The Doctor and the Naughty Girl Page 17

He caressed her cheek. “A story that’s never been told before, and won’t ever be told again—and one only a few people may ever even know about. But I get a glimpse.” He kissed the top of her head and she purred. “And each one is as sweet as the first, Amity. That pure joy on those parents’ faces as they meet that new little person for the first time? Nothing on this earth like it.”

  “Nothing on this earth like you,” she whispered against his skin.

  “Flattering your boss will get you everywhere.”

  Amity giggled, then peered up at him, her expression sobering.

  “What about when it goes… wrong?”

  The memories flooded back, the ones he put away in that steel box, where they couldn’t hurt anymore, where they wouldn’t make him doubt everything he thought he knew about life—and death. He took a deep breath, her small hand giving his belly a comforting caress.

  “Sometimes… they don’t make it. I had one die last year—perfectly healthy boy. Big kid, almost nine pounds. Went into cardiac arrest completely out of the blue at the nurse’s station. Crash team got called, but none of it mattered. He was just gone—no reason at all to it.” He pushed down the hurt that surged up suddenly, the hurt that made him want to scream with the helplessness and injustice of it. “I had to be the one—to tell them. As soon as I walked into their room, the parents, they just… somehow they just knew that my next words were going to shatter their lives. And they did.”

  Her soft kisses against his chest were a sweet balm against that terrible pain. “I’m so sorry, Dane. So, so sorry.”

  “Part of the job, right?” He pulled her further up onto his chest so he could kiss her cute little nose. “Just like you, bad girl.”

  She frowned. “Is that all I am to you?”

  “Oh, you’re a lot more than part of the job,” he said, turning to his side and flipping her around so that her soft bottom pressed to his rapidly hardening cock. He cinched an arm under her breasts, his other hand playing with the hard nipples. “And the sweetest part a man could imagine.” He nibbled on the join between her shoulder and neck. “Put your leg over my hip.”

  As she did, he slid into her wet heat, drawing a long shuddering sigh from Amity.

  Her hands closed over his, and her hips swiveled the tiniest bit.

  “No,” he whispered. “Be still. I just want to hold you. Just like this.”

  Dane needed this, to be close, to feel this woman, to have someone to share the night with.

  And as sleep swiftly overtook both of them, it came to him, the clarity of it making him sigh with relief, at last free of the burden of it.

  Steph was finally gone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You seem to like that one particular workstation, Dr. McKendrick. Is there some, uh, ergonomic feature particularly suited to you?” Cathie stopped next to him, her hand on her hip, rolling her eyes. “You don’t have to watch her all the time. She’s not gonna blow away or anything.”

  Dane was entering in patient data at one of several of the standing only computer terminals set in a line outside the row of exam rooms. He liked the end one, which afforded him a clear view down the hallway through the glass doors into the lobby. He could—just as he was doing now—watch Amity, if he chose. And he often did.

  “I don’t want to hear it, Cathie. I don’t comment on your extracurriculars, do I?”

  She lowered her voice so only Dane could hear. “This really isn’t just you getting your dick wet, is it? You’re really into her.”

  He scowled at her. “Jesus Christ, I swear you were born a man with the mouth you have, Nurse Severin.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Dane looked down, shaking his head. He waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder. “Leave me alone. Go do… nurse stuff.”

  He looked down the hallway at Amity. She was wearing a crisp white blouse and a long black skirt, and he watched her pink lips move as she talked to a patient who leaned over the lobby counter. She sat back in her chair, and her brow creased for just a moment. He knew she was sitting on a tender bottom. That very morning, in the cool of his pre-dawn bedroom, he’d finally given her that caning he’d been promising her. Ten red weals later, he’d tucked her back into bed, kissing her tears from her cheeks, his whispered order to go back to sleep the last thing he’d said before slipping out the bedroom door.

