Smithwick wanted him off his tail, and like with Fiona Corrione and her relationship with the Chameleon, Jasmine was now in the crosshairs.
* * * * *
Jasmine melted into the man’s embrace and squeezed him tight around his middle. Funny how she only felt a brotherly affection for him when she had once delighted in making him scream in orgasm.
“I’ve missed you, Mitch.” She laid her palm against his smooth cheek. “You’re looking good.”
He made a face, then pulled out a chair for her to sit. “I still hate hearing you saying my name.”
“In here,” she touched her heart, “you will always be my Army.”
“Thanks.” He took his seat across the bistro table. “You’re still as beautiful as ever, but something’s bothering you.”
She readjusted her sunglasses and took a sip of coffee. “You’re sweet but full of shit.”
Even if the sun wasn’t shining bright in the sky, she’d still have worn the dark lenses. Nights of punching the pillow and a full workload made the circles beneath her eyes look as if she had been hit in the face with two baseballs.
“I hope you haven’t thought I’d abandoned you, but I did find you the perfect Mistress.”
“I hope she’s willing to wait three months. I’ve been called back into the reserves. They’re shipping me out in three days.”
“What?” She straightened in alarm. “Mitch. No.”
“It’ll be all right, Mistress. The time away will actually give me time to think, you know, about what I want from a Mistress.”
His casual shrug didn’t fool her. He was worried.
“Where are you going?”
He looked out into the distance and brushed a stray cherry blossom petal off the tabletop. “My guess, Pakistan, but the way the world seems to have fallen into a shit-storm lately, anyplace is possible.”
“But you’ll come back.” She grasped his hand. “Promise.”
“Of course I will.” He flashed his Hollywood smile and she swore she heard the women sitting two tables over have an orgasm. “I want to meet this Mistress you’ve found me.”
“I’ll be severely pissed if you come back in a coffin.”
“I love you too.” He kissed the back of her hand. “Now, tell me why you dropped Rookie.”
She snatched her hand away and wrapped her fingers around her cup. “It’s complicated.”
“Try me.”
“It’s really nothing you should be bothered with.”
“Jasmine.” The forcefulness in his tone shocked her. He had never raised his voice to her before. “You are my friend. Always. And I can tell there’s something eating at you. I’m here to listen. What happened?”
She stalled for time by taking another long sip of her lukewarm Irish cream latte while Mitch stared her down until her heart pounded. She wasn’t sure she liked this newly revealed dominance from him. She liked when he never questioned her reasoning.
The thought made her wince and the coffee congeal in her throat. Was it even possible to sound more shallow? Why would anyone want a friend or lover who thought their opinion was the only one that mattered?
“The captain asked me out,” she finally squeaked out.
“No!” Mitch gasped and clutched at his chest. “What was he thinking?”
“Knock it off.” She kicked him under the table and felt the flames of embarrassment lick up her neck. “You know I don’t date.”
“I’ve heard you say that many times, but why not?”
“I don’t have the time to invest in a relationship.”
“Bullshit. You invested in me. You invested in him.”
“Two days a week. And those were scheduled visits. If a cancellation had to be made, no harm, no foul.”
“Ah…” He leaned back in his seat and nodded. “So we’re talking emotional investment. What’s so wrong about wanting to spend time with someone you care about that doesn’t involve leather straps and lubricant?”
She wanted to laugh, she did, but the truth wasn’t that funny. “When lines are blurred between inside the club and outside the club, expectations begin to form. Roles become cloudy.” She licked her lips and voiced her greatest fear. “Reality intrudes and the magic disappears. I can’t be in control twenty-four/seven, even if I wanted to be. And how can you maintain your authority over someone when they know your bathroom habits or whether you stack the dishes in the sink or put them away? Everyday life isn’t sexy. Over time, the excitement you once felt in the dungeon will fade and all you’ll be left with is discussions about who’s gonna take out the trash or fold the laundry. It’s all so…so bland.”
“You. Are. Insane.” He shook his head. “Jasmine, you’re the type of women who grabs life by the balls and laughs as you twist them harder. You’ll never be in a relationship like you described. Sure, it won’t be night after night of extreme play, but if you’re with the right person, even the boring times will be fun.” His grin turned rueful. “You know, when you ended our arrangement, I panicked. I didn’t know if I would find a person to fill that need I have to be submissive. But by being on my own, I realized that you were right. I want a dominant woman in my life full time. And I know that’s not you. I’ll find her, just like you’ll find the sub who can let you just be you without the whips and corsets when needed.” His eyes narrowed as he lowered his head and frowned. “But you won’t find him if you keep pushing men away. If you want it all, Mistress, you’ll have to risk it all.”
She huffed and folded her arms. “I hate it that you sound logical, and I come across as nothing but a brat.”
“You hate being vulnerable, and Rookie backed you into a corner. I’m not surprised you came out hissing.” He shrugged and took a drink of his coffee as if doling out relationship advice were an everyday occurrence.
Amazing. She started to laugh and shook her head. “You paid that much attention to me?”
