OnlyatTheCavern (3 page)

What? He could have asked her out? Fit time with her into
his schedule while he was hunting Smithwick? Did a woman with her tastes even
engage in an activity as mundane as dating?

Dr. Jovanovich was so out of his league. His past
experiences with women were either the occasional casual fling, never lasting
more than a few dates, or a one-night stand here and there. And then there were
the years spent pining for a woman who had only looked at him as a friend.
Brett Briggs’s marriage to Lucian Kilsgaard’s brother effectively ended all
dreams of her coming back to the city and finding a place in his arms. Once he
had come to terms with that reality, the only time the thought of female
companionship crossed his mind was when he was horny, and his hand was
sufficient to scratch that itch.

Now here stood the doc. A woman who he was certain carried a
PhD in male/female relationships. A woman who could chew him up and spit him
out and make him ask for more His idea of wild-crazy-sexy probably didn’t rate
a raised eyebrow on her Richter scale.

But he wanted to find out. He wanted to sample a tiny morsel
of what he knew Mistress Jasmina could provide almost as badly as he wanted to
see Smithwick behind bars.

The flutter of her fingers as she worked loose the bandage
across his chest made him bite back a moan of pleasure. Only the sight of the
red slash running from the center of his sternum to the edge of his left nipple
tempered his desire.

“Looking good,” she murmured. “An inch deeper, the story
would have been much different. You were lucky. Many times over.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

The examination continued with a check of his vitals and a
glance into his eyes with a bright light. She nodded in response to whatever
she saw, then reached out, spearing her fingers into his hair. With the same
gentle touch she used with his feet, she rubbed and pressed all over his scalp.
With the bare curve of her neck mere inches away, the clean scent of her skin
mixed with the mellow sensation of her hands made his blood hum in his veins.
He detected no other perfumes or artificial scents, just pure Jasmina.

He felt his lips part and his tongue wanted to lick along
the ridge of her collarbone. He wanted to sink his teeth into the plump pillow
of her bare earlobe, just to hear that quiet little gasp of air again.

She hit a sore spot on his scalp and he hissed. She moved
her touch lower to press against the stiff muscles at the base of his skull and
this time he could not contain a groan of pleasure. The woman was killing him.
“You’ve got magic fingers there, Doc. I think you missed your calling as a
masseuse.”

To his disappointment, she stepped back with a tiny smile
flirting on her lips. “Your physical injuries will heal just fine. What I’m
mostly concerned about is what’s going on with your brain.”

“Are you questioning my mental capacity? Gee, thanks, Doc.”

“Maybe.” He loved the way her eyes lit up with her
amusement. “In all seriousness, head trauma is not something I take lightly. I
don’t know how hard, or on what exactly, you might have hit your head when you
fell. You could have a brain bleed or swelling I can’t detect with a regular
exam. As a precaution I’m going to have a CT scan performed. If all looks well,
you can be released this evening.”

For the first time since he woke he became concerned. “If? I
don’t like the sound of that word. What happens if ‘if’ doesn’t look well?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. My gut tells me
all is well, but I want to be certain. It’s my job to be thorough, Captain
DeWinter.”

“Marco. Please call me Marco.”
And preferably in a
throaty moan as you ride my cock.

He shoved the image aside. “And I get it, Doc. I do. You’re
good at your job. So if the X-ray of my head looks good, I can walk out
tonight?”

“Not exactly. To prevent further injury, you need to keep
off your feet for a week.”

“A week?” He struggled to sit up. “Sorry, Doc, but I have to
work. I’m just as dedicated to my job as you are to yours.”

She pushed against his chest, forcing him back down. “I can
see by your injuries that you are dedicated, but you have to allow your ankles
to heal. If they give out, you risk greater injury to the rest of your body.
Including your thick skull. One week. I’ll tell your commander too, knowing
full well you both will dismiss my orders. But if I see you back in the ER
because you broke your ankle or cracked your head open, I’ll tie you to the bed
myself.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked, and this time he didn’t hide
the blatant rasp of desire that deepened his voice at the mention of her
binding him in any fashion.

