Seduced By My Doms BN (36 page)

“Be my guest,” I replied with a gravely groan.

Reaching for the squatty, Styrofoam cup on the tray by my
bed, Cindy snatched it up and placed the tip of the straw to my lips. The cold
liquid felt good sliding down my throat.

“When you’re up to it, I want to know everything that sorry
sack of shit put you through, but not now…later. Right now, I just want you to
get better,” she softly encouraged. “How’s the pain? Do you need more meds?”

“No. I’m tired of being drugged up. Besides, they give me
wicked nightmares.”

“Morphine is wicked that way.” Cindy set the cup down but
didn’t look at me. “Did Ryan… I mean he didn’t…”

“Rape me?”

“Yeah,” Cindy whispered with a hint of fear.

“No.”

“Thank god,” Cindy exhaled on a sigh of relief.

I didn’t bother telling her that he’d slapped me. Offering
up that bit of information to the detective caused a potent wave of rage to
roll off both Ian and James. Cindy was upset enough. I didn’t want to add more
fuel to her fire. All I wanted was to put the whole horrific event in the past,
where it belonged.

“There’s my angel,” Trevor exclaimed.

Wearing a big, toothless smile, he dragged his feet on the
floor, positioning the wheelchair next to my bed. Trevor’s long, blonde hair
swayed from side to side and my heart soared, seeing him moving on his own. The
poor guy still looked as if he’d gone ten rounds with a prizefighter, but the
joy he exuded lit up the room like a blinding ray of sunshine.

“Look at you. Cruising around like a bad-assed, sexy beast.”
I grinned. “How’s my favorite patient?”

“Better than my favorite nurse, by the looks of you,” Trevor
teased. “Damn, Liz. You look like somebody dragged you through a bucket then
mopped the floor with your ass, woman.”

“Don’t candy coat it, Trevor. Tell me how you really feel.”
I chuckled.

“You’ve looked better, sugar. But I’m still jealous.”

“Of what?” I gaped.

“You only have one stinking bruise.” He teased with a wink.

Cindy started to laugh. “Yeah, but she only had to fight off
one lunatic. You had what? Three? Four?”

“Four,” Trevor said with pride, flexing a scrawny bicep.
“But get a load of this. My friend Savannah is going to start teaching me
self-defense. Once I’m all healed up, I’m going to be a badass ninja. So the
next time a bunch of fuck-nuts decide to mess with me, they’ll be the ones
landing in the ER. Not me.”

“That’s wonderful,” I cheered.

“How’s your head?” Trevor asked, frowning.

“It’s still there; I know by the constant throbbing. But
it’s better than when I first woke up. Unfortunately, the rest of me is
starting to ache in places I hadn’t noticed before.”

“I know that feeling. My face doesn’t hurt too much anymore,
but my ribs? They hurt like a son of a…”

“They take the longest,” I sympathized.

Cindy squeezed my hand. “I’ll tell Reynolds to order you
something other than morphine.”

“I can talk to him about it later. Right now, I’m just glad
to be home.”

“Not half as glad as we are to have you here,” Cindy assured
me.

“Have either of you seen James and Ian?” I asked.

“I shooed them out and told them to get some dinner or fresh
air when I popped in. They haven’t left your side since you got here,” Cindy
announced, as if approving of their protective mien. “They’ve been stuck like
glue to you.”

“Well, they didn’t go eat. They’re next door in my room,
talking to Daddy.” A hint of unease skidded over Trevor’s blue eyes.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Nothing really,” he hedged in an unconvincing tone.

“Spill it,” I demanded.

“Honest, it’s nothing. It’s just…the guys who beat me up are
back on the streets. They all posted bail.” Trevor lifted his chin
courageously. “But I have a lawyer now. Reed
Landes
,
one of Mika’s friends, is representing me. He helps a lot of our friends with
legal issues. He’s already assured me that he won’t accept any kind of
plea-bargain. Reed wants my case to go to trial.”

“I agree with him,” Cindy chimed in. “Those
asswipes
need to serve some serious jail time. I just hope
the judge sends them away for years.”

“I’d rather haul them into a deserted ally and put a bullet
in their heads,” Drake growled as he stepped into the room.

“We know, Daddy, we know.” Trevor rolled his eyes in mocking
exasperation.

