The Commitment(2)

"I wish I could help you with that problem, Doctor Morgan."

He laughed. "I do as well. You'll help me later."

I smiled at the image of him dressed in his suit, his erection straining at his trousers.

"See you and it at six-forty five," I said, butterflies in my belly at the thought of him having his way with me at the restaurant.

"That's my good girl," he replied, his voice sounding pleased. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I said, his words eliciting a flood of warmth through me.

I ended the call and sighed, my body already warming to the thought of what would happen tonight.



The morning passed quickly and I ate a meager lunch I picked up from the deli across the street from my apartment. I spent the afternoon packing up the rest of my apartment. Most of the boxes that would be shipped to Africa were ready to go at my father's, but those things I'd donate or keep in storage were still waiting to be boxed up.

At about four o'clock, I took a taxi to my father's where my clothes were already packed for the trip. I said hello to my father and Elaine and then started to get ready, having a quick bath, shaving so that my skin was completely smooth, and then I did my hair and makeup. I unpacked my dress from the fundraiser and after fluffing it in the clothes dryer, I slipped it on. The final touch was the black velvet choker with the diamond pendant Drake had given me. My collar. Finally, I gathered up my coat and bag. I briefly popped my head in my father's office.

"Hi, Daddy," I said when he was no longer on the phone. He glanced up from his papers and smiled.

"You look lovely. How come you're ready so early?"

"I'm meeting Drake for a drink before dinner. We've got a lot to discuss."

My father nodded. "We'll meet you there at 7:30. I haven't been to the Russian Tea Room in ages."

"Drake loves the Tea Room. His dad took him there during a trip to Manhattan when Drake was first in college. They used to eat there regularly when his dad would visit. Drake's such a sentimental man."

I went to him and kissed his cheek. He smiled up at me, squeezing my hand on his shoulder, no more words being spoken between us. I turned and went to the door, still so amazed at how things had changed between my father and me in such a short while and it was all because of Drake.

When I glanced back, he was already back on the phone making plans for his run for office.



I took my father's limo service to Drake's apartment on 8th Avenue, texting him when I was outside. I climbed the stairs to the third floor loft, thinking back to the first time I went there and how he met me on the landing. When I opened the door, Drake was waiting for me in the entry, holding two shot glasses of Anisovaya.

"Ms. Bennet…"

"Dr. Morgan," I replied, unable to keep a grin off my face. "I see you've got everything well in hand."

"Always," he said, his eyes twinkling in that way that promised so much. "I hope to have you well in hand all evening. I hope you obeyed my orders about your manner of dress."

"Do you doubt it?"

"Of course not, but you have quite a will. One I intend to tame."

"Tame?" I said, matching his mock stern tone. "What could you possibly mean by that, Doctor?"

"Tame," he said, officiously, as he handed me the glass. "To make docile, tractable, obedient. To domesticate. To harness, to control."

We shot back the Anisovaya, the liquor burning down my throat, warming my belly. I'd come to associate the taste with pleasure, and a thrill of desire flooded through me at what would happen next.

"You like your women tame?"

"No," he said, taking the glass from my hands and placing them on the small table by the door. "After meeting you, I realized I like them quite the opposite. I like them wild, willful, self-prepossessed. What I love is taming them. I love the battle of wills." He removed my coat and hung it in the closet in the entry. Then he took me in his arms, one around my waist, pulling me against his body, the other brushing a lock of hair from my cheek. "I love the planning, the reconnaissance, the approach, the first engagement, the attack, the resistance, then the eventual surrender."

He had this look in his eyes, amusement and heat that sent my heart racing.

"But do you lose interest once you've conquered?" I said it without even thinking, but then, a sense of sadness went through me. "Once your adversary has surrendered, when there's nothing left to tame?"

He shook his head. "The wise general never totally destroys the spirit of the conquered. What good is a razed and barren landscape?"

I leaned my head against his chest, never really having thought about what Drake would do once he had my complete submission.