14 Lindsey
Lindsey
“DID YOU MEET SOMEONE?”
I look up from my phone at the hospitalist, Dr. March—or Billie, when we go by first names. One of her hands is on her round hip, and she’s smirking at me. I slip my phone in my pocket and pick up a clipboard from the nurse’s station desk.
“No, why would you think that?”
She snorts. “You’ve been glued to your phone every time I see you, and when we passed each other in the hall earlier, I said hi, but you didn’t hear me because you were engrossed in something on it.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. Nathan asked me a similar question the other day, and now Billie. I really suck at being discreet; I’m going to have to get better.
“Not a guy,” I say, which is technically true. Sir is not simply a guy—he’s a Dom. Officially my Dom after we finished our meeting and signed the agreement just after midnight last night. It’s still surreal to think about, but it happened. Which is why I’ve been glued to my phone.
“You sure?” she asks.
I look up from the clipboard. It’s an intake form for a patient in the waiting room. They have a stomachache and a runny nose, probably the stomach bug that’s been going around. That will be an easy one to take care of—fluids, electrolytes, maybe an anti-nausea medication.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say.
“Then what’s got you so interested?”
“I’m reading a new thriller,” I respond almost too easily. “Can’t put it down.”
Billie’s eyes narrow. “I love thrillers—what’s it called?”
I rack my brain for the name of Elijah Astor’s book, a semi-local here in town. I know it, but it’s the last thing I’ve been thinking about, and by the look on Billie’s face, she knows it, too.
“Dr. March, you’re needed in room three,” another nurse calls from down the hall.
Billie walks past me and grins. “Text me the title of that book. By the look on your face, it seems titillating.”
If she’d stuck around to see my reaction, she’d have seen my blush. The book, aka my messages with Sir, are very titillating, but not in the way she’s thinking.
I set down the clipboard, grateful today so far hasn’t been as busy as it was yesterday.
But I’m only a couple of hours into my shift, and some people are just waking up for their day since it’s just after nine AM.
It could get busier, but it’s hard to know when you live in a small town.
Some days we have nobody, and other days?
It’s as if the entire town gets hurt and sick.
Before I go and get my next patient, I take out my phone and check the messaging app I downloaded last night upon Sir’s request. There’s a new message from him, and my stomach flips upon seeing it.
I wonder if I’ll ever get used to seeing notifications from him or if I’ll always be excited and nervous when they pop up. In this case, I’m more nervous.
Why? Because I sent my morning check-in right before the extra shift I took started at seven, even though I was supposed to message him at 5:15 AM.
I’d agreed to text him as soon as I woke up, confirming I was up and starting my new routine on time.
It sounded easy enough when we were negotiating it last night, but apparently, not so much.
I was to wake up at least one-and-a-half hours before work or wherever I needed to be for the day.
Stretch for ten minutes, meditate for ten minutes, have my coffee, shower, get ready, pack my meals for the day, then go to work or do whatever else was on my schedule for the day.
Then at night, I’d reserve an hour before I went to sleep for winding down.
That could include a bath, my nightly check-in with Sir, and my five minutes of journaling.
I still had a chance to get the evening routine right, but I’d screwed up the morning one royally.
I attempt to shove down my embarrassment along with my nerves as I open Sir’s message.
Sir
Good morning, Lindsey. I see your message to me came in late. What happened?
He knows I’m at work and will not always be able to answer right away, just like he clarified he won’t always be able to see and respond to my messages immediately.
We both have lives outside of our agreement, and I know he has other clients and his online persona, too.
But since I’m on the app, he can see that I’ve read it.
Might as well answer now before I take in my next patient.
Me
I had a hard time falling asleep, Sir. When my alarm went off, I didn’t think twice before I hit snooze.
Sir
I see. And why did you have a hard time falling asleep?
Would saying “Because I was thinking about you” be inappropriate?
Probably. Especially in the context I was thinking about him.