Drake’s face pinched in an unhappy scowl. “You’d better
watch that sassy attitude of yours, boy. I
am
keeping track of your
insolence and the minute—”

“I sure hope so,” Trevor giggled.

Cindy’s eyes grew wide. “Be careful, Trevor. Drake doesn’t
sound like he’s kidding.”

“He’d better not be.” A lop-sided grin bloomed over Trevor’s
mouth. “I like it when Daddy gets all mean and snarly. It’s a hell of a lot of
fun soothing his savage beast.
Mmmmm
.”

Trevor’s innuendo set a lusty blaze in Drake’s eyes. “When
you’re well enough, my love.”

Cindy blanched, then glanced at her watch before she bent
and kissed my cheek. “I need to go back downstairs. I promised Reynolds I’d
only be gone fifteen minutes. I’ll tell him to call up and switch your pain
meds, but
you
better take them or you’ll have to deal with me.
Understood, young lady?”

“Yes, boss.” I smirked.

“Damn straight. I
am
your boss so don’t start
sassing back at me. Just take the damn meds, or else,” Cindy ordered with a
mock scowl before she hurried out the door.

“That girl has a whole lot of
Domme
in her,” Drake laughed. “You should have seen her ordering people around last
night when you didn’t come back from dinner. All she needed was a
singletail
in her hand and a pair of thigh high boots.”

“Yikes. I hope she’s not a
Domme
.”

“Why not?” Trevor asked.

“Because she and Doctor Brooks have a date Friday night.”

“Master Sam?” Trevor choked.

“Yes.” I nodded, nibbling my bottom lip.

“I’d pay money to see those two butt heads,” Drake chuckled.

I didn’t find the humor in it that Drake did, but then I
still wanted to figure out a way to warn Cindy. “I need to ask you two
something. How much trouble would I be in if I told Cindy that Sam was in the
lifestyle?”

Both Drake and Trevor shot me matching looks of horror. “You
can’t do that, Liz. You just can’t.” Drake’s tone was adamant. “If you out Sam,
you out the entire club, and every member in it. That includes Ian and James.”

“You’d be labeled a player and a danger to the community,”
Trevor explained with a worried expression. “Mika would have to ban you from
Genesis. He wouldn’t have any other choice.”

Though I had expected as much, it didn’t keep my heart from
sinking to my toes. Caught between allegiance to my best friend, and a duty to
protect not only my
Doms
, but the entire community
that had openly embraced me, I was between a rock and a hard spot.

“Aside from what it would do to your reputation, you can’t
usurp Sam’s authority. It’s his right and his decision to tell her if and when
he’s ready.” Drake sat on the edge of my bed and cupped my chin. “This isn’t
your secret to tell, Liz. It’s Sam’s. Who you want to tell about your own
submission is up to you, but promise me you’re not going to undermine Sam or
sabotage your own standing as Ian’s and James’ sub at the club.”

His gray eyes bore into mine. The repercussions of revealing
Sam’s kinky appetite would be huge. Drake was right; it wasn’t my place to
disclose Sam’s personal business.

“I promise,” I murmured, feeling like a traitor.

“Good girl.” Drake smiled. “Trevor and I are going to head
out, so you can rest. We’ll be back later to check on you.”

“Do you know where James and Ian are?”

“They’re in the waiting room talking to the gang from
Genesis. They’ll be back in a little bit.”

I gave Drake a slight nod and closed my eyes as he and
Trevor left the room. All alone, anxiety began to swarm like wasps. I knew there
was no basis for my insecurities. I’d cared for enough high school and college
athletes in the ER to know that the angst humming through my veins was nothing
more than a side effect of my head trauma. Countering my disquiet, I tried to
focus on my strengths, to keep weakness from taking over. It helped calm the
riot within, and I slowly drifted off to sleep.

Deep, familiar voices whispered and fluttered over me.
Peeking up beneath my lashes, I watched as James and Ian placed several vases
of flowers on the windowsill. The scent of roses and lilac tickled my nose.
Blocking out the light once more, I closed my eyes as the light and airy
fragrance transported me from the dreary, hospital bed to a rolling field of
brightly colored flowers. In my mind’s eye I could see the three of us running
through the lush green grass, laughing and kissing. Tumbling to the ground,
we’d strip off our clothes before tangling our bodies together to make
passionate love in the warm sun.

“I want to go home and snuggle into bed with you two,” I
mumbled with a sad pout.

