He hugged her tight again.
Quinn turned Cheyenne back to him and continued, “All of this,” he waved the air indicating the playroom, “it’s who I am and who you are. We have this dynamic in our lives. I don’t spank or chastise you in front of people who would not understand and, therefore, bring you as little shame and embarrassment as I can. You know we’ve talked about why I don’t publicly scene often, I want to be the only one who looks on you that way. But sometimes…”
She nodded finishing his sentence, “Sometimes, I push the issue. I want you to possess me and others to know.”
Quinn returned to the real issue. “You were bullied by an old school doctor who probably would never have said those things if your mom had been in the room. What it seems might have happened is that you got scared during those few moments alone, and he made you feel ashamed because of it. You carried that all these years. From now on, we face our fears together, if we can, and you did it today. I’m proud of you. As to the reason I don’t satisfy you fully before we are married, I have explained.” Quinn gave her a scolding look.
“I know, I just don’t like your reasoning. I do feel better about the doctor’s office. I’m not ready to go for routine things, but emergencies, maybe.”
Cheyenne glanced over to Dr. Taylor, who smiled and watched like a spectator. “It will come in time, I’m sure.”
“I’m sorry you had that experience with the doctor when you were so young. Is that why you don’t like to go now? Because when you are there alone, it triggers those same feelings of fear and vulnerability?”
“No, I mean, yes, a nurse is there now but only if I’m examined like a check-up. Otherwise, I’m alone.” She examined her nails nervously. “I would be mortified to ask for someone to be there with me for the little things like I didn’t trust the doctor.” She looked at Quinn, her Daddy Dom for the evening, hoping he understood her.
“Why not get a female doctor?” asked Dr. Taylor.
She shrugged again. “Don’t laugh. I don’t like women being the one in authority over me. A doctor can tell me what to do.”
Quinn made a sound that Cheyenne knew all too well meant he would revisit the subject again later.
“May I offer a solution?” asked Doctor Carter seemingly oblivious to the exchanged look. Two set of eyes landed on him, waiting for his solution.
“I think that you’re going to like this, Miss Cheyenne. May I offer to be your doctor? That way, if you need Quinn to be your fiancé/husband, then he is. If you require your Dom or your Daddy, I’m great with that as well.”
“Yes,” said Quinn, “if you like that solution, I’m happy with it.”
“Well, it sounds all fine and good but Dr. Taylor, you’re a dom. I mean, a real, spank ‘em when they need it, dom. I’m not sure I’ll be okay with that.”
“That won’t be my place because you’ll have Quinn. But,” he added with a cocky smile, “I won’t be reticent to suggest it or better yet, I could write a prescription for one. Possibly, for stubborn problems, a maintenance dose of spanking as a preventative.” He smiled and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Is it a deal?”
Cheyenne looked at her Quinn with a scrunched up nose. “Okay, deal,” she said.
“Can I talk to your daddy for a moment?” She nodded again and looked over at Quinn, who had his left eyebrow raised. She racked her brain to find out what she missed.
“Oh, yes, sir. You can talk to my fiancé if I can have some tissue. Someone left a mess on my tailgate.” It was her turn to raise her eyebrow in chastisement as she reached to accept the tissues and a soft furry bunny from his doctor bag.
She looked at it oddly when he smiled and shrugged. “I had it just in case you needed it.”
She grinned and rubbed its fur on her cheek as she went behind the screen to dress.
“Now we need a urine sample and to take her blood,” Dr. Taylor murmured regretfully. “If I’m taking her on, I need a new baseline for my records. I want to take this little sweetheart on as a patient, but that means starting right. While I would much prefer it in my office, I thought it might be too much, too soon, so I came prepared.”
Quinn nodded and waited for Cheyenne to reappear. He stepped back in front.
“Piscín, the doctor needs a urine and blood sample. We can go to his office or do it here.”
Her head was already shaking her negative response.
“Do not be my, cailín dána.” It was time to pull her back into the persona for a little bit longer. “Daddy is here, and I’ll hold you in my lap if it’s easier.”
