by Evans, Trent
Cathie had finally relented and allowed Leah a nice, starched apron, but at the cost of being bent over the living room couch—in full view of an amused (and aroused) Dane—and paddled until her pert round bottom glowed red.
The buxom little Leah had finished cooking dinner with trails of tears down her cheeks, even as she smiled her own arousal.
Cathie slowed to a stop, and Dane gratefully followed suit, bending over, his hands on his knees. She turned to him, holding her hands at her waist, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. “It’s more than that though. She’s pushing you—even though I don’t think she realizes why. I can’t stand brats.”
“Was Leah a brat then?”
Cathie’s eyes narrowed. “Not funny, doctor.”
He held up both hands. “Stand down, Nurse Cathie.”
“Seriously, Dane.” Her voice softened, and the irritation he’d just seen in her blue eyes gave way to something much softer. “It’s been how long since Steph? A year?”
Dane looked down, then nodded. It shouldn’t have still stung after all this time. But it did, even now.
“Think about what it is you really want, doctor. Sometimes it seems so right it scares you away from it.” She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don’t let Steph take any more chances from you, Dane.”
He met her gaze and she smiled, her nod so subtle he almost missed it. Then she turned away, arms still at her waist, blowing out a long breath as she walked.
“So you really think she’s a brat?”
He hadn’t considered that possibility until now. Did that explain some of her behavior? Was she something more than an irresponsible girl?
“Definitely a brat.” Cathie turned toward the morning sun, closing her eyes. “Jury’s still out on whether she realizes it though.”
Chapter Six
Amity rubbed her forehead with both hands; Mrs. Jamison getting angrier by the second.
“I scheduled this appointment two weeks ago, and now you’re rescheduling me?”
It wasn’t Amity’s fault—this time—but as the messenger she was being lined up before Mrs. Jamison’s metaphorical firing squad anyway.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Jamison,” she said, trying to inject the conversation with as much calmness as she could dredge up. “We had a scheduling conflict with Dr. McKendrick. If you want, I could get you over to Dr. Vance’s office? I know she’s got open—”
“I don’t want Dr. Vance. I want my doctor, you know, your boss, Dr. McKendrick! If you can’t get me in to see him, then I want to talk to him. Right now.”
Amity could feel her blood beginning to boil.
“That’s not possible, Mrs. Jamison. But let me see about getting you—”
Holding her headset away from her ear as Mrs. Jamison screeched, Amity rubbed her eyes hard.
The day had started badly, and getting torn a new ass for something that wasn’t her fault wasn’t helping it get any better. For once, last night she hadn’t partied—she had no money, but she didn’t think she would have even if she hadn’t been broke. The previous two straight nights of getting shit-faced had ensured that. She was just tired.
Todd had called her twice last night, and after a phone call of epic length where the man did not want to get a single one of the dozens of hints she’d laid down, she’d finally given up and let him come over. She’d fended off his advances until they’d both been tired, acquiescing to snuggling, which meant she got to lie there for an hour with Todd’s hard-on prodding her ass. He’d finally left when she was half asleep, visions of Dane’s huge hands crashing down upon her bottom flitting in and out of her half-lucid consciousness.
Todd’s hands weren’t strong like Dane’s—and the boy was much too easy to manipulate.
Then that morning, her alarm hadn’t gone off—yet again—and she’d found herself on her familiar mad scramble to get to work on time, cursing like a sailor as she tried to find something, anything to wear. By the grace of God she’d had one pair of clean slacks left, and she pulled on a thick black sweater as she stumbled out to her car.
While stopped at red lights, she’d pinned up her hair into some semblance of presentability, mostly hiding her bed head. But she still felt like a total ass, her hair greasy and itchy. Amity hated not having time to shower before work.
Now, listening to Mrs. Jamison freak out, she wanted to do nothing more than throw her headset across the room. Or cry.