To her credit, she didn’t blush or stammer. Instead she held
his gaze with the same calculating look on her face she had when he had spotted
her in The Cavern the month before. Right before she dug her nails into his
side and threatened him bodily harm if he breathed a word about her alter ego.

“Do not test me. Captain.” She collected her clipboard and
began writing notations across the pages. “A nurse will be in shortly to
prepare you for imaging. After the scan, we’ll send you something to eat. Lucky
for you, it’s green Jell-O today. I’m also going to write you a prescription
for Lisinopril.”

“What’s that for?”

“Your high blood pressure.”

“I have high blood pressure?”

Her snort of laughter was so charming. “Why am I not
surprised? It’s one-sixty over a hundred, and it’s held steady since you’ve
arrived.”

“I take it that’s not good?”

“Only if you want to suffer from a stroke. With a change in
diet, medication and a decrease in stress, you should be able to manage it.”

“Decrease my stress? Fat chance. You did see who my
supervisor is. There’s a better chance that I will actually take the entire
week off like you want.”

“Captain.” She folded her arms across her chest and nailed
him with a stare that struck him right in his overworked heart. “I hate to
break it to you, but you are not invincible. You might have survived a
three-story fall today. Do not make the mistake of thinking you will survive
the next. You’re a grown man who does not need a lecture, so instead I will
make a wish for you. I hope over the next few days you’ll take a moment to put
some priorities in order. Despite being an asshole on occasion, you’re a good
guy.”

He swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat.
“Would you miss me, if I was gone from this world?”

After several slow blinks her lips twitched. Ah, there it
was. That tiny hint of a smile that warmed her eyes. “Of course. You bring me
some of my most interesting patients. But I think there is someone who will
miss you more. You’ve had a visitor pacing the floor for the last hour.”

A visitor? “Who?”

She went to the door and waved to whoever was waiting in the
hall. A young woman came barreling through the doorway. Dark shadows made the
red rimming her eyes appear even more harsh, and sections of black hair spilled
from her ponytail in a tangled mess. She wore her waitress uniform from the
diner, the apron still tied around her hips, confirming that she had raced to
the hospital in the middle of her morning shift. Hours of work missed that
Marco knew she couldn’t afford.

Ah fuck. Abby. He closed his eyes on a groan. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be, you asshole.” His baby sister drew up short
by the side of the bed. Anger burned across her cheeks in red patches and her
nostrils flared as her gaze took in his condition. She glanced back at the
doctor. “Are you sure he’ll live?”

The doc shrugged. “For now.”

“Good.” Abby punched him in the biceps.

“Ow,” he hollered. “Careful. I’m tender.”

“I’ll tender you.” She slapped him again. “What the fuck
were you thinking?”

“Language. Please.” He glanced over his sister’s shoulder to
see Dr. Jovanovich ease out of the room with her little smile. “I was doing my
job.”

“Yeah, right. Cassidy told me everything. You almost died
chasing after one of Smithwick’s men. And a lackey at that.”

“But I didn’t die.”

“You could have.” She flopped down on the mattress near his
hip. “Marco, you have to stop. It’s been three years. Smithwick has money and
men and weapons, and you only have the stupid city police force.”

“And Coulter, and the rest of my team.”

“Cassidy isn’t enough.”

“Well they’re all I’ve got,” he growled then released a
weary sigh. “You know I have to finish this, Abs.”

“Why does it have to be you?”

“Because I’m the best. And I won’t stop until he’s caught.”
He reached out and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“It won’t bring them back, you know,” she whispered in a
small voice as her dark eyes grew watery. “And I don’t want you to join them.”

