Her Old-Fashioned Boss (19 page)

“But it’s so hard. He’s so beautiful.”

“Beautiful,” Sam with mock-outrage. “I’m not beautiful. I’m rugged. Handsome. Manly.”

She stared at him a long moment. “Nope,” she said with a grin. “I’m still sticking with beautiful. Women would kill for eyelashes like you have and they’d spend a fortune on hairdressers to get that shade of white-blond hair.”

Sam puffed his chest out. “Are you impugning my manliness, woman? I demand restitution!” He jumped on her, careful not to give her too much of his weight as he started tickling her.

“No, no, Sam,” she screamed, rolling around, trying to escape as she laughed uproariously. “Roarke, save me!”

“You brought it on yourself, little one,” Roarke said with an evil smile before he turned away. “I’ll meet you two upstairs. I’ll be in the shower.”

Sam and Ava stopped and looked at each other. “Shower sex,” the yelled together, racing out the door after Roarke.

*****

Roarke opened the door to the doctor’s surgery then gestured for Ava to walk through. She loved the way he opened doors for her and always insisted on carrying any bags. He’d given her ‘the stare’ just that morning when he’d caught her trying to fix a leaky tap. Ava had learned to do everything for herself, but she had to admit that it was nice to have someone else to lean on.

“You guys don’t have to go in with me you know,” Ava said nervously as they sat in the doctor’s waiting room. Sam had already spoken to the receptionist

“Yes, we do,” Roarke countered.

“But I’m sure you’ve got things to do, you can just send Max to pick me up.” Roarke had driven them all this morning.

“Ava. We are coming in with you. Calm down, please.”

She heard the soft warning in his voice. She’d already been threatened with a spanking twice today. With a soft huff, she sat back and folded her arms. Nerves were making her short-tempered and argumentative. And this was only a visit to a general practitioner, what would happen when it was time to visit a therapist?

“Ava Scott?”

She glanced up at the deep voice, swallowing heavily as a large, handsome man smiled over at them, his grin growing when he saw Roarke and Sam.

“Roarke! What are you doing here? I don’t have an appointment with you, do I?” he asked, coming over to shake Roarke’s hand. Roarke stood and shook it with a grin.

“Good to see you, Ian. No, the appointment’s not for me. It’s for my sub, Ava.”

Ian quickly hid his surprise, turning to her with a gentle smile. “Hello, Ava. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too, Sir,” she replied, leaning against Roarke slightly.

There was something a bit intimidating about the big doctor, although his eyes seemed kind. They were large and brown, surrounded by the most amazingly long lashes. His chestnut-colored hair was neatly trimmed. He actually topped Roarke by a few inches and his body was pure muscle.

“And you, Sam? How are you?” He turned that intense gaze onto Sam.

“Fine thanks, Sir. And you?”

“Good. Busy, I don’t get to the club as much as I wish I could. Perhaps I’ll have to make more of an effort. Then I might have snagged Ava here before you did,” he continued, after gesturing them to follow him to his office.

Ava held Sam’s hand tight as she followed Roarke.

Roarke snorted. “Not a chance, buddy. And we didn’t meet Ava at the club. She’s my personal assistant.”

Ian looked really surprised as he moved behind his desk. Roarke held a chair for Ava, and all three men waited until she sat before they did.

“That so? Stretching that ‘no fraternizing with the employee’s rule’, are you?”

“Only for one,” Roarke said warmly, smiling over at Ava.

“So, what can I do for you all?” Ian asked.

“Ava has an eating disorder,” Roarke told him.

*****

Sam held the back door of the car open for Ava, but instead of hopping into the front, he climbed in beside her.

“Seatbelt's on,” Roarke ordered as he hopped in the front. Both of them wrinkled their noses at him, as if they hadn’t been in the process of doing just that. Instead of sitting over to one side, Sam sat in the middle. He drew Ava’s belt across then did the same for himself before pulling her into his arms.

“Okay, baby?” he asked, holding her tight.

“Yeah,” she said, but she trembled against him.

“I know how hard that was, but it was for the best.”

