The Right Treatment (16 page)

“He’s trouble. He fights with everyone,” Jonathon claimed. When Aoife asked for more specific details, Jonathon had become irate, accusing her of doubting his word.

“I’m just trying to get more information to see how we can help him; he’s seven years old, he can’t verbalise it all himself. Why do you think he is trouble? Do you think the other kids might pick on him? And if so, why? Do you ever see anything going on?”

“You’re a fine one to tell me how to manage my class, you can’t even manage yourself. I know all about you and your druggie history, Miss Devine, so don’t come the sweet innocent angel on me,” Jonathan spat at her before storming out of her room.

Trembling and nauseated, Aoife had to let the principal know what had passed. Although the principal had been raging with Mr. Oxley and had backed Aoife up, she felt abused and violated by his verbal assault, even more so than the physical assault in the rehab centre. It took all her concentration to keep her from vomiting as she realised her past had just jumped up and bitten her. And yet she knew it was defensiveness on Jonathon’s part too. By the time she had gotten rid of him, going out to celebrate was the last thing on her mind. She just wanted to crawl under the duvet and make the day end. She rang Matt and cried off the evening, saying she’d had a bad day at work and just needed to sleep. Sometimes she really wished she could say she felt sick, but that never worked with him; she needed to be more upfront.

“Oh, come on. Don’t let a bad day ruin your achievement,” Matt said when she called.

“I’m not. I’d just rather go out when I can really enjoy it.”

Matt let it go and Aoife was just climbing out of the bath, washing away the horrible feelings, and swallowing down the tears she refused to cry when her doorbell rang. She ignored it, but the person was persistent and eventually she gave in. She was mad as hell when she saw Matt outside.

“I said I just wanted to go to bed. Sometimes I just need to be alone.”

“I know you’re upset, I could hear it on the phone. You can just go to bed, but I’m coming with you. You need comfort.”

Aoife stripped off angrily and pulled on her woolliest, bulkiest pyjamas. Matt didn’t utter a sound of complaint like he usually did when she wore pyjamas. He climbed in beside her. He rubbed her shoulders and when she feigned sleep, he just continued rubbing. She wanted to be angry, but it was hard when she felt her body loosen up to his ministrations. She turned round to kiss him.

“Tell me about it,” he urged. And in spite of herself she did, tears rolling down her cheeks. Matt didn’t accuse her of being silly or touchy. Instead he said that Jonathon was a nasty bastard who obviously felt threatened when he had to attack Aoife like that.

“If the school didn’t think you were good at what you do, they would have sacked you back when you were in the hospital,” he reminded her. “So, this man thinks he can hold it over your head, but he’s wrong. You are still there, and your record was wiped, because they wanted you there. You do what you have to do for this child and to hell with Jonathon.”

It’s what she would have done anyway, but doing it with Matt by her side, believing in her took the fear out of it. He was right, Jonathon couldn’t hurt her. The school already knew. She curled up, safe in his arms, knowing as long as he was there, nothing could harm her.

Chapter Thirteen

Six months later, Aoife was sitting on her bedroom floor surrounded by boxes. Fiona came in with two glasses of wine and sat down beside her. She was acting as the quality control.

“Dump it,” she said as Aoife held up a skirt Fiona hadn’t seen her wear in years.

“But…”

“But nothing, you asked me here to do this. You won’t have space in Matt’s for all your clutter.”

“That’s it. I can’t do it. I can’t dump half of my life for a man.”

“Shut up and drink your wine. It’s not even fit for the charity bag, and you keep saying you’re not moving when we both know you are,” Fiona said, snatching the skirt from her and throwing it in the rubbish pile.

“Seriously, how do I know if it’s the right thing to do?”

“You don’t, you’re not psychic. But you have to take a chance in life. What if you say no and then he moves on? Do you want to lose him? To see him with another woman?”

“No.”

“Only an hour ago, you were going on and on about how great it would be to stop living between two places. And I swear, I was nearly getting sick on the gooey sweet things you were saying about him. You’re only moving in with the man. It’s not like you’re getting married. Honestly, I don’t know how he puts up with you. How many times has he proposed now?”

“A few times. What about this, keep or bin?” Aoife asked, changing the subject. They were skating on thin ice now.