“Soon, little one,” Ian promised. “You need to meet with the
orthopedic doctor in the morning to start physical therapy on your shoulder.”

I wrinkled my nose, then sent him a mischievous smile. “I’d
rather do other physical things with you two.”

“Not until you’re one-hundred percent well,” James
instructed.

“I’m not waiting that long,” I replied defensively. “That
could take months. Give me a couple—”

“You’ll wait as long as we tell you to wait, my mouthy
little wench,” James warned with a stern glare.

Six weeks later, neither James nor Ian was convinced that I
was healthy enough for extracurricular sexual activities. Night after night
they tucked me in, surrounding me with their warm, naked bodies—and glorious
hard erections pressing into my flesh—without a single, solitary, happy ending.
Not only did they treat me like a nun, they logged my physical therapy like a
couple of third grade teachers taking attendance. The sexual tension coiled up
inside me was all but dripping down my legs and still they refused.

It didn’t matter that on their days off, and sometimes after
work, Ian and James took me to dinner, to movies, walks along the lake, and
picnics in the park, all the while behaving like perfect gentlemen. I wanted
sex. Needed sex. Hot, sweaty, mind-blowing, screaming orgasmic sex.

By the time I had been cleared to go back to work, I assumed
my forced celibacy would be lifted. But no, my two steadfast, pig-headed
Doms
weren’t budging. By my third day at work, I was in a
sour, surly mood. Even Cindy’s excitement about another date—the fourth so
far—with Sam didn’t so much as elicit a smile from me. I wanted to rail at her,
tell her to open her fucking eyes and take a long, hard look at Sam. Instead, I
bit my tongue and forced a fake smile that made Cindy bristle.

Placing her hands on her narrow hips, she pinched her lips
together. “You’re suffering from an acute case of
bitchitis
,
honey. Do something about it, for all of us. Soon, okay?”

Snatching my purse, I clocked out for dinner. Picking at the
bland chicken breast on my plate, I knew Ian and James held back because they
wanted to give me more time to heal. The past few weeks hadn’t been easy on
them either. They were taking a hell of a lot of showers, not even allowing me
to jack them off and give them relief. Enough was enough. It was time for them
to take off the kid gloves and stop treating me as if I were a fragile,
porcelain doll.

I wanted…no, I
needed
things to return to normal
between us. While I might have been stupid enough to give Ryan the power to
drug and kidnap me, it didn’t give that son of a bitch the right to continue
wreaking havoc on my life. It was time for me to have a come-to-
jesus
meeting with my
Doms
.
Convince them that I was ready, willing, and able to do more than simply sleep
in our bed.
Communicate
my needs until I was blue in the face, if
that’s what it took.

Clocking in after my break, the air buzzed with a strange
vibe in the ER. Something was different, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Cindy rounded the corner, her lips pinched tightly together as if trying to
hold back a laugh.

“What’s going on?”

Without a word, she snagged me by the arm and practically
dragged me to the supply closet. Once the door closed behind us, she doubled
over and started laughing like a mad woman.

“What is so funny?” I asked. Confusion pinged through me,
yet I couldn’t help but grin as Cindy began to snort. “Tell me.”

“I have to warn you,” she gasped then hooted some more. “Oh
my god. It’s too twisted for words.”

“Will you just spit it out?” I asked, growing increasingly
impatient.

“I can’t tell you. You’ll have to see for yourself. Oh,
hell,” she howled. “Just don’t laugh, or we’ll likely be sued, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t laugh. But—”

“I think Trevor’s Daddy finally got his revenge. Come on.”
Opening the door, Cindy peeked left then right. Wiping her eyes, she sniffed,
lifted her chin and thrust her shoulders back. Making our way down the hall,
she leaned and whispered in my ear. “Start in Trauma one and work your way down
to number four. I can’t go in with you… I know I’ll flipping lose it.”

“Okay. But…”

“Just go,” she hissed. Slapping a hand over her mouth, Cindy
turned and rushed back toward the supply closet.

Hurrying down the hall, I was slightly afraid of what I
would find. If Drake had taken out his revenge, it couldn’t be good. Stepping
into the first trauma room, I stopped in my tracks. Dr. Reynolds arched a brow
my way as he bit back a smirk. On the bed sat an irate college kid. His face
was red with anger, fear, and probably a whole lot of embarrassment. Part of
his head had been shaved. The hair that remained was shaped into a distinct and
perfect outline of a penis…complete with testicles. His unique do wasn’t what
held me frozen in place, but rather the word: ‘Cocksucker’ etched on his
forehead in thick, black ink.