Along Abby’s forearms she carried the scars of the auto
accident that almost took her life. She refused to cover them up, answering any
who questioned her with stark honesty that they were the direct result of drugs
and stupidity. The drug use was compliments of her boyfriend. The stupidity
part she claimed for choosing to stand by him even when he made the shift from
user to seller. And when he hadn’t sold enough to satisfy Smithwick’s henchmen,
they had forced the car she had been riding in into a highway barrier at
seventy-five miles an hour. Of the five people in the car, only Abby and her
best friend’s boyfriend walked out alive. Or at least Abby had. The boy would
be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

His little sister had gone from a starry-eyed young woman to
a jaded adult in the blink of an eye. It was the investigation of the crash
that led the police to their first solid lead to the mastermind behind the
rising drug scene in the city. And it was then that Marco vowed to personally
stop the man who dared to hurt his family and the families of others who had
been hurt by those working under Smithwick’s manipulations.

He never declared himself a saint, or the self-appointed
savior of the city, but he never backed away from a challenge. That wasn’t
going to change now.

“I know it won’t bring them back, Abby. But it’s my job to
protect this city the best way I can. I can’t stop when I’m so close to nailing
him.”

She sniffed. “You’ve been saying that for over a year.”

“It’s true.”

“Damn straight it’s true,” Coulter said as he entered the
room. “I heard the doc tell Asante that you’re out for two weeks. That sucks.”

“That’s what she said. She knows that’s not going to
happen.”

“Marco,” his sister chided.

“I said I’d try, but the woman’s smart. She understands the
game.”

“And she’s hot too,” Coulter added. “Why have I never
noticed that before? And she looks familiar.”

No way was Marco going to say where Coulter would have seen
her. “Because we’ve been to the ER on other cases many times before. So you
never told me what happened with Konkle after I fell.”

Coulter chuckled and clapped his hands together.
“Physically, he got away, however, you tore his shirt when you fell. The
section that came down with you had his cellphone in the front pocket.”

“Yes,” Marco hissed. “Tell me there was something good in
it.”

“We’re working on it.” He slid a meaningful glance at Abby.
“Benny’s trying to download as much information as possible before service is
canceled. What he’s found so far looks good.”

“I want a full report immediately.”

“No,” Abby all but shouted. “No work. Dr. Jo told you to
rest. I heard that much from standing outside the door.”

“Dr. Jo?”

She nodded. “She said I could call her that. I like her. She
was the only person who would answer my questions and not treat me like a
child.”

“Abby—”

“No. You’re going to heal and become stronger. And you’re
going to remember that life isn’t all about work. When I was hurt, you made me
get off my ass and reconnect with the world. Now it’s your turn. You owe me.”

He started to scoff, but when he saw the fear and worry in
her eyes, his chest caved in and grew hollow. That look reminded him so much of
their mother, and he had certainly given her enough cause to worry about his
welfare throughout his wild youth. Cancer took their mother before he graduated
from college, and their father had moved to Arizona, unable to remain in the
home they had shared. His sister was really the only family he had left.

“I will stay off my feet for a few days,” he conceded as he
reached for Abby’s hand. “But I have to stay in contact with my team. I’ll go
insane not knowing what’s going on.”

“Fine. And I’ll be with you the entire time to help you out
around the house.”

“You don’t have to do that. I know you have work to get to.”

“We shall see.” For the first time since she burst through
the door, she smiled. “It’ll be fun. Maybe we’ll find you a hobby.”

The door opened and Dr. Jovanovich stepped in, followed by
an orderly. “Ready to get your head examined, Captain?”

Hmm. Doc’s question might be more accurate than the joke she
intended. Not only was he willing to take time away from work, he also had an
idea of how he could best occupy his thoughts during his “vacation”.

He felt his lips stretch into a predatory grin. “I am putty
in your hands, Doc.”