The door to the hallway opened, Cathie striding in, carrying a file, and eyes shooting daggers. She set the file down and bent over Amity’s keyboard, invading her space. Amity slid her chair back, mouthing, “What?”
Cathie’s fingers punched the keyboard so hard, Amity was sure the woman’s fingertips would be bloody pulps. She looked at Amity, her whisper harsh. “Is that Connie Jamison?”
Wonderful, she’s been listening in on the calls again.
Amity nodded, Mrs. Jamison’s voice rising an octave, finding her second wind.
“Why didn’t you tell her to come in now?”
What? Was Cathie just trying to be a bitch, or had Amity woken up in Asshole World today? Amity punched up the schedule, jabbing her finger at the 2:00 PM appointment for Ms. Walker.
Cathie’s face flushed, her eyes going wide, her whisper almost a growl. “It’s 2:23, Amity.” She waved an arm toward the empty lobby. “Do you see Ms. Walker here? She’s obviously not coming. Tell Mrs. Jamison to come in right now. This is ridiculous.”
You fucking bitch.
The nurse stalked back toward the door, yanking it open just as Dr. McKendrick walked back up from Exam. His eyebrows raised, and he looked from Amity to Cathie and back again.
But Amity was seeing red. She put her headset back on just as the dial tone sounded. Mrs. Jamison had hung up on her! Amity slammed her headset down onto the counter and leapt up.
“What’s your fucking problem, Cathie?”
The head nurse froze, halfway through the door, then turned slowly and glanced at Dr. McKendrick, who shrugged his shoulders. Cathie stalked back toward Amity, her gaze colder than a January wind.
“My problem is you’re telling a patient we can’t see them, when you’ve got an opening right now in the schedule.”
“That’s Ms. Walker’s!”
“It was Ms. Walker’s, Amity.” Cathie crossed her arms under the swell of her breasts. “It ceased to be hers when she didn’t show up. Which is why I told you to have Mrs. Jamison come in.”
Amity wanted to strangle the nurse.
“You told me to keep the schedule up to date. To go by what the schedule says, right? That’s what I’m doing!”
Cathie sighed, glancing over at Dr. McKendrick, whose gaze was now locked on Amity, his square jaw tight, his lips a thin line.
“What you should be doing is using your judgment, not blindly following a schedule as if it’s set in stone, and making clients needlessly wait.”
On some level, Amity knew she was in trouble and should stop right now. But she couldn’t. She was too goddamned tired, and she was not going to just let Cathie treat her like shit.
“First you say, ‘use the schedule,’ now you say, ‘don’t use the schedule.’” Amity threw up her hands, slouching back into her chair. “I can’t fucking win around here!”
Cathie let out a long breath. “Dr. McKendrick pays you to think, not be a mindless robot. You’re smart, we can all see that. So try using that head of yours for once.”
“That’s enough, Cathie.” Dr. McKendrick murmured, shooting her a warning look.
Cathie turned, slipping past Dr. McKendrick and walking back down the hall toward Exam. “I’m tired of doing her job for her.”
“Fuck you, Cathie!” Amity snarled, turning back toward her computer, so angry she could hardly speak.
Dr. McKendrick strode up to stand directly in front of her. She purposely avoided looking at him. “I suppose you’re going to take her side? I’m the dumb ass kid, right?”
Amity could
feel the tears building, her frustration making her hands shake as she clicked her mouse over and over, opening and closing the same window, too pissed off to think straight.
“Amity, look at me.” His voice was like a distant rumble of thunder. “Right now.”
Reluctantly, she looked up at him, her mouth going dry.
Oh, shit.
“What did we discuss in our first meeting?”
She knew exactly which ‘meeting’ he referred to, the memory of it making her cheeks flame.
“This isn’t fair, sir.” She hated the whining note that had snuck into her voice.
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“Sorry.” She inhaled deeply, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “You said next time I fu—”
“Amity.”
She winced. “Sorry, mess up, that I’ll be punished again.”
“That’s right. And I specifically warned you about your cursing, didn’t I?”
