by Anya Summers
“Absolutely,” Mrs. Gregory replied with a smile. “And I’ll leave you to your dinner. Holler if you need anything, I’ve got to get supper for the dining room.”
“Thanks, Mrs. G,” the cowboys said with appreciation.
“Okay, that all sounds great. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Gregory,” Grace said, feeling a bit bamboozled by the group.
“You too, honey. I’ll be in touch this week.” With that, Mrs. Gregory left them in the private dining room.
“So Grace, why don’t I remember you from school if you lived with Joe?” The question came from Lincoln, his shaggy, dark brown hair almost black, and weeks beyond needing a trim. He exuded a calm confidence, with the air of a man’s man who made no bones about being one. He was positioned across from Grace at the long rectangular oak table in a gleaming pecan brown. Dangling from the ceiling above was an illuminated chandelier that had been fashioned out of deer horns. The décor gave the formal dining room a rustic feel.
“I expressed interest in medicine at an early age. Even before I moved here. Grandpa Joe enrolled me in a preparatory boarding school that’s located back east, in New York state. I spent the summers here, typically helping out at the office. But I didn’t really have any friends here.” Grace shrugged. The arrangement had made her time living here unimaginably lonely. She had had friends in school, of course, but they had lived all over the country.
“Well, you’ve got the lot of us.” Mav winked. And oh, he was a heartbreaker.
“Where did you work before inheriting the Doc’s practice?” Duncan asked, taking a swig of his beer.
“Denver Memorial. It’s where I did my residency in the ER. They brought me on as an attending physician in the emergency room when I completed my residency.”
The men exchanged a few shocked glances. What, did they think she had done nothing more than check for the flu and administer shots? Working in the emergency room was non-stop action. She’d had patients beyond saving but had still worked like hell to try and keep them breathing. But you didn’t always succeed, and every loss took a piece of your soul.
“The emergency room? That’s where you worked?” Lincoln asked, his black brows raised in surprise.
She nodded. “Yep. It was always fast paced. I loved the adrenaline rush. It was always different each night.”
“You’ve likely seen a lot,” Emmett commented with a thoughtful expression.
“And then some… heart attacks, strokes, broken bones, the gang bangers with bullet holes ripping their organs to shreds, accident victims. Most of what you see, you have let go of it pretty quick, otherwise you’re not going to be able to do your job. It’s called the emergency room for a reason,” she replied. She didn’t add how she had begun to lose the excited rush on the job. It had become a chore to the point where she’d been wishing for a slower pace, to be able to really get to know patients so that she could treat them with more than band-aid measures.
“Not much surprises you then, does it?” Colt asked with a considering glance.
“Oh, I’m surprised from time to time,” she said, and shot a glance at Emmett, the man who surprised her most out of everything she had experienced since moving here.
Emmett watched her all throughout dinner. She never relaxed around all of them. He wasn’t sure whether his buddies picked up on that. There was a stiffness that never left her spine or shoulders. Did his buddies not see the underlying shyness? Upon first meeting her, he’d thought she was simply reserved, but that wasn’t it at all. In social situations, the shyness she attempted to hide beneath the veneer of professionalism was present.
Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t tough as nails. When she described the types of cases she treated in the emergency room, the thought that she had been exposed to that much grim violence made his gut clench. There was a part of him that wanted to shield her from the seedier sides of life; protect her from the darkness.
What would she say if she realized that he, the confirmed bachelor, was considering permanence—considering claiming her as his submissive, and not just for a night? She was the most passionate, sensual woman of his acquaintance. And he’d not even yet felt the firm clasp of her cunt around his dick.
Any time she glanced his way, a blush appeared on her cheeks. It charmed him. She charmed him, with her stiff formalities and prim manners. And he fucking loved the way she tasted, and the little mewls she made in the back of her throat as she climaxed. He had walked from his cabin with the hope that he could get her to drive him home. He didn’t want her to keep avoiding him like she had this week.
The doctor didn’t realize that every man here—every Dom—desired her, was imagining her being under his control as he fucked her senseless.
She’d not told him no earlier today in her office. In his mind, that was progress.
Grace had a healthy appetite, and had finished more of her dinner than Emmett would have thought. Nor did she turn down Mrs. Gregory’s cherry cobbler for dessert. He liked that about her. When a woman had a healthy appetite, that usually extended into other areas of her life—for instance, the bedroom.
Emmett wanted to snarl at each of his friends throughout the long dinner. They each laid the flirtatious charm on thick for Grace. It was almost comical to behold: the refined, prim doctor, who stood perhaps an inch or so above five feet tall, surrounded by big men, much like a queen holding court with her subjects.
It was Grace who ended the evening. “Thank you for dinner, all of you. I need to be heading home. Sadly, I have an early start in the morning at the office.”
“I’ll walk you out.” Colt rose, tossing his napkin on his plate.
“It was nice meeting all of you,” Grace said to the room with a friendly smile. Her gaze landed on Emmett’s, and the air sizzled.
That was his cue to leave. Emmett stood, ignoring his friends, and moved to her side. “I would appreciate the ride home, doc.”
