Doctor's Demands: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

by Michelle Love

  “So I’d remain just as secretive as you are?” she asks with a cute little grin.

  I nod and push open another door that leads to the foyer. One of the valets waits by the front door, and all I have to do is look at him, and he rushes off to get my car.

  Alone, we wait, and I run my hand through her dark, silky hair, then breathe in the aroma it’s released. “I love the shampoo they provide here. And your hair looks shiny and is soft. I should get some for you to take home. What kind of home do you live in?”

  “An apartment. A really crappy one. But I’ll move up as I get my career going.” She runs her hands through my hair too. “Oh, you’re right, it does make it soft and silky, and the smell is so unusual, yet actually stimulating to the nose. Don’t you think?”

  “It is.” I pull her to me and kiss her. “You make me happy. I don’t know when I’ve felt so relaxed. I wish like hell you’d stop holding out on me.”

  “What am I holding out on you?” she asks, as if she doesn’t know. “I give you everything you want and tell you of other things I could do for you.”

  “I want this to last longer.” I see the car pulling up and decide to leave this conversation for another time. “Let’s just go enjoy our day, and I won’t talk about that anymore.”

  “Okay, sir,” she says with an obedience that seems to come naturally to her.

  She slips into the Maserati and looks at home in it. She’s ogling the extraordinarily luxurious interior but not acting like a fool about it, the way a lot of young women do. “Do you like my car?”

  “I do.” She looks up at me before I close the door. “This one’s just a rental, though.”

  I nod and close the door. She’s smart, clever, sweet, and naughty as hell. How did I get so damn lucky?

  Getting into the driver’s seat, I pull away from the club’s entrance. “Okay, the club’s behind us for today. I’m Owen, you’re Petra, and we’re just a nice, normal couple. Okay, baby?” I reach over and take her hand, resting our clasped hands between us.

  “Normal. Got it.” She smiles at me, then looks out the window. “It was dark when we came in. I haven’t seen a thing around here.”

  “We?” I ask with curiosity.

  “My friend, Leticia, was the one who told me about this place, the auction, and about what would be expected of me. She trained me. And we rode into Portland on the plane together. We’ll be going home together too.” She gazes out the window. “It’s prettier here in Portland than it is in Ohio.”

  The idea of her going home with anyone other than me makes my skin prickle. “It is nice here. I have a home in Malibu.”

  She looks at me with a grin. “I know that, Owen. Your business is all over the place. You have a home on the beach in Malibu, where you’ve entertained many a young actress and model, if I recall it all correctly. And you have a monstrous cabin in Big Bear. Another place where you’ve entertained young, beautiful women.”

  “So?” I ask her, as I’m not sure what she’s getting at.

  “So, you will continue to do such things.” She looks back out the window, as if our little conversation is over with her final words.

  “And that bothers you?” I pull into a little café and park.

  “Only if we were to continue things.” She reaches for the handle.

  “Don’t you dare,” I caution her.

  She stops and looks at me with wide eyes. “Don’t I dare do what?”

  “Open that door yourself. Allow me to get that, my little princess.” I get out and go to open her door.

  She’s grinning at me and holds out her hand for me to take. “My gentleman is on point this morning.”

  Kissing the top of her hand, I say, “I am. And my lady is going to be treated as such. Maybe tonight I might treat you like a naughty schoolgirl. But for today, you are mine to cherish.”

  She leans into my side as we head toward the glass fronted building. “You’re fun, Owen.”

  “Thank you.” I kiss the side of her head. “You’re sweet.”

  “You have no idea how lucky I feel to have been won by you.”

  “Shhh, don’t talk that way in public, baby. My biggest fear is being found out. But you know that, don’t you?” I ask her as I open the door.

  She nods and goes inside before me. Then she reaches back to take my hand. “I do. I’m sorry. I’ll be normal now.”

  We sit in a booth, right next to one another, and the waitress comes to us, dropping a couple of menus on the table. “What’ll you two be drinking this fine morning?”

  Petra looks at me. “You pick for me.”

  “Two coffees and waters to go with those.”

