Submitting to the Doctor (Cowboy Doms Book 7)

by BJ Wane

  “Bad enough since her injuries were caused by her ex. At least she walked away and wasn’t making excuses for him. That was a refreshing change from the cases that came into the hospital back home.” And was just one of Lillian’s admirable traits that kept him thinking about her. “Where’s Leslie? I’m surprised you let her out of your sight. Aren’t you still driving her into school every day?”

  “After I kept her bound on the fucking swing for an hour, I thought she could use a long soak in the hot tub with Kelsey. And yes, I’m taking her into work despite her arguments every morning. It’s going to take me longer to get over the scare of almost losing her than it has her.” Kurt shifted his black gaze out the back glass sliding door where they could both make out the girls’ heads and bobbing breasts above the rim of the bubbling spa.

  Mitchell reached out and squeezed Kurt’s shoulder. Fear of losing that one person who completes you is something he could sympathize with. The heart-shattering pain of those first months following Abbie’s death might have eased into a dull ache after two years, but he would never stop missing her, or what they had together. Lillian’s grief-stricken face as she’d stood in the yellow/orange glow of the blazing fire popped into his head, followed by her bright eyes lit with humor as she wiggled on his lap. His abdomen cramped, as if thinking about Lillian betrayed his wife’s memory.

  Gritting his teeth, he replied, “Yeah, I get that,” before changing the subject. “I was proud of your dad for working so hard while you and Leslie spent most of her semester break with her sister in Canada. I never expected him to recover to such a degree following his stroke. His determination, when he finally got around to applying himself, really paid off.”

  “I’m proud of him too, but let’s get back to discussing this redhead I’ve heard about. Did you really offer her your garage apartment?”

  Mitchell couldn’t fault Kurt for the disbelief coloring his tone. The simple gesture of letting Lillian use the room above the garage was the first time he’d reached out to anyone in the last eight months of living in Willow Springs. He’d met Kurt when he’d become Leland Wilcox’s doctor following the older man’s stroke. Through him, he’d become acquainted with the owners of The Barn and its members. He enjoyed the new friendships and the weekend nights he spent with willing partners who desired dominant sexual control, but had refrained from expanding on any relationship outside the renovated barn’s walls beyond a casual dinner at the diner once in a while.

  He’d found it harder to move on by starting over in a new place, with a new, less stressful job than he’d imagined. And then he’d met Lillian, who was the complete opposite of what he always looked for in a suitable sexual partner.

  “Yes,” he finally answered, twirling the amber liquor in his glass. “That space has sat empty since I bought the place. It didn’t make sense to let her pay for a much smaller motel room for weeks when she could stay there. Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he warned his friend. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like I invited her to move in with me.”

  “And yet you haven’t been here the last two weekends and there you sit, disappointing the subs you’ve turned away the last two hours,” Kurt drawled as Grayson, who was bartending, strolled up from behind the mahogany bar top.

  Plunking down a cold brew in front of Kurt, the sheriff pinned Mitchell with his gray/green gaze. “We hear enough complaints from them about the dwindling number of uncommitted Doms to see to their needs without you turning them away.”

  Last Saturday, after seeing Lillian again, he’d returned home for a quiet night contemplating his stupidity in inviting her to stay on his property after he’d sworn he was glad when Grayson had taken her off his hands. The woman had played havoc with his emotions and his intentions since he’d first clapped eyes on her bruised, defiant face. He didn’t have a reason for turning away the subs that had approached him in the last two hours other than he refused to do a scene with one of them when his mind was on someone else.

  “There are still several single members to take care of their needs.” Sipping his whiskey, a strident yelp drew his gaze to the occupied spanking bench on the other side of the bar and the bright red ass trying to shift away from the descending paddle. He recalled Lillian’s cushiony cheeks turning pink under his hand, the way she went from struggling to staying put to lifting for the next swat, and his cock stirred for the first time that night.

  He cut his eyes back to his friends. “Besides, the night isn’t over, now is it?”