“But she—”
His voice had gone to pure ice. “Didn’t I?”
You’re in deep shit.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, today’s the day we’re going to address that smart mouth of yours. But not right now.”
Her nipples hardened into steel points, whether from fear or something else she wasn’t sure.
“Please, Dr. McKendrick… “
“One more thing. You will listen to and obey Cathie as if she were me. I don’t want to hear any more defiance or talking back from you. Do you understand that?”
The prospect appealed to her slightly less than chewing on tin foil, but from the set of his jaw and the flash of his eyes, she knew he meant business.
She swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
Just then the lobby door opened. It was Mrs. Gonzalez for her 2:30. The woman took one of the seats gingerly, her huge belly making her groan softly as she sat down.
He smiled. “Good to see you, Angela. I’ll just be a minute, then I’ll have Cathie bring you back.”
She nodded, murmuring something Amity couldn’t quite make out.
Dr. McKendrick turned for the door back to Exam. “Time to go back to work. Please call Mrs. Jamison again and ask her to come in.”
Then he was gone.
What the hell had she done?
* * *
The number popped up on her display, the tone ringing in her headset, but she didn’t believe what she was seeing.
It was the conference room.
This couldn’t be right. It was only four o’clock. He didn’t really intend to…
Her finger tapped the button, connecting the call.
“Come back to the conference room, please.” His voice was even, almost mild, but there was no mistaking it was an order.
“Y-yes, sir.”
The line went dead.
On shaking legs, Amity opened the door to the hallway down to Exam, grateful she didn’t pass Cathie on the way. She wasn’t positive there wouldn’t be an ugly scene in such an event.
Try Cathie getting her ass kicked.
Amity tried to buoy her spirits with the thought of putting the blond ice queen in her place, but it didn’t even dent the roiling ball of nerves sitting heavy in her belly. She still didn’t think he was actually going to punish her—at least not now—but she was nervous as hell either way, her mind conjuring up all manner of horrors he might visit upon her.
She opened the door to find Dr. McKendrick leaning against the table, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his stethoscope hanging over one shoulder. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his light blue button-down, exposing the dark hair on his brawny forearms. Another very un-doctor like feature of the man. A stack of charts was next to him on the table, his cell phone laid on top.
He simply gazed at her for a moment, his eyes traveling up and down her body. She felt disgusting, not having had a shower that morning, grateful that it didn’t appear she was going to actually be spanked. Maybe he’d just want to talk? If she was lucky perhaps she’d get off with a lecture—something she’d be eternally grateful for.
“Come here, Amity.” He nodded toward the floor. “Right here, in front of me.”
Uh oh.
She complied, the heat of his gaze upon her making her avert her eyes. He was closer than she was comfortable with, his proximity causing butterflies in her belly. She hoped the thickness of her sweater hid her nipples. They were still hard, and she knew the flimsy lace of her bra would do nothing to hide their prominence.
“Eyes up, Amity,” he said, unhurried, but the command in his voice plain. “Stand up straight, shoulders back.”
She blushed as she obeyed, bringing her gaze up, looking just beyond his right shoulder, afraid to meet those eyes of his.
“Look at me. I don’t want to tell you again.”
Her gaze locked with his, and he nodded. “Good. Now, I spoke with Cathie about your little argument out there. What I told you stands—you obey her as you would me.” He took a breath, his fingers drumming on his forearm. “But I told her to lay off of you. She was out of line out there—and she apologized.”
Amity’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t think the cruel woman possibly had it in her. She smiled tentatively.
“I don’t know what you’re grinning about, Amity. Your behavior out there was atrocious.” He pushed himself off the table to pace back and forth in front of her, so close his arms nearly brushed the tips of her breasts as he passed by each time.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Amity willed her mouth not to go completely dry. “But she was being awful to me—”
“She was doing what was best for the clients.” He stopped and stared at her, not one foot away. “Which is what you were supposed to be doing.”