I may have stayed up a bit too late after our meeting scrolling my platonic Dom’s channel and looking at his new wood-chopping videos.
He said we had to be honest, but I don’t really want to be honest about that.
Me
I was keyed up after our meeting and went down a Loopr wormhole.
Okay, that was honest. I don’t have to give him the content of said Loopr wormhole, but what I said was true. The little bubbles that indicate he’s typing pop up for a few seconds before his new message appears.
Sir
I’m going to assume that the rest of your planned morning routine fell apart due to your later wake-up, which means you probably forgot to pack food as well?
Dang, he’s good. But I guess that’s why people hire him, why he has a waiting list. It’s a reminder that he’s taken me on due to my friendship with Morgan, that he owes her a favor—another reason I don’t want to fuck up. I want to get this right.
Too bad I already screwed up on the first morning. I know he said failure is going to happen, but that doesn’t mean I want it to happen. I quickly type out my response, keeping it plain and simple.
Me
It does, Sir.
Sir
That’s not what we planned for, is it?
Me
No, Sir. I’m sorry.
Sir
I’m not here to reprimand you or make you feel bad, but I do expect you to take responsibility for your choices. We set up your morning and evening routines for a reason, yes?
Me
Yes, Sir.
Sir
I know you want to please me, Lindsey, and truly, that pleases me in itself. But these routines are for you; they’re in place to set you up for success. When you break the routine, I’m not the one who feels the effects. Tell me, how do you feel this morning?
I feel like an annoyed kid for a moment, honestly. It’s how I imagine Kas feels when I attempt to hold her accountable, even though I’ve sucked at it recently.
I brush that thought away and attempt to answer his question truthfully.
I don’t feel like he’s scolding me, but I do feel bad that not only did I not do something right, I disappointed him.
I’m also disappointed in myself and feel out of sorts from rushing to get here.
Even two hours later, I still haven’t shaken it.
Me
Disappointed in myself and stressed.
Sir
Do you like feeling those things?
Me
No.
Sir
If I said the routines we outlined are there to prevent those feelings and not to punish or control you, would you believe me?
Me
Yes, Sir.
Sir
Good girl.
I think I break out into a sweat. I’d told him during our chat last night that I’d be fine with him using praise in that way, but him saying it for the first time is…well, maybe having him call me “baby” would have been easier.
I nearly type out the blushing emoji then remember this is my professional Dom, not a guy I’m flirting with. Bubbles pop up again, and another message from Sir comes through while I’m lost in thought.
Sir
Was that okay for you, Lindsey?
Me
Yes, Sir. I liked it.
Sir
Good, let me know if that changes.
Me
I will, Sir.
Sir
Back to the topic of you breaking your morning routine. Tonight, I’d like you to set two different alarms. One to wake up and one as a backup. Is that possible for you?
Me
Yes, I have an alarm I can use besides my phone.
Sir
That’s perfect. Along with that, you’re going to start packing your meals for work ahead of time. I know this will change depending on your shifts, but we can adjust on those days as needed. How does that sound?
It sounds annoying. But I know he’s right; it will make my life easier. It will also be good to get in the habit of doing it since Kas goes back to school in mid-August and she’s not a huge fan of Starlight Haven Elementary School’s lunches.
It’s a reminder that I haven’t told Sir about Kas yet.
It was on the tip of my tongue last night, but I held back, not wanting to reveal that part about myself yet.
I’m not ashamed of Kas in any way, but I am ashamed of how bad of a mom I’ve been.
I’ve also been grappling with revealing it because of the nature of this relationship and not truly knowing if this man lives here or not.
Sir
Did you get called away to work or does that feel uncomfortable?
I smirk to myself before answering, almost typing Impatient much? but holding myself back. Pretty sure that would get me in trouble, even if the idea does excite me for reasons I’m not going to touch right now considering I should be working, not messaging my Dom by the nurse’s station.
Me
Sorry, making lunch ahead of time does sound annoying, but I know it will be good for me.