  Kurt held up a placating hand. “Okay, don’t get pissed. On a different note, will you be at Caden’s Friday night for their chili dinner? I know he’s already talked to you about it.”

  “Yes, I told him to plan on me.” He smiled at the surprise reflected on both men’s faces. It wasn’t the first time Mitchell had been invited to a social gathering outside of the club by one of its owners or members, but it was the first one he had accepted. He looked forward to attending, which gave him hope he was working his way past mourning and into acceptance. Tossing back the last swallow of his drink, he nodded toward the back doors where Avery joined Leslie and Kelsey as they came in. “I think your subs need your attention more than my personal life does.”

  Grayson held out his hand to Avery as she stepped behind the bar, her short, silky sheath clinging to her plump, unfettered breasts and rounded stomach. “They’re more fun to torment, that’s for sure.” With his free hand, he reached up and tweaked a distended nipple before resting his palm on her baby bump.

  “Master Mitchell, it’s good to see you again.” Leslie’s blue eyes lit with pleasure as she leaned against Kurt, her damp red camisole and satin boy shorts adhering to her damp curves and drawing his eyes to her long slender legs.

  “You too, Leslie. And what’s this?” Mitchell lifted a brow as he picked up the blonde’s left hand and eyed the large diamond adorning her ring finger. “I didn’t know congratulations were in order.” A pang gripped him as he wondered if he’d kept himself so aloof his closest friend hadn’t thought to inform him of his engagement.

  “No one did until tonight. Sorry, Mitchell. You arrived after our big announcement and there hasn’t been a chance to bring it up.” Kurt sent Leslie a possessive look of love as he slid a hand down the back of her shorts. Both her and Avery’s faces glowed in pleasure of their Dom’s touch. Mitchell worked to school his features to hide the spasm of emotional pain his friend’s good fortune generated.

  Cupping Leslie’s face, he kissed her before holding out his hand to Kurt. “Congratulations.” He tugged on her long hair with a grin. “You’ve reeled in a good one.”

  “And Kelsey just accepted Devin and Greg’s proposal,” Avery announced, drawing their attention to the threesome making their way up the stairs to the loft. Devin held the petite sub they shared over his shoulder and she lifted her dangling, white-haired head to finger wave at them, her ring sparkling from across the space.

  “Just so long as it’s not a requirement I didn’t know about, I’m happy for all of you,” Mitchell stated as the memories of his one chance at such happiness played through his head. When the two scenes he’d indulged in with Lillian intruded and kept him from hooking up with anyone before leaving The Barn an hour later, he drove home wondering how he would put her aside like the others with her staying so close.

  Salt Lake City

  Bryan stood beside Brad’s hospital bed, gazing down at his brother’s pale face and bandaged head. Damn stubborn fool. His hands fisted as he imagined what would have happened if Brad hadn’t finally realized he wasn’t immune to serious injury and gotten help for what turned out to be a slow brain bleed. Just the sound of it scared Bryan all over again. According to the surgeon who performed the operation a few hours ago, his brother would recover but would require a combination of therapy and drug treatment.

  Knowing how close he had come to losing his only sibling, Bryan wasn’t in the mood to let the person responsible get by with what she�
�d done any longer. Brad wouldn’t like it, but he planned to go after Lillian Gillespie and bring her back to face a charge of attempted murder. He had no doubt he could make that charge stick if he got hold of and destroyed the pictures she claimed to have of bruises Brad had put on her. He was sure the woman deserved every one given her jealous behavior and the jeopardy she’d put Brad’s life in.

  Reaching down, he squeezed Brad’s shoulder. “I’ll be back. Trust me to make this right.”

  Bryan lit up as soon as he reached the hospital parking lot. He should quit, if for no other reason than to make his brother happy. Brad had been harping on him to get help to kick his chain-smoking habit since the day he started medical school. The truth was, Bryan not only craved the addictive nicotine rush, but he liked smoking. It gave him something to do with his hands and calmed him as he dealt with the stress of his job. Working Vice put him in contact with a lot of scum and as far as negative ways to cope, walking around with a lit cigarette in his hand so he could relish the burn of pungent smoke filling his lungs whenever he wanted wasn’t near as bad as the lines his cop friends crossed. At least he hadn’t sunk so low as to accept a bribe or line his pockets from a bust before turning in evidence.

