by Anya Summers
As it turned out, he could. Quinten drove her to his police station. Sadie should have known he was a cop from his bearing. Then he was kind enough to drive her to the hospital after taking her fingerprints. She liked him. He was nice, in an imposing, authoritarian way.
From what he had said, he didn’t see her application taking more than a few days, or being denied. By the time she walked into Grace’s room, Sadie was starting to feel like her life was making sense again.
And while she noticed that Ram had called, like he’d said he would, she ignored it and let it go to voicemail. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to him—she did, and that was the problem. He would make it all clinical and distant, whereas she wanted more. So damn much more, she ached with it.
Sadie was avoiding confronting him mainly because she wasn’t ready for the joy that had infused her to diminish by one iota. Once he made it clear that he was done with this thing between them and she was forced to find a different Dom to instruct her in the lifestyle, then her contented bubble would burst.
She’d deal with it when she had to, and not a moment before. Sadie was living in the now.
Chapter 14
Ram sat, impatiently drumming his fingers against his desk, waiting for Sadie to answer her phone. It rolled over to her voicemail. The dulcet tones of her voice sounded through the receiver, carrying that hint of breathiness. It reminded him of the way she had sounded beneath him on Saturday night, her breathy gasps and sweet cries of ecstasy.
He shouldn’t want her—notwithstanding the ethical implications of the lines he had not just crossed but had blazed past like a race car driver attempting to break the sound barrier. And yet, his over-indulgence on Saturday night had merely whetted his appetite for more. The boundaries he had crossed mattered little when he’d been buried deep inside her. More than once in the last twenty-four hours since he had left her place, he had thought about her, and craved her sweet form.
The message on her voicemail beeped. “Sadie, this is Dr. O’Malley. I just emailed you all the information for Dr. Marsha Lee, and have set up an appointment for you to see her at one today. Call me back and let me know you have everything you need.”
The message was his attempt to maintain some type of professionalism. But even to his own ears it seemed cold and distant. The way he had left things yesterday morning—he’d been a complete dingus. And he didn’t blame her for avoiding his call. He’d been a schmuck. She had been sheer perfection. Sadie was warm and giving, ridiculously sexy, making him want to worship every inch of her lithe body, and had accepted him as he was, not flinching when she discovered his missing limb but going on to blow his freaking mind and make him climax so hard, he’d been thankful they had already been lying down or he would have made a fool of himself.
And what had he done? He’d tossed up wall after wall, putting space and distance between them. Because she had rocked his fucking world. He’d left her place yesterday morning in such a hurry, not saying the half dozen things he had wanted to. It made him a fucking pansy.
Was she avoiding him because he had been an idiot? That was the most likely scenario. He never should have touched her. It was a mistake from the beginning. The moment she had gotten off the elevator at Underworld, he had lost his damn mind.
Then again, from the first meeting, he had been drawn to her. Moreover, he still wanted her. How fucked in the head did that make him? As a psychologist, he knew more than most how mental it sounded. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, for a submissive to collar and call his own.
Mainly, Ram avoided it not because he didn’t want it, but because he would have to show his scars—his missing left foot, for starters, and that was a big one. He never took his pants off at the club. There wasn’t a submissive present who knew about his disability. His buddies did, but they kept that tidbit to themselves.
And the one time he had gotten serious about a woman after the roadside bomb had killed his team and taken his foot, she had recoiled in horror. The look on Mindy’s face was still etched into his memory, as was the way she had left his home and their relationship.
That made Sadie different. She hadn’t even flinched but had turned her hazel gaze—full of compassion—his way. And he’d been an ass, not knowing how to handle it. He’d been prepared for callous disregard, not acceptance and concern.
Ram puttered around his office, waiting for Sadie to return his call and resisting the urge to call her again. Then he worried whether she was all right. Had she had another episode? Should he stop by her condo on the way back to his house? His kids would be fine for another hour. Today was a planned lazy day at their house.
His phone rang and Ram fumbled the receiver in his hurry to grab it.
“Dr. O’Malley.”
“How’s it hanging, Ram?”
“A little to the right these days. Quinten, what can I do for you? Shouldn’t you be catching crooks and robbers?” Quinten was a homicide detective with the New Orleans Police Department.
“I thought you might want to know that the tasty little treat you availed yourself of Saturday night just applied to become an elite member.”
She did what? “Sadie? She came to the club?”
“That she did, my friend.”
So that’s why she hadn’t answered his call, she’d been at the club. “Did she say anything about me?”
“What are we, in high school, dude?”
“No, I… shit.”
At Quinten’s deep laugh, Ram bristled. “Stop trying to get a rise of out me. Ass.”
“Ah, but it was working so brilliantly. I’m going to assume you want her off limits to anyone but you. For the time being, at least. I didn’t find anything on her background check or application that warranted disqualification. Unless you have something to add?”
Did Ram want that? Sadie off limits to the other Masters at Club Underworld? It was one of the rules they had established for every new female sub. The first one to claim her—and in this scenario it was Ram—the sub ‘belonged’ to them without collaring until the heat wore off, or the Master gave her to another for the night.
