Doctor Heal Thyself [Internet Bonds Series Book 5] Page 9

  "Do you want to come, slave?"

  "Yes, Master Ross. Yes!"

  "Come for me, Sheridan. While you do, I want your nipples in my mouth."

  "Yes ... Yes...” she cried out, drowning his hand while she held her breast so he could suckle her nipple. She leaned to him, placing her tit to his lips, then she grabbed his shoulders for support while they pushed each other's limits.

  Ross suckled her tit, then caught the other, her breasts definitely nature's artwork. He had fallen hard for her, wanting her in his bed and in his life.

  Ross suddenly woke, looking around. His cock straining against his jeans, he tried to ease his ache. He never considered calling Yelena or Erika.

  "My God, Sheridan, I want you as my wife!"

  * * * *

  For weeks, Yelena held the four of them together. They took shifts at the hospital and when he had come out of the coma, Yelena had been the first to see Ross and the first person he laid eyes upon.

  He'd told her to bring Sheridan to see him but she sidestepped his wishes, telling him the good doctor was either at a conference or involved with patients.

  She neglected calling Mistress Stasia while not informing Ross of her call. Yelena waged war against anyone who'd help him get together with Sheridan, convinced the doctor was all wrong for him.

  "My God, Sheridan, I want you for my wife."

  She heard him say the words she dreaded when she entered the den. They burned into her soul, hurting her but she'd change his mind and make sure he would come to her, needing her—Yelena, not the damned doctor.

  Taking a deep breath, she went to him.

  "Can I get you anything?"

  "Have you tried Sheridan again?"

  "She's still out of town."

  "Damn it!” he cursed, sitting back in his leather chair, lost in his thoughts.

  "Master?"

  "What the hell happened? Why did she leave?"

  "She didn't offer any explanation."

  "Damn it!” he cursed again.

  "Ross?"

  "Leave me. I don't want to be disturbed until Warren comes up around noon or if Sheridan calls."

  "Yes, Ross,” she said before quietly leaving him. She ran to her room, angered by Sheridan Greenlaw's continued presence in her life—in his life. I've got to get rid of her.

  * * * *

  Ross pulled out his laptop and searched for Sheridan's patient, Suzette Foley. He found only one item referencing her—an article detailing her murder. She'd been found in the National Forest near Sun Valley, a victim of murder, dead several days before her body had been discovered in a secluded area. A more intense search found her small car hidden in some nearby brush.

  "At least you won't hurt Doc anymore,” he mused.

  Another article caught his attention. An Irishman convicted and in prison for rape and murder in London had escaped custody. In the wake of his escape, the judge, prosecutor and psychiatrist had been murdered, something he swore he would do at sentencing. One remained alive from the quartet involved in his sentencing who he swore revenge against but Scotland Yard had yet to be able to locate the American therapist who recommended his incarceration.

  Reading further, he learned Scotland Yard had no clue where Seamus Melvin had gone, though they actively sought any and all information leading to his recapture. On the loose for several weeks, authorities hoped they would find him before he murdered again.

  Searching for more on Seamus Melvin, Ross learned of his membership in the Irish Republican Army and some of his reported exploits. Wanted as a suspect in the deadly bombing of a church, the authorities had only circumstantial evidence about his role in it, though they knew him to be an explosives expert. He read more about the case sending Melvin to jail, though he couldn't find the name of the therapist testifying before the court.

  He couldn't begin to understand why this had piqued his curiosity the way it had. For the hell of it, he called a friend of his in London to get an update on the case.

  "What was the name of the therapist?"

  "I don't remember. It happened several years ago. All I know is the doctor was highly respected and American."

  "Anything else, Timothy? Anything at all?"

  "Not offhand. Do you want me to call you if I learn anything?"

  "I would appreciate it. It could mean nothing, but then again..."

  "I'll get back to you."