  As Bryan drove away from the hospital and his suffering brother, he realized what he was planning would cross over those lines he’d been so proud of avoiding since making detective ten years ago. Tracking down Lillian’s whereabouts by tracing her finances would be on the up and up using resources at the precinct, but he didn’t doubt ridding her of those pictures would require breaking a few laws. As he recalled Brad’s slurred speech, loss of physical coordination and almost daily nausea that had laid him low since she’d attacked him, he didn’t feel in the least guilty for what he planned to do.

  Getting retribution for the pain and suffering she’d caused his little brother was all that concerned Bryan right now, that and Brad gaining full recovery of his life and health.

  Chapter 7

  Lillian kept the 9:00 a.m. appointment at the clinic Monday morning, swearing that wasn’t disappointment tugging at her when another doctor called her in to tell her the x-rays a tech had taken were clear. After checking her for lingering tenderness and giving her instructions not to overdo for another week, she walked out of the clinic promising herself not to give Mitchell another thought. The man was good at giving her orgasms and irritating her, and that was it.

  Unlike most years in Utah, March was not rolling in like a lion here in Montana. This week’s temperatures were expected to reach the lower fifties, prompting Lillian to zip up her coat and walk the one block over to the town square as she left the clinic. It was still cold enough her breath blew out in white puffs, but the bright mid-morning sun was already warm enough to make the air tolerable.

  The walk helped calm her irrational disgruntlement over not getting Mitchell’s personal attention at the clinic. He never said the appointment would be with him, she admitted, and since he annoyed her when he wasn’t touching her naked body, she couldn’t understand why her mood had taken a nose-dive after he’d pawned her off on his colleague.

  Coming around the corner into the square, Lillian stopped in her tracks upon seeing a large moose with broad antlers meandering across the cobblestone courtyard as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Even several feet away, the animal’s size was intimidating. As she stood there pondering the safety of going around the buck, Gertie stepped out of the diner and moved in front of her.

  “Just stand still, girl. They’re harmless, for the most part, but if startled, they can move fast and attack. Big son-of-a-bitch, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, and he doesn’t look to be in a hurry to leave here. The one that ran out in front of me a few weeks ago was smaller and didn’t have those antlers, yet still managed to scare the crap out of me.”

  Gertie snorted. “City girl. That would have been a female. This guy might linger for a while. May as well come in for a cup of coffee and piece of pie. All I have is chocolate cream.”

  She opened the door and went back inside the diner, expecting, Lillian was sure, for her to follow. Who needed Mitchell’s friendship when people like Gertie were so nice to her? A giggle worked its way up her throat as she entered the restaurant imagining the gruff woman’s reaction if someone called her nice. She stayed for an hour, eating pie and talking to friendly patrons who took the time to chat for a few minutes, before strolling down to the library after the moose finally lumbered off. Willa greeted her with a wave and held up a book as Lillian approached the counter.

  “I saved this back for you, figuring you would be in soon. It’s a new release I think you’ll like if you don’t already have it.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t and I saw this advertised. Thank you so much.” She pulled the book she finished from her bag and traded it for the new thriller, the librarian’s consideration warming her as much as Gertie’s brusque invitation for coffee and pie.

  Leaving the library, Lillian veered toward Nan’s teashop and ran right into Grayson Monroe as he exited the city building. “Oops, sorry, Sheriff,” she apologized, stepping back. She only got a glimpse of his eyes from under his lowered Stetson, but it was enough to see the same probing intensity Mitchell would look at her with that always put her on guard. Or maybe it was the size of the men in Montana that caused her to take notice with more interest than she’d ever bestowed toward anyone back home.

  “Lillian. You look better than the last time I saw you.”

  “I feel much better,” she returned, relaxing. “I’ve met Avery. Your first?”