Jasmine ran her finger over the label on the medical folder
and shook her head. Marco DeWinter. The man had more charm than one person had
any right to. With the touch of gray in his black hair, square jaw and slim
build, he looked like James Bond, but he dressed like a college English
professor. A sexy combination in her book. He had that rare ability to calm the
most frantic person one moment and put a major smack-down on another the next,
all while wearing a smile the entire time. Whenever she saw him, he was always
cool and in control.

Well, almost every time.

A trickle of laughter bubbled in her belly as she recalled
the look on his face when he had stumbled upon her at The Cavern. Of course she
had been equally mortified at being found out at her favorite hangout. Her
nights spent as a dominatrix were not something she announced to the general
public. If her family discovered her secret, the term “freak out” would be a
gross understatement. As for her work colleagues, the frat-boy mentality was
not something she wanted turned in her direction. To the other doctors, she was
a void. She came, did her job and left with a minimum of fuss. That was why the
nurses loved her. She didn’t question their ability and they didn’t question
hers.

Once the flare of shock of being discovered had faded, she
had enjoyed needling the captain. For all he had seen as a cop in the big city,
his bug-eyed expression conveyed just how much her appearance had scandalized
him. And intrigued him. The hard-on he had sprouted both that night and when
she had examined him made no mistake of his interest.

Poor man. His innuendos might suggest he was willing to play
her game, but he hadn’t a clue what it meant to be truly submissive. However,
the battle to win his compliance was bound to be epic. Men like DeWinter never
relinquished total control. He had a single-minded focus on his job, blinding
him to everything else in existence. That type of focus, while admirable, did
not lend itself to the ability to give up control to another.

In the fifteen years she had been engaged in the lifestyle,
she’d met her fair share of men who talked a good game but changed their tune
after the first few encounters. She had quickly grown tired of men using her to
scratch their kinky itch and then wanting to turn the tables and show the
“little woman” who was boss. Experience had made her picky about whom she
touched and who was allowed to touch her. It was going to take more than a
killer grin and a verbal promise to obey to earn her respect in the playroom.

Pity though. He was quite hunky.

She handed off the good captain’s file to the admin, then
retrieved two walking casts from the supply closet before heading toward his
room to see him off. Although another twenty-four hours of enforced bedrest
would do him good, his test results were all good, and there really wasn’t any
reason for him to stay the night, despite the nurses’ protests. They did enjoy
flirting with the man. Fortunately for DeWinter, his sister was more than ready
to force him into resting for at least a night or two, and Jasmine was not
above encouraging the girl to be more demanding in the execution of her orders.
He was a harbinger of all of the signs. Stroke, heart disease, mental
exhaustion, slight but present. Whether he appreciated it or not, his sister’s
bullying might just save his life.

The door to his room was closed and she knocked to announce
her arrival. The deep-voiced reply to enter sent a smattering of goose bumps up
her arms. She’d have to be dead not to appreciate the sexy huskiness in his
tone.

She cracked open the door to see him sitting on the edge of
the bed, buttoning up his shirt. The edges of the white button-down framed the
bandage that stretched across his chest. Around the gauze and down his belly
lay a soft pelt of dark hair, exactly as she expected when she first saw him
shirtless. She would have been surprised if the captain engaged in the habit of
manscaping. Most of the men she saw in the club were waxed or shaved to
baby-soft perfection. She had no preference either way. Sensual torture could
be administered just the same whether on bare skin or with a little fur.

“Oh hey, Doc.” He interrupted her daydream of running her
fingers through his chest hair. She really needed to keep her focus. “I thought
you were my sister.”

“She went to bring her car closer to the entrance.”

“And probably planning diabolical ideas about how to get me
to stay off my feet. I saw how she hung on to your every word.”

“She’s a smart girl. And she loves you.”

He emitted a disgruntled harrumph, but his eyes sparkled
with reciprocal affection. He nodded to the boots in her hands. “What are
those?”

