OnlyatTheCavern (17 page)

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Authors: Anna Alexander

BOOK: OnlyatTheCavern
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Maybe she had overreacted some to Marco’s desire for more.
Wasn’t it supposed to be a good thing when someone you liked wanted to spend
more time with you? Shouldn’t that make you burst with happiness and
immediately run to change your social media status to “in a relationship”? God,
it had been so long since she went out on anything resembling a date, how did
Doms date their subs?

Lord, this was going to take a lot of thought.

“Good morning, Helen,” she greeted a passing nurse as she
entered the sliding doors of the emergency room.

Helen dropped her clipboard and stared as if shocked by her
appearance.

“Are you all right?” Jasmine asked.

“Fine,” Helen stammered and her cheeks turned dark pink. “I
just—I. You. I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

“I’m on the schedule, right?”

“Yes, but I didn’t think we’d be seeing you.” Her eyes flew
wide open. “I don’t mean seeing-seeing you, just, oh—never mind.”

“What in the hell was that about?” she muttered as the woman
all but ran down the hall.

The oddities continued as she reached the nurses’ station.
The two women behind the counter looked at her with the same wild-eyed
expression as Helen. Even the medics waiting at the counter looked her up and
down as if trying to see beneath her clothes.

“Looking good, Dr. Jo,” Dr. Rawlings smirked as he passed
her. “I miss the purple, though.”

“What?”

“Dr. Jovanovich.” Dr. Reid’s melodic baritone echoed down
the hall from where he stood by the elevator door. “May I see you please?”

Jasmine knew the question was a command not a request. She
ignored the twitters and chuckles from the peanut gallery and walked toward the
chief of staff, feeling as if she was being called into the principal’s office.

The ride to the seventh floor was painfully silent as she
kept her gaze on the doors and ignored the sidelong glance the older man
directed her way. Dr. Reid was neither a friend nor ally to anyone in the
hospital, which made him a great boss. His opinion of you was based solely on
merit, which was an anomaly in the politics-heavy medical field. Whatever
thoughts were going through his head had to be real doozies to have his
forehead crinkle in such a manner as it was at that moment.

She followed him to his office and perched on the offered
seat across from his desk. He took his chair and eyed her over the hands he
clenched in front of his nose.

After several seconds, he quirked a dark eyebrow. “What do
you have to say for yourself, Doctor?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what you mean.” What was going
on?

“The photos, Doctor.”

“I still don’t follow.”

Good heavens, was the man blushing? Dr. Reid? The man who
during her second year of residency calmly and without a twitch of an eyelash
removed a man’s stuck penis from a flower vase filled with Jell-O? Who removed
a chunk of cucumber out of a woman’s vagina after her boyfriend got a little
overzealous with a vegetable and acted as if it was no big deal?

She felt her eyes dry out as she watched unblinkingly as he
picked up the papers on his desk and handed them to her facedown. Did she want
to turn them over and see what had him looking as if he’d rather be anywhere
else but in the room?

Her hands trembled ever so slightly as she picked up the
papers.

Motherfucker. She bit back the curse as she saw the photos
that appeared to be screenshots from the internet.

Wow. Mistress Jasmina did cut quite a figure when she was
dressed in all her dominatrix glory and tossing the whip. What kind of camera
did the photographer use, an HD lens? The picture was laser sharp, capturing
the slightest details, from the creases in her dress to the beads of sweat
dotting her skin.

The photos were from her last night with Marco. In one she
was lashing him with the whip, in the other she was pressed along his side.
Although there was a blurred-out circle on the print, there was no doubt she
had her hand wrapped around his cock. Even if she hadn’t been, the censoring of
the photo sure made it look like she did.

“Now do you understand?” asked Dr. Reid.

“I see…wow. I see—” Hey. She realized the screen shots were
blown up to fill the page of paper and not the actual size from the internet.
So the good doctor wanted a better look, huh? How completely, totally and
typically male. And utterly disappointing behavior for a man she had admired
until that moment. Instead of calling him out on the fact an enlargement of the
photos were not necessary, she asked, “Where did these come from?”