“You were my world.” The certainty in his voice made her breath catch. “You were the only one who showed me what I was searching for even though I hadn’t a clue.”
Jasmine smiled at him as her eyes watered and insecurities frothed in her stomach like sea foam caused by a massive wave. The words were barely audible as she admitted out loud, “I’m scared.”
“Who isn’t when their heart is on the line? It looks to me like you’re living the alternative now. How is that going?”
“It sucks.” She snorted and squeezed his hand. “Thanks for the perspective.”
“Any time.” He saluted with his cup.
They chatted until it was time for her to leave for her morning shift. As they parted, she made sure she hugged him so tight, he would still be able to feel her embrace wherever in the world the military sent him. With a promise to write, she walked the five blocks to the hospital with his words running through her mind like a song on constant replay.
Maybe she had overreacted some to Marco’s desire for more. Wasn’t it supposed to be a good thing when someone you liked wanted to spend more time with you? Shouldn’t that make you burst with happiness and immediately run to change your social media status to “in a relationship”? God, it had been so long since she went out on anything resembling a date, how did Doms date their subs?
Lord, this was going to take a lot of thought.
“Good morning, Helen,” she greeted a passing nurse as she entered the sliding doors of the emergency room.
Helen dropped her clipboard and stared as if shocked by her appearance.
“Are you all right?” Jasmine asked.
“Fine,” Helen stammered and her cheeks turned dark pink. “I just—I. You. I didn’t know you were coming in today.”
“I’m on the schedule, right?”
“Yes, but I didn’t think we’d be seeing you.” Her eyes flew wide open. “I don’t mean seeing-seeing you, just, oh—never mind.”
“What in the hell was that about?” she muttered as the woman all but ran down the hall.
&nbs
p; The oddities continued as she reached the nurses’ station. The two women behind the counter looked at her with the same wild-eyed expression as Helen. Even the medics waiting at the counter looked her up and down as if trying to see beneath her clothes.
“Looking good, Dr. Jo,” Dr. Rawlings smirked as he passed her. “I miss the purple, though.”
“What?”
“Dr. Jovanovich.” Dr. Reid’s melodic baritone echoed down the hall from where he stood by the elevator door. “May I see you please?”
Jasmine knew the question was a command not a request. She ignored the twitters and chuckles from the peanut gallery and walked toward the chief of staff, feeling as if she was being called into the principal’s office.
The ride to the seventh floor was painfully silent as she kept her gaze on the doors and ignored the sidelong glance the older man directed her way. Dr. Reid was neither a friend nor ally to anyone in the hospital, which made him a great boss. His opinion of you was based solely on merit, which was an anomaly in the politics-heavy medical field. Whatever thoughts were going through his head had to be real doozies to have his forehead crinkle in such a manner as it was at that moment.
She followed him to his office and perched on the offered seat across from his desk. He took his chair and eyed her over the hands he clenched in front of his nose.
After several seconds, he quirked a dark eyebrow. “What do you have to say for yourself, Doctor?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what you mean.” What was going on?
“The photos, Doctor.”
“I still don’t follow.”
Good heavens, was the man blushing? Dr. Reid? The man who during her second year of residency calmly and without a twitch of an eyelash removed a man’s stuck penis from a flower vase filled with Jell-O? Who removed a chunk of cucumber out of a woman’s vagina after her boyfriend got a little overzealous with a vegetable and acted as if it was no big deal?
She felt her eyes dry out as she watched unblinkingly as he picked up the papers on his desk and handed them to her facedown. Did she want to turn them over and see what had him looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else but in the room?
Her hands trembled ever so slightly as she picked up the papers.
Motherfucker. She bit back the curse as she saw the photos that appeared to be screenshots from the internet.
Wow. Mistress Jasmina did cut quite a figure when she was dressed in all her dominatrix glory and tossing the whip. What kind of camera did the photographer use, an HD lens? The picture was laser sharp, capturing the slightest details, from the creases in her dress to the beads of sweat dotting her skin.
The photos were from her last night with Marco. In one she was lashing him with the whip, in the other she was pressed along his side. Although there was a blurred-out circle on the print, there was no doubt she had her hand wrapped around his cock. Even if she hadn’t been, the censoring of the photo sure made it look like she did.
“Now do you understand?” asked Dr. Reid.
“I see…wow. I see—” Hey. She realized the screen shots were blown up to fill the page of paper and not the actual size from the internet. So the good doctor wanted a better look, huh? How completely, totally and typically male. And utterly disappointing behavior for a man she had admired until that moment. Instead of calling him out on the fact an enlargement of the photos were not necessary, she asked, “Where did these come from?”
“The photos themselves you would know better than I. Someone posted them on the front page of the hospital’s website.”
“What?” For everyone to see? Who would do such a thing? “Are they still there?”
“Heavens no. They were taken down as soon as they were discovered, but we’re not the only website they were posted on. Apparently they’re everywhere. Even my son called from college, asking about the Dom doctor. His fraternity brothers want to meet you, but that is neither here nor there. We have other issues to discuss, namely what is the meaning of these photos?”