  Ross hung up, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Somehow, deep inside, he knew Sheridan was the therapist at the Melvin trial, her life in danger unless Melvin changed his mind. But when he looked deeper into both the Melvin case and the girl found in Sun Valley, he winced—all of it way too coincidental.

  He prayed Sheridan had gone to an out-of-state conference, ruing the fact he couldn't physically go to her. Bentley would have fits if Ross left the ranch so soon after leaving the hospital.

  Restless and on edge, Ross left the room and went upstairs. He headed toward his suite—his safe haven from the world—but stopped in front of the one Sheridan occupied during her stay at the Spread R Bar.

  In her suite of rooms, Ross took in her scent—Sheridan mixed with gardenia. His cock swelled, his need for her intense.

  "Sheridan, why did you leave?"

  He lay on the bed, her scent heavy on the pillow she used. He pulled it close, his head on it. Falling asleep, his body craved what amounted to forbidden fruit.

  * * * *

  "Bentley."

  "Bill, it's Anastasia."

  "Stasia, how are you?"

  "Fine."

  "What can I do for you?"

  "Simple, tell me how Ross is."

  "He's better but something is driving him."

  "You have to mean someone."

  "I never could pull anything over on you, could I?"

  Stasia laughed.

  "What's the story?"

  "Her name is Sheridan and it seems she's nowhere to be found. I gave Yelena Ross’ message to bring her to the hospital but from what I can tell, she never showed."

  "I don't think Yelena called her. I commanded Yelena to call me once Ross came home or out of the coma and I have yet to hear a thing."

  "He came home this morning against my better judgment."

  "Give my dear Master Ross this message—come to Sun Valley and stay at my place until you get settled.” Bentley wrote it down verbatim, along with her address and phone number.

  "I'll see he gets this."

  "When Yelena and the others are not around. If Sheridan left while he was in the hospital, I'm sure Yelena's responsible. She's always had a thing for him."

  "So did you, if I remember right."

  "I did and it's why I'm sticking my two cents into this. If he's found love with this Sheridan, he needs no complications. Yelena has to be stopped."

  "I will tell him as soon as I see him."

  "Great, now tell me everything about what happened until now and if I need anything special when he comes here."

  * * * *

  Stasia hung up, queasy from what Bentley had told her. She knew Ross’ history and knew he had to be going though hell over Sheridan—her Slave Sherry. “Leave it to Ross to harness perfection."

  She called Ridge and had him prepare the VIP suite for Master Ross’ arrival.

  "Do you want anything special?"

  "He's a cowboy but he's my master. I owe him for everything I have, meaning you do, too. Whatever he desires, he gets."

  "Yes, Mistress."

  "Do you have any idea where to find a walking stick for a rancher?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "Good. Until this is ready, your concentration will be on what we have discussed."

  "Yes, Mistress."

  * * * *

  Seamus Melvin had spent several days watching his target and learning nothing of any use.

  "I'm disappointed in you. I thought you'd be a little more lively,” he mused to no one.

  He'd noticed when a man escorted her home mid
day the first day he set up his surveillance. She'd gone out once or twice but her trips to her office and a convenience store told him nothing. One thing he needed to know—the status of her practice. Considering how much time she spent at home, how did she keep her practice viable? But then again, won't her office be the perfect place to end her life and satisfy my plan of revenge?

  Melvin settled back to watch more of Sheridan Greenlaw's life.

  * * * *

  "Ross Beckham,” he answered half-awake and trying to remember where he had fallen asleep.

  "Ross, you asked me to get what I could on the Melvin trial."

  "Yes, Timothy,” Ross said, his mind quickly recalling one of the first calls he'd made about the case.

  "You gave me most of the specifics. Melvin's MO includes how they found the victim in the National Forest near Sun Valley. There are several unsolved cases in England and Ireland. He is wanted by the Irish authorities for suspected acts of terrorism on behalf of the IRA."

  "The trial. Who is listed as the sex therapist who recommended his sentencing for the rape convictions?"

  "An American named Sheridan Greenlaw."

  "Why did an American have such a high profile position in his trial?"

