The Drake Restrained Collection: Part 1 and 2 (The Drake Series Book 3) (17 page)

"There's no reason to talk. I'm not writing about BDSM any longer and so we have nothing to talk about."

"I'd like to hear about Mangaize," I said, trying another tactic. I’d get her to talk about something that was important to her. "I was in Africa last year but never went to the camps. I was in several field hospitals in the Congo."

"In case you forgot, you warned me off you."

Crap
. I did. What an idiot…

That was when I thought she was vanilla and would be horrified to find cuffs and rope and spreader bars in my closet. "Oh,
damn
. I did, didn’t I?" I rubbed my forehead, searching for a way to push past it. "Can I take it back?"

"Nope. My father always said that if a man tells you he's not good for you, you should believe him."

I smiled but shook my head. Trust Ethan to give Kate good advice. "Your father is a very smart man."

I sighed heavily, feeling my hopes for wearing her down dissipating. I had no idea what else to say to try to convince her.

"Why
did
you warn me off?" she said after a moment of silence.

Why did I? Because I felt guilty pursuing such a sweet innocent fragile woman like
Katherine
. Beloved daughter of the man I wished I had as a father.

"Isn't it obvious? You seemed so innocent, so young, so pure. I was sure you'd be horrified about my," I said, my voice low. "My
lifestyle
. I actually wanted to ask you out but didn't want to with Dave there, and then after the interview, I wanted to once again but I talked myself out of it. You were
Katherine
. Ethan's beloved daughter."

"I'm sorry," she said, and her voice did sound filled with regret. "I just can't."

I sighed. "Well, I should go, then. I don't want Mrs. Kropotkin to learn all my secrets." I tried to sound less disappointed than I felt but it wasn’t easy. Then, I decided to leave her with something to think about. I leaned closer to the door.

"I'm sorry about all this," I said, trying to use the voice Janice told me to. "If you want to talk – about the article, about me, or the lifestyle –
anything
– you just have to call. Text me."

"I don't think I should.”

She said it, but it wasn’t firm. She didn’t think she
should
could mean that she
wanted
to.

"Okay," I said, trying one last time. "Your call. But if you change your mind and want me, I'm willing.
Very
willing."

A silence ensued. Finally, she spoke. "Goodbye, Dr. Morgan."

"Good night, Ms.
Bennet
."

I turned away and walked down the hallway to the stairs.

I’d lost a skirmish, but I hadn’t lost the war.

Not yet.

CHAPTER TWO

As I drove back to my apartment, I refused to accept that we wouldn’t eventually be Master and submissive. Despite her reluctance, I could almost taste the shy and reticent Ms. Katherine McDermott on my lips. I still had a huge wall to break down between us but if I had to do it brick by brick, I would – gladly.

Katherine was everything I could want in a sexual partner. Lovely, intelligent, well-bred. Submissive. Katherine was a true submissive – not just a young woman looking for a fun diversion because some book appealed to her. I’d met that kind of woman and they were fun, but often moved back to a vanilla lifestyle once they had their brief taste of submission.

No, with Kate, it was the real deal. Beneath that reluctant exterior was a woman aching to try submission but afraid of what it meant about her character. I knew her type – raised in a wealthy family by an exacting father who had high expectations for her success in whatever field she chose, high standards of behavior and performance in school and work. It had to be exhausting.

Someone like Kate just wanted to submit to someone strong and in control.

In contrast, I was raised by an absentee father who was too focused on his career and his desire for adventure and thrills to pay much attention to instilling anything in me but independence. I had to develop a sense of control – over myself and everything else – because he was never there to be my rock. I had to become dominant in order to achieve anything.

Yes, I did most of it to attract his attention, which rarely ever came, but this personal drive to be in control led to great success in my career as a neurosurgeon. I finished high school two years early, did the same with my undergraduate degree and then went through into medical school and my fellowship without break until I was fully accredited as a Board Certified neurosurgeon at thirty.

Katherine needed someone like me to feel safe. With me in control, she would be free to explore anything and everything because none of it would be her responsibility. I needed someone like her to fulfill my need for control. The fact that Ethan seemed to want to push us together made it all the easier and even more exciting. We could do anything, be together whenever we wanted, and he would be pleased. He’d be none the wiser that his little girl and best friend’s son were playing dominance and submission games in the bedroom.

What we did in private was none of his business anyway.

I arrived at my building and parked my car, jangling the keys in my overcoat pocket as I made my up the elevator to my suite. I’d have to develop a plan of attack and be resolute implementing it. I knew Kate wanted this but was afraid to admit it. I’d have to push her just a little and she’d fall.

Right into my arms.

Once inside my apartment, I threw off my coat and shucked my boots before checking my messages. Yet another one from Allie, pleading with me to give her another chance. I’d have to speak to Lara about her. Lara had to find her another Dom because I had my mind set on Katherine and nothing was going to do in substitution.

I had a call from David in Nairobi, asking me if I’d given his offer of a position at the hospital any thought. He’d been pestering me about coming to Africa for six months to help out with the medical college’s neurosurgery program. I wanted to go, but with a busy practice in Manhattan, I’d have to start slowing down in order to take a leave of absence.

The last message was from Lara.

Drake, don’t push too much with Kate. I know her type – skittish like an unbroken thoroughbred filly. She’ll balk at any attempt to saddle her up at first so proceed slowly… Call me back and we can talk. Better yet, meet me for lunch tomorrow and we can plot our course.

