Shannon went to the outer office, closed the door behind her, and sat at the desk behind a small mountain of papers she needed to copy, fax, and file for various reasons.
Now that the excitement of the moment had passed, she was worried. It was obvious the doctor knew this guy pretty well, so maybe he could be trusted. But what if he couldn't be? What if Lindsay lost his practice over this? Everything that had just happened definitely went far outside the bounds of professional ethics. But the doctor hadn't seemed worried so maybe she shouldn't be either.
Still, she was relieved when the door opened and Lindsay and Damian seemed to be wrapping up a friendly conversation.
Damian stopped by her desk and took her hand in his. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Shannon. I will see you again very soon.” He kissed the back of her hand and left.
“Ready for lunch, kitten?”
“Yes, Sir.” She was sure he wouldn't want her slipping into calling him Master at the office as a habit.
He seemed to be in a good mood. Maybe things were less dire than she thought.
Lindsay glanced at Shannon as he drove. She seemed okay—maybe a little worried. He would have to explain part of things, but he wasn't ready to tell her everything.
The truth was, he was far too old for her. The kinds of things she needed—it was one thing to have been denied them all the years she'd been at the house. It was quite another to have them, and then lose them again due to their divergent ages.
After all, this was what had brought her to his office initially so many years ago. She'd been in what people called a total power exchange relationship, living in a dom/sub situation 24/7/365. It was a game so intense it felt as real as the situation she was in now with him.
The problem was when a relationship like that ended. Shannon had been dumped by her master with no real explanation except that he'd met someone else. She'd been with him for only two years, and yet, it had taken months of therapy to bring her back to a place where she could deal with life independently.
Her master had taken over so many aspects of her life, it was as though she'd had to relearn everything. That was when Lindsay had known he couldn't make her his. It wasn't a commitment issue. It was the fact that time and age were what they were.
Things might be great now, but some day he would become old and feeble. Maybe it would be much later than most people because he took such good care of himself, but time was cruel. If they both lived out their natural lifespans he would die long before her. And then what would happen to her?
He had to make sure she was taken care of, protected. He had to be sure she had someone for when he was gone. While it may be a very long time in the future and she might not even have any strong sexual urges by that point, this type of relationship was about far more than sex. And all those other needs would still be there even if the sex no longer was.
It was encoded into her DNA. Just like it was in his.
Damian was a good friend. And he was Shannon's age. A couple of years older, actually, but close enough. Lindsay wanted her to bond with him so that someday—hopefully very far in the future—she'd be able to easily transfer over to him.
The doctor was pleased to find her attracted to his friend, and she seemed comfortable with him. And he had definitely been pleased with her.
“Master? Is your license in danger? Will he say anything?”
“Damian isn't a patient, just a friend of mine. It was all just a game to work you up, kitten. He knew you were under the desk the whole time. Everything is safe.”
“Oh.”
They stopped at a red light and Lindsay turned to study her. She seemed relieved, not upset or betrayed. He wasn't sure why he'd felt the need to play it that way. He just wasn't prepared for questions about who Damian was or why she was playing with him so soon.
“He likes you a lot,” Lindsay said.
“Did he say anything about the scars?”
The light changed. “No. They aren't nearly as noticeable as you think they are now.”
“Okay, well he's not blind. They might not look as bad as they did in the beginning, but they're still bad. It's obvious... something bad happened.”
“Not necessarily. You know enough to know that not every scar comes from something tragic. There are plenty of people in our world with marks they proudly display.”
“These aren't those kind of marks.”
Lindsay sighed. “I know.”
“I wish I could get them removed,” she said quietly. “I know it would be expensive... but...”
“No. I don't want them removed.”
“What? Why?”
“I already looked into it, kitten. It's not the money. It can be a painful procedure, and there are no guarantees. As old as yours are, you might still have them even after going through all that. And I need them there. I can't let myself forget and ever risk something like that happening to you again. And I never want you to think that you're not enough as you are, or that you aren't beautiful to me... as you are. We both know that even if we could, erasing those scars won't erase the real damage. It won't get rid of the memories or the nightmares.”
She looked out the window, and he couldn't get a read on her. “Okay,” she said so softly he had to strain to hear her.
“If you want to see the information about it, I'll let you look. If you really wanted to do it, I would consider it, but I don't think it will do for you what you think it will.”
“Where are we going to lunch?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Dome.”
She smiled at that.
66
Shannon sat at the desk in the outer office staring at the impossibly tall stack of papers to file. It was Friday, and the doctor was all business. Fridays were his busiest day. It wasn't even lunch yet and already he'd seen four patients.
Friday was all work and no play. Like a real job. He hadn't done anything dirty with her, nor had he suggestively requested coffee through the intercom. Was he already tired of those games? Maybe he didn't have time for them.
She glanced at the clock. Almost lunch time. Maybe he would take her out for lunch. She'd enjoyed their lunch at Dome earlier in the week. She'd never had the opportunity to see Anton's spa. There was always a lot of chatter about it at the house, particularly from the new girls Anton had interviewed. Shannon had sadly never gotten that interview.
She quickly filed the stack of papers while he finished up with his last patient. Fifteen minutes later a redheaded woman in her late twenties stepped out and slid a charge card across the desk for Shannon to process.
She ran the woman's card and scheduled another appointment. When the patient had gone, Lindsay stepped into the outer office.
“Can we go out to lunch?” Shannon asked.
“I'm afraid not. Fridays are too busy for me. I normally order in from the cafe downstairs.” He laid a long envelope down on the desk.
“What's this?”
“It's your paycheck,” he said with a wink.
Shannon hadn't expected him to pay her. Now that she thought about it, it was pretty strange she hadn't handled money in eight years. She pulled the check out of the envelope.