Jesus, he did. He wanted her so much that thought of having her bound before him once again made his dick twitch.
“I would appreciate it.” It would give him a chance to decide what he did want from Sadie. Because a single night with her had not nearly been enough.
“That’s too damn bad because I gotta say, she is quite the sweet piece with those eyes of hers, not to mention her ass. Just be glad it was me and not Dante or Michael who met her when she was trying to find a way up to the second floor. Those two would have already lured her up to their penthouse and would be availing themselves of her charms. Maybe I should have done the luring,” Quinten said with a regretful sigh.
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Uh-huh. You’re welcome. And you owe me.” Quinten disconnected the call.
Sadie, a member of Underworld? Oh, the possibilities. If Ram could overcome his bonehead move the other day…
Then again, he was leaving to take his kids back to Texas at the end of next week and would be in Dallas for a week, getting them ready for the school year. That meant his time at the club would be limited to most likely no way in hell for the next three weeks. If she was that gung-ho about joining the club, would he be able to convince her to wait until his responsibilities lessened?
Before he left the office, he called Sadie one more time. When it rolled over to voicemail again, his fury seethed. She was avoiding him, that much was perfectly obvious. And he was more than a little worried it had nothing to do with the fact he had been her therapist, and everything to do with his missing left foot.
Chapter 15
Ram was inherently aware of Sadie throughout the entire ninety-minute group session on Tuesday. She had selected a spot on the opposite side of the circle and had been avoiding eye contact, even when it was her turn to speak.
“Sadie, anything you would like to sh
are with the group today?” Ram asked, trying to make his voice sound light and impersonal when he was feeling anything but that.
She didn’t look at him. Was she that embarrassed and repulsed by him? Did she regret being with him? If that was the case, then why was she applying to become an elite member of Club Underworld? It did not make any sense. But Sadie smiled at the group. “I’m doing much better this week. I’ve made some positive changes that I’m not able to share with the group just yet. But they are much needed changes in my life. I’ve not had a single attack since the last big one. I know that’s not saying much, and it’s something I will have to keep working at. I know it’s a one day at a time sort of thing. But I’m feeling good, better than I have since the accident, and feel like I’m making some real progress.”
As Sadie finished, Ram was transfixed by the confidence and enthusiasm she displayed. How could he not be affected by her? She enthralled him. From the moment she’d walked into his office, he had been enamored by her heartbreaking sorrow and the underlying strength inherent in her being. But he was awed by the transformation and quite aroused by it, too. The Dom in him demanded he show every man in the room that she was his even though she wasn’t. But Christ, he wanted her to be. His gut clenched with the need to have her beneath him once more.
The room erupted, with everyone clapping at Sadie’s victories. Ram wondered what had put the glow back into her expression. Had it been their night together? The glow infused her entire being. She took his breath away.
“Thank you for sharing, Sadie.” He moved on to the last person in the group who had not shared that day.
“Great group, everyone. Sadie, if you would hang back a moment, I would like to speak with you privately.” He rose and stood beside the door frame. He said goodbye to the other group members, never once losing track of Sadie. Something told him that if he turned his back, she would hightail it out of there to avoid the coming discussion.
The wealth of her golden hair was pulled up in a ponytail, giving him a nice view of her slim neck. He imagined wrapping the length of her hair in his fist as he pounded into her hot little cunt from behind, her breathy gasps filling his ears. Through the cotton fabric of her mint green sundress that hugged her lithe form down to her hips, he could see the outline of her nipples.
At the door, she pegged him with a sarcastic glare. “Is this really necessary?”
He flexed his hand. She was asking for a spanking. He internally cursed up a blue streak. As he wasn’t her Dom, outside the club, he couldn’t touch her. Yet he ached for her.
“It is, and will only take a few moments of your time. Then you can get to wherever it is you are so in a hurry to get to. Come with me.” Ram gave her no chance to argue. With a hand on her lower back, he ushered her over to the elevator. She didn’t fight his touch. If anything, she looked at him with her big doe hazel eyes, a hint of confusion shrouded in their depths.
And when he looked close enough, he spied the hurt. He had hurt her the other day. Dammit. It was no wonder she didn’t want anything to do with him.
But he didn’t give her any room not to cooperate. When the elevator doors opened onto his floor, he escorted her down the hall to his office. What needed to be said between them would be done in private, without the chance of anyone overhearing.
After unlocking his office door, he propelled her inside and, with a nod toward one of the chairs by his desk, commanded, “Have a seat.”
The Dom in him, now that he had felt her surrender, wouldn’t back down.
Sadie hesitated at the chair, glancing down at it and then back at him. “Look, Ram—”
He cast her a stern stare, damn near chomping at the bit to go all Dom on her sweet behind for disobeying a direct, reasonable request. Not giving her any wiggle room, he dialed his expression to irritated Dom.