As soon as Roarke had blurted out about Ava’s eating disorder, she’d gone stiff and white. Sam had actually come close to hitting him, even though he knew that getting everything out there was probably the best thing. She’d worked herself up into a state worrying about seeing the doctor.

Ian had treated her like the pro he was, with plenty of compassion and more than a small bit of firmness when she’d hesitated over her answers. He’d given her a thorough check-up and had called the hospital for her blood results.

She was anemic and underweight. He’d recommended vitamins, a nutritionist and a therapist. They also had a prescription for some iron tablets. Sam would be taking a trip to the market to get some red meat as soon as they got home.

“Yeah, just pretty tired.”

“No wonder, you worked yourself up pretty good. It wasn’t that bad, was it?” he asked gently.

“No,” she sighed. “Ian’s good. Bossy, but good.”

“He’s a Dom, baby. Being bossy is a given.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to find time to see the therapist, I wonder if the therapist works after hours.” Ian had given them the name of an excellent therapist specializing in eating disorders.

“You’ll be going to the first appointment we can get,” Roarke said as he pulled into their place. He pulled into the garage off to the side. They had a private staircase from the garage that went straight up to the third floor.

“But I’ve got work to do,” she protested as Sam climbed out then held out his hand, helping her out. He loved doing things like this for her, such little things but they fulfilled him, they made him feel needed.

“Work can wait. Nothing is as important as your health. You’ll go as often as you need to, understand?” Roarke said firmly.

“Roarke, anyone ever tell you that you’re extremely bossy?” she snapped. A kitten scratching at a tiger.

Roarke grinned. “Only for the first year I was with Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes and winked at her. “For all the good it did me, I think he’s grown bossier over the years.”

“I’ve got to work tonight,” Roarke said as they walked into their apartment. “And I’ve got some things to do first. Why don’t you two get some DVDs?”

“Or we could come to the club with you?” she said hopefully. Sam knew she was dying to get into the club. He’d caught her trying to spy on people entering the other night. But you couldn’t see much from the third floor because of the large porch roof. He also knew that Roarke didn’t think she was ready for the club yet. Sam kind of agreed. Besides, Roarke wouldn’t be able to concentrate if they were there with him.

“I don’t think so, honey. Stay in with Sam. He’ll take care of you.”

Sam wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I certainly will.”

She grinned. “You’re incorrigible.”

*****

A box of chocolates had become the bane of her existence. She glared over at them, pacing up and down the bedroom. She needed to hide them. Kind of hard to hide them from yourself though. She could get Sam to hide them. But then she'd have to explain what the problem was.

That she couldn't control herself from gorging on a box of chocolates.

Her stomach grumbled. She was hungry, which was part of the problem. But not for an apple or banana, no she wanted creamy chocolate with a sweet center.

Her mouth salivated as she rubbed her hands down her pants.

Throw them out.

But Tilly had given them to her. A shy, sweet submissive in training, she'd been thanking Ava for helping her a few days ago when she'd been upset over an incident in the club. One of the other subs in training, Rory, was a bully and a bitch. She constantly picked on Tilly to the point that the other girl had run off. The subs trainer, Alex, had taken Tilly to task, giving her a warning. Another warning and she'd be kicked out, a truly devastating prospect for her.

Ava had calmed her down, given her a shoulder to cry on and today Tilly had turned up with a bunch of flowers and a large box of chocolates.

No, she couldn't just throw the chocolates out.

Go to Roarke. Find Sam. Tell them.

She had to be stronger than this. Turning, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was gaining weight. Her cheeks were fuller, her stomach curvier. Her men were constantly upsizing her meals.

Biting her lip, she sat on the floor, shudders working their way through her.

Fat. She would get fat. Panic raced through her. She couldn't get fat.

“Dammit, stop it!” she told herself fiercely.

“Stop what, sweet?” Sam asked from the doorway. He peered down at her and she could see the worry in his eyes. “What's wrong? You're pale. You've been crying.”

“I'm weak and I'm a freak,” she told him, more tears dripping down her cheeks.

His gaze narrowed. “You most certainly are not.”

