded him so much of their mother, and he had certainly given her enough cause to worry about his welfare throughout his wild youth. Cancer took their mother before he graduated from college, and their father had moved to Arizona, unable to remain in the home they had shared. His sister was really the only family he had left.