Alexa: The Ties That Bind (Auction Night Book 1)

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Alexa: The Ties That Bind (Auction Night Book 1) Page 2

by Ellie Masters


  We’re ripped apart until we feel like the lowest of the low, like we’re going to kill the next patient we touch, then he takes all the broken pieces and puts them back together again.

  Our job is intense and he doesn’t want any of us to forget the trust put into our hands.

  I can’t help it. I’m star-struck.

  And I’m so glad Jack put his foot in it. I didn’t know the times when each of the W’s happened. Now, I’ll never forget.

  We finish rounds three hours later and Daniel places his hand on the back of my arm. The touch is electric and my body's response is instantaneous.

  “You excited to scrub in?” He’s a tall man and he leans down to speak to me. He doesn’t have to and he doesn’t do that with anyone but me.

  His fingers tighten on my arm. This is the most intimate we’ll be at work. It’s the most touching he’ll allow, but he stoops down and speaks into my ear with a voice full of gravel and sex appeal.

  “I’m looking forward to having you under my control.” In his operating room, he’s king.

  And my legs are officially jelly.

  I swallow thickly. “Thank you for the opportunity. It’s an honor.”

  “You handled yourself well during rounds, Alexa.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  His grip tightens. He can’t touch me without getting hard. Our connection is that strong.

  “I would suggest you study your management of post op fevers. I’d hate what happened to Jack happen to you. Not all attendings are as forgiving as me.”

  He’s the worst of them all.

  But a shiver worms its way down my spine. My nerves riot and the fine hairs of my arms stand on end.

  He lowers his voice to a whisper. “I think it’s something we'll address tonight, baby girl.”

  Baby girl.

  Be still my beating heart but I'm toast when he uses his nickname for me.

  He’s my boss at work and an uncompromising taskmaster at night. I’ll be grilled about post op fevers tonight, and if I fail to get it perfect, my ass will pay.

  At home, he’s my professor and I’m his naughty school girl.

  I can’t wait for the lessons to begin.

  Chapter 2

  The operating room is chilly but I don’t care. This is where I want to be. I should be standing near the foot of the bed, across from the surgical tech. It’s the farthest place from the action and the perfect place to put a useless intern.

  Instead, Daniel places me beside him, at our patient’s shoulder. Because I’m shorter than Daniel and his surgical fellow, Mark, I perch on a step stool and peer over our patient’s open chest to watch his lungs inflate and his heart beat.

  I’m literally looking inside this man’s chest.

  Daniel is intense. Laser focused. Everyone is on point.

  I’m superfluous, and other than watching surgical magic, I’m not touching anything. Hands clasped to my chest, I make sure I don’t break the sterile field, I’m almost afraid to breathe.

  We’re at the scariest part. In a moment, Daniel is going to stop the man’s heart, put him on bypass and fix a leaky heart valve.

  He stands beside me and shifts his hip to the left. Touching me. The contact is intentional and discreet. He wants me to feel him and I do.

  I feel every inch of him and I’m nearly intoxicated being in such close proximity. It’s like we’re playing a little game, stealing this touch, and nobody in the room knows it.

  Whenever possible, he finds some way to touch me. It can be with his elbow, a passing brush against my boob. Or, like now, when he shifts ever so slightly until our hips touch.

  Each touch is a tantalizing tease. Not that anyone sees. Not that anyone knows.

  But I do.

  My body is hyper-responsive to all things Daniel.

  “Get ready.” He announces to the room. “Going on bypass.”

  I’m tense.

  The fellow is tense.

  Everyone in the room pauses to take in a breath.

  You wouldn’t know we just stopped a man’s heart with the effortless grace with which Daniel instructs his fellow on what to do next.

  I know my anatomy. I study it every day and every night, but this is something altogether new.

  I’m not looking at the insides of a cadaver. This is a living human being.

  And Daniel is going to fix his leaky heart.

  I bite my lower lip while they talk through the procedure as they do it. Before my eyes, a ruined heart valve is removed and a synthetic one is put in its place.

  “All right everyone, this is it.” Daniel gives a little clap of his hands.

  This is what?

  I have no idea what happens next, except there’s activity over by the bypass machine.

  I practically jump out of my skin when Daniel reaches over and takes my hand in his.

  “Dr. Black, do you want to do the honors? Have you ever massaged a heart?”

  I look at him as if he’s grown two heads. Of course, I haven’t massaged a heart and is he thinking what I think he is?

  My question is answered as he moves my hand from where I have it tightly clasped over my chest to hover over the surgical field. His grip is firm, solid, and resolute.

  He touches me exactly the same way he does when we’re alone.

  Confident.

  Sure.

  Completely in control.

  His voice guides me as he tells me exactly what he wants me to do. And his hand is on mine, showing me what he expects.

  I’m giddy and, if I wasn’t so excited about what I think is going to happen next, I’d be aroused as hell.

  He places my hand on the heart.

  “Wrap your fingers around it.” He shows me exactly where to put my hand and covers mine with his experienced hand.

  I do exactly as I’m told. I have an inherent need to please this man and a deep desire to obey him.

  It’s why we are so good together.

