A Wifey for the Bad Boy(41)

“Wait, what happened?” Cathy asked, and Melissa experienced a moment of sheer terror, thinking he might tell Cathy about what had just transpired between them. Her rational mind knew that he never would, but there was a part of her very nervously anticipating something. It was in the air, that feeling before a bad storm. Named Glenn, apparently.

“You heard me, fender bender, older couple. They were a bit shaken up but didn’t want any medical assistance. I offered to call 911.”

“Doctor Glenn offered to check them out, but they were having none of it,” Melissa added, standing up, her purse clutched in her arms.

“Hrm,” Cathy said, and ended that in a small smile. “Maybe they have something to hide, like grandma and grandpa are jewel thieves or something like that. You never know what secrets someone else may be keeping. You know my neighbor down the block, George? Muscle bound? Yeah?” She gestured to Melissa, who nodded.

“Well, he’s on steroids. That’s how he gets those muscles. Can you believe it? I can’t. I’m totally shocked.”

“Me too,” Glenn quipped. “Let me get back to my paperwork, ladies. Melissa, about what we talked about...give it some thought.”

“I will.”



Melissa wasn’t quite sure why she said yes, but she had. And Dr. Glenn had taken the fact that she’d had her book and run with it. He seemed curious to know if her interest was just an exploration, a discussion of what might be titillating to read, rather than an opening into the life. Melissa still wasn’t quite sure why she said yes. Maybe it was Glenn, or maybe it was just her own interest in finding out where the books got it right and where they got it wrong.

Melissa had spent all day, all her one free Saturday month, trying to figure out what to wear. What was BDSM club chic? Should she go with a costume of some kind? Should she go with something that looked absolutely normal, and figure she might be out of place. She dithered about it all day, it wasn’t as if she could ask her friends none of her friends would’ve understood this, she tried to broach the subject with them before. None of them seemed interested in the lifestyle, none of them seemed at all interested in what Melissa might be attracted to and the power exchange. It wasn’t that they were bad friends, they just didn’t understand.

She finally decided to wear a pair of black jeans that hugged her long legs and a tunic top, cut really low in front, to expose her generous cleavage. Black seem like a safe choice for the pants, and the red of the shirt, would complement her dark complexion.

The Post was a place she’d only vaguely heard of, in whispered conversations at clubs her friends liked to attend; the places where Melissa didn’t fit in, the places that catered to cute girls. They’d driven past it, a warehouse on the water with a thick velvet rope, and they’d tried for months to figure out what was behind the doors. Google searches and even a scan of the county records hadn’t given them any insight, but slowly, gradually they’d figured it out, though they weren’t exactly interested in checking it out. They called it the freak market.

Glenn picked her up promptly, and she didn’t let him come to her door, though she knew he probably would have liked to. He was sort of courtly that way. But her place was a mess, Mom was sleeping off her latest bender, and Melissa hated anyone knowing this part of her life.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly, transitioning from nurse to…what? Was she part of a dating couple or were they just two people doing...what? Did she want something to happen tonight? Did she not? She had been clear she was only going as an observer rather than an actual participant, and he’d been clear that he would respect that.

“Good evening, Melissa,” he said, his voice rich and deep and sexy. She risked a glance over and saw he was wearing a black shirt, open at the throat, and black dress pants. With his thick, dark hair and his deep brown eyes, he looked unapproachable, miles away from the mild mannered doctor she knew.

Not to say his overall look wasn’t completely sexy, because it was.

Melissa loved seeing the side of him. It was a foregone conclusion that he was a dominant, it was steeped in his bones. It was also in his manner, though he only brought that out subtly at work. There had been something that had attracted her to him from the first day, even if she’d couched it in friends or doctor to nurse. Melissa was drawn to the energy that he had, the easy dominance with which he ran the office, the way he handed over power incrementally, as if the other had to be trusted for him to give over complete full rein. Their relationship had gone very smoothly, he’d given and she’d taken, she’d proven herself again and again, and he rewarded her with more responsibility and very regular and generous raises. He suggested that she might want to go to med school, but that wasn’t in the cards for her. Anyway, she liked being his nurse.