“This will only take a minute. Sit… please,” he conceded when her expression turned mulish. She debated, glancing at the door and back at him like she was trying to figure out if she could escape before he caught her. The little brat. And damn if his dick didn’t twitch at the thought of chasing her. Because he knew he would catch her, and then all bets would be off. He’d administer the spanking she so richly deserved.
Except, Sadie huffed and took a seat.
Ram leaned against his desk, staying close because of the flight risk she presented. “Look, I get that I overstepped conventional and ethical boundaries with you Saturday night. I don’t regret that night. And I hope that you don’t, either. I know I was an ass Sunday morning, and I hope you can forgive me for that. I didn’t mean to leave things so strained between us.” He left out the part where he wouldn’t be averse to another night with her—or more. “However, there’s no reason to blow off my phone calls like you did. I called in a favor with Marsha yesterday, which you ignored. She worked you into her schedule because I asked her to. And I don’t appreciate your callous disregard, nor having to apologize to a colleague because you chose to dismiss my calls.”
“I wasn’t blowing you off.”
He raised a brow and gave her a look to say, of course you did, and any other response would be you lying through your teeth.
She blushed, dropped her gaze and shifted in her seat, as if she was remembering the way her bottom had felt after his flogging. She protested. “Not exactly blowing you off. I was busy.”
“I know. Filling out applications to Club Underworld can take up a whole day,” Ram said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Her head shot up, but she masked the shock on her face relatively quickly and leaned back in her chair. “Quinten called you.”
“Did you think he wouldn’t? Sadie, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself, because I never should have touched you. I violated all ethical boundaries and for that, I apologize. But I still believe that therapy will help you. Luc isn’t going to let you go back to work until you are cleared by a psychologist. Please, not for me, but for yourself, set up a meeting with Marsha. If you’re that interested in the lifestyle, she would be a perfect person for you to talk to about it. She’s a club member and a submissive. Her Dom is one of our longest standing members, having joined shortly after we opened, and he’s on the force with Quinten.”
“I figured he would tell you. Just not this fast. And I’m not sure why it matters that I went to the club and applied. You’re the one who told me it was only for that one night. You made that clear Sunday morning.”
He caught the slight hitch in her voice.
Shit.
“Sadie.” He sighed. He had hurt her the other day and that had not been his intent. Ram had left out of a need for self-preservation because of his own failings and hang-ups. He didn’t do emotional entanglements well. It was rather ironic given his profession, but it was the truth. Almost everything he told his patients, he could apply to areas of his own life. He realized it made him a flaming hypocrite with no firm ground to stand on.
She gave a little half shrug. “Look, you don’t have to worry about me. I have an appointment with Marsha tomorrow. I already called her this morning and apologized for missing the one yesterday. I know Doctor Luc won’t let me go back to work. There’s a part of me that is beginning to wonder if work is part of the problem, if I need to take a more sedate position treating influenza and chickenpox in a family practice. And as for the club, Ram, Saturday night was the first time in more than two years that I felt like myself. I think, in fact I know, I need to learn more about submission. It’s like a part of me that I didn’t know existed has opened up and won’t be quiet any longer.”
Well, hell. When she put it that way…
Sadie looked up at him. “I trust you, Ram. But I need more than you can give me. You said one night. I get that you have your own needs, and I don’t even know if you have another submissive that you’ve claimed. While I don’t really want a man I’m not familiar with, if there is a Dom at the club you could suggest to train me, I would appreciate it. Perhaps you could introduce me.
Not Quinten, though, he seems far too authoritarian and I’m not sure we would gel well. Even though he is gorgeous in his rather stern way,” she said without rancor or guile.
Her earnestness was a kick in the gut. She truly believed that he didn’t want her past their one night together, when that was the farthest thing from the truth. Not want her? He was fighting the urge to touch her. The thought of giving another Dom the gift of her submission was a kick in the pants. Ram tautened his jaw and narrowed his gaze. Like hell would he recommend another Dom. Every possessive cell in his body demanded he claim what belonged to him. Yeah, he’d fucked up Sunday morning. But introduce her to another Dom so that he could feel her writhe in ecstasy beneath him? Screw that. He curled his hands around the wooden ledge of the desk to keep himself from acting like Kong and beating his chest. “Someone else? Like a referral? You want me to refer you to a Dom who will train you?”
One who would have an all access pass to her delectable body.
She nodded with an innocent calm written on her face. “Yes. I would appreciate it.”
He growled, “Like hell.”
There was no way he was giving her to Graham or Hudson or Killian. Hell, she worked with Luc. All he needed to think about to cause his every possessive instinct to surge to the forefront was his best buddies fucking the woman he was developing a thing for. She belonged to him. He blurted out with a low snarl, “Fine. For the next two weeks, I will train you.”
He hoped like hell that extra time with her would expunge her out of his system. That he could fuck the craving he felt to own her body and soul from his being. “But there is one stipulation: you go see Marsha like I have recommended, and you will not miss another session with her. I want dates and times of when you are meeting with her. I want status updates on your progress. That’s non-negotiable.” She thought Quinten was authoritarian? Ram would show her the true meaning of the word—and she would like it.