“The photos themselves you would know better than I. Someone
posted them on the front page of the hospital’s website.”

“What?” For everyone to see? Who would do such a thing? “Are
they still there?”

“Heavens no. They were taken down as soon as they were
discovered, but we’re not the only website they were posted on. Apparently
they’re everywhere. Even my son called from college, asking about the Dom doctor.
His fraternity brothers want to meet you, but that is neither here nor there.
We have other issues to discuss, namely what is the meaning of these photos?”

Jasmine kept flipping through the pictures, completely
flabbergasted that someone had gone to such an effort to out her. Who could it
be? “I’m still not understanding. Obviously I have interests outside of the
hospital. But who posted these on the website?”

“That we do not know. It appears the hospital’s hosting site
was compromised and another user uploaded them.”

“And IT can’t tell who it was?”

“Our IT can barely keep our network running, let alone trace
a hacker.”

“Well, what about—” She was about to say contacting the
police, but what good would that do? Posting a photo was not really against the
law. Right now the only harm was her embarrassment, if she allowed it. Ah, now
the strange looks she received when she arrived all made sense. “I take it most
of the staff have seen these?”

“And the board, and the news and many of our patients. I’ve
been fielding calls all day about the slutty doctor.”

She winced. “That’s not fair. What I do on my own time is my
business. I’ve kept my private life and my work life separate for years.”

“Until now.”

“I’ve not broken any rules.”

“Technically, no.” He adjusted his tie. “First and foremost
we are a hospital. Our patients and their care come first. With all of the fuss
stirred up by these pictures, it’s been difficult to maintain that focus.”

“I can’t control that, Dr. Reid.”

“I understand. My hope is this will all blow over soon,
which is why I want you to take the day off. Actually take the next three.
Perhaps by the time you return, the calls and visitors will have stopped.”

Disbelief had her head feeling as if it were floating away.
“I’m being suspended, sir?”

“Administrative leave.”

“Are you kidding me?” Anger over the situation made her leap
from her chair. “I’m being punished for a childish prank that is out of my
control?”

“The ER is enough of a circus as it is, and my God, if I
have to break up another group of doctors who are spending time away from their
patients to ogle your…well…” He nodded his head as his eyes fell to her
breasts, which at that moment were heaving behind her modestly cut blouse.
“It’s only for a few days. As long as you behave, I’m certain this will be
nothing but a bad nightmare for everyone involved.”

“As long as I behave,” she repeated. Message received. She
was not to engage in any behavior that might appear the least bit unseemly.
Great. Just great. She straightened and looked down her nose, giving her boss
the expression she used when a sub had displeased her. “Is that all, Dr. Reid?”

He swallowed hard and nodded. He had to clear his throat to
say, “Yes, Dr. Jovanovich.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and marched out
of the office with her best dominatrix swagger. She had done nothing wrong, and
there was no way she was going to let anyone make her feel any sort of
embarrassment.

The elevator doors slid open and she stepped into the
thankfully empty car. As they slid shut a voice shouted, “Wait up.”

A white lab coat-covered arm thrust between the doors,
prompting them to reopen. Dr. Goldwyn strode into the car and pushed the button
for the lobby. Once they were enclosed, the young heart surgeon turned a car
salesman’s smile in her direction. “Jasmine, Jasmine, Jasmine.”

Oh God.

“Aren’t you full of surprises. I have to tell you, I like
what I’ve seen.”

She refused to budge as he crept into her personal space,
coming to within an inch of her arm as she clutched her bag as if it were a
shield. She wasn’t going to give the creep the satisfaction of knowing he
bothered her.

“If I’d known you liked it kinky, I would have asked you out
long ago.”

She choked back a snort. As if he ever had a chance with
her. Sure, he was pretty, but he was also conceited and a snob. The only
respect she held for him was for his ability in the operating room.

“Seeing you in those picture, girl, hmm…there are so many
things I want to do to you.”