“I never thought I would hear myself say this about Matt McDaid, but he has the patience of a saint.”

“He does not, and my ass bears the bruises to prove it,” Aoife replied, sticking her tongue out.

“He’d want to beat the backside of you first thing every morning, then again after lunch and dinner if he was to call you to heel,” Fiona laughed. “Seriously, I don’t know why you’re into that, but it’s your ass on the line. I didn’t think you would survive a week at his place when you got out of the hospital, but now you’re going back by choice. It’s obvious you love him, even if you don’t see it.”

Before she had time to reply, Aoife’s phone buzzed. She checked the message.

My office tomorrow at ten for a full prenuptial medical examination, Miss Devine. I want to ensure you are fully fit for the fortnight ahead.

Damn, his timing was good. She felt heat course through her entire body. All of her crazy doubts and insecurities evaporated, like they always did now when he was around. How could she not move in with him? He was everything she needed and then some. Hot, sexy, caring and loving. She was one lucky woman and there was no way she was letting him go. She quickly tapped in her reply, hoping her face wasn’t as flushed as it felt. Fuck it, she just had to tell Fiona.

Yes, doctor.

“You know this holiday tomorrow? Well, it’s our wedding and honeymoon in one,” Aoife admitted as she picked up an armful of old clothes, and without hesitation she threw them in the rubbish pile. Fiona spluttered on her wine.

“Oh, my God, you’re getting married. Congratulations!” Fiona squealed as she jumped up and squeezed the living daylights out of Aoife, spilling her wine in the process, luckily over the bundle of clothes for the bin.

“I can’t believe it. Aoife Devine is actually getting married,” she said again, shaking her head in disbelief. “The man-eating tigress has finally been tamed.”

At ten minutes past ten, Aoife arrived at the hospital. Matt hated her to be late for appointments. He said if every other patient could make it on time, she damn well could too. But it really wasn’t her fault. Not this time. He’d lent her his car to move her stuff to his apartment, and she had left in plenty of time. She should have texted him though, but truthfully, it had escaped her mind. Aoife knew she would spend at least part the first night of their trip in the corner with a very sore bottom. That was not how she had intended to start it. She had an idea; she switched off her phone. Nervously she rapped on his door.

“Come in, Miss Devine. You’re late,” a stern voice called through the very slightly ajar door. That tone! Forget butterflies, there was a flock of pigeons set loose in her tummy.

“I’m sorry, there was a car broken down at the car park entrance, I had to wait until it was pushed out of the way,” Aoife said, looking straight at him.

“You could have let me know.”

“I know, but I forgot my phone, Matt,” she fibbed. He glared at her. “Sorry, Dr. McDaid.”

Damn it, she really was messing up. It must be nerves about the fortnight ahead. Luckily, he let it go and accepted her excuse without question. Aoife breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t too often she got anything past him; he must be as nervous as she.

“You can undress now, and lie up on the couch.” First he locked his door, then he watched her strip, eyes devouring her even if his face remained impassive. She liked that. He might want to seem impervious to her charms, but she knew he loved her body, especially as she bared it bit by bit. Slowly she peeled off her layers, first her jacket, hanging it on the back of a chair. Then she pulled her top off. She was braless, but wearing a close-fitting vest. She made to lift it over her head.

“Leave it for now,” he told her, his eyes focusing on her nipples, erect and pushing through the fine cotton fabric. Her hands reached behind to the zipper of her skirt. She let it fall at her feet, then bent over and picked it up, making sure he had a full view of the white lacy thong he was so fond of.

“Sadly, you’ll need to remove those. Up on the couch.” His voice had gone gravelly and Aoife grinned covertly as she climbed up on the examination table. Matt left his spot and started laying the instruments out on the table. First the speculum, followed by the swabs and jars, then to her dismay, a needle and syringe.

“You didn’t say anything about bloods,” she protested. Aoife felt the perspiration on her forehead.

“No bloods, but you do need a tetanus booster. It’s just a little shot in the bum, it will only take a minute.”

“No, please. There’s no need.”

“There’s every need. If you’re going snorkelling, I’m not taking any risks.” He reached onto his shelf and pulled down a clear glass vial filled with liquid. Her heart was racing. He picked up the needle, attached it to the syringe, and sucked up the clear liquid and all the while, Aoife held her breath.