  The look on the waitress’ old and wrinkled face concerns me as she eyes me, then says, “Dr. Cantrell, from Beverly Hills Reconstructions?”

  Well, fuck!

  Petra

  Owen looks like a deer in headlights, so I hurry to help him by saying, “Haha! Not again, baby.” Shaking my head, I look at the waitress. “My husband, Roger, gets this all the time. He does resemble the handsome doc from television, but he’s no surgeon. He owns a construction company in Boise, Idaho. But I do have myself a nice-looking man, don’t I?”

  The old woman doesn’t even blink as she stares Owen down. “And he sounds like him too. I’m a religious watcher, saving up my pennies to get a facelift. I was once Miss Portland, and I’d like to get back at least some of my former beauty.”

  “Cigarettes, huh?” Owen asks.

  I look at him with squinted eyes, hoping he’ll realize he’s giving himself away with his spot-on question. “Baby, don’t be rude!”

  “He’s right. I do smoke.” Her eyes narrow at Owen and I feel him fidgeting beside me.

  “Well, dang, ma’am,” Owen says with a very phony southern accent. “I’s just tryin’ to be helpful. My granny smoked something awful, and she lost her looks too. Keep saving them there pennies, and you can get fixed right up, I betchya. Can we have our drinks?”

  Looking over her shoulder, she finds the man at the cash register giving her the stink-eye and nods, then hurries away. I try my hardest not to burst into laughter but fail and have to bury my face in Owen’s shoulder to keep the noise from traveling through the busy café. “Damn, baby!”

  He’s smiling up a storm and looking at me with lights in his eyes, then he kisses my lips quickly. “You’re one smart little wife there, pumpkin-butt.”

  Blushing with the after effects of him calling me his wife, I mumble, “Someone had to say something. You froze up and looked like you had no idea what the hell to say. I bet you had that same look on your face when I said your name that night.” I tweak his nose, and he wrinkles it.

  “I might’ve. I didn’t realize I looked so paralyzed. But I was. Thanks for saving me.” He kisses me again and grabs my knee under the table.

  The woman comes back with our drinks and looks directly at me. “I didn’t notice any wedding rings.” She places the cups on the table and dares me to say a word.

  Owen chuckles. “We came here to rekindle our spark, ma’am. We left the rings home, along with our young’uns, Billy Ray and Bobby Sue. We’re pretending to be dating, instead of the married couple we are.”

  “Hmmm,” she mumbles, then walks away.

  Owen leans in close and whispers, “Think she’s buying this at all?”

  “Not sure, but you’re going to have to use that hillbilly accent on me later. I think it’s so sexy.” I giggle, and he chuckles.

  “You got it, ma’am.”

  With the waitress, fast approaching, I say, “Let me order. You should stop talking. She’s already got her eagle ears on.”

  “Eyes,” he says.

  “What?”

  “Eagle eyes, not ears. I think you mean elephant ears. They have big ears. I’ve never even seen an eagle’s ears. Have you?” he asks, then looks up as the waitress is looking at him.

  “So, no goofy accent when you whisper, Dr. Cantrell?” she asks with he
r hands on her hips.

  “Doris!” the man behind the register shouts at her, then wiggles his finger for her to come to him.

  She leaves us, and I say, “Looks like she’s going to be in trouble.”

  Owen nods and makes a lopsided grin. “If I get found out, for some reason, then I’m saying that you’re my girlfriend. We met online when you were asking some questions about plastic surgery. You wanted, oh, let’s say a breast reduction. Got it?”

  “Do I need one?” I ask as I look down at my big boobs.

  “No, it’s just what we’ll say. You asked a question on Twitter. And I answered it. You gave me your cell number, I called it and liked the sound of your voice. Then we made arrangements to meet in Portland.”

  “And why would we meet in this city?” I ask, as I can see he’s thought this out, I suppose to tell everyone some false story about how we met. If I was to go along with his plan.

  “I always come here for summer vacations. To see family.”

  “Oh, you have family here?” I ask, as another waitress comes toward us. “Oh, let me order. I don’t want her to hear your voice. What do you want?”