  He gives a squeeze of his hand and my hand contracts. The man’s heart moves beneath me.

  “Just like that, Alexa.” His voice whispers across my skin while his hand shows me exactly how to restart our patient’s heart.

  By squeezing, we’re waking up the nerve bundles which pace the heart. It’s like doing CPR except we’re not pressing on the man’s chest. We’re actually compressing his heart.

  Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze.

  To the others in the room, he’s showing an intern how to massage a heart and restart normal electrical activity. Between us, he’s caressing my fingers with his, soothing me with his voice. It’s easily one of the most sensual moments in my life.

  “You got it. A firm hand is what it takes.” He’s not talking about squeezing a heart. “Dedication. Discipline. Determination. Those are what separate those who achieve their goals from those who don’t.” Again, he’s not talking about being a doctor.

  As my confidence grows, and my grip becomes more sure, he drags the tip of his finger over the knuckles of my hand.

  “Are you dedicated? Do you have the discipline to survive?”

  Again, he’s not talking about open heart surgery and restarting a man’s heart.

  The slightest movement happens beneath my hand and I give a gasp. I squeeze the heart again and that shudder picks up speed. The heart gives a little shake, then the first pulsation kicks in.

  The heart is beating on its own.

  “Yes, Sir.” My response is breathy because of what just happened, but more so because of the subtext I’m reading in his tone.

  We’ve been delving deeper and deeper into this thing between us. He’s been challenging me with the depths of my submission. Our bedroom sessions are slipping over into everything else.

  “This is what I want. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.”

  Now I’m the one who’s not talking about work. I’m ready to dive right into the deep end.

  “Congratulations Alexa, you just restarted his heart.” Daniel pulls
my hand back.

  “Holy shit!”

  People laugh all around me. They see this kind of thing every day. For me, it’s miraculous.

  Daniel ignores me for the remainder of the case as he talks Mark through the finer points of closing up the chest. He bends a knee near the end, brushing against me with the slightest pressure. It’s a gentle caress.

  And a promise.

  “Dr. Black,” he says in a dismissive voice. “Unscrub. You have work to do.”

  Unfortunately, that’s true. Joining him in the operating room means none of my daily notes have been done. It’s going to be a late night for me, but I don’t care.

  I’m not on call tonight. Daniel isn’t either. We have an entire evening together and tonight he’s taking me to the club for Auction Night.

  The Ties that Bind is hosting its annual charity event. Daniel wants to know if I’m dedicated? If I’m disciplined?

  He’s going to be surprised when he finds out exactly how far I’m willing to go. Step aside Alice in Wonderland. I’m getting ready to jump down that rabbit hole.

  When an intern is dismissed from an operating room, they leave. We all want to hang around and watch the cool stuff. This is what a surgical resident lives for: operating on patients. Unfortunately, surgeries are only a small part of the job.

  For an intern, it’s a very small part.

  I exit the operating room and remove my sterile attire, scrub my hands, and head back to the surgical unit. A quick check on Mr. Parks and I’m relieved to see the antibiotics are working. His fever broke and he smiles when I do my exam. We chat for a bit, then I’m off to write my notes.

  Hours go by and I’m deep into the monster that is our electronic medical record. Everyone else has left and the room is blissfully quiet without all the extraneous chatter. I’m on the last note and will be done soon.

  A presence looms behind me. My gut tightens and my breath quickens. A hand goes around the back of my neck. Long fingers wrap around to dig into the soft tissues along my throat.

  “Alexa, are you nearly finished?”

  Daniel’s voice does strange things to me, especially when he shifts to the lower registers which define his dominant side.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  I stiffen because he shouldn’t call me that. Not here. Someone might hear. But then I remember I’m alone in the resident workroom.

  He bends down and nips the corner of my earlobe with his teeth. This is crossing so many lines and he’s taking a serious risk.

  “Daniel…”

  “Tsk, tsk, baby girl. That is not what you’re allowed to call me at work. Your ass must be calling to me.” He’s standing directly behind me and I feel him push against the back of the chair. “Are you eager for tonight?”

  We met at the club. He fucked me there the first time. Paddled my ass until my throat was raw. And he sent me to my knees before him for the first time. It’s where he asked me to come home and spend the night with him.

  We clicked on a level I can't describe. And I went to my new Dom's home where we fucked and embraced our mutual kink.

  I didn't know who he was, and he had no idea I was one of the new interns starting that year. It was a little bit of a shock, but after the things we'd done…there was no stopping. We'd fallen too far down the rabbit hole to turn back.

  That was months ago. We’ve been inseparable ever since as our dynamic matured. We’re not in a Master/slave dynamic—although I want one—but we’re pretty damn close.

  Something about handing over all control to Daniel excites me, but there’s more. It soothes the ragged edges in my life. With him in control, I don’t have to worry about anything. All I have to do is follow his lead, submit to his command, and fulfill every filthy desire running through his head.

  I want that with a passion that keeps me up at night and runs through my head all through the day.

  “Yes, Sir, I’m eager. I’m almost done.”

  His fingers are tracing up and down my throat, stroking along my windpipe with promise. He’s been experimenting with breath play. It’s dangerous and risky, but I trust my life to this man.