“You need your eyes checked, Goldwyn. If you looked closer,
you’d have seen that I don’t take it, I give it out.”

“You just haven’t met the right man. I can make you beg.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him lift his hand then
felt the slide of his palm down her back.

Bam.
Her bag hit the floor as she knocked his hand
away and jabbed him in the solar plexus with her right fist. “Do not touch me.”

“Hey. Hey. Sorry. I’m sorry.” He cowered in the corner. “I
thought—”

“You thought wrong. And you can tell every one of your
misogynistic friends in cardiology, and anywhere else, that you’ll only have me
in your dreams.”

She left Goldwyn huddled in the elevator and strode down the
hall. All talking stopped as she passed the nurses’ station and crowded lobby,
looking neither right nor left as she kept her head held high and a swing to
her step. The entire drive home was a blur as all of her thoughts were centered
on one question.

Who?

Who disliked her so much that they had gone to the trouble
of taking her picture and posting it all over the internet, going so far as to
hack their way into the hospital’s website? She always took care to be polite
and cordial whenever possible, and she kept a rather low profile, even for a
dominatrix. The only person who could potentially have any reason to be
vindictive was Marco, and posting photos was not his style. Besides, he was in
the photos too, even if his face was covered by the mask. None of it made
sense.

She parked her car in the garage under her condominium
complex. Usually she would step out of the vehicle and enter the elevator to
her unit without another thought, but as she opened the door, she scanned the
area, peering into every corner and shadow in search of a possible stalker. Was
the photographer perhaps someone from the club who felt she had scorned them somehow?
At this point anything was possible.

The garage was quiet and the elevator empty. The car came to
a stop on her floor, and the doors opened on a whisper.

“Jasmine. Thank God.”

Marco was in the hall standing outside her door. He ran to
her and engulfed her in a huge bear hug, smashing her nose into his chest as he
ran his hands over her body.

“I’ve been searching for you everywhere. You didn’t answer
your phone, you weren’t home and the hospital said you weren’t there when I
called. I’ve been scared to death.”

It was difficult to imagine Marco afraid of anything, but
the trembles that shook him as he hugged her close were real enough. After the
morning she had, his embrace was welcome, and she burrowed closer, inhaling the
scent of his spicy aftershave, and sank into the comfort of his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said and ran his hands over her hair again
and again. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to be dragged into any of this.
I should have known better, damn it.”

“I don’t understand,” she mumbled into his jacket.

“Let’s get inside and out of the open.” He stepped back
enough to allow her to unlock the door and let them into her condo, but he kept
within touching distance.

“Does your visit have something to do with the photos of us
on the internet?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” He paused in the entryway and surveyed
the open area of her condo.

It had been years since she had a lover inside her personal
domain. Her condo was more of a place to store her things and sleep than what
one would call a “real” home. Her dungeon at The Cavern was more her style and
where she chose to display her true personality.

The living room furniture looked as if it had come straight
from the showroom floor, which it had, courtesy of her mother’s insistence that
she move on from the college days of assembly-required pieces. The room was
pretty but cold, and as she imagined what the impersonal space must look like
through his eyes, all of her confidence vanished. The encounters at the
hospital left her feeling more vulnerable than she expected, and now Marco was
the only person to have seen her in all aspects of her life. The illusion of
Mistress Jasmina was officially broken.

She cleared her throat, eager to get to the heart of the
matter and be done with it. There was a bottle of wine with her name on it in
the kitchen she was more than ready for. “What’s going on, Captain?”

The worry that had darkened his eyes deepened to sorrow as
the muscles in his jaw flinched. “Jesus, Jasmine, why can’t you call me Marco?”

“Is it that important to you?” she asked past a dry mouth.

“Yes.” He stepped closer. “Because you’re that important to
me, and I want to mean more to you than just another sub. Look, I know that we
are two busy people and at the moment there is a royal clusterfuck going on,
but I still don’t see why it’s so unreasonable for me to care about you and
want to spend more time together. Am I really that bad to be around when you
don’t have me naked and trussed up?”

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