“There’s got to be something you can use to get this off
me,” the man groused.

“I’ve already told you, son,” Dr. Reynolds explained as if
his patience were taxed. “It’s not ink from a pen or even an indelible marker.
That’s tattooed into you and involves several layers of skin. There’s not a
damn thing I can do… nothing any of us can do. It’s not going to just wipe
off.”

“Don’t tell me that. There has to be
something
you
can do to get it off,” the man begged. “And what about my ass? Did that
motherfucker corn hole me or not?”

My eyes grew wide. Had Drake actually tattooed and raped
this moron? Turning my shocked attention Reynolds’ way, I bit my lip, waiting
for his reply.

“We’re analyzing the sample we took from your sphincter, but
I can tell you right now, it’s not blood.”

“So he didn’t rape my ass? Is that what you’re telling me?”
the man asked eagerly.

“There’s no evidence of penetration, torn tissue, etcetera,
but with the presence of so much lube, I can’t rule it out completely.”

“Oh man,” the kid moaned as his shoulders sagged. “I’m going
to find that prick that bought us those drinks and I’m going to—”

“Watch yourself, young man,” Reynolds scolded. “I’m
obligated to report any threats you boys make. You’re the four I saw on the
news a few weeks back, right?”

“We didn’t do anything to that fucking queer,” the man spat
angrily. “He’s nothing but a pansy-assed liar. His faggot boyfriend probably
beat him up for giving blowjobs to Catholic school boys.”

Reynolds’ jaw ticked in anger. I had zero sympathy for the
asshats
. I’d witnessed the physical and emotional
devastation the monster sitting before me had unleashed on Trevor
and
Drake. It took every ounce of strength I had not to step up to the bed and
knock the sniveling, spineless bastard to the moon.

“I’m sure,” Reynolds replied dryly.

Counting to ten, I crossed my arms over my chest. “So you
got a look at the guy that did this to you?”

“Yes. I did,” the kid sneered.

“What did he look like?”

Steeling myself, I forced an impassive smile as I steeled
myself to hear the man give a detailed description of Drake.

“The mother fucker was tall and skinny. Brown,
shoulder-length hair, green eyes, and tattoos all over his neck and arms.”

Definitely not Drake. Maybe a friend. Someone who wanted
to help out on Trevor’s behalf.

“That crazy bastard bought us a bunch of drinks. I think he
slipped us some
roofies
or something. Next thing we
know we’re naked, behind a building at Navy Pier. We come stumbling out and
people start pointing and laughing at the shit tattooed all over our faces.”

Were more unique works of tattoo art in the next three
rooms? “I see.”

“Oh, you’ll see all right. It’s all over the fucking
Internet. Because everyone started pulling out their cell phones and recording
us.” He hung his head in shame. “Motherfucking videos have gone viral. My life
is ruined.”

“Being a victim isn’t much fun. Is it?” I asked, then turned
on my heel and marched out of the room.

While the staff seemed to find humor in the situation, I
found it loathsome. Enraged by the same ignorant, redneck mentality that caused
my brother to take his own life, I couldn’t muster an ounce of sympathy, let
alone a drop of professionalism necessary to treat any of the bastards.

Storming into the next room, I studied homophobe number two.
He wore the same penis haircut, but the tattoo adorning his top lip held a more
descriptive phrase: ‘Insert Cock Here.’

“What are you looking at, bitch?” he barked.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing,” I replied in a voice rich
with sarcasm.

Heading into trauma room three, I then assumed all four had
been shaved with the same dick-cut, but with this ignorant piss-ant, the tattoo
artist had gotten a bit more creative. Both cheeks had been inked. The left
side touted ‘I Take It’ and the other side proclaimed ‘Up The Ass’. A part of
me hoped he had taken it up the ass.

Seething with anger, I looked in on the last prick. As I’d
suspected, shaved-cock hair, and this one also had his cheeks tattooed bearing
the words: ‘I Suck’ and ‘Big Dicks.’

By the time I’d visually inspected all four I was shaking
with rage. Rushing past a group of nurses huddled close together, whispering
and grinning, I stormed back to the supply closet.

A myriad of emotions rippled through me like a paper
shredder. Pacing the small space, I clenched my fist, needing to hit
something…or someone.

