Excerpt

When my shift ended eight hours later and I was just finishing up some charting, Mira came to the desk.

The first time I’d seen her a few months ago, her mom had been in distress so there hadn’t been time to acknowledge our previous relationship, but I’d been sure we’d catch up later. When later came, though, and I’d tried to ask her how she’d been, she stopped me.

“I’m not the same person as I was back then and I’d rather not relive that time in my life.”

I’d nodded, and since I didn’t have a choice, we became strangers.

Now I’d grown accustomed to acting like we’d never spent two spectacular weeks together, and that I hadn’t developed serious feelings for her.

“Everything okay?” I asked, instantly concerned at the faraway expression she wore on her pale face. There were faint bruise-like shadows under her big brown eyes, and her cheekbones had become more defined since I’d last seen her. Even still, she was beautiful.

“Oh. Yeah.” She glanced behind her pointing at the empty bed. “Mom’s okay. Thank you for getting her admitted. They just brought her upstairs.” She swayed as she turned back to me, not really focusing on my face. Both worried me, so I stood and walked around the desk to guide her to one of the random chairs in the hallway.

“Sit,” I ordered, and she obeyed without so much as a second thought. “You look like you’re about to collapse,” I said, more to myself in assessment than to her. “What can I do for you, honey?” I almost winced at the familiarity of my endearment, but she actually did, and the hurt in that wince was like a GSW to the chest. It only took one blink though, and it was gone.

“Oh, I don’t need anything,” she replied sounding falsely aloof. “I’m heading out to grab some coffee while Mom gets settled in her room, and I thought I’d ask if you guys wanted anything.” She looked around. “Where is Liza?”

I glanced at my watch, frowning. “Gone home,” I said. “Mira, you’ve already been here for twelve hours. I’m about to go myself. Your mom’s admitted, in a room, on a fully staffed floor, she’s good for the night. You should go home.”

Her eyes found mine and I saw a flicker of challenge.

“It’s almost midnight,” I said, a little thrown by her defiant look. Her eyes widened.

“Oh?” Her brow furrowed. “Twelve?” She yawned then, trying to cover it with her arm.

“We don’t enforce visiting hours in the ER but they will upstairs if they need to.” Mira’s eyes snapped to mine at the word enforce and this time it wasn’t defiance I saw.

“I see you so often, I’m starting to think you work here, Mir.” I wanted to know more about her. Was she still painting?

Her eyes on mine, didn’t move. “Nope, the healthcare trenches aren’t for me.” She stood then, likely to shut down any follow-up questions I had, but as soon as she did, she started swaying like a tree in a storm.

“Have you eaten?” I reached out steadying her and guided her back into the chair.

“You sound like my mother. She’s been trying to kick me out and make me eat since noon.” A flash of guilt crossed her face, but she looked away quickly. Maybe there was more of the old Mira in there than I thought.

“You’re no good to her if you collapse. You need rest too.” I darted behind the nurse’s station where we kept a mini fridge with sandwiches, ginger ale, and small snacks for the patients. I snagged a mini pack of crackers.

“Here.” I handed it to her.

She took it and looked up at me. Fiddling with the packet, she said. “Thanks. I probably do need food. But I’ve been sitting on my butt all day, how much more rest can I get?”

She rolled her eyes and something inside me tightened. It was an old reflex, as familiar as breathing, but this was a hospital, not Rawhide, and she wasn’t my sub… anymore.

Another memory flashed in my mind.

We were in our suite at the Ranch and she’d just rolled her eyes at me when I pushed her to eat more of the dinner I’d ordered for her.

I’d tossed her over the arm of the sofa so swiftly, she’d yelped in alarm. She knew how I felt about eye rolling, so I’d spanked her hard with my palm. Clap after clap echoed until my hand stung too. And then I’d forbidden her from moving from the spot on the sofa, and I’d stormed to the armoire where I’d found a wooden spoon.

“Don’t you dare move, Mira. This is a punishment.”

She’d gasped at that. “I’m sorry,” she’d blurted, and she sounded it. Her eyes even teared up as if disappointing me was far worse than the hand spanking I’d just given her. “I shouldn’t have rolled my eyes. Please forgive me.”

“That’s right. You shouldn’t have, especially when I told you how disrespectful I find it. And of course I’ll forgive you, honey. Right after I teach you not to do it again.” The spoon landed on her bottom hard and she yelped again, almost jumping from the spot where I held her down.

I’d spanked her harder than I’d done in our scene with the flogger, harder than when I’d used my belt after the bath I gave her. After a few more swats, I had to put pressure on her lower back with my palm. She kicked and wailed as I painted her pretty bouncing cheeks. But I didn’t scold her for moving. I never understood Doms who did that. Of course she’d squirm. The human body was built to avoid pain. Swat after swat landed, until she was gasping for air and had circle welts covering her cheeks and the backs of her thighs.

“Up.”

She obeyed, sniffling, and when she turned around, her eyes were pleading for comfort. I held open my arms and she fell into them, clinging to me as if I were the only thing keeping her upright. I’d let her stay in my arms until the hiccupping sobs abated.

“You weren’t kidding about not liking eye-rolling,” she’d said on another sniffle as I released her. She’d moved to the full-length mirror and looked over her shoulder at her bottom reflected in it and her eyes went wide. “That was a heck of a spanking, Daddy.”

That word, Daddy, coming out of her mouth had made my cock instantly harder and it was the first thing she noticed as soon as she looked back at me.

“I love that you’re my Daddy.”

I’d pulled her against me again. Kissed her head, face, neck and lips. “There’s no one else I’d rather call me Daddy, Girlie. But your punishment’s not over.” I’d pointed to the floor in front of me. She fell to her knees instantly.

“Unzip me.”

“Yes, Daddy.” She’d struggled a bit with the zipper since my cock was pressing against the material so hard there was barely room to work.

“Show Daddy how sorry you are and when you’re done, I’ll take you over my lap, put ice on those welts and show you what a good girl you are again.”