“No. No. No. I’m not getting my blood taken, no needles. Ever.”
“Listen to me, beag amháin; you need to be my cailín maith. It’s for your health and if I have to roll you over first,” Quinn said, his eyebrow peaked again in warning, “I certainly will. Now do you want your new doctor to see you get another spanking?” He looked at her meaningfully before giving her a choice. “Here or at the doctor’s office?”
Her face was apple red, dark and brilliant. The implications and choices were obvious. Be a good girl and there’d be no problems, be a cailín dána, a naughty girl, and she’d pay the price.
“Please, Daddy, please don’t make me,” she begged desperately.
Her daddy shook his head sadly and said, “Piscín, come crawl in my lap. Let me hold you so the doctor can get his sample. Then you can go to the bathroom down the hall. Is that okay? I’ll go in with you. Yes? Will you do this for me?”
Amazed that she was crying real tears, she sniffed hard, took a deep breath. “Yes, Daddy, I will. Please don’t let it hurt. Don’t come in with me.” She straightened her shirt and looked up, “I can go to the bathroom by myself.”
Quinn took her hand. “Don’t worry, beag amháin. It’ll be just fine. Let Daddy take care of you. Ready?”
“Okay, Daddy,” she agreed as she followed him to the big chair placed there for aftercare and let him draw her onto his lap to cuddle.
He brought her to face him and laid her head on his broad shoulder. His shirt was soft, not the leather vest and silky shirt he usually wore to the club. It was the same club green but soft-brushed cotton making it comforting and warm. His chest rumbled when he spoke low and calm.
“Piscín?”
“Yes, Daddy?” her response was muffled slightly as she answered from the security of his chest.
“Doctor Taylor needs your right arm. Just put it out and keep laying on me with your head the other way. You can’t move even if there’s a little prick, okay?”
“Don’t let me go,” she whispered.
“I won’t.”
* * *
Some time later, when aftercare was over, and Cheyenne was back to being Quinn’s submissive, no longer his cailín beag, her manner changed. Doctor Taylor had become Master Carter again, and Quinn had dropped his daddy persona. Sitting at a table near the club bar, Cheyenne was relaxed, and Quinn kept touching her in little ways as if to keep her close. She joked and teased her friends and even their dom friends. It was as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
Later in the car on the way home, Quinn verified what they’d talked about in aftercare.
“So if you need your daddy, you’re going to be able to ask, right?”
“Probably, I mean, well, I just hope so.”
“I will shift to that persona if it’s obvious you need it or at least offer it.”
“I guess. It just seems so, um, weird, wrong. I don’t really think this is for me. I mean, it worked tonight, in its own way but I’m not really a ‘little.’ Not like Susan likes sometimes. I don’t think it’s going to ever be a key dynamic for us, do you?” Please understand. She turned to look out her window at the passing trees.
“I don’t think so, either, but I do like that you can go there if the need arises. I love how you trusted me to make this all right with you.” Quinn glanced over quickly and caressed Cheyenne’s thigh with his hand. She grasped it, bri
nging it to her lips.
Cheyenne looked at his face as the shadows were dispelled for a mere second by streetlights only to descend again as they passed by. “I felt so important, cherished. I’m still self-conscious, though. Pigtails, fluffy dresses, and all that I just can’t do but I love how it fills some empty place in me.”
“You did an incredible job of falling into the play, and I do think it helped. We have a better plan in place in case you need to see a doctor. And if you need your daddy to go, your new doctor won’t be freaked out by the switch in personas.” He turned to her after he parked the truck in front of her building. “I love you, Cheyenne; we’re going to work through this.”
“I love you too,” she said fervently hoping he was right as she leaned into his offered kiss.
Chapter Five
“Quinn, I’m finally done. The final checklist for the wedding is done. She proudly held up five neatly written single-spaced pages, all categorized and in meticulous order.
