Billionaire's Pet 2 (BDSM, Domination and Submission Erotic Romance) (4 page)

Unless he already wanted more than the week and had just exposed his desire.

"Griffin, I won't be able to run again this week…"

His mouth twitched and he dropped down to pull her shoes and socks off. "Right, wasn't thinking."

Well, that answers that.

Hurt unfurled inside her chest but she kept her face neutral. She let him tug her into a standing position so he could peel the running pants down inch by inch, his head lightly pressing against her stomach to center her. Again, he kept his touch slow and intimate. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he was reassuring himself that she was okay beyond the obvious injuries -- the same way he might run his hands over one of his expensive antiques if it fell to the floor.

When she was in nothing more than her bra and underwear, he braced a hand against her stomach and grabbed the thick robe hanging on a hook next to the shower. He threaded her arms through and knotted the sash before scooping her pliant body up.

She started to wiggle in protest. "I can walk."

Carrying her to the bed, he pressed his lips against her temple before his mouth dropped to brush against her ear. "Don't care."

Harriet stood to the side with an ice bag in hand, her face clearly pinched with worry. Seeing Griffin approach the bed, she reached across and pulled the top covers back when a light, but masculine, laugh drifted from the doorway.

"A billionaire orderly, that's something I never thought I'd see!"

Griffin's face went blank. He finished placing Katelyn on the mattress then straightened and took the ice bag from Harriet. Motioning Harriet to leave, he pushed the ice bag into the other man's hands.

"Dr. Bradley," his gaze jumped back to Katelyn. "This is Katelyn."

"Michael, please." Placing the ice bag on the nightstand, Dr. Bradley sat down on the edge of the mattress. He dipped into a pocket and pulled out latex gloves before starting to examine Katelyn's head. His gaze on the wound, he addressed Griffin. "We're fine here, you can go."

Katelyn watched as Griffin folded his arms across his broad chest and leaned against the dresser, firmly rooting himself in the room. Her gaze moving up to Dr. Bradley's mouth, she thought she saw a smirk form before a jolt of pain from straining to see caused her to look back down.

"I find I always get more open answers from my patients without an audience," Dr. Bradley continued.

Griffin snorted, his expression still implacable. "Don't expect this one to tell you anything."

The doctor cupped the sides of her face. That was all it took to pull Griffin away from the dresser and back to the bed. Her gaze darted to him. Seeing the deep scowl on his face, she closed her eyes before he could catch her studying him.

Did Montgomery have a possessive streak?

Resisting the temptation to peek at him, she chewed at her bottom lip. She was just his fuck doll for the week, nothing for him to be possessive over. And he'd called Bradley here. He'd have to have known the man would put hands on her.

Realizing that Bradley hadn't moved the whole time she had her eyes closed, she opened them. He stared at her face, a soft smile gracing his lips. He looked the epitome of patience -- a sharp contrast to the hot glare Griffin leveled at the side of the doctor's head.

Bradley addressed the billionaire without looking at him. "I can't start until you leave, Grif."

Montgomery shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze hooking Katelyn's for an instant. "I'll be right across the hall if you need anything."

"Okay." Her voice was flat, hesitant. There was no reason for Griffin to act like that over the doctor touching her.

Bradley waited for the door to shut before he dropped his hands and chuckled lightly. "I hope you don't mind my needling him, but he can't stay without your permission and I realize it might be hard for you to tell him to get out."

"What do you mean?" She had a sinking feeling she knew what he meant. The knowing smirk crawling along his face confirmed her suspicion.

"You're injured, my dear, and Griffin is used to getting his way…" He wasn't enough of a gentleman or a professional to leave it at that. His tongue came out and took a small, decidedly sensual and subconscious lick at the center of his lips before he shined the light in her eye. "Especially in his own bedroom."

Thoughts raced through her mind.
His bedroom
, why wouldn't he admit it? And how the hell did the doctor know where the billionaire's tastes ran?