  Amity glanced up at him, her lips quirking in a quick smile before she turned her attention back to the patient. The color high in her cheeks told him she was thinking of anything but the conversation at hand.

  Though Amity had asked him not to change anything, he had—he’d gotten even stricter. Any cursing, any cross word with Cathie, and even a second late to work, and she’d be in for it. The first time had been the very next day after they’d had sex. Amity had come back to the office just before noon, and Cathie—as usual—had given her the eye-rolling disdain Amity had come to expect, even as it set her teeth on edge. Cathie had of course reported the wayward girl’s indiscretion.

  Ten minutes later, Amity found herself taken aside into one of the spare exam rooms, Dane standing close, her breast lifted in one of his hands, squeezed so hard she winced. His lecture reminding her of her promise to treat Cathie just as she would him, had left her shamefaced, her eyes threatening tears, and no doubt with a sore, throbbing boob. She learned quite quickly that just because he was fucking her didn’t mean he wouldn’t be holding her accountable for her behavior. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  Where at first, he might see her once a week—at most—soon she was spending most nights at his house. She’d even started leaving some clothes there. But it had never been anything spoken of explicitly—it had just happened organically. She’d learned to shape up quickly though in her job, and while she played the good girl at work, and had dramatically improved her performance and her behavior, her nights increasingly belonged to him. He took great pleasure in putting her through her paces, his expectations for her increasing every week, his evolving requirements ensuring she’d always have plenty of faults they’d both enjoy having him punish her for.

  Now, things were… different. He didn’t like being apart from her, and eventually she became the first thought on his mind in the mornings, and the last image as sleep finally took him at night. It was emotional territory he swore he’d never tread again—not after Steph.

  The vibration at his front pocket startled him. He pulled out his cell, and cursed under his breath. He looked at his watch and pointed at Cathie. “Mrs. Bryant should be here for her thirty-two week. I’ve gotta take this but I’ll be right back.”

  He slipped quickly into his office, connecting the call as his door closed.

  “Mr. Derrington, this is… unexpected.”

  “Dane, I thought we understood one another.”

  “I don’t know what you’re referring to. What’s going on?”

  Dane’s limbs tightened, adrenaline already pouring into his bloodstream. He’d never given Chuck his cell phone number.

  “I know you’re seeing her, and I won’t have it. You need to end it.”

  Dane took a deep breath, schooling his voice into a calmness he wasn’t even close to feeling.

  “I don’t recall giving you veto power over my personal life, Chuck. And I need to ask how you got this number.”

  “I vet everyone I’m considering helping. I don’t take chances, doctor. I learned a lot more during the vetting process than I expected—or wanted—to learn. But now it’s out in the open, and I don’t like it.” Chuck’s voice dripped with disgust. “I’m not going to let her be dragged down into your lifestyle. Your perversion. She’s my daughter.”

  “She’s also a grown woman who can decide for herself what she does with her life.”

  Chuck let go a long sigh, and when he spoke again, the smooth, confident elite was back. “Dane, look. I’m prepared to overlook this as merely a personal failing—we’re all human, right? If I have to, I can separate a
person’s failings from their skillset. I’ve done it before. It’s never too late to start doing the right thing here, the smart thing, so I’m going to put this in plain terms. You stop seeing her, for good—right now—and that door stays open for you. I’ve got the contract paperwork sitting right here on my desk.”

  “Chuck,” Dane said, rubbing his temple with two fingers. “I don’t think my personal life has any bearing whatsoever on this. Let’s just put it aside, okay? This is work—business. That’s all.”

  “No, it’s not anymore, Dane. I need you to see that, and take a step back. Think about what you’re doing. What I’m offering you, I don’t offer to just anyone. This is that golden ticket, doctor. Look, to be honest, I don’t really care what fucked-up shit you get up to in your personal life, as long as you keep it quiet. But I’ll be damned if it’s going to be with my daughter. I know you’re not a father, so perhaps you don’t understand this, but it’s how it is.”

