FrankenDom (16 page)

“Wow,” I breathed, circling the base of his balls with my thumb and forefinger and
tugging. “So did he beat you?”

“Mmmmm. Yes, he did, but lightly enough that it was more of an insult. When he released
me from the cross, I told him I could take more than that and he said, ‘Perhaps. We’ll
see next time.’ I wanted to tell him there damn well wouldn’t be a next time, but
of course there was, and by the time it happened, I was desperate for it. When I tried
to manipulate him into punishing me by acting out, he just ignored me. Only when I
behaved in a way that pleased him did he let me show him what I could take. Except
that last day with you,” he added with a sigh. “That was the first and only time he
ever hurt me in anger, and the last time he ever beat me with anything but the flat
of his hand.”

I instinctively soothed him with my fingers. “I’m sorry. Do you miss it?”

“He’s so shockingly creative, I don’t usually have time to miss it,” Colin said dryly.
“Rachel…”

He sounded so serious, I looked up to find him looking down at me. “What is it?”

“I wasn’t just jealous of Julian. I was jealous because you were just as into him
as he was into you. You went all subbie and hot the very first time you saw him, and
I know because I was standing right there watching your face. You never reacted to
me like that—I wasn’t even a blip on your radar, except as an annoyance. Unless I
was acting like an assmunch, you didn’t even notice I was alive.”

Dumbfounded, I blinked at him. “Colin…that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. You two had this primal instant connection, and I wanted you both but
you couldn’t stand me and he couldn’t be bothered to fuck me. Sometimes I thought
maybe it was all a big mind-fuck, that you were both just playing with me until you
could have each other.”

“No, no!” I wrapped my arms around him. “That wasn’t it at all!”

“I figured that out later, but that’s what I was afraid of, why I goaded you and why
I pushed him. I wanted to make
something
happen because I couldn’t stand the waiting and not knowing. And I got what I wanted—for
just that one night, Julian didn’t hold anything back, and though I was a blubbering
mess by the time he finished with me, I loved every minute of it. The next morning,
he explained to me, with his icy control very much back in place, exactly how badly
I’d screwed myself, and him…and you.”

“Oh, Colin, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be. I’m not—not now, anyway. That day, the date on my stamp, was the day I
grew up, the day I learned there are some people you’ll sacrifice anything for,
everything
for. Julian didn’t make me choose between going with him and staying with you. Instead
he told me I was going to help him save his brother, but he put your name on my dick
and told me if you couldn’t have it, no one could. I was…relieved. I wanted to be
reserved for you. It made getting you back my destiny, one of the goals I was working
for every single day.”

I sighed against his chest. “I wish I’d been in on that goal.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He kissed me then, one of those long, drugging Colin-kisses, and before I knew it,
I was sprawled out on top of him, breathing heavily while he explored my sore cheeks
with his hands. In love and in lust, I pushed up and back, but before I could impale
myself on him, he caught my hips.

“We don’t have permission,” he said with a wry quirk of his lips.

“Aw!” I whined as I flopped back down on his chest. “You could have told me that sooner.
Why?”

“He says we both need rest, but I’m pretty sure it’s because he can’t be here to play
with us.”

“Hmph. That’s not fair. You both got to come at noon.”

“And you got to suck the come out of three cocks at noon,” he pointed out. “Hans said
to tell you he can’t wait for your next workout, by the way.”

Snorting with reluctant laughter, I thumped him with my fist. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

“I would but there’s a body on top of me and someone forgot to turn off the light.”

When I slid off him to reach for the lamp, he cuddled up behind me. “Goodnight, my
little come slut.”

I smiled in the dark. “Goodnight, Colin.”

Although I’d gone to sleep at barely nine o’clock the evening before, I woke up late
and had to rush to make it to breakfast on time. I didn’t quite make it because my
legs were so stiff and sore from the day before, I could barely walk, let alone run.

Julian scowled at me when I limped in. “What time is breakfast served, Rachel?”

“Eight-thirty, Sir, but—” I bit my tongue, refusing to look at Colin. It would have
been
nice
if he’d woken me before he left this morning, but it wasn’t his responsibility.

