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She dropped her attention to his hand, resting on the table. But looking away from his steady gaze wasn’t going to be enough to give her the courage to do this. “Is it okay for me to close my eyes?”
“Yeah. This time.” Before she did, he unwrapped a chocolate heart and handed it to her. Her reward.
With a half smile, she shut her eyes. As she let her mind drift, she brought the chocolate up to her nose and inhaled before putting the candy on her tongue. He waited for her, letting her take that time. When it melted down her throat, she was ready.
“You’re in my room with me. I’m lying on the bed. You tell me not to move. You’re kissing me all over, but I have to stay still, or you’ll stop. It becomes more difficult, and I want to squirm. But you get this stern look that makes me…like your look did last night.”
As she spoke, it became a little easier. As if she’d been waiting to tell him something exactly like this. With what he’d said about being a Dom, it felt right to tell him.
The pressure of his thumb against her wrist, the way he held her with a hint of male urgency, told her he wasn’t unaffected. Sharing that arousal, that simmering tension between them, made her reveal what she hadn’t expected.
“Because I won’t stop squirming, you spank me.”
“I turn you over and spank your ass?” The mild way he said it made her mouth dry. He’d said honesty, but…
She lifted a shoulder, an agreement but not really.
“Les. What did I say my single expectation was?”
“Does saying I’m too embarrassed to answer the question meet the expectation?”
“Yes. Long as it’s honest.”
She opened her eyes. “But because I sort of lied first, it’s going on that list, isn’t it?”
The wicked look in his gaze told her he liked adding to that list. “In your fantasy, I told you to spread your legs, hold them open without moving, and I spanked your cunt with my open hand. Didn’t I?”
Moisture flooded that part of her body. He brushed his mouth over her trembling, quivering lips. “Answer me, Les.”
“Y-yes.” Her toes curled against his ankle, where she’d rested her bare foot on top of his shoe.
“Hmm.” With his hand still on hers, he leaned back and fished out one more purple foil-wrapped bite and put it in her hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “Good. Make your calls.”
Chapter Nine
He’d told her if she was still on the phone when he finished cleaning the kitchen, he’d go work out in the utility room next to the kitchen. He also refused her offer to help wash dishes as the procrastination tactic it clearly was. When she dragged her feet, he picked up a slotted metal spatula and twirled it with a threatening flourish.
“This hurts a lot worse than a brush,” he informed her.
Her reaction was the opposite of what an intelligent person’s would be, given his size and the power in his arm. Regardless, she made herself go into the living room and sit on the sofa with her phone.
The first voicemail she checked was from her advisor, Dr. Leanne Portland. Her tone was brisk as she dealt with school matters first. The M&M, Mortality and Morbidity conference, was set for mid-next week. Les was expected to attend. Dr. Portland asked for confirmation, via text or phone. “As far as where you are in the program, your patients have been re-assigned. We’ll get you back in the flow after the conference. Study for your ER rotation exam. Dr. Redmond said you’d covered enough clinical work to be ready for it, especially with your diligent study habits.”
She’d been routinely praised for her attention to detail, the questions she asked on rounds. Dr. Jack had told her she operated with a fourth year’s maturity.
She wondered what they all thought of her now.
Dr. Portland concluded the message with a marginally warmer tone. “Take a few days, Les. Get your mind off it. You’ll remember things better. Write them down when you’re ready. That will help you prepare for questions at the conference. If you haven’t already, be sure to call the hospital’s legal department. Martin Sully wants to speak to you.”
…help you prepare for questions at the conference…
Though her fingers trembled, and she wasn’t sure if it was true, Les texted she would be at the M&M. She unraveled her French braid and ran her fingers through her hair several times before moving on to the next voicemail.
“Les, I’m Martin Sully with the hospital’s legal department.” He had a firm, smooth voice. “Call me as soon as you receive this. Talk to me before you discuss the details of the incident with anyone, and that includes your advisor, friends or any other personnel involved.”
As she dialed his number, she tapped her thigh with nervous fingers. She nursed a hope he wouldn’t be there, though when he picked up, she guessed it was probably a relief that he was. The worst part of an axe falling was waiting for it.
“Martin Sully.”