  “This is… bullshit.” Dane cleared his throat. “Okay, say I’m interested—and I’m not saying I am. What exactly are we talking about here? This ‘door’ as you put it.”

  “Assistant director of OB operations. You won’t have to see patients anymore, no more being on call. Your salary will more than double—and that’s before bonuses kick in.”

  Jesus Christ.

  Chuck continued. “Jack Delaney’s been director of obstetrics and gynecology since before the fucking earth cooled. He’s gonna retire soon, it’s only a matter of time. That’s the real open door.”

  “I’m not even close to qualified for director, and you know it.”

  “Nope, not where you are now. But that all changes when you become assistant director. You know how this shit works. Most of these directors and executives didn’t get where they are because they’re excellent physicians—there are thousands of great doctors. These directors and executives get there through open doors. You getting me on this?”

  “Chuck—”

  “You think this over for a few days. Think long and hard. I’m in New York until the end of the week. I’ll bring the contract to you first thing Monday morning. Make this all official like.” Chuck’s voice lowered to a murmur. “You’re a smart man. It’s your choice, doctor. Make the right one.”

  Then the line went dead.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The rain pelted against the window relentlessly, the wind from the first big fall windstorm driving it even harder. Dane sat against several pillows piled against his headboard, Amity’s back to him, tucked between his legs, his arms around her. Her marks had faded but the skin of her back was still warm to the touch.

  He’d given her a long, thorough whipping of her ass and upper back with his calf-skin flogger, the punishment leaving her glassy-eyed and sweetly malleable as he’d made her crouch on the bed, a lost moan drawn from her as he’d slid deep inside her.

  “You know you’ve spent the night here every night for the past week—at least.”

  Amity squirmed against him, his wet genitals pressed against her soft, warm bottom. “Are you complaining?”

  “I could think of much worse ways to pass the night.”

  She gave his arm a playful slap. “Sadist.”

  Dane laughed, hoping it didn’t sound as hollow as it felt.

  You need to tell her.

  There had to be a way out of this. He had to figure out the angle, the key to all of this, yet everything came back to one thing—the bewitching girl in his arms.

  “Amity, turn around. I need to tell you something.”

  He helped her to her knees so she faced him, sitting on her heels, kneeling between his widespread knees, the position emphasizing the flare of her broad hips, the sweet little curve of her belly. She rested her hands in her lap, the heavy breasts huddling between her arms.

  “God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, caressing the line of her hip. “Unbelievable.”

  She lowered her gaze, blushing prettily. “Thank you, sir.”

  Dane inhaled a long breath, willing him to have the courage to say it. “I talked to your father today.”

  Her gaze shot up, her mouth dropping open. “You… what did he say?”

  Does she already know?

  “He knows about us—and he doesn’t approve. At all.”

  Something flickered through her gaze, and she looked away, the color draining from her cheeks just a little.

  “I—well, he gave me an ultimatum, Amity. He doesn’t want me seeing you anymore, and if I don’t break it off… he’s dangling a promotion in front of me. If I don’t play ball, it’s gone.”

  “Promotion? What kind of promotion?”

  “Assistant director, double the pay, plus bonuses.”

  “Are… are you going to take it?” Her eyes were bright with tears. “What did you tell him?”

  “I’m not taking the promotion. He can give it to somebody else. I’ll get other chances,” he lied.

  Dane knew exactly what saying no to Chuck Derrington meant.

  She seemed to brighten up at that, but she couldn’t quite submerge the tension in her smile. “He’ll… just have to get used to it. Right? I’m not his little girl anymore.”

  “That’s right,” Dane said, reaching for her. She sprang against him, the soft pillows of her breasts against his chest making him close his eyes in bliss. “You’re my girl now.”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered against him. “I’m tired, sir. Can we go to sleep?”

  “Of course, sweetie.”

