Only at The Cavern

by Anna Alexander

  “I will stay off my feet for a few days,” he conceded as he reached for Abby’s hand. “But I have to stay in contact with my team. I’ll go insane not knowing what’s going on.”

  “Fine. And I’ll be with you the entire time to help you out around the house.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I know you have work to get to.”

  “We shall see.” For the first time since she burst through the door, she smiled. “It’ll be fun. Maybe we’ll find you a hobby.”

  The door opened and Dr. Jovanovich stepped in, followed by an orderly. “Ready to get your head examined, Captain?”

  Hmm. Doc’s question might be more accurate than the joke she intended. Not only was he willing to take time away from work, he also had an idea of how he could best occupy his thoughts during his “vacation”.

  He felt his lips stretch into a predatory grin. “I am putty in your hands, Doc.”

  Chapter Three

  Jasmine ran her finger over the label on the medical folder and shook her head. Marco DeWinter. The man had more charm than one person had any right to. With the touch of gray in his black hair, square jaw and slim build, he looked like James Bond, but he dressed like a college English professor. A sexy combination in her book. He had that rare ability to calm the most frantic person one moment and put a major smack-down on another the next, all while wearing a smile the entire time. Whenever she saw him, he was always cool and in control.

  Well, almost every time.

  A trickle of laughter bubbled in her belly as she recalled the look on his face when he had stumbled upon her at The Cavern. Of course she had been equally mortified at being found out at her favorite hangout. Her nights spent as a dominatrix were not something she announced to the general public. If her family discovered her secret, the term “freak out” would be a gross understatement. As for her work colleagues, the frat-boy mentality was not something she wanted turned in her direction. To the other doctors, she was a void. She came, did her job and left with a minimum of fuss. That was why the nurses loved her. She didn’t question their ability and they didn’t question hers.

  Once the flare of shock of being discovered had faded, she had enjoyed needling the captain. For all he had seen as a cop in the big city, his bug-eyed expression conveyed just how much her appearance had scandalized him. And intrigued him. The hard-on he had sprouted both that night and when she had examined him made no mistake of his interest.

  Poor man. His innuendos might suggest he was willing to play her game, but he hadn’t a clue what it meant to be truly submissive. However, the battle to win his compliance was bound to be epic. Men like DeWinter never relinquished total control. He had a single-minded focus on his job, blinding him to everything else in existence. That type of focus, while admirable, did not lend itself to the ability to give up control to another.

  In the fifteen years she had been engaged in the lifestyle, she’d met her fair share of men who talked a good game but changed their tune after the first few encounters. She had quickly grown tired of men using her to scratch their kinky itch and then wanting to turn the tables and show the “little woman” who was boss. Experience had made her picky about whom she touched and who was allowed to touch her. It was going to take more than a killer grin and a verbal promise to obey to earn her respect in the playroom.

  Pity though. He was quite hunky.

  She handed off the good captain’s file to the admin, then retrieved two walking casts from the supply closet before heading toward his room to see him off. Although another twenty-four hours of enforced bedrest would do him good, his test results were all good, and there really wasn’t any reason for him to stay the night, despite the nurses’ protests. They did enjoy flirting with the man. Fortunately for DeWinter, his sister was more than ready to force him into resting for at least a night or two, and Jasmine was not above encouraging the girl to be more demanding in the execution of her orders. He was a harbinger of all of the signs. Stroke, heart disease, mental exhaustion, slight but present. Whether he appreciated it or not, his sister’s bullying might just save his life.

  The door to his room was closed and she knocked to announce her arrival. The deep-voiced reply to enter sent a smattering of goose bumps up her arms. She’d have to be dead not to appreciate the sexy huskiness in his tone.

  She cracked open the door to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, buttoning up his shirt. The edges of the white button-down framed the bandage that stretched across his chest. Around the gauze and down his belly lay a soft pelt of dark hair, exactly as she expected when she first saw him shirtless. She would have been surprised if the captain engaged in the habit of manscaping. Most of the men she saw in the club were waxed or shaved to baby-soft perfection. She had no preference either way. Sensual torture could be administered just the same whether on bare skin or with a little fur.

  “Oh hey, Doc.” He interrupted her daydream of running her fingers through his chest hair. She really needed to keep her focus. “I thought you were my sister.”

  “She went to bring her car closer to the entrance.”

  “And probably planning diabolical ideas about how to get me to stay off my feet. I saw how she hung on to your every word.”

  “She’s a smart girl. And she loves you.”

  He emitted a disgruntled harrumph, but his eyes sparkled with reciprocal affection. He nodded to the boots in her hands. “What are those?”

  She smiled and set them on the bed by his hip. He had showered since she delivered the good news of his positive CT scan, and the clean scent of his soap cut through the antiseptic smell of the hospital room in the most pleasant way. If they were anywhere else, she’d take the risk and lean over to inhale the delicious scent right from his warm skin followed by a tongue bath over the pulse point on his neck. Talk about giving a new meaning to the term “bedside manner”.

  Focus. Focus.