She smiled and set them on the bed by his hip. He had
showered since she delivered the good news of his positive CT scan, and the
clean scent of his soap cut through the antiseptic smell of the hospital room
in the most pleasant way. If they were anywhere else, she’d take the risk and
lean over to inhale the delicious scent right from his warm skin followed by a
tongue bath over the pulse point on his neck. Talk about giving a new meaning
to the term “bedside manner”.

Focus. Focus.

“These are walking casts. I know you’re going to pitch a fit
about being wheeled out in a chair, with these babies on, you’ll have a good,
showy excuse for why you can’t walk out of here on your own. You can take them
off once you get home.”

“What makes you think I’m going to pitch a fit?”

She raised her brow.

“I may politely disobey your request, but I don’t pitch
fits.”

“Right. Just sit tight. I’ll strap them on for you.” She rolled
a stool over to begin her work. “If you’d like, I can wrap your head in
bandages and put your arm in a sling. Make you look really heroic.”

The contemplative look on his face made her smile. He sighed
and shook his head. “Nah. Don’t want to go for overkill.”

Through the fabric of his pants, his calf muscle bunched
against her palm as she positioned the cast into place. From beneath her
lashes, she studied the way the denim of his jeans fit around his thighs. The
captain had more of a runner’s build than a bodybuilder’s. He was lean and
toned in all the right places, but not what one would call ripped. More like
the Flash than The Incredible Hulk, at least from what she remembered from her
brother’s comic book collection.

What she liked best about his body was how warm he was to
the touch. He radiated heat like a furnace. When she had nearly reached the end
of her shift in the middle of the night, and most of the lights were off and
the thermostat had been turned down low, she had been half tempted to climb
into the bed beside him for heat.

Sigh… He really was nicely put together.

“So. Doc…” his voice trailed off.

Her breath caught as tingles tripped across her neck in
warning. Had she been caught admiring his physique?

“Do you have plans this week?”

A grin tugged at her lips. Was he fishing for information
about her visits to The Cavern? “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Oh.” His free foot swung to and fro. “Would you like to
join me for dinner one night?”

The request brought her upright. Her eyelashes fluttered
with her confusion. “Dinner?”

“Yeah. Dinner.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“Uh.” A flush of pink raced up his neck. “Yeah.”

Oh, Lord. “I don’t date patients.”

“Well…then it’s a good thing I’m not your patient. You’re
not my regular doctor. It was only timing that had you on duty and available
when I came in.”

“I don’t date,” she said and tightened the last strap of the
boot with a little extra force to make her point.

“Play then?”

Her breath caught at his choice of words. “What?”

“Isn’t that what you call it in the club? Play?”

Whoa.

Every molecule in her body froze, except for her heart that
pounded like a bass drum in a marching band. Was he seriously suggesting what
she thought he was?

As slowly as ice forms on a lake in winter, she pushed up
into a standing position. With him sitting on the bed, they were now at about
the same height. It didn’t put her in the most powerful position, but at least
he no longer towered over her.

“What are you saying, Captain?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed and he swayed in his seat. “I’m
asking you if you want to play. With me.”

Intrigued wasn’t quite the word to describe how she felt
hearing his stuttered statement. The man actually had the balls to ask her to
dominate him in her place of work. He was either brave, cocky or stupid.

She had to admit, if only to herself, the idea did have a
certain appeal. But so did racing Ferraris down I-90. The speed, the danger,
the rush of pushing the envelope was what made life worth living. Just as the
fiery crash into the mountainside ended it just as quick.

Wait a minute. Why was she even taking a second of time
thinking about his request? She doubted the captain knew what he was asking of
her. If he thought she was one of those so-called Doms who engaged in
one-and-done encounters, or got off on causing pain and humiliating others
because of their own selfish need to make themselves look stronger,
disappointment was all he was going to get. She wasn’t a bully.