  He tucked her curvy little body against him, the welcoming press of her bottom against his groin stirring his cock to life once more. He ignored it though, just as he tried to ignore the strained stillness that had seemed to come over the girl in his arms. Sleep dragged him down to oblivion before he could contemplate why.

  When Dane woke later, in the darkest part of the night, the rain still pattering against the windows, he stayed very still, not letting Amity know he’d awoken. He watched her in the quiet solitude of that room as she laid there, staring at the ceiling, the bed washed in the ghostly wavering illumination of the streetlight shining through swaying tree branches, trails of silent tears streaming down her face.

  Chapter Seventeen

  He was glad he had a warm coffee cup for each hand. The parking structure was colder than a witch’s tit.

  Dane found a spot near where he knew Amity liked to park. It was almost seven, and she hadn’t been late in weeks. Maybe she’d give him a fresh excuse to tan that beautiful bottom.

  “Day’s looking up,” he muttered.

  He was going to figure out a way to do this, a way to thread that needle. He was a smart man—Derrington had at least been right about that part. There was no way Dane was going to play that man’s game though.

  Her car finally appeared, creeping down the row of vehicles. He stepped out from behind a big Ford parked next to her spot. He turned to her and tapped his watch, hoping he’d already gotten her heart galloping. She was late—and he was looking forward to holding her accountable for that offense. He looked forward to just about everything with Amity.

  Her car pulled in, idling for a moment, then shutting off. Dane strolled over to her as she stepped out. Her hair was down, unusual for her. Rather than her usual slacks or skirts, she was in a pair of loose jeans and sneakers, a gray University of Washington sweatshirt doing its best to disguise the swell of her breasts. She turned to him, and immediately he saw it in her eyes.

  Something was wrong.

  “Are you sick?” He pressed one of the coffees into her hand. “You aren’t even dressed. What happened?”

  “Nothing.” She sipped the hot coffee, gasping quietly at the heat against her lips.

  He tried a different tack, lowering his voice to a rumble. “You’re late, Amity.”

  Those big brown eyes looked up at him. “I didn’t come in to work.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” He stepped close, looking down upon her, wondering what was
going on behind those eyes. “We definitely will be talking about this today. This is unacceptable.”

  But it was as if the old Amity was gone. There was no dilation of the pupils, no dropped gaze, no pretty blush. There were only those eyes, regarding him steadily. She was a stranger.

  “I can’t work here anymore, Dane.”

  “What?” He scanned her eyes, and she kept her gaze upon him. “You—you’re serious? Why?”

  “It’s the right thing—the best thing.”

  “I—fuck.” Of all the things he’d expected out of her, this was dead last on the list. “Look, don’t worry. We’ll talk about this tonight—come over, and we’ll figure out something else for you.”

  “I’m not coming over.”

  “I don’t recall giving you a choice, girl.”

  Oh, no…

  “No more ‘girl,’ no more ‘sir.’” Her eyes welled with tears then, and she looked away, holding a hand to her mouth. “I can’t do this anymore, Dane. Any of it.”

  She opened her door and stepped in. Her window was rolled down, so he closed his hand over the door, preventing her from closing the door.

  Amity looked at his hand—then looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Dane.”

  He set his coffee on the top of the car, letting her close the door. He dropped to a squat, laying both arms along the door. “Wait, Amity. Come on, we can talk about this. Where are you going? Why are you doing this?”

  The lump in Dane’s throat was getting more painful by the second, and he vainly tried to swallow it away.

  She laid her arms across her steering wheel, leaning her forehead against them, now crying openly.

  “Amity, what in God’s name has gotten into you?”

  “You don’t understand him, Dane, but I do. He’ll ruin you. If you don’t give him what he wants, he’ll destroy your career. I hate him. I’ve seen him to do it to other people who’ve crossed him.”

  Fucking Derrington.

  “I don’t care about him. It’s only a promotion. I’ll just keep my head down and be patient. It’ll be fine. You—you don’t need to do this.”