  “These are walking casts. I know you’re going to pitch a fit about being wheeled out in a chair, with these babies on, you’ll have a good, showy excuse for why you can’t walk out of here on your own. You can take them off once you get home.”

  “What makes you think I’m going to pitch a fit?”

  She raised her brow.

  “I may politely disobey your request, but I don’t pitch fits.”

  “Right. Just sit tight. I’ll strap them on for you.” She rolled a stool over to begin her work. “If you’d like, I can wrap your head in bandages and put your arm in a sling. Make you look really heroic.”

  The contemplative look on his face made her smile. He sighed and shook his head. “Nah. Don’t want to go for overkill.”

  Through the fabric of his pants, his calf muscle bunched against her palm as she positioned the cast into place. From beneath her lashes, she studied the way the denim of his jeans fit around his thighs. The captain had more of a runner’s build than a bodybuilder’s. He was lean and toned in all the right places, but not what one would call ripped. More like the Flash than The Incredible Hulk, at least from what she remembered from her brother’s comic book collection.

  What she liked best about his body was how warm he was to the touch. He radiated heat like a furnace. When she had nearly reached the end of her shift in the middle of the night, and most of the lights were off and the thermostat had been turned down low, she had been half tempted to climb into the bed beside him for heat.

  Sigh… He really was nicely put together.

  “So. Doc…” his voice trailed off.

  Her breath caught as tingles tripped across her neck in warning. Had she been caught admiring his physique?

  “Do you have plans this week?”

  A grin tugged at her lips. Was he fishing for information about her visits to The Cavern? “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Oh.” His free foot swung to and fro. “Would you like to join me for dinner one night?”

  The request brought her upright. Her eyelashes fluttered with her confusion. �
��Dinner?”

  “Yeah. Dinner.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you asking me on a date?”

  “Uh.” A flush of pink raced up his neck. “Yeah.”

  Oh, Lord. “I don’t date patients.”

  “Well…then it’s a good thing I’m not your patient. You’re not my regular doctor. It was only timing that had you on duty and available when I came in.”

  “I don’t date,” she said and tightened the last strap of the boot with a little extra force to make her point.

  “Play then?”

  Her breath caught at his choice of words. “What?”

  “Isn’t that what you call it in the club? Play?”

  Whoa.

  Every molecule in her body froze, except for her heart that pounded like a bass drum in a marching band. Was he seriously suggesting what she thought he was?

  As slowly as ice forms on a lake in winter, she pushed up into a standing position. With him sitting on the bed, they were now at about the same height. It didn’t put her in the most powerful position, but at least he no longer towered over her.

  “What are you saying, Captain?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed and he swayed in his seat. “I’m asking you if you want to play. With me.”

  Intrigued wasn’t quite the word to describe how she felt hearing his stuttered statement. The man actually had the balls to ask her to dominate him in her place of work. He was either brave, cocky or stupid.

  She had to admit, if only to herself, the idea did have a certain appeal. But so did racing Ferraris down I-90. The speed, the danger, the rush of pushing the envelope was what made life worth living. Just as the fiery crash into the mountainside ended it just as quick.

  Wait a minute. Why was she even taking a second of time thinking about his request? She doubted the captain knew what he was asking of her. If he thought she was one of those so-called Doms who engaged in one-and-done encounters, or got off on causing pain and humiliating others because of their own selfish need to make themselves look stronger, disappointment was all he was going to get. She wasn’t a bully.

  She also wasn’t a Dom who was looking for a slave. Work, family and her need for control were all separate facets of her life and had their place. One life did not cross paths with the other. The subs she worked with knew her rules and shared the same desire. If they hungered for more, she did everything possible to match them with another Dom more capable to fill that need.

  Somehow she didn’t think the captain was looking for a permanent or semi-permanent encounter, but she’d play his game, for now. Once she made it clear what it meant to submit, he’d never ask her again, and their working relationship could continue as normal.

  “How exactly do you want me to play with you?” she asked and folded her arms across her chest.

  “I, uh…I don’t know.” He broke her stare and shifted in his seat. “I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t know what I like.”

  “It’s not about what you like. It’s what I like and what I make you like.” She tilted her head and made a great show of looking him over from the top of his thick, dark hair to the blue casts on his feet, lingering on the bulge that strained against his fly. She stepped between his parted knees until a mere breath separated them. “Do you want to fuck me, Captain?”

  Again with the hard swallow. His pupils dilated before his gaze flicked around the room. A moment later he drew in a breath and looked her square in the eye. “Yes.”

  Now it was her turn to swallow hard. Despite her intentions to refuse to feel anything for the man, heat spread throughout her body in a mellow burn she felt in her face and between her thighs. She liked that he didn’t stammer that time. Conviction was such a sexy attribute.

  All the more reason to refuse his request. “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.” The stare-down continued.

  His brows jumped after several tense seconds. “No? That’s it? Just no?”