“But what, slave?”

“Nothing, Sir. It’s my fault. It won’t happen again.”

“Glad to hear it. Now sit down and eat, quickly. Normally I’d make you skip the meal
but you missed a meal yesterday so I’ll have to think of some other punishment.”

Sighing with both relief and resignation, I took my seat. “Yes, Sir.”

But things went downhill from there. I’d just taken the first bite of my oatmeal when
Julian said, “I assume your workout ran late?”

I closed my eyes.
Oh, crap.
“No, Sir. I actually didn’t make it to my workout.”

“And why not?” he drawled.

“I forgot all about it, Sir. I don’t usually work out in the morning.” Or anytime.

I braved a glance at him and then wished I hadn’t. He looked annoyed.

“Rachel, I reminded you right before you went to sleep,” Colin said gently.

Gasping, I cried, “You did not!”

He shook his head, giving me a pitying look. “Rachel, did I or did I not say right
before you turned out the light that Hans was looking forward to your next workout?”

“Colin! That wasn’t a
reminder
. You were tea—”

“It sounds like a reminder to me,” Julian said. “I realize that you don’t enjoy working
out, Rachel, but it’s not acceptable for you to just not show up. I’m surprised Hans
didn’t call to tell me you’d wasted an hour of his time this morning.”

“But Sir—”

“Silence!”

Bristling with annoyance, I shut my mouth.

“Now, you’ll finish your breakfast and go directly to the exercise facilities for
your session with Hans. When you’re done, you’ll shower and meet us in the operating
room. You will not go anywhere near the hot tub—understood?”

Groaning inwardly, I nodded. I wouldn’t even
look
at the hot tub, no matter how badly I needed a good, long soak.

It took me forever to limp down to the exercise room, and Hans lectured me for being
late, for missing my first appointment, for not stretching before bed and when I got
up, and for being generally lazy and out of shape. As if that weren’t torture enough,
he worked me harder than he had than the day before, shouting at me in German half
the time when I couldn’t keep up the pace he demanded or lift as much weight as he
thought I should be able to. When my triceps turned to burning noodles and he sneered
at me because I couldn’t do one more rep, I finally snapped.

“Colin told you to take it easy on my arms, you prick!”

“I am taking it easy, you little wienie,” he scoffed.

“Fine. I’m a wienie. A
done
wienie,” I added, stomping off to the locker room.

At my locker, I stripped as quickly as I could, groaning at the soreness in my legs
and abs. I’d absolutely kill for five minutes in the hot tub, but I would have to
settle for a hot shower.

I looked around for the towels and finally saw a pile of them on a table between the
steam and sauna doors. After I turned on one of the shower heads to let the water
warm up, I picked my way gingerly across the cool tile and grabbed two towels off
the table.

When I turned around, I ran into Hans and stumbled.

“Whoa!” He tried to catch me, but instead he shoved me right into the hot tub.

As I went under, my mind went ten different directions at once. Julian was going to
kill me. Was there any way I could keep him from finding out? Forget it, the guilt
would eat me alive. I had to tell him. How long could I possibly stay in here and
still consider it an accident? God, it felt so good! My butt still burned more than
the rest of me in the hot water, and even that felt good. Colin was going to laugh
his ass off when he heard. I still hated Hans. Just two more seconds…

There was a splash beside me and Hans pulled me up. “Rachel, I’m so sorry! Are you
hurt?”

“Oh crap!” I gasped, struggling onto the ledge. I climbed out gracelessly, not caring
if he was getting a shot of me from a lewdly unflattering angle.

He vaulted out of the tub, still fully clothed, and took me by the arms. “Are you
all right?”

“I’m fine, really,” I assured him. “I just need to shower and get out of here, okay?”

“If you’re sure…” he said, his face still a study in caring concern.

“Absolutely. But thank you.”

“All right.” He wandered over to a locker and started undressing.

Oh God, was I ever going to get used to this?