  Hell, we restarted a man’s heart today.

  Daniel knows his limits and I trust myself with him implicitly.

  “I love when you call me Sir, baby girl.” He rocks his hips into the back of my chair.

  I bet he’s hard. Not that there’s anything I can do about it. Not here.

  “Hurry up with your notes. I want to be at the club by nine.” He brings both hands around my throat and gives a squeeze. “And we need to discuss the punishment you earned during rounds before we leave. I hope you’ve studied your five W’s. There will be a quiz.”

  Quizzes with Daniel are challenging. It’s hard to answer when my mouth is filled with his cock. I squirm a little in my seat. He obviously wants to play before the auction.

  “Yes, Sir. This is my last note, then I’ll be headed home.” I need to sign out my patients to the intern on call before I leave, but that won’t take long.

  Daniel leans down and gives another nip to my ear lobe. This one is harder and I brace against the pain. “I’ll see you there and I’ll be waiting. Class starts promptly at seven.”

  Class is our code word for a scene. He expects me to report to his home office on time, in my schoolgirl outfit, ready to be grilled on what I learned today. I press my knees together and hold back a moan.

  “You sound eager.”

  “Yes, Sir, I am.”

  “What are you most eager for? The sting of my hand or the stretch of my cock as I fill you?”

  I bit my lower lip. They are equally delicious. I could lie, but he knows me too well.

  “I need to burn, Sir.” There’s just something about stinging pain which erases all the stress from my day.

  “I see. You need the crop?”

  I wiggle in my seat. “If it pleases you, Sir.”

  He understands where I need to go and what it takes for me to fly. And Daniel’s happy to indulge me.

  He places a light, barely-there kiss to my temple with a soft brush of his lips. “I’ll be ready for you. Detention it is.” He says nothing else, releases my poor earlobe then retreats.

  Those words are almost enough to send me into a full-body orgasm right then and there. Fortunately, Daniel retreats and the door shuts behind him. I’m alone. Terribly turned on. And I still have to finish this note.

  I’m motivated to finish quickly.

  Chapter 3

  It’s not like me to run late, but Mr. Park's condition worsened right before I left. I could ask the on-call intern to take care of things, but I worry about my patients.

  I go to Mr. Park's room, complete my exam, and order a bunch of tests. We adjust his medications and I glance at my watch. It’s six thirty and there’s no way I’ll be home on time.

  Tardiness is not tolerated and I step on the gas trying to get to Daniel’s place in time to change.

  Daniel is fifteen years older than me, and while we’re not technically into age play, we’re very aware of the age gap. It works for him and it works for me.

  The room he’s set up for me in his home is not much different from my room when I was a senior in high school. There are posters on the wall and frilly things throughout. There aren’t many times when I’m sent to my room, but when I am it’s generally because I’m being punished. Or like now, when I’m racing to change out of my work scrubs into my schoolgirl uniform.

  Daniel hears me pull up his driveway. The garage door slides up. I’m only ever to park inside. He doesn’t want his neighbors seeing the young intern who spends nearly every night at his house. We’re practically living together, except we’re not.

  He’ll retreat to his study, allowing me to enter the house and head to my room. School starts the moment I put my uniform on. He’ll discipline me for being late, but he won’t intrude on the few moments it takes for me to climb out of my car and go to my room
.

  This is all the time I have to get into the proper headspace. We’re shedding our daytime roles. He’s no longer the Chief of Surgery and I’m no longer a lowly intern. He’s my professor and I’m his student.

  The transition doesn’t take long. It literally takes a minute or two to walk to my room. A few minutes more to yank off my scrubs and put on the short skirt, crop shirt, thigh high hose and Patent leather shoes.

  But it’s an important step.

  I need to shed who I am to become what we both need.

  I hear him moving around in the living room and I rush to finish my look. It’s ten minutes after seven and I’m terribly late.

  There’s a sound outside my door and I pause. I’m frozen like a mouse because he’s outside my door. Depending on his mood, he’ll enter or walk away. If he enters…I don’t want to think about that.

  There are very few times he comes into my room. When he does, I know it’s because he’s had a hard day and really needs to blow off steam. For a sexual dominant in a high stress job, that usually means a little forced non-con play.

  His breathing is heavy, ponderous, and there’s a light thud on the door. I’m barely breathing now. He’s had a good day. Nothing bad happened. But I brace for it.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  With a gulp, I answer. “Yes, Sir.”

  “You’re late.”

  “Yes, Sir, I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Do I need to come in there?”

  The thing is, I want him to come in. I love it best when Daniel comes unglued. He always has his shit together. It’s why he’s successful. But in those rare moments when he lets the animal inside of him out, I see the real him. It's awe inspiring and magnificent.

  His question is a test. If I say yes, I’m agreeing to what comes next. He always asks. It’s a formality before barging in, and required according to our agreement surrounding consensual non-consent.

  I’m the only one to see him at his worst when he unleashes his ferocity and brutality. I think it’s the best side of him, but then I get off on control. I love the feral nature he unleashes. And I love that I’m the only one who gets to see beyond the walls he puts up for the world.

 

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