Leaning close, Bradley checked her ears. She could smell the subtle spice of his cologne, feel the soft fall of his breath against her skin. Putting the scope and light down, he dressed the cut on her head, asking her questions about her vision, pain, hearing and any nausea. Satisfied with the answers, he ran his fingers through her hair to probe the rest of her skull. He moved slowly in everything he did, his gaze shifting back and forth between her eyes and lips.

"How long have you known Griffin?" he asked.

The unmistakable speculative tone that had crept into his voice chilled Katelyn, leaving no doubt the man knew why she was at the estate or that he had his hands on the billionaire's paid-for-pet. She swallowed and waited for his attention to return to her mouth before answering. She didn't want him looking in her eyes again. "Is that relevant to your diagnosis?"

He smiled, his gaze sliding back up to hold hers. "Just trying to relax you, Katelyn. I can tell you're resistant to physicians. Is your father a doctor?"

Anger heated her cheeks. She blinked at him then bit at her lip. Her father was an asshole attorney. He'd hired asshole doctors -- psychiatrists -- to certify that her mother was insane and needed institutionalized. They'd done it while Katelyn was at Olympic trials, hoping to get Madeline Willow all suited up in a straightjacket before Katelyn could find out.

None of that was Dr. Bradley's fucking business.

She stared him down, her gaze sharpening as her spine straightened and her shoulders squared back along the mattress. "How's my leg?"

This time it was Bradley's turn to blink. Only half-masking his response, he moved down the bed to expose her leg and gingerly take hold of it. With his hands on her lower body, he stopped his retreat, his grip on the limb, confident and proprietary, as if it weren't hers but his.

Just like Griffin that first day in the limo.

Katelyn's pulse accelerated as she realized why Griffin had wanted to stay. He didn't want to leave her alone with another manipulative, dominant male -- one who would see in her whatever it was Griffin had spotted on the auction tape. Griffin wasn't being possessive of her, merely competitive. Feeling the threat of tears, she closed her eyes.

"X-rays on the ankle aren't necessary as long as the swelling goes down." His fingers moved along the back of her calf in a way she was certain was completely unnecessary from a medical perspective. "You'll need to stay off it for at least three days. Grif can carry you around. He seems to like that."

She opened her eyes and nodded slowly, wanting him out of the room as soon as possible. "I'll stay off it."

She looked up to the general area she was certain held one of the room's cameras, her gaze pleading for her lover's return.

Grabbing the ice pack, Bradley positioned it over the swelling then reached into the bag he had brought with him for more antiseptic wipes. "I'll leave instructions on the icing schedule. Were these sanitized?"

He was gesturing at the scrapes on her legs when Griffin opened the bedroom door. He had his iPad in his hand. The screen had been turned off, but Katelyn was more certain than ever he had been watching the whole of the examination -- including the conversation and the way Bradley's tone had changed over the course of treatment.

"If that's all that's left, I'll do it." His scowl had turned into a snarl. The veins along his arms stood out as if he'd been flexing the muscles, his fists most of all.

"A scan--"

"No," Katelyn interrupted. She wasn't going to spend any more time around Bradley or have the whole hospital, and through them the whole damn town, gossiping about how Montgomery's latest pet had injured herself.

"Then you'll need to be checked throughout the night, every two hours."

She sucked a breath in. "Is that really necessary?"

Griffin didn't give the doctor time to answer. "I'll see to it. What else?"

Bradley pulled out his cell phone, tapped through a few screens. "I've mailed you a list of instructions and signs to look for."

Griffin turned his iPad on, tapped through to his mail and grunted. "Got it."

He rolled his shoulders and neck, the joints popping with tension. "More?"

Bradley caught Katelyn's gaze again. Another knowing smile played his lips, flattening the lips until it reached the corners and turned them up. "Call me immediately if you need
anything
, Kate."

She could tell Montgomery didn't like the doctor's tone or the way he had shortened her name. He grabbed the man's bag, snapped it shut and walked to the bedroom door with it. Bradley took the cue and retreated with a conspiratorial wink at his patient.

Griffin tracked the man's path to the door and down the hall like lions watched antelopes cross the plain, each step intended to be the prey's last. Shutting the door, he turned back to the bed to find Katelyn straining for the packet of antiseptic wipes.