  “Anything you order will work for me,” he says, then gets quiet as she approaches the table.

  “Have you two decided what you’d like for breakfast?”

  “We’ll both have the same thing. That breakfast plate with two pancakes, two eggs, both scrambled, and bacon,” I say and put the menu back down on the table.

  “Toast or biscuits?” she asks.

  “Biscuits,” I say. Then she nods and walks away.

  His eyes move over me as he looks me up and down. “I like everything you ordered. It’s like you know me or something. And you couldn’t have gotten that off anything that’s been written or said about me. I never order food like that in L.A.”

  “I know,” I say as I run my hand over his bearded cheek. “You eat healthy at all times, as far as anyone knows. But I knew you liked yummier foods.”

  “You’re going to make me fat,” he says with a smile, then twirls my hair in his fingers.

  “Nah, I’ll make sure you get plenty of exercise to burn those calories. Why not splurge? And why not eat something Dr. Cantrell would never eat?”

  “So damn smart. How is it that you can be everything that’s so attractive in a person, Petra? You’re like a perfect little angel. It’s hard to believe that you’re real.” He pokes me in the shoulder, as if to check if I am.

  “You seem to be enamored with me,” I whisper as he leans in.

  “That’s only because I am,” he says, then kisses me.

  My heart pounds as our lips barely touch. Wet heat pools between my legs and I can’t breathe. Could he be falling for me?

  We stare into each other’s eyes as the waitress comes back with our food much too quickly. “Here we go.”

  Reluctantly, he and I turn away from each other, and I start to wonder just how much sightseeing we’ll do today. The sexual tension is thick this morning!

  “Thank you,” I tell the waitress, then dig in, cutting into the short stack of pancakes that Owen has already poured syrup over.

  “Eat up, baby. I think we should go back to my hotel first.”

  Cutting my eyes at him, I ask like I have no idea, “Why? Did you forget something?”

  He leans in to say quietly, “Yeah, I forgot to satisfy my craving for you.”

  My body heats, but I shake my head. “Naughty, naughty. So, you have family here, you said. Have you seen them yet?”

  “I don’t have any family here. I just say that. Both sets of my grandparents have passed away. Probably from complete disappointment in their children.” He puts some grape jelly on his biscuit and holds it to my lips. “Taste this.”

  I take a bite and nod. “It’s good. The biscuit’s fluffy.”

  “It’s been forever since anything other than low-carb wheat bread has passed through my lips. Should I take the bite?” he asks me.

  “You only live once.”

  He takes the bite and moans. “So good …” After he swallows, he takes a drink of his coffee. “Oh, you and I have to work this off me today. Do you work out?”

  “No, I’m allergic to exercise,” I say, then eat a piece of bacon.

  “How the fuck do you stay in such great shape, eating like this and not exercising?” He looks me up and down again, as if that’s impossible.

  “Um,” I mumble, as I think about why that might be. “Well, my mother is slim. And I’m young. Maybe that’s why. I don’t know. I’ve always eaten whatever I wanted, and I’m not exactly a couch potato, but I don’t have any kind of exercise schedule. I do walk a lot. But not without somewhere I’m going.”

  “Naturally fit and trim,” he says, and looks kind of envious. “I was a chunky kid.”

  “I know,” I tell him, as I’ve seen tons of pictures of him before he became the hot man he is today. “I’m sorry you have to work so hard for your hot body, but you’ve done a great job.”

  He runs his hand over his dark blue T-shirt as he flexes his pecs. “Thanks. It was hard work and it’s not easy to maintain it. But it’s a passion I have. I do love the workouts. And even though you’re already fit, I’d love it if you’d join me today at the gym in the hotel.”

  “Then I’ll do it. For you, I will do anything.”

  His eyes droop at the far corners. “Only because of our current deal.”

  His sad words hurt my heart, and I touch his cheek to get him to look into my eyes. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that anymore today. For now, I will do anything and everything you want. And, just for the record, I love doing it all.”

  He nods and finishes his food. “Salads for lunch. I can’t go too far off my normal diet.”