He whistled. “Are you sure we can’t just elope? I mean, this is a lot of work, probably too much work for something that’s going to be over in a few hours.”
“Yes, but lasts a lifetime. You’re not getting out of this, Mr. O’Connor.”
“I was afraid of that,” he answered as he swooped down to kiss her nose. “I want you to have the wedding you want because it’s the only one you will ever get.”
“Oh, I thought this was a trial run, you know, for when the real one comes along.” She felt his hand pop her bottom.
“Nope. When I get you to the altar and you say those vows, it’s all over but the spanking.”
“Oh, no.” Cheyenne shook her finger at Quinn. “There will be no spanking on my wedding day or my honeymoon.”
He looked crestfallen. “Not even the good girl kind?”
“Not even the good, oh, well, maybe that kind.” She grinned, and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“I can’t wait, a stór, we—” Quinn lifted his index finger and answered his phone. “Hello?” He looked up at Cheyenne and ducked his head down again and walked away to talk but she could hear. “Sorry, I can’t talk now, I’m with her.”
The rest of the conversation was lost in the wind, literally, as he had walked outside to finish his call. When he returned, it was as though he hadn’t behaved oddly at all, only he was distracted by something. That something gave her concern.
“Got to go, I need to make a few stops before we leave for Montana, and I have a full workload until we drive away.”
“Sure. Anything wrong at work?”
“Nope, same stuff really, lots of work but not lots of workers.” Quinn pecked Cheyenne on the lips and left only to quickly return to grab his hat off the table by the door. Wearing his Stetson at work was not part of the uniform, although he complained that it should be in the nicer months, so when he wasn’t working, that hat stayed with him. If his hat was there, he was there.
Cheyenne shrugged the strange behavior off because she was doing all sorts of crazy things herself these days. The wedding was making her go in circles. They would all need a rest after the big day was over. She picked up her own phone and called Siobhan to start work on her list.
“I’m making chicken and dressing for dinner and peach cobbler for dessert. Why don’t you come over early, and we can work on it then have dinner?”
“That sounds scrumptious. I’ll grab a salad on my way,” offered Cheyenne.
“Wonderful and some vanilla ice cream for the men. They like to put it on their cobbler,” Siobhan added.
“I remember. You spoil them, you know.”
“And I love it,” came the warm reply.
Later that afternoon just before she jumped in the shower, she remembered she was supposed to bring something to the dinner. Checking the time and seeing she would not be able to go after her shower because Quinlan would be skidding in on the dot to pick her up, she decided her best bet was to run to the store now. She could easily shave time off the dressing end. Grabbing her keys and wallet, she headed for the door with only a moment’s hesitation for her cell phone that was getting a desperately need charge. Deciding to leave it, she raced out the door.
The panel pictogram for needing gas was illuminated, and the needle was past empty. How did that happen? Irritated, she now had to stop for gas first, and that she hadn’t noticed the light soon enough to stop at the corner station, she pulled onto the main thoroughfare. Sitting in traffic at 4:00 was expected, but since she had noticed the gas light, it became a crucial focal point in her day. Thankfully, traffic was moving. Glancing at the gas gauge every few seconds, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation but uncontrollably drawn to do it anyway, Cheyenne searched her memory banks for whether you go faster or slower to save gas.
Ultimately, she’d just did what she could, she figured, if I can get there faster without overdoing it, then that was better. The jerking sputter was the first indication that she was not going to make it to her destination without trouble. She had never run out of gas before, amazingly enough, and the timing on this once in a lifetime experience couldn’t have been worse.
Feeling the anxiety of being stranded on the side of the road hit her as she pulled to the shoulder, in front of the sign that said emergencies only, before the car died. No phone, smart move, Cheyenne. Checking again for some unknown item, she sighed and got out of the car. That was when she noticed she only had slippers on her feet. At that point, she did release a loud sound of frustrated irritation at the situation she found herself.
What was I thinking? It was just going to be a quick run to the neighborhood store after all. Not a big deal except that’s when it becomes a big deal. Walking up to the station, she sighed her relief because her slippers had given up the ghost. She had relived her afternoon a hundred times over the laborious mile to the closest gas station.