Colt blasted a peeved glance his way before dropping it in favor of a charming smile. “After you.” He gestured toward the door, and waited for Grace to head in that direction.
Emmett ground his teeth when Colt put his hand on her lower back and steered her toward the front door, acting like a polite gentleman. He walked behind them, a possessive fury roiling within his chest. He wanted to not merely remove Colt’s hand but break the damn thing for him even thinking he could touch her.
What the hell was wrong with him? He was seething, and also worried, because he never got bent out of shape over a woman. It was a unique experience for Emmett. Especially since the good doctor wasn’t fawning all over him like most women did. Instead, the contrary woman tried to act like nothing had happened after he’d sucked her sweet pussy.
At her luxury vehicle in a crimson red, Colt held the driver side door open for her. The bastard smiled with flirtatious charm—the same he had used in the past on a sub or two to get them out of their panties. And Grace responded to his flirting with pretty pink blushes and demure smiles.
Fuck. It drove Emmett crazy.
Emmett was aware he wasn’t the most personable, people-friendly individual in the world. Hell, he lived in a cabin in the woods away from people for a reason. He liked his space. But watching Grace respond to Colt, he wondered if that sophistication was what she wanted in a man. That refined sensibility, at least on the surface, because Emmett knew that as a Dom, Colt was downright authoritarian, and as a cowboy, he could rope a steer in under a minute with the best of them. He didn’t sit in his fancy office all day. Although, Emmett and the boys did give him shit about working behind a desk.
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he heard Colt say when he opened the passenger side door. His ears pricked up for Grace’s response.
“That would be nice,” she replied.
Oh it would, huh?
The moment they arrived at his place, he would show her exactly what it was to hunger for and crave his touch. He would make it so that no man, be he Dom or straight vanilla,
would do but him. Once settled into the seat, he slammed the door shut. Grace started a little, like she was on edge having him in her car.
“Drive safe,” Colt said, then pegged Emmett with a victorious smirk.
The bet had started off as something of a game. The only problem was, Emmett was no longer playing. Claiming Grace as his sub, training her, had become the central focus of his world.
“Do you need help with your seatbelt?” she asked, glancing his way.
He shot her a caustic glare. “Just drive. It will be fine for the short distance from here to my cabin.”
She studied him pensively, the dashboard lights illuminating the sweet oval of her face, before she sighed. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Over? Not hardly, doc. If things progressed the way he intended, he would have her in his bed tonight.
10
Dinner had been interesting. The food had been amazing. Grace had never had a better beef wellington. But it had been the dynamics of the cowboys that intrigued her most. The friendships were obvious. Colt was the boss, the owner of the ranch, but he wasn’t arrogant in that he listened, praised, and was congenial with the men who worked for him.
It was rare to find that in a boss: a true leader.
And then there was her quietly brooding passenger. The man had walked from his cabin to the main ranch. It was at least a couple of miles of winding, forest road. Emmett was the most unique man of her acquaintance. He was hard headed, and liked to brood, but she had also watched him in the stables, and seen the way he had given his horse, King Louie, an apple, and the obvious affection he had for the horse—and the horse for him.
“You need to be careful about overexerting yourself. Right now, while your body is recovering, it’s too easy to overextend it and cause further damage.”
Emmett grunted.
Okay, so he was resorting to the surly, ill-tempered cowboy that she’d first met. That worked for Grace. It meant she could maintain emotional distance. Not to mention it would be easier if he was all moody, as then she would not allow what had happened in her office today to happen again.
She pulled up alongside his truck in front of his cabin. “Here you go. Make sure you call the orthopedic surgeon I referred you to, and get the MRI on that shoulder.”
He opened the door and groaned as if he was in pain.
“Emmett. Dammit, you did hurt yourself. Here, let me help you.” She killed the engine and pocketed her keys.
She would get him inside, make sure he took the ibuprofen at the bare minimum, and then leave. She even left her purse in the car, figuring she would be back out in just a few minutes, and it would be easier to get him inside without it in the way. Grace rounded the front hood of her car, going to the passenger side.
“Here. Nice and easy.” She wrapped her arm under his non-injured one, ignoring how her hand lay on his bare obliques, which rippled at her touch. She beat back the desire to caress all that male flesh, and helped him climb out of her car.
He grunted his assent. The man was too moody for his own good. When he was standing, she held him firm against her side and said, “Lean on me a little.” She helped him up the wooden steps to the front door, opened the screen door and said, “Keys.”
“In my pocket. Can you get them?” he said in a strained voice.
“Which side?”
“The right.”
She could have made him stand on his own to retrieve his keys, but he tugged at her internal need to care for others. It was part of why she had become a doctor. With a sigh, she reached into his pocket, ignoring the firm flesh she grazed through the fabric, until her hand slid around cool metal keys. Showing massive restraint, masking her heated tremor at feeling his erection, she withdrew her hand slowly.
Once she got him inside, she tossed the keys into a bowl near the door.
“Let’s get you onto the couch. I’ll get your medicines and make sure you’re comfortable before I leave.” He nodded curtly, like it was taking all his effort to remain standing. She deposited him on the couch. “Where are the prescriptions?”