“Breathe,” he reminded her and she gulped in a big lungful of air. He lifted a cotton swab from the table, ripping it open. “Roll over onto your side.” Reluctantly she did so.

“Relax, you’ll barely feel it,” he coaxed. Aoife jumped and yelped as she felt cold sting her skin. “Only the alcohol swab,” he reassured. Dammit, why did she get off on fear so? Even as she trembled and tensed, she could feel her heart beat faster and her pussy tighten. And when the first prick of the needle eventually pierced her skin, there was masochistic pleasure in equal parts with fear. She felt the cold liquid disperse beneath her skin, the ejection of the needle, and Matt’s hand rubbing the spot, helping spread the liquid so she wouldn’t bruise.

“Good girl, that bit’s over,” he praised, gently rolling her back onto her back. She watched him lube up the speculum. Damn, if her pussy wasn’t weeping hard now. With a serious face he approached her and instinctively she raised her knees, placing her hands as fists underneath her bottom, raising herself for him.

“Well done. Tell me if it hurts, and we’ll slow down,” he promised. He parted the lips of her sex, brushing her clit with his fingers.

“Ooh, that’s good,” Aoife moaned with pleasure. But it was short-lived; the hard unyielding plastic found its target. She braced herself for the intrusion as he pushed the speculum deep inside, stretching her open against her resistance. Then to her horror, he was looking right up inside her. She hadn’t had to watch that the last time as she had been blindfolded. She groaned with embarrassment, not pleasure as his face contorted with concentration. Finally she felt the click, signalling he had found the right position. He took the swab, placed it in the bottle, and twisted the cap before removing the speculum, but ordering her to stay like that.

“How about anal sex?” he asked with a grin. Tension left her body; he’d remembered his boob from the last time, endearing him to her.

“Is that a threat?” she asked, her heart excitedly missing a beat. He’d been saying he was going to use her that way for months but she’d kept putting him off from nervousness. She liked his finger there, even a plug, but his cock was so big. The swab was in and out of her bottom hole by the time he replied.

“No, my dear, it’s a definite promise. Before we’re back in England, that beautiful arsehole will be mine. And really, you must learn to stop dribbling all over my couch.” He swatted her rear lightly. “Come on, dress yourself, we can go home now before I fuck you in my examination room.”

While retrieving her clothes, Aoife knocked her jacket on the floor. Matt bent over to pick it up for her, and as he did so, her phone fell out of her pocket, He looked at it, his mouth set firm, then bent down again, retrieved it, and handed it to her. Her excitement went to anxiety.

“No phone? I’m very disappointed you would lie rather than face the consequences.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to start our vacation in the corner; it was only a little fib.”

“The size isn’t relevant. Go and lean over my desk.”

“No, Matt, not here, please.”

“No arguments. I don’t want this hanging over us when we travel.” With feet that felt like two lumps of lead, she made her way across the floor to the desk and leaned over, her hands extended in front, holding onto the other side.

He picked up a wooden ruler from his desk.

“These are all coming on the sit spots and thighs, I’m afraid. I don’t want to go near where you got the shot.”

“You’re all heart, I’m su…” Aoife never got to finish her words of defiance as he rained an almighty whack down on her behind. She reached back and rubbed.

“Get them back on the desk. If you move them again, you’ll be getting that ass fucking here and now as a punishment.” Straight away she put them back in front of her. Matt continued spanking, left and right and all the way from the sit spots to the backs and insides of her thighs. The only thing preventing Aoife from screaming out was the knowledge that someone might hear her. She would die if any of Matt’s colleagues knew how he punished her. He paused in his spanking.

“I will not tolerate lies from you, Aoife, not now, not ever, is that clear? Go and press your nose right into that corner for ten minutes, young lady. Then we will continue.”

Naked, red-bottomed, doing corner time in a doctor’s examination was one of the most humiliating experiences of Aoife’s life, but she knew she had only herself to blame. Aoife was as disappointed in herself as Matt could possibly have been with her; after she had moved out of Matt’s she had promised herself that her lying, manipulative days were over, and here she was, falling at the first hurdle, and what a small hurdle it had been. If she had been honest, she would have gotten off a lot lighter.