Walking any distance was harder in slippers, and she had concluded that her brilliance was unsurpassed. Quinn would not be happy with her situation. Well, join the club. She wondered how many safety violations this would be? She didn’t really care if only Quinn were right there to take care of the whole problem. Attempting to take care of it herself, she explained her dilemma to the attendant.
“What do you mean I need a container for the gas?” she exclaimed to the attendant. “You can’t even loan me yours?”
“No way, my manager would dump me fast.”
“Over a gas can, he would fire you over a little gas can?” she put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, I’ll buy it from you. Do you have them to sell?” When she saw the negative shake of his head, she grunted her frustration and barely held back a scream. “Never damn mind.” After a moment of fuming, she calmed enough to continue, “Then may I please borrow your phone? I don’t have mine, and I’ve walked a mile. Not a big deal but it’s a little hot out here and as you can see,” she pointed to her tattered slippers, “these have had it.”
“Sure lady, for five dollars. I can’t take the chance you’re going to call long distance.”
“What? Even if you dial the number?” Incredulous, she capitulated. “Fine, fine.” She reached for the phone.
“In advance.” He held the phone just out of her reach as though she would steal it.
“Of course,” she responded sarcastically. Money paid, she tried Jacquie and several other friends, but no one was answering.
She finally called Quinn. “Are you okay, honey? Are you safe? Where are you?” He fired questions so fast she didn’t even attempt to answer them until he paused.
“I’m fine, but I don’t have a gas container, and they don’t loan under penalty of death. They don’t sell them either. I can barely use their phone. Quinn, I’ve tried, but I need help.”
“Honey, call the car club. Wait, why are you using their phone? No, never mind, tell me where you are, and I’ll call the roadside assistance.”
“Wait, honey, you can’t. I didn’t renew them.” She bit her lip and cringed in an
ticipation.
There was silence on the other end of the line before he spoke again in a quietly controlled voice, “I’ll send Andrew, Shane or someone to help. Don’t go anywhere, beag amháin.”
Cheyenne shivered in apprehension as she got the exact address and recited it to Quinn who demanded to speak to the attendant, anyway. The wait for help was not long. Shane arrived promptly, quickly taking the situation under control. He settled her in his truck turning up the air.
“You okay, a stór?”
“Aren’t you going to tell me that I should have been better prepared, I should have more than a skimpy tank top and shorts on, had real shoes on, enough gas in my car and my cell phone?”
“Nope.”
“Now how could that be? You’re an O’Connor male aren’t you?”
“Quinn said you can be sassy when you want to be, said that’s the first thing that attracted him to you. I thought I knew what he was talking about, but I can actually see it now. And to answer your question, I’m not going to chew you out because I’m the good brother in this one, Quinn is the mean one. You know, good cop, bad cop. Therefore, I’ll leave the unpleasantness to him when he arrives. From me, you will get sympathy for the trouble, a smirk for the shoes, rolled eyes for the phone and a tsk tsk for the attire. Want me to stop and get you something to drink, non-alcoholic of course. Even I won’t go up against a brother’s rule in his own family, and before you say it, you’re family, and you’re definitely his.”
Cheyenne laughed. “You’re my new favorite O’Connor.”
“Great. Can I call you when Alesha is mad at me so I can get a home cooked meal? She’s mean that way.”
“Let’s leave the options open, shall we?”
“Good enough,” Shane said with a chuckle.
That evening the laughter was loud as Shane began the retelling of his valiant rescue. The rescued was quiet, too quiet. Shane, after getting “the look” from his wife that Cheyenne was grateful for, slid into another perspective. Quinn had gone to get her car after she called him earlier, allowing Shane to run Cheyenne home and then to his parents’ ahead of him. She showered there, running to their corner market for the salad and ice cream in Siobhan’s car.
Accepting His Ways (Quinlan O'Connor Book 2) Page 8