He jerked his chin toward the kitchen. “On the counter, next to the sink.”
She padded over and located the pills. Grace filled a glass with some water to wash them down with, and headed into the living room with all of it. Emmett’s hot gaze never left her form. It made her belly clench, because he looked at her as if she were an edible snack he wanted to savor.
Once she reached his side, she held the pills out. “Take them. And then I think you need to rest.”
“You’re going out with Colt tomorrow night, on a date?” he asked, swallowing the pills with a drink of water. But that ice blue gaze bored into her, damning her with a look.
“I am.”
“Why? Is it because you think he’s more suited, more willing to let you go with a bat of your lashes?”
“He’s a perfectly nice gentleman,” she defended her decision to go out with Colt the following night.
“And I’m not? That’s the type of man you want? A pencil pusher who doesn’t know what you need? When I know exactly how to make you scream in ecstasy, have had you flood my mouth with your cream?”
“I don’t know you.” It was the only excuse she could come up with under his hot, angry glare.
“The hell you don’t,” he snarled, and yanked her one-handed onto his lap. Her breath expelled in a rush as he lowered his head until their faces were an inch apart. “You know I crave that sweet pussy of yours, that I will give you the passion you need, that I want to claim you as my submissive, train you in the lifestyle, show you what true ecstasy is like.”
She trembled against him. In a small whisper, she denied it. “But that’s not me knowing you, or you being interested in my life.”
“Babe, I work with horses and steers as the second lead wrangler on a dude ranch that caters to tourists. There’s not much more to it than that. I like my life on the ranch, and as a Dom, and can tell you want me too. I see that rapid pulse in the base of your throat, the way your pupils are dilated, and your nipples are beaded into hard points at the thought of submitting to me. I’d love to suck on those tits of yours.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want you, and I believe you want me too. I’ve been thinking about the way you tasted all day long. Do you know how many times I’ve had to jack off thinking about you? And how I bet if I slipped my hand down the front of your jeans, I’d find you wet and ready for me?”
True story. He would. Grace didn’t know what it was about the grumpy cowboy that drove her wild. She should have feelings toward his friend, Colt. He was respectable, and nice. But he didn’t make her body heat the way Emmett could with a simple glance in her direction.
“Deny it if you can.”
He held her, his hand toying with the loose ends of her hair. She understood that if she didn’t walk away now, she likely never would. “This can’t happen, you’re a patient, you’re—”
“The only man who can make you climax screaming with pleasure. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been your patient. You’re sending me on to a specialist, remember? That means I am no longer your patient. And more than that, I know you want me to, I can feel it.”
“You don’t know me,” she protested and started to squirm away, for all the good it did her. Because now she felt the firm ridge of his erection beneath her bottom, and it caused torrents of need to flood her veins.
“No? You don’t think so? At first, I thought you were just cold and a bit impersonal with people. It wasn’t until I watched you at dinner tonight that I saw it.”
“Saw what?” The way he was looking at her, the warmth, the desire in his expression, battered against her defenses.
“That you’re shy. For all your bluster and independence, you’re achingly shy. Most people wouldn’t pick up on it, and would just consider you aloof. How am I doing so far?” he tugged on the strand of hair he had wrapped around his fingers.
Bingo. It was a part of herself she had worked hard over the years to be rid of. In the emergency room, she hadn’t had the time for shyness. But that didn’t eliminate the crippling shyness she felt in social situations.
“Emmett,” she sighed with a shake of her head.
“Remove your top and bra, let me suck on your sweet tits,” Emmett said in a low bedroom voice that held a firm command.
An erotic thrill shot through her system, and her pussy throbbed at his words. She searched his gaze, the patience and carnal hunger in his eyes, dark with lust.
This was it: the moment of truth, to decide whether to run away from what he was offering, or grab it with both hands. She ached for him. Yearned to feel all the hard inches currently beneath her bottom to fill her up and stroke deep.
And therein lay the problem. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted another man. Grace relied on logic, reason, and science. Her attraction to Emmett was none of those things, it defied all logic and reason. That made her not trust the connection. Why would she, when it was foreign to her?
“Well, doc?” Emmett dared.
Grace climbed off his lap. He released her, his eyes calling her a fool.
As if in a trance, her gaze trained on him, she slipped the cardigan off and then drew the cami up, inch by inch. In all her thirty-two years, she had never stripped for a man this way. It gave her an erotic thrill to see the blue in his gaze darken with lust when she pulled her top off over her head and dropped it onto the hardwood floor at her feet.
“Now the bra,” he commanded.
She reached behind her and unclasped the hooks, lowered the straps of the white lace bra, and dropped it on the floor, on top of the camisole. Emmett’s hungry gaze lowered to her chest. He licked his lips.
“I knew they’d be pretty but Jesus, your tits are gorgeous.”
Her hands went to the waistband of her jeans before he could reach for her. She unfastened and unzipped, before shoving her jeans and panties down. Stepping out of her flats, she removed every stitch of clothing until she stood nude before him.