Jasmine kept flipping through the pictures, completely flabbergasted that someone had gone to such an effort to out her. Who could it be? “I’m still not understanding. Obviously I have interests outside of the hospital. But who posted these on the website?”
“That we do not know. It appears the hospital’s hosting site was compromised and another user uploaded them.”
“And IT can’t tell who it was?”
“Our IT can barely keep our network running, let alone trace a hacker.”
“Well, what about—” She was about to say contacting the police, but what good would that do? Posting a photo was not really against the law. Right now the only harm was her embarrassment, if she allowed it. Ah, now the strange looks she received when she arrived all made sense. “I take it most of the staff have seen these?”
“And the board, and the news and many of our patients. I’ve been fielding calls all day about the slutty doctor.”
She winced. “That’s not fair. What I do on my own time is my business. I’ve kept my private life and my work life separate for years.”
“Until now.”
“I’ve not broken any rules.”
“Technically, no.” He adjusted his tie. “First and foremost we are a hospital. Our patients and their care come first. With all of the fuss stirred up by these pictures, it’s been difficult to maintain that focus.”
“I can’t control that, Dr. Reid.”
“I understand. My hope is this will all blow over soon, which is why I want you to take the day off. Actually take the next three. Perhaps by the time you return, the calls and visitors will have stopped.”
Disbelief had her head feeling as if it were floating away. “I’m being suspended, sir?”
“Administrative leave.”
“Are you kidding me?” Anger over the situation made her leap from her chair. “I’m being punished for a childish prank that is out of my control?”
“The ER is enough of a circus as it is, and my God, if I have to break up another group of doctors who are spending time away from their patients to ogle your…well…” He nodded his head as his eyes fell to her breasts, which at that moment were heaving behind her modestly cut blouse. “It’s only for a few days. As long as you behave, I’m certain this will be nothing but a bad nightmare for everyone involved.”
“As long as I behave,” she repeated. Message received. She was not to engage in any behavior that might appear the least bit unseemly. Great. Just great. She straightened and looked down her nose, giving her boss the expression she used when a sub had displeased her. “Is that all, Dr. Reid?”
He swallowed hard and nodded. He had to clear his throat to say, “Yes, Dr. Jovanovich.”
Without another word, she turned on her heel and marched out of the office with her best dominatrix swagger. She had done nothing wrong, and there was no way she was going to let anyone make her feel any sort of embarrassment.
The elevator doors slid open and she stepped into the thankfully empty car. As they slid shut a voice shouted, “Wait up.”
A white lab coat-covered arm thrust between the doors, prompting them to reopen. Dr. Goldwyn strode into the car and pushed the button for the lobby. Once they were enclosed, the young heart surgeon turned a car salesman’s smile in her direction. “Jasmine, Jasmine, Jasmine.”
Oh God.
“Aren’t you full of surprises. I have to tell you, I like what I’ve seen.”
She refused to budge as he crept into her personal space, coming to within an inch of her arm as she clutched her bag as if it were a shield. She wasn’t going to give the creep the satisfaction of knowing he bothered her.
“If I’d known you liked it kinky, I would have asked you out long ago.”
She choked back a snort. As if he ever had a chance with her. Sure, he was pretty, but he was also conceited and a snob. The only respect she held for him was for his ability in the operating room.
“Seeing you in those p
icture, girl, hmm…there are so many things I want to do to you.”
“You need your eyes checked, Goldwyn. If you looked closer, you’d have seen that I don’t take it, I give it out.”
“You just haven’t met the right man. I can make you beg.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him lift his hand then felt the slide of his palm down her back.
Bam. Her bag hit the floor as she knocked his hand away and jabbed him in the solar plexus with her right fist. “Do not touch me.”
“Hey. Hey. Sorry. I’m sorry.” He cowered in the corner. “I thought—”
“You thought wrong. And you can tell every one of your misogynistic friends in cardiology, and anywhere else, that you’ll only have me in your dreams.”
She left Goldwyn huddled in the elevator and strode down the hall. All talking stopped as she passed the nurses’ station and crowded lobby, looking neither right nor left as she kept her head held high and a swing to her step. The entire drive home was a blur as all of her thoughts were centered on one question.
Who?
Who disliked her so much that they had gone to the trouble of taking her picture and posting it all over the internet, going so far as to hack their way into the hospital’s website? She always took care to be polite and cordial whenever possible, and she kept a rather low profile, even for a dominatrix. The only person who could potentially have any reason to be vindictive was Marco, and posting photos was not his style. Besides, he was in the photos too, even if his face was covered by the mask. None of it made sense.
She parked her car in the garage under her condominium complex. Usually she would step out of the vehicle and enter the elevator to her unit without another thought, but as she opened the door, she scanned the area, peering into every corner and shadow in search of a possible stalker. Was the photographer perhaps someone from the club who felt she had scorned them somehow? At this point anything was possible.
The garage was quiet and the elevator empty. The car came to a stop on her floor, and the doors opened on a whisper.
“Jasmine. Thank God.”
OnlyatTheCavern Page 18