“I—”
“Not another word out of you, Amity, unless it’s ‘yes, sir.’”
She snapped her mouth shut, closing her eyes for a moment. He was pissed. Her bottom was already tingling, remembering the pain of their last meeting in this room. But there were patients in the exam area. He couldn’t possibly punish her without someone hearing. They’d know.
“I want you to take down your pants and panties.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He laid a finger across her lips, and she fought the insane urge to kiss it. “Not another word. Do I have to gag you?”
She gasped.
“I will if I need to. Don’t push your luck with me. Your ass is already in enough of a sling as it is. Don’t make it worse.” His eyes glittered. “But I need that mouth for something else instead.”
Oh, my God. Here?
Her eyes, as if they possessed minds of their own, dropped to his crotch. The bulge there was huge. He was hard! She swallowed, not sure if she wanted to be wrong about what he meant.
He chuckled, genuine amusement in his voice. “No, not for that, bad girl. Eyes up now.”
She obeyed, her face flaming hot.
His expression sobered, a muscle in his jaw bunching. “Now, I promised you’d be punished if you continued with your language. And you made it worse by cursing at both Cathie and me. Do you think that’s acceptable behavior?”
“No, sir.”
“And do you know what will happen every single time I catch you cursing?”
“I’ll be punished.”
He smiled at her, a flash of bright teeth devoid of any warmth. “That’s right! And that’s what we’re going to take care of right now. But first—” he glanced down, “—you need to follow directions.”
Amity bit off a little whimper.
“Yes, sir.”
Why was he making her… take down her pants, if he wasn’t going to spank her? The prospect of the people in the office hearing him spanking her, her inevitable cries and pleading, made her want to curl up into a fetal position. He couldn’t possibly mean to do that—he’d be risking his own job too.
“If I have to tell you again, we’ll add to what you’ve already got coming to you.�
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Her fingers drew down the zipper, and she pushed down her pants and panties in one swift motion, crouching for a moment, dreading what came next.
“Stand up. Now.”
“Please… “
“Do it, Amity.”
She thought her face might actually spontaneously combust as she straightened, her hands crossed in front of her sex. The air currents in the room were cold across a pussy that felt entirely too wet.
Oh, God, not again.
“Good.” He caught her gaze once more, his eyes dark, intent. “Now put those hands behind your head. Lace your fingers together.”
“No…”
He reached around and smacked her bottom, hard, almost knocking her off balance in her heels. “Do it, Amity. Obey me.”
The pain flared bright from the hand print she knew now decorated her ass cheek. A tear escaped, running down her burning cheek as she finally complied with his order, tightening her fingers together at the back of her head. Amity kept her gaze down. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye now.
“Good girl.” He walked around her slowly, once, twice, not saying a word, the heat of his gaze upon her exposed sex, her vulnerable bare bottom.
He stopped in front of her, leaning close, his warm breath on her cheek. For a moment she thought he might kiss her, and she lifted her mouth toward him. But he didn’t, instead whispering in her ear.
“Stay where you are. I’ll be right back.”
Then he slipped around her, the door behind her opening, then closing.
Please, God, tell me nobody was looking through that door.
What was he up to? She’d changed her mind, yes, she’d definitely rethought things. She’d gladly take a spanking over the unknown, the horrible scenarios her too-creative mind came up with for what Dr. McKendrick had planned for her.
Don’t you mean sir?
Thinking of him in that regard was no longer as alien as it had seemed two weeks ago. It did, well, sort of fit. Obeying him, that is. It wasn’t just fear that had her wanting to obey him though. It would’ve been far easier, far simpler if it had only been fear.
But Amity knew that that something else was the same reason why her pussy was soaking wet right now as she stood, at attention, her pants and panties pooled at her feet, her pussy and ass entirely bare. Somehow the embarrassment was worse, partially clothed as she was, as if it was a reminder of the dignity he’d stripped away, the status he’d reduced her to.
