"Oh, Drake, I want you to meet someone." Peter, one of Judge McDermott's lackeys, pulled me away from the group. "Has his own foundation. You might know him – Nigel Benson. Sir Nigel. Recently Knighted by her Majesty for his work on the West Africa famine."
Peter led me over to one of the tallest men in the room, a heavyset fellow with a smiling face and a shock of grey hair that seemed to fall perpetually into his eyes so that he was always brushing it back. He spoke with a thick British accent, which I could hear all the way across the room.
"Nigel, this is Drake Morgan. Chairman of the Liam Morgan Memorial Foundation. Careful with his hands," Peter joked. "Neurosurgeon."
Nigel extended a huge meaty hand to me and we shook, his grip crushing. "I've already had the pleasure," Nigel said, giving me a knowing smile. "Drake."
We’d met at a dungeon party he attended with his partner. It was only later, when we’d both been at a Doctors Without Borders fundraiser that we realized we shared a mutual friend in Ethan McDermott. I had to rely on his discretion not to out me to Ethan, but then again, that would out Nigel to him as well.
"Nigel," I said, smiling back. “Always good to see you.”
"Good to see you again, as well," Nigel said, smiling distractedly. "How's brain surgery? Keeping you out of trouble, I presume…"
I laughed, knowing exactly what he meant by that. "Always," I said, noting the saucy twinkle in Nigel's eye. "I really enjoyed Travels with Nigel." Nigel's latest episode of his travel show had aired on PBS on one of the few nights I stayed awake long enough to watch a repeat.
"Oh, yes," Nigel said, turning away. "Oh, there's Elaine. Excuse me," he said and nodded to me. "Nice talking to you again."
"You as well," I said, amused that Nigel had barely spoken more than two words to me. He was a social butterfly and flitted off to speak with Ethan's wife, Elaine.
I took the moment to find another group to join, listen in to what all the people were talking about. My world was so constrained – surgery, more surgery, playing with my cover band at small gigs, occasionally tying women up and fucking them senseless, more surgery. It was good to get out and mingle.
I put my drink on the table and made my way to the washroom. On my way out, I was shocked to encounter the pretty woman from the bar and for a moment, I was speechless. Before I could say something, she saw me and turned and tried to hop away, holding the pair of leather heels she'd been wearing at the bar in one hand while she steadied herself against the wall with the other. She'd obviously fallen, her knees scraped and bloody, her palms scuffed.
Her cheeks reddened when I approached her and I knew she was embarrassed that I found her in her current condition.
“You're hurt,” I said as I went to her, looking at the heels she held. “Those shoes again?”
"Yes," she responded quietly. "I fell outside in the alley. The heel of my shoe broke."
"Here," I said and put my arm under hers so I could pick her up and carry her into the bedroom.
"Whoa," she said, her body resisting. "You don’t have to pick me up."
"Don't worry. You're light as a feather." I glanced down her body to her feet. Her stockings were ripped, her ankle and knees bloody as well, bits of dirt and gravel in the wound. "You've probably sprained your ankle."
Her hands went around my neck and I carried her down the hall to a bedroom at the rear of the apartment. I placed her on the bed, and sat across from her. In the process, her dress had hiked up, the tops of her sheer black stockings and black lace garters on display. Despite the awkward situation, I couldn't help but respond to the sight of her sprawled on the bed, her legs slightly open. The vision sent a jolt to my dick, which throbbed in appreciation.
When she realized she was exposed, she quickly pulled her dress down to cover herself.
"Oh, I'm sorry…" she said, her cheeks blazing.
I smiled. "Don't worry." I took her injured foot and examined it, noting the abrasions to the skin. "I'm a doctor."
She removed her coat and covered her lap with it as if in protection from my gaze. "Still, you shouldn't have to see that."
"Oh, I don't mind." I grinned without meeting her eyes as I checked her ankle for dislocation but it looked fine. "I don't mind at all." Seeing her garters and the fact she wore stockings made me a little giddy. She was a little thing, but I suspected she was also adventurous, given her garters. I wondered if she would be adventurous enough to let me tie her up with my soft leather bindings and make her come three times in a row without stopping. At that moment, there was nothing else in the world I wanted more.