She also wasn’t a Dom who was looking for a slave. Work,
family and her need for control were all separate facets of her life and had
their place. One life did not cross paths with the other. The subs she worked
with knew her rules and shared the same desire. If they hungered for more, she
did everything possible to match them with another Dom more capable to fill
that need.

Somehow she didn’t think the captain was looking for a
permanent or semi-permanent encounter, but she’d play his game, for now. Once
she made it clear what it meant to submit, he’d never ask her again, and their
working relationship could continue as normal.

“How exactly do you want me to play with you?” she asked and
folded her arms across her chest.

“I, uh…I don’t know.” He broke her stare and shifted in his
seat. “I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t know what I like.”

“It’s not about what you like. It’s what I like and what I
make you like.” She tilted her head and made a great show of looking him over
from the top of his thick, dark hair to the blue casts on his feet, lingering
on the bulge that strained against his fly. She stepped between his parted
knees until a mere breath separated them. “Do you want to fuck me, Captain?”

Again with the hard swallow. His pupils dilated before his
gaze flicked around the room. A moment later he drew in a breath and looked her
square in the eye. “Yes.”

Now it was her turn to swallow hard. Despite her intentions
to refuse to feel anything for the man, heat spread throughout her body in a
mellow burn she felt in her face and between her thighs. She liked that he
didn’t stammer that time. Conviction was such a sexy attribute.

All the more reason to refuse his request. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” The stare-down continued.

His brows jumped after several tense seconds. “No? That’s
it? Just no?”

“Correct, and before you ask, I’ll explain why. In my world,
it’s not about the sex. It’s the give and take of control. Yes, sex is
sometimes involved, but it’s not the be-all and end-all of the relationship. My
submissive places his entire being in my care. Every choice is taken from them
but one. Whether or not to follow my orders. Once that decision is made, they
will either reap or suffer to my liking. In my hands I will expect you to learn
exactly how to please me. If I ask you to fall on your knees, you hit the
ground. If I want to bind you with ropes and have others play with my toy, you
will sink into their touch. If I want to take you up the ass with a dildo, you
will immediately bend over and spread your cheeks for my possession. You,
Captain, are not a man who is capable of that loss of control.”

“And if I was?” he panted. Red graced his cheeks and his
brown eyes shimmered with desire. His chest rose and fell with his quickened
breaths. “What if I was that man?”

Then I’d make every moment the most exquisite torture of
your life.

Her fingers bit into her biceps before she stepped back with
a sigh. “Then I would find you the right person to make that happen. If you
were truly willing.”

“Why not you?”

“Contrary to what you might believe, I’m a one-sub woman.
That position is already filled.”

“Oh.” His posture deflated. “Is it that guy? That man I saw
you with that one time?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in a serious
relationship.”

“I’m not, well, I mean, it’s not serious. In a traditional
sense.” What was she saying? She didn’t owe him any explanations.

“Do you love him?”

His question stopped her short. The sentiment was completely
unexpected coming from the captain. Not that she didn’t believe him capable of
compassion or other emotions as deep and complicated as love, but he was such a
no-nonsense tough guy. Did the fact that she might be in love with someone else
determine whether or not he’d continue to press his case?

The lie tickled her lips, but she refused the temptation to
take the easy way out. “Yes, I love him. But not in the way you think. The both
of us have a need only a rare few understand. I have earned his trust and it is
a gift I cherish. So, yes, I love him, but we are not in love.”

“I understand.” His shoulders slumped and his fingers
gripped the edge of the mattress as a muscle ticked in his jaw. “He’s lucky to
have a friend like you. Have to say, I’m jealous.”

As far as compliments went, his words were not the most
eloquent or unique ever to have been spoken, yet she felt his sincerity like
the warmth of a fire on a cold winter’s night. It ignited a desire to see to
all of his comforts and take away that lonesome puppy-dog look from his
handsome face.
Touch me
, his dark eyes seemed to plead.
Hold me. See
me as I have seen you.