He sat beside her on the floor and held her tight on his lap. “What are you talking about?”

“I can't control myself. I need to, I want to...” she broke off with a sob, burying her face in his neck.

Sam rubbed his hand up and down her back. “Did you chew and spit something?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “No, but I want to, so bad. It's the chocolates fault.”

“The chocolate?”

“On the bed. Tilly gave them to me. I can't help myself. I’m trying so hard, but I’m scared I’m going to fail. I’m so weak.” Nausea bubbled in her stomach and she rubbed it, trying to soothe herself.

“Have you had any?” he asked.

“No, I'm afraid to. I'm scared that once I start, I won't be able to stop.” She pressed her lips together to hold back the sobs.

“Okay, that's a good girl.” Sam kissed her forehead and grabbing her hand, squeezed it. “Why didn't you come for me or Roarke, though? It's clear how distressed you are.”

“I can't keep running to you guys. I need to learn to work through this myself.” She’d had a couple of bad episodes. Each time, Roarke or Sam had listened to her, talked to her. Sometimes they ended up just cuddling her, sometimes she’d just kneel at Roarke’s feet while he worked or lie with Sam on the couch. Other times they’d end up making her scream with orgasm after orgasm. And it had helped, a lot. But she was scared to rely on them too much. What if they got sick of her?

Sam leaned back and tilted her face up. “No, baby, I think that's the exact opposite of what you need to do. You've been relying on yourself for too long. You need to learn to lean on someone else. Lean on me, on Roarke. We'll take care of you.”

God that sounded so great. With a shudder, she buried her head against his shoulder and just basked in the safety of his arms.

“We’re here for you, baby. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you. Right now, I just need a hug. Hold me, please?”

“Always.”

Chapter Nine

Nerves pounded through her stomach. Her friends were due for dinner in an hour and she wanted everything to be perfect. It was so important to her that they like Roarke and Sam. They’d met each other a few times, but she wanted them all to get along. Her friends were like her family, but Roarke and Sam were everything.

The smell of something burning hit her nostrils and Ava cried out in dismay as she jumped for the range. “Oh no, the dessert!”

 As she opened up the door, her eyes watered at the gust of hot air which assaulted her. Quickly grabbing up a couple of dish towels, she scooped the tray of brownies out. Swinging round, she put them down on the bench. Horrified, she looked on as the large bowl of chicken  salad teetered on the edge of the bench, knocked forward by the tray.

Jumping, she knew she’d be too late. The bowl slammed to the ground, spaghetti and chicken flying everywhere.

“Oh no, oh no,” she cried out, falling to her knees.

“What is it? What's wrong?” Sam asked as he raced into the kitchen

“My salad! Dinner is ruined!”

“What's happened? I heard yelling. Are you guys all right?” Roarke appeared, his face tense and pale. He eased slightly as he saw the two of them. Stepping over to Ava, he peered down at the salad. “Baby, are you okay? Have you hurt yourself?”

“My salad is ruined,” she told him pitifully. “I don't have time to make more.”

He clasped her face in his hands. “Shh, it’s just a salad. It will be fine.”

“No, it won't. It's ruined. I just wanted things to be perfect.”

“Everything will be fine.”

“No, it won't,” she repeated stubbornly. “My first dinner party and I can't even get the food right. I wanted them to like you. I want you to like them.”

“I don't think chicken salad will have much to do with us liking each other,” Sam told her reasonably. She glared over at him and he wiped the smile off his face. “And anyway, we already like each other.”

Tears filled her eyes.

“Okay, enough of this,” Roarke said firmly. “You've been stressing yourself out over this for the last week. You're exhausted and you need to calm down.”

“Why don’t we just order something in? Maybe some Thai?”

“I guess,” she said, feeling embarrassed over her reaction. Talk about making a big deal over nothing.

“Tell you what, why don’t you go and order us some dinner then sit down for a bit,” Roarke suggested.

“But the mess—”

“We’ll clean it up,” he reassured her, turning her towards the door.

“I’ve got to whip the cream for the brownies, Roarke,” she complained.