I don’t know why, but I feel like I can hear him chuckling through the phone, and I realize I was still a bit snarky by saying it was annoying. The little bubbles appear on-screen as he types, my stomach fluttering as I wait for his answer.
Sir
You can feel annoyed, but remember, you’re not doing this because it’s fun, you’re doing it because it sets you up for success. And I expect you to follow through because you agreed this was important.
My skin prickles as I read the message, hearing him say it in that deep and commanding tone of his in my mind. I stand up straighter as I answer.
Me
You’re right, Sir. I did.
Sir
I’d like you to message me when your meals are packed for tomorrow. Send me a picture to show me you did what I asked of you, understood?
A little bit of that annoyance flares in my gut, but this is what I signed up for.
I need someone to hold me accountable. And I’ll admit, there’s a pull in my gut—despite my annoyance—that needs to do what he asked, that wants so desperately to do it.
That’s even excited to send him the picture and get his praise.
Me
Yes, Sir. I understand.
Sir
We need to address the commitment you broke and how to rectify it so you think twice before doing it again.
So much for not imagining naughty things at work.
Like lightning, an image of him putting me over his knees, his sexy forearms flexing as his hand comes down on my bottom flashes behind my eyelids.
I know that’s not the kind of punishment I’m going to get for breaking my commitment, but…
I can’t help but think it would be nice.
I suck in a breath, the sterile antiseptic smell of the ER reminding me I’m at work and that this agreement with him is not going to get me spanked, laid, or both. I type out my answer, a simple…
Me
Okay, I’m ready.
…even though I’m not sure I’m ready. His response comes a minute later, and I read it thoroughly.
Sir
No scrolling Loopr or any social media tonight.
I’m going to send you a locking app to download.
Once you have it set up, give me your password so I also have access.
This will allow me to lock you out of your social media apps and tell me if you access them with the password against my command.
If you break it, there will be consequences.
I would also like you to write a reflection while journaling tonight.
It can be a few sentences on how today felt and how you’ll do better tomorrow.
It sounds like a lot, but in reality, I know it’s not. He’s here to help me. He has my best interest at heart. Even if this feels hard, I know it wasn’t meant to be easy.
This was something we talked about at length on our call last night.
He warned me there’d be a lot that came up while working together, feelings I may have never felt before or have revolted against in the past. Like when I was a kid and got grounded or had privileges taken away.
But thinking about that part of our conversation only reminds me why I signed our agreement.
By doing this, I not only help myself but Kas, too.
It doesn’t hurt that it’s also something I truly want, something that excites me even in these uncomfortable moments.
Me
Yes, Sir.
Sir
Remember, Lindsey. This isn’t about punishment, it’s about making sure this lesson sticks. Now, go do your job, and we’ll check in tonight. I expect you to hold yourself to the standard we both know you’re capable of.
I expect you to hold yourself to the standard we both know you’re capable of. Well, dang. When he says it like that…
My shoulders shift back, and I smile a little.
Me
Thank you for having faith in me, Sir.
Sir
I’m here to support you when you don’t and to help you build that faith in yourself. Now, go to work, and we’ll talk later.
Me
Yes, Sir.
“That thriller book again?”
I fly five feet in the air as I turn to see Billie, who’s smirking as she walks past me.
I know my cheeks are pink, not only from her comment but also at the fact that I’m still standing in the same place I was when she was called away.
I’m lucky our charge nurse wasn’t the one to find me; I don’t need to be looked at as a slacker or questioned about why I’m not doing my job.
“Yeah,” I lie.
“Definitely send me that title.”
I clear my throat and pick up the clipboard I had earlier. “Will do.”
She chuckles, and I walk toward the waiting room to collect my next patient, who has already been assessed by a triage nurse. I decide right then and there I can’t converse with my Dom outside of breaks, even if the desire is strong. Very strong, clearly. I need this job, and I can’t risk it.