  “Correct, and before you ask, I’ll explain why. In my world, it’s not about the sex. It’s the give and take of control. Yes, sex is sometimes involved, but it’s not the be-all and end-all of the relationship. My submissive places his entire being in my care. Every choice is taken from them but one. Whether or not to follow my orders. Once that decision is made, they will either reap or suffer to my liking. In my hands I will expect you to learn exactly how to please me. If I ask you to fall on your knees, you hit the ground. If I want to bind you with ropes and have others play with my toy, you will sink into their touch. If I want to take you up the ass with a dildo, you will immediately bend over and spread your cheeks for my possession. You, Captain, are not a man who is capable of that loss of control.”

  “And if I was?” he panted. Red graced his cheeks and his brown eyes shimmered with desire. His chest rose and fell with his quickened breaths. “What if I was that man?”

  Then I’d make every moment the most exquisite torture of your life.

  Her fingers bit into her biceps before she stepped back with a sigh. “Then I would find you the right person to make that happen. If you were truly willing.”

  “Why not you?”

  “Contrary to what you might believe, I’m a one-sub woman. That position is already filled.”

  “Oh.” His posture deflated. “Is it that guy? That man I saw you with that one time?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in a serious relationship.”

  “I’m not, well, I mean, it’s not serious. In a traditional sense.” What was she saying? She didn’t owe him any explanations.

  “Do you love him?”

  His question stopped her short. The sentiment was completely unexpected coming from the captain. Not that she didn’t believe him capable of compassion or other emotions as deep and complicated as love, but he was such a no-nonsense tough guy. Did the fact that she might be in love with someone else determine whether or not he’d continue to press his case?

  The lie tickled her lips, but she refused the temptation to take the easy way out. “Yes, I love him. But not in the way you think. The both of us have a need only a rare few understand. I have earned his trust and it is a gift I cherish. So, yes, I love him, but we are not in love.”

  “I understand.” His shoulders slumped and his fingers gripped the edge of the mattress as a muscle ticked in his jaw. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you. Have to say, I’m jealous.”

  As far as compliments went, his words were not the most eloquent or unique ever to have been spoken, yet she felt his sincerity like the warmth of a fire on a cold winter’s night. It ignited a desire to see to all of his comforts and take away that lonesome puppy-dog look from his handsome face. Touch me, his dark eyes seemed to plead. Hold me. See me as I have seen you.

  She looked down at the floor and cleared her throat. “I’ll see if your sister has arrived and bring your prescriptions.”

  The squeak of her sneakers on the tile as she turned and ran out of the room sounded as if the walls screamed, “Coward,” at her retreating back. That hint of vulnerability was exactly what she looked for in a submissive. That tiny crack in the armor. The suggestion that they knew they were wanting. The indication that they hungered for instruction licked all of her hot spots.

  What if? Ah. A dangerous phrase. What if she took what the captain offered? What if she was able to mold him into the perfect sub who worshipped at her feet but was capable of functioning on his own when she needed personal space?

  And what of Army, her current submissive? She meant what she said. The love between a Dom and their sub was precious and when she had taken Army, she promised her devotion. The hours and patience that went into cultivating the level of trust required in their relationship were not something she’d disregard because someone interesting crossed her path.

  “Let him go, Jaz,” she murmured and went in search of Abby. It was time for the captain to go home.

  * * * * *<
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  Twin frosted glass spheres rested atop pedestals on either side of the asphalt driveway and glowed a mellow gold in the dark winter’s night. Every time she drove between them, Jasmine felt as if she were in that old movie The NeverEnding Story, and she had to pass the Oracles’ test or be burnt to a crisp. Given the mood she was in, blue lasers and fire would be the most likely outcome on this pass through.

  During the last twelve hours of her shift, the skies did their best impression of Snoqualmie Falls, and a few choice assholes decided to drive as if there weren’t two inches of standing water covering the highway. Fortunately the ten-car pile-up had occurred after the morning commute. God help them all if it had been at the height of rush hour.

  On any other night, she’d shake off the trauma of such a trying day by kicking back with a huge glass of Syrah and a steamy romance novel, or be buried deep in the crowd on the dance floor at The Cavern. Escapism was a powerful tool and she made it her passion to utilize every trick imaginable to deal with the pressures she faced every day. A night spent with her family was not among those techniques.

  In truth, she’d rather be anywhere else in the world than walking up the stone steps of the home of her mother and stepfather. Twice before she had tried to avoid these monthly dinners, and twice her mother had called nonstop for over an hour before showing up at Jasmine’s doorstep. What was more important than family time? Why must she make her mother cry?

  The lesson Jasmine learned was to make sure she was scheduled to work on as many of those nights as possible, and to never have a submissive in her home. Thankfully her mother hadn’t realized the incense that had been hurriedly lit was to cover the scent of sex and sweat and was not for ambiance.

  In all fairness, Oksana and her husband Bruno Brodsky were lovely people. To those they weren’t related to. And the males of the family. Carry an extra X-chromosome and the expectations and attitudes reverted back to the happy, fun days of the Middle Ages. Nothing had disappointed her mother more than Jasmine’s choice to go to college instead of going back to her Czech homeland and finding a husband. One would have thought she had announced she’d become a drug-dealing mass murderer the way her mother had carried on.