"Stop. I'm doing that."

She kept reaching. She didn't want him delivering any more first aid. It fuzzied up her brain, made her wonder if she could be anything to him other than a woman he had once spent fifty thousand dollars to fuck. With Bradley's slimy persona still coating her senses, she didn't need to feel any more unsettled than she already did.

"I'd really rather not spank you so soon after your fall, pet, but I will."

His warning echoed with a warm purr that went straight to Katelyn's pussy. Her hand retreated. Putting his hands on her shoulders, Griffin coaxed her into relaxing against the bed pillows. He kissed each of her eyes shut, then moved onto her mouth, his warm, soft kisses ensuring her compliance before he began to clean the scrapes.

Cracking one eye open, she watched him working on her leg. He glanced up, caught her.

"I'll get you someone other than Bradley, so if the scan is about the bill--"

"It's not." She tensed and he pressed his lips together, letting her cut him off.

Not for long.

He disposed of the wipes then sat alongside her hip. He parted her robe to massage the front of her shoulders. "If it's not Bradley or money, then what? You said
no
on blurry vision, but you were lying, love."

She closed her eyes, two questions warring for the top spot inside her head. Losing the fight was that she had, indeed, been lying, but how the hell could he read her so thoroughly when he wasn't even in the same room? Did he have infrared cameras or something? Did she light up like a Christmas tree whenever she failed to tell the truth? That line of questions didn't really stand a chance against the other one racing through her mind. He'd twice called her
love
that day -- why? Was he just trying to be extra gentle with her because of the injury? Certainly he didn't mean he loved her, but love was no term of endearment to lightly toss around -- at least it wasn't to her.

"Shhh, baby." His hands moved up to gently cradle the sides of her head. His chest pressed against her breasts a second before his mouth made contact with her lips. "Don't cry."

She hadn't realized it, but tears were falling fat and fast down the sides of her face.

Griffin deepened the kiss, his tongue lightly curling against her top lip with small forward trips to stroke against her palate and teeth. He kissed along the streak of tears that hadn't stopped. "Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."

What was wrong?

A tremor ran through her, dizzying her up in a way the bump on her head couldn't possibly hope to achieve. What was wrong was that she was stupid enough to be falling in love with him. Maybe. She wasn't sure -- had never felt anything close with the few lovers she'd had.

Swallowing the truth down, she offered a weak smile. "I'm just tired, I need to rest."

His gaze narrowed, that damn, perfectly shaped right brow of his lifting as the nostril below it flared. "Still lying, love."

She sucked a deep breath in, smiled a little more brightly and repeated herself with a small amendment. "I'm tired, I need to rest."

His brow climbed higher. "You said
just
before."

She mirrored his expression, pain splintering and branching like lightning from the cut to her brow. "And you said this wasn't your bedroom."

His cheeks flushed a deep pink. He closed his eyes and took a few measured breaths before looking at her again. "Your bottom is going to be very red because of this conversation, pet. But not today."

He brushed a kiss along her cheek and stood. "Harriet will be in to check on you in two hours. This," he said, taking a small clicker from his pocket, "will page her if you need anything before then. I sent Philip to buy a cane for when you need to use the restroom, but you will not move around with it unless one of us is with you, and you will not lock the bathroom door."

Katelyn nodded, relieved that she'd only have to face Harriet two hours from then and that Griffin wasn't going to do something stupid -- and utterly romantic and caring -- like insist on carrying her back and forth to the bathroom.

Grabbing the iPad, he confirmed her suspicion that it doubled as a control for the bedroom's cameras by bringing up the feed for the room. "I will of course be checking to make sure you are okay and are behaving yourself."

She nodded again and a mischievous grin broke across his handsome face, easing the tension that had plagued its surface since he'd found her bleeding on the trail. Reaching down, he stroked his fingertips across her stomach, over her mound and between her legs, re-staking his ownership of her body as if she could forget. "You will behave yourself in all ways, pet. This is still my pussy, no matter how bored you get convalescing."