  "Because of her credentials from not only American universities, but two British ones as well. She's a smart lady."

  "So, she's a target for this guy and Scotland Yard has done nothing?"

  "They tried to contact her but haven't been able to reach her."

  "Do they have any clues where Melvin is, aside from his possible connection to the murder victim?"

  "No, sir."

  "Keep on it and thanks."

  Ross hung up. What more could go wrong? He knew she needed to be warned but he couldn't call her. To start with, she might not believe him, or even want to hear from him considering the way she left the ranch. Besides, he couldn't truly link the murdered girl with Melvin. The only thing he knew for sure—the girl had ruined a good woman by questioning Sheridan's professional credentials. She deserved punishment but not what she got.

  Ross got up from where he'd spent a lonely night in her bed and left the room to take a hot shower. He ached and needed the soothing heat of the water running over his body.

  "Who am I kidding? I need Sheridan."

  Coming back to the same revelation over and over drove him to make the decision to go after her once his body allowed it. Physically, he remained in limbo, needing to heal from the surgeries, while relearning how to walk again. The fact he killed the bear that charged him and caused his current state made it a bit easier to accept, though not much.

  Without realizing it, Ross had been pacing back and forth—his leg answering the new challenge. Dressing in a tee shirt and shorts, he headed to his private workout room on the first floor. He tried to begin slowly, but desire for Sheridan pushed him.

  After a while, he left the room sore and spent, though he did one more thing before he showered. The pool called to him, Ross diving in. The chilly water cooled his heated body but not to the point of shocking it. He did a few laps, then pulled himself to the side and rested.

  "Ross, what do you think you're doing?” Yelena screamed.

  "Getting my life back."

  * * * *

  Yelena watched Ross come from the workout room, then dive into the pool. She tore out of the house meeting him at the shallow end when he surfaced to rest.

  "Ross, what do you think you're doing?"

  "Getting my life back."

  "But it's way too soon. Doctor Bentley emphatically stated..."

  "Yelena, I have things that need to be taken care of."

  "Nothing is more important than your health."

  "My health is fine. It's time and you know it."

  "What is so damned important?"

  "Careful, Yelena, before you overstep..."

  "I'm concerned about your recovery. If you..."

  "I can't sit back and watch my life go down the drain."

  "A few weeks and you'll..."

  "A few weeks may end up being too late."

  "Ross, I think you're ex..."

  "If I am exaggerating things, tell me why she left."

  "I don't know. We came back from the hospital one night and found her gone. She'd taken everything you'd been kind enough to give her and fled."

  She watched Ross waiting for his next move or question. When he got out of the pool, she prayed he would not decide to go into the pool house, breathing a sigh of relief when he didn't. She followed him inside, hoping to serve him but since he'd come back to the ranch, he'd shown no interest in either her or Erika.

  "Yelena, please stop following me around. I can take care of myself."

  "Yes, Ross, I know you can. I was thinking..."

  "Not now, Yelena,” he said, cutting her off. She watched him head up to his suite and sighed, tears welling in her eyes. Somehow, she had to drive Sheridan Greenlaw from his mind. Things at the Spread R Bar had to return to the way they had been before she showed up. Somehow, she'd make sure it happened.

  * * * *

  Sheridan answered the doorbell at her home and gasped.

  "Mistress Stasia, please come in,” she said, closing the door and immediately presenting herself to her mistress.

  "Thank you. I wanted to see how well you've accepted the piercings."

  "So far, I've had no problems."

  "Let me see, Slave Sherry."

  "Yes, Mistress, where would you like to..."

  "Your room will be fine ... for now."

  "Follow me, Mistress,” Sheridan said, catching what Stasia inferred.

  Stasia followed Sheridan to her bedroom, the one room where a person showed their true personality—the one they kept hidden from the world. She quickly glanced around the room noticing Ross’ influence. The gardenia plant on a table near the window did not escape her notice. God, have you got it bad...