  He nudged his hat back and smiled around the toothpick. “Yes, a girl.” He looked around at the parked cars. “Where are you parked?”

  “I walked over from the clinic. I’m headed to the teashop now, so I won’t keep you.” She made to go around him but he reached out and touched her arm, a hard glint entering his eyes.

  “If you give me his name, I can contact the authorities in Salt Lake City, make sure he won’t come after you.”

  Lillian thought of Bryan, Brad’s cop brother, and how he’d covered for Brad’s bad behavior, doubting anyone Grayson talked to would take him seriously. As long as she kept hold of those pictures, she didn’t worry about Brad trying to track her down. “Thank you but that’s not necessary. He’s not a problem anymore. Have a good day, Sheriff.”

  “You too.”

  Awareness of his eyes following her all the way to the teashop rippled down her spine, but instead of getting under her skin, the same pleasant rush she’d experienced with Gertie and Willa’s thoughtfulness washed through her. An older man she didn’t recognize waved to her from across the courtyard as she reached Nan’s teashop. She returned the friendly gesture thinking Liana would have liked this small town. Her sister had been more of a homebody than Lillian, preferring takeout and movie rentals to dining in public or going to a theater. But she could see her enjoying the laid-back atmosphere and people at Dale’s Diner and spending an evening at the small cinema housed in what appeared to be the original, decades old theater. With a tight clutch around her heart, she remembered how Liana would compromise whenever Lillian insisted they try a new place to eat or view a certain film on the big screen. Their mother always said Liana was much better at give and take than Lillian.

  God, I miss you, sis. Sucking in a deep breath to ward off the encroaching melancholy, she stuck her head inside the teashop, spotting Nan wiping down the table closest to the door.

  “Hi there. I just wanted to accept that offer of a ride out to the barbeque, if you’re sure they want me.”

  Nan nodded without hesitation as she lifted the small tray holding empty cups and plates. “I’m sure. Sydney called first thing this morning double checking the head count and is looking forward to meeting you. Do you have time to come in?”

  “No, sorry. I’ve been out all morning and want to paint while the sun is still coming through the window at the apartment.”

  “Catch you late
r then.”

  Much to Lillian’s annoyance, Mitchell’s bothersome step back from doctoring her himself wasn’t enough to deter her from continuing to watch for him first thing in the mornings over the next few days. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t stop thinking about the ‘lesson’ he’d heaped upon her butt or prevent the memory of her response to those slaps from becoming fantasies flitting through her mind as her traitorous body heated eyeing his tall, loose-limbed stride out to his vehicle. By Friday, she was forced to admit she lusted after the damn man despite his dominant nature going against everything she’d ever thought she wanted, or didn’t want, in a man.

  Maybe it’s time to move on, she considered as she saw an SUV pull into the drive and disappointment gripped her throat when she realized it wasn’t Mitchell but Nan’s husband arriving to pick Lillian up. She wondered if Mitchell would be at the Dunbar’s tonight, was working late or had gone to his club without coming home first, and then wanted to kick herself for thinking about him. Gratitude for being there for me that night at his cabin, that’s all this obsession is. That’s what she’d been telling herself lately, disregarding the thirty minutes he had tormented her over his lap a week ago and she’d exploded from the pain-driven pleasure.

  Snatching her coat, she skipped down the stairs, looking forward to the evening.

  Twenty minutes later, Dan parked behind a row of several other vehicles in the circular drive in front of a sprawling ranch home and Lillian got her first look at a working ranch. A herd of black cattle foraged for dried grass in the pasture behind the barns and beyond them, the Dunbar land stretched as far as the eye could see. Snow still blanketed over half of the prairie and the artist in her craved to see the landscape strewn with spring foliage.

  The ride down the long narrow road leading up to the house and other structures was a lot bumpier than the snow-cleared highway they’d taken when leaving Willow Springs. Lillian slid out of the back seat with the urge to rub her butt, but considering what she’d heard about the men she was about to meet, not to mention Nan’s husband, she didn’t think that was a good idea.