I wanted to take Trevor by the hand and parade him past each
and every one of those motherfuckers, so he could laugh and point and belittle
them. Kick them in the balls and beat them bloody. I wanted Trevor to see how
his attackers had been reduced to a bunch of pathetic, whining, little bitches.
But most of all, I wanted Ian and James to wrap their arms around me, and calm
the seething cyclone swirling inside me.

The door eased open, and Cindy poked her head into the
closet. “Are you all right?”

“No. I’m not,” I hissed. “I want to go back into every one of
those rooms and shove a scalpel into those little pricks’ hearts. I want to
slam them to the floor and beat the shit out of them. I want to knock their
teeth out, break their ribs, rupture their spleens, and puncture their lungs,
just like they did to Trevor.”

The violent desires rolling off my tongue took me by
surprise. I blinked in horror and shook my head.

“
Alrighty
then,” Cindy replied
grimly.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I gasped. “I’ve never
wanted to hurt a patient in my life. God, Cindy. I don’t know what the fuck is
wrong with me.”

She slipped into the room and shut the door behind her, then
gathered me into her arms. “Of course you do, Liz. It’s okay. We’ll handle
them. I want you to take the rest of the night off.”

“No, I have a job to do,” I argued.

“Not tonight you don’t. I want you to go home, pour yourself
a glass of wine, draw a nice hot bubble bath and then cry. Cry for Trevor…cry
for
Dayne
…cry for yourself,” Cindy instructed as she
swiped a tear from her cheek.

“I can’t,” I moaned. “That’s giving up. I’ll never give up.”

“It’s not giving up. It’s mourning. Something you started
but never finished.”

“I can’t just leave. What if there’s an accident, and you’re
slammed with patients? You don’t need me sitting at home sobbing in a bathtub
of suds.”

“What I need is my old Liz back.” Cindy’s mouth curled into
a bittersweet smile. “I need my happy, carefree, bestie back. Go home and find
her for me, okay?”

“I don’t know if I can,” I confessed as my voice cracked.

“Yes, you can. And if you need help, those two men of yours
will help. They’ve brought you this far. You’re at the cusp, baby. Pull
yourself the rest of the way out…for you, and for us.” Cindy gave me a tight
hug, then inched back. “Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Begrudgingly I clocked out, only to realize after the fact
that I didn’t have my car. Heading down to the cafeteria, I pulled out my cell
phone.

“You’re taking your dinner break kind of late, aren’t you,
sweetheart?” James noted without a hello.

A gentle smile tugged the corners of my mouth. He still
hadn’t learned a lick of phone etiquette. “Actually, I’m off for the rest of
the night.”

“Is everything okay?”

“No, not really. Can you or Ian come pick me up and take me
home?”

“We’re on our way. Wait inside, okay?”

“I’ll be sitting in the cafeteria.”

“Stay put, gorgeous. We’re on our way.”

I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat in the booth Ian and I had
shared. Smirking, I shook my head remembering how bratty I’d been toward him.
How he’d threatened to turn me over his knee and spank me then and there. If
I’d had a clue how amazing it felt at the time, I would have let him. As I ran
my hand over the smooth, Formica surface, it was at this same exact table that
I’d made the brave decision to change my life. I’d never been so scared to step
outside my comfort zone, and now I’d never been so glad I that I did.

Between thoughts of James and Ian, Cindy’s words spooled
through my brain. Had I honestly stopped grieving for
Dayne
mid-way through the process? I had a feeling she was right, but why? Why had I
simply quit trying to heal?

Because you’d have to say your final goodbye to
Dayne
. It’s time now. It’s time to let him go…all the way.

“Little one?” Ian stroked a finger along my cheek. “What’s
going on?”

Peeling the stare from my coffee cup, I gaze up at my
Doms
: Twin pillars of strength, compassion, understanding,
and love. Suddenly I knew what I had to do.

“I need you both to do something for me. Please?”

“Anything,” James replied. Concern was written all over his
face.

“I want you to take me to the club, right now. I want you to
hurt me.”

“Excuse me?” Ian blinked as his jaw dropped open.

“I need to see if pain will heal me. Like it does Trevor.”

“Whoa. Hold on a second.” James held up his hands and shook
his head. “You’re not a pain slut, Liz. You’ve not been introduced to…you’re
not at that level yet.”