  She turned back to Sheridan, pleased she'd already removed her clothes and waited for her mistress’ next command.

  "Very nice, slave."

  "Thank you, Mistress. Your desire?"

  "I want you to hold your delicious tits up for my inspection."

  Without hesitation, Sheridan obeyed. She held her breasts up for Stasia while her mistress checked both piercings finding no adverse reactions. She decided to see how far Sheridan might be ready to go.

  "Slave, you told me your master sent you away."

  "Yes, Mistress."

  "Do you still desire to be dominated?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "Would you be willing to be my slave?"

  "Yes, Mistress, I would. I had planned to come ask you..."

  "Excellent. Shall we start now?"

  "Please, Mistress, I am your servant."

  "My rules are as follows. You will call me Mistress, Slave Sheridan. You will present your luscious body by kneeling, hands behind you, head bowed."

  Sheridan immediately dropped to her knees.

  "Yes, Mistress."

  "I do not share my slaves as a rule, except with my master, if he so desires. Do you have a problem with that?"

  "No, Mistress."

  "Very good. Now, stand, go to your window and open it. It is a lovely night and I want to see you bathed in the lights of the evening.” She watched Sheridan go to the French doors leading to her secluded deck overlooking the lake. “Stand in the doorway, arms out with your hands gripping the door jamb, feet spread apart. Very, very nice...” Ross did an excellent job...

  Stasia removed her coat, leaving her in a black corset and thong. She walked over to Sheridan, running her long fingernail down Sheridan's spine. She traced Sheridan's sensually curved ass, her fingertip pressing against Sheridan's anus. Noticing her breath catch, Stasia continued exploring her slave's body.

  Walking onto the deck, she gazed at Sheridan in the waning moments of the sunset. Even though Sheridan's body screamed for release, Stasia's intent was to prolong Sheridan's agony a little while longer.
She liked the fact Sheridan had remembered to shave her mons, another testament to her total devotion to Ross.

  Stasia stood before her, desiring her slave while regretting she would have to give her back to Ross, though until that time, she wanted to enjoy the fruits of forbidden treasure. She feathered kisses on Sheridan's neck, working her way to her shoulders, then lower. Her hands grasped Sheridan's breasts, holding them together. Her tongue flicked over the newly pierced but highly aroused buds, Sheridan's body jumping.

  "You will not come until I permit it,” she reminded Sheridan.

  "Yes, Mistress, I understand."

  "Good."

  Stasia continued her assault on Sheridan Greenlaw's senses, driving her to the edge several times. When Stasia nipped at her sensitive nipples, Sheridan threw her head back, working hard to hold her reactions. Slowly, Stasia tortured Sheridan's nipples while her finger went straight for her core. In one quick stroke, she drove two fingers deep into her slave's pussy—hot, wet and very ready. Sheridan almost lost what little control she had left.

  "Kiss me, slave, while I fuck your cunt and you drown my hand in your delicious essence."

  Stasia's mouth covered Sheridan's, their tongues dancing. Sheridan moaned as the orgasm washed over her, Stasia taking her screams within her. Once she came, Sheridan's body threatened to collapse until a cool breeze from the water magically revived her.

  "Slave Sheridan, your mistress needs release."

  "Yes, Mistress, where..."

  "Your bed will do. I want you to strip my clothes off, then drink from my pussy."

  Eagerly, Sheridan removed her mistress’ clothes, folding the garments neatly before placing them on the cedar chest at the end of her bed. She helped Stasia get comfortable, then knelt between her legs. Sheridan placed her hands on Stasia's breasts, playing with her firm nipples while she lapped at her mistress’ pussy.

  Stasia spread her legs wider, sitting up. Sheridan squeezed her nipples while she licked Stasia's clit.

  "Hurry, slave, don't make me wait,” she commanded, pressing Sheridan's lips closer. Stasia cried out, Sheridan drinking from her, her tongue dancing over her mistress’ cunt. She fell back on the bed while Sheridan continued to drive her mistress to come.