* * * * *

Once I made my way to the OR—right on schedule, thankfully—the rest of the day passed
relatively uneventfully. Though as I expected, the fact that I’d been in the hot tub,
however unintentionally, weighed on my mind. I’d tried to scrub the chlorine smell
from my hair and skin, but I could still smell it. Could anyone else, or was it like
Poe’s Tell-tale Heart, my guilt manifesting itself in an olfactory hallucination?

I should have just told him right away and gotten it over with, but there never seemed
to be a good time. We spent the remainder of the morning doing another quick walk-through
of my part of the operation, and then after a rushed lunch of ham sandwiches and hot
chocolate, Julian took me to the library, which was on the third floor. High-ceilinged
and well-lit by numerous mullioned windows and bright chandeliers, it was easily the
largest library I’d ever seen outside of a university.

There, lounging in easy chairs, or poring over medical tomes on the large wooden library
tables, were at least two dozen people who turned out to be specialists typical of
transplant teams. Besides the obvious neurosurgeons and vascular surgeons, there were
anesthesiologists, cardiologists, radiologists, hepatologists, nephrologists, orthopedic
surgeons, pathologists...

None of them wore any identification, and I assumed they had the same kind of nameless
genetic-based identification I did. It didn’t escape my notice that hardly any of
them were women, but that wasn’t an unusual statistic in the medical community and
especially in surgery.

I was pleased to finally meet Dr. Lang, who would be operating on the other side of
me during the procedure. Probably in his mid-fifties, he was lean and well-groomed,
and on the short side for a man—just about my height, actually, which meant I wouldn’t
have to stand on a platform to operate.

Julian explained that the remainder of the transplant team were arriving that evening,
so we could begin full walk-throughs the next day. Practice runs on cadavers would
commence five days later.

That’s when I started getting butterflies. Good God, we were going to cut off two
men’s heads and try to reattach them to each other’s bodies. Sometimes it sneaked
up and jumped out at me from behind the mental door I’d closed on it.

Dinner was a quiet affair, mostly because I was quiet. Did I really carry the conversation
that much, or were Julian and Colin quieter than usual too? They both seemed to be
watching me, but there could be a hundred reasons for that.

Like plans for the evening, I hoped. I was feeling tense and a little anxious, and
I wouldn’t mind having that taken away for a while.

“So how was your workout this morning, Rachel?” Colin asked.

I froze, my appetite for the delicious broiled salmon suddenly deserting me. “Painful,”
I answered honestly.

He laughed. “Well, I hope you stayed away from the hot tub.”

My breath congealed in my throat as I looked at him, and his smile faded. “Rachel?
Please tell me you didn’t…”

“Rachel Anne, look at me,” Julian said.

Biting my lips, I obeyed, and he sighed, looking very disappointed in me.

“You disobeyed me, didn’t you? Why?”

Tears prickled in my eyes and I blinked them back. I absolutely hated having to defend
myself, and I hated even more having to start my defense with
It wasn’t my fault
.

“It was an accident, Sir,” I said instead. “I went to get a towel and bumped into
Hans when I turned around.”

He watched my face for a long moment before saying, “If it was an accident, why didn’t
you tell me about it right away?”

I wanted to hit myself then.
Why
hadn’t I? I’d thought about it. I’d intended to.

“Because I didn’t want to see that look on your face,” I confessed.

“What look is that?”

“Disappointment, Sir.”

Still watching me closely, he said, “I believe, little slave, that I’m being manipulated.”

My eyes widened. “No, Sir, I—”

“Bite your tongue.” He glared at me. “Now. Put it out and bite the tip so that you
don’t interrupt me again.”

Feeling like an idiot and a wienie and a martyr, I complied.

“Better. As I was saying, Rachel Anne, I believe you’re trying to manipulate me the
way Colin did five years ago, and I’m not falling for it again. I won’t have either
of you topping me from the bottom, do you understand? If you wish to be punished,
you should have the courage to ask for it and let me decide whether or not to administer
such punishment. Do you understand?” he repeated insistently.

“But Sir—”

“Did I give you permission to speak?” he barked.

I bit my tongue and shook my head.

“No, I didn’t give you permission to speak, or no, you don’t understand?” he demanded
in a frustrated tone. “Which is it?”