  “Salads it is,” I say, and finished my plate of yummy food.

  After he pays and we leave, he wraps his arm around me, pulling me close and kissing my cheek. “How can going out to breakfast with you be something so damn fun?”

  “I guess because I’m a ball to be around.” I laugh as he picks me up and takes me to his car.

  “You are a ball to be around!” He puts me in the driver’s seat, and I’m surprised. “You drive. I have to see if you’re good at everything.”

  “Um, Owen, I don’t think I should be driving this car. It’s expensive, and it’s rented, and I’ve never driven anything that cost over five thousand dollars.”

  His eyebrows wiggle as he says, “Nervous? Or chicken?”

  “Get in,” I say, as I stiffen my jaw and prepare to drive a car that’s worth more than I am.

  He slips into the passenger side. “I’m freaking stuffed. Go easy on me, Petra. I don’t want to blow chunks in here.”

  “Then maybe you should be driving.” I put it into drive, and off we go. The car has a ton of power, and I spin the wheels as I barely press the gas pedal. “Fuck!”

  “Whoa, easy there,” he says with a laugh. “This car has a lot of power, as would any car I give you. You need to be easy with it.”

  Using my big toe, I ease down on the gas pedal, and we move out of the parking lot without a sound or smell of rubber burning the pavement. “Did I turn the right way to go wherever we’re going?”

  “My hotel is the other direction. But you can head this way if you want. Maybe we shouldn’t give into our physical wants every damn time we have them. If we do, we’ll never get out of bed. How about we find a park and take a walk? I’ll find us one. Or do you want me to take you to the hotel and make passionate love to you before we do that?”

  “I kind of do want that, but I think you’re right. Let’s do some other stuff today. That way tonight, we can get buck wild, You know?”

  With a nod, we’re in agreement. It’s so easy to get along with him. I just wish things weren’t so damn complicated!

  Owen

  The sun filters through her dark hair, showing just how many colors run through it. We lie back on the cool green grass after a vig
orous walk through the park.

  Petra thinks she doesn’t exercise, but her pace when she walks is phenomenal!

  I’m out of breath, partly from the walk, the giant calorie-ridden breakfast, and being with her. I turn on my side and look down at her as she’s laid out on her back, still breathing hard. Her face is glowing with perspiration and she’s never looked more beautiful.

  “Petra, I want more. I don’t care about all the rest. I want you with me. Like all the time, I want you with me.” I lean down and kiss her sweet lips.

  She runs her hands around my neck and holds me. Our tongues mingle and dance. Then I ease the kiss and just look at her. She’s gorgeous and all I can think about is keeping her with me.

  “I have to go back to school.”

  “You’re rich now. You don’t even have to work if you don’t want to.”

  Shaking her head, she lets me know, “I want to be a school teacher. It’s been a dream of mine since I was little. I couldn’t read as well as the other kids in my class. I was left behind in first grade, while all of my friends moved on, I stayed in Mrs. Hamilton’s class. And I still couldn’t read.”

  “Your mother should’ve had you moved to another class,” I say, as I feel bad for her.

  “She finally did. I went to Mr. Scar’s classroom. I was so afraid to be in his class. His name alone was frightening. It was Scarborough, but no little kid could say that, so his name to all of us was Mr. Scar.”

  “Was he mean looking?” I ask, as I put myself in her shoes.

  With a nod, she confirms my suspicions. “He was ten feet tall and had a long white beard. His eyes were black as night, and he smelled like ham.”

  “How awful,” I tease her, then tickle her ribs a little. “I bet he wasn’t that bad at all.”

  “Well, that’s how I thought of him before I was placed in his classroom. In there, I found out that he was of normal height, five-eight.”

  “That’s short for a man,” I comment.

  “Yes, it is. And he didn’t have black eyes. He had brown ones, and they looked kind when I finally took a look at them. His beard wasn’t even white. It was the same color as his brown hair, and he kept it neatly trimmed. And he taught me how to read in record time. He also instilled in me the passion to teach little kids. That’s why I’m going to be a kindergarten through fifth-grade teacher. I want to help young children blossom.”