I smiled at the metaphor of Kate as a thoroughbred and the revelation that Lara was on my side. Kate was precisely a thoroughbred, with good breeding, a first-rate upbringing and a graduate education. Chestnut hair and wide green eyes, fantastic rack and tiny little waist. She was short and that always brought out the Dom in me.

God
, I wanted her…

I wanted her wrists and ankles cuffed and restrained, tied to my bedframe, a blindfold covering her eyes while I played with her body, teasing her with pleasure until she begged for release. Then, I’d remove her blindfold and force her to look in my eyes as she came.

Imagining it gave rise to a semi and I rubbed myself absently, wishing I’d been more successful with her earlier. If I had been able to work my way into her apartment, I felt certain I could have found my way between her luscious thighs. I could be very persuasive when I wanted something.

I wanted Kate badly.

After undressing and washing my face, I examined myself in the mirror. There were a few flecks of grey in my hair, and a few lines on my face. Yes, I was twelve years older than Kate, but age gave me that extra sense of dominance that would attract and tame a submissive like her. I’d been married, divorced and had been a professional for seven years. I wasn’t some green under the collar frat boy who didn’t know what to do with his dick or how to handle a woman like Kate.

I sat on the edge of my bed and opened the photo album containing the artistically posed photos of previous submissives and flipped through the pages. It usually provided me with a source of arousal when I was between submissive partners, but I wanted to imagine Kate in those poses instead of the woman they portrayed.

I closed the book and laid back on the bed, my eyes closed as I imagined bringing Kate to my apartment, tying her up and having my way with her delicious body and mind.

It was cold comfort to be jerking off alone instead of using her body for my pleasure but until I was successful getting between Kate’s thighs, it would have to do.

I met Lara at the café across the street from NYP just after one o’clock the next day once my morning slate of surgeries was complete. As usual, she was impeccably dressed in her grey pinstripe suit and white blouse, her hair pulled back tightly in a bun, thick black framed glasses on making her look very bookish. That staid exterior hid a very kinky and domineering interior that I had come to know only too well during our time together as a new Dom in training.

I stopped at the counter and placed my order and then went to our table at the back of the small café.

“There you are,” she said and bent her head to the side, expecting me to bend down and kiss her cheek. Despite the fact we were both dominants, she couldn’t help but try to top me in every encounter. I smiled and bent down, placing a kiss on her cheek. Then, I slipped down to kiss her neck at the last moment, refusing to give her the upper hand completely. My small show of dominance mixed with obeisance kept us simpatico and ensured I had a steady supply of eager new recruits.

My specialty was training new submissives who were curious about the lifestyle but didn’t want to try anything too heavy into S&M to start. She had a line into that supply as one of the moderators at the Manhattan branch of Fetlife.com. She taught a class on BDSM and Feminism once a semester, introducing the topic to the curious who were conflicted about their politics. I’d met almost all of my former submissives through her connections and most of them were college students or young professional women bored with the same old thing.

“So,” she said, eyeing me from across the table. “Any luck with the reluctant daughter of the Hanging Judge? You sure you want to do this, given that you two run in the same social circles?”

“Not one iota of doubt,” I replied and smiled at the server as she placed my BLT sandwich down on the table. I dug into my lunch, hungry after five and a half hours of surgery. “I’m even more convinced after I made a visit to her apartment last night. Our little encounter gave me hope.”

Lara made a face of surprise. “You went to her apartment? She invited you in?”

That surprised me, for I was sure Kate would have called Lara to talk about the whole business.

“She didn’t call you?” I said, taking a pickle chip off my plate.

“No,” she said, smiling over her cup. “Tell me everything.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t actually go inside her apartment so there isn’t much to tell. I stood outside her door in the hallway for about fifteen minutes and sweltered while she stood on the other side of the door.”

“And this gives you hope because…”

“Because,” I said and picked up the other half of my sandwich. “I could tell by what she said and how she said it that she really wanted to talk to me but was afraid.”

“Of you?”

I shook my head and smiled. “Of herself.”

“Ahh,” Lara said as she fixed me with a thoughtful stare. “Of course. She strikes me as someone who is extremely frustrated with her life. She wants more but is afraid to take it. Afraid of her domineering father, I suspect.”

“Precisely.”

“I have the highest regard for Judge McDermott,” Lara said, looking off into the distance. “But he is very dominant. I’d think she’d be happy to find another man like him. Most women want another daddy.”

“She’s probably happy to find another man like Ethan,” I said, nodding in agreement. “She just has to realize it. If she didn’t want someone like me, she wouldn’t have gone looking in the first place.”

“Precisely,” Lara mirrored back at me, grinning. “Gotta love a confident Dom.”

I grinned back. “I had the very best teacher.”

On Tuesday, I saw Ethan in the locker room at the club after a game of racquetball with a fellow surgeon. Ethan was speaking with a couple of men his age, all of them wrapped in towels, preparing to take a steam.

His back was turned to me so I waited until there was a break in conversation and stepped closer. The other men glanced at me and then parted, allowing me to approach the judge.

“Pardon me, gentlemen. Judge McDermott, good to see you again,” I said. “Great turnout at your fundraiser over the weekend.”

He turned to me and the look on his face was priceless. Like he’d just found his future son-in-law and not the conniving Dominant out to bed his daughter…

I had to suppress a chuckle.

“Well, Drake, my boy,” he said, taking my hand and shaking vigorously, his other hand on my shoulder. “So glad you could come. I’ve been meaning to introduce you to some of my colleagues and supporters.”