Lanie's Lessons (21 page)

“Ethan, your bloodlust is showing.”

He snorted. “Whatever.”

She laughed softly. “You sound like a sarcastic teenager.”

He continued without acknowledging her comment. “Are you still worried, or do I need to finish with my list.”

“He threatened to sue, honey. He’s just stupid and stubborn enough to do it.”

A heavy sigh came from his end, before he continued. “B: Simons already has enough legal shit to deal with, he won’t want to tack on an assault charge, and C: if he did, it’s his word against mine, yours and The Honorable Victoria Studor.”

“You seem so certain.”

“I am. So certain in fact, that if Walt Simons is stupid enough to press charges against me, when you post my bail, you can take me home and I’ll let you have your wicked way with me. If I’m right, I get to be wicked.”

The long pause came from her end this time.

“Lanie, are you still there?”

“I’m here.” Whispering throatily, she didn’t sound like herself.

“Are you okay?”

“Um…” she actually croaked this time and cleared her throat before she answered. “Not really.”

He chuckled. “What’s wrong, baby? Did you think of something naughty to do with me?”

“Darn you, Ethan. I have court in an hour and you made me really wet.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Tell me about it.”

“No,” she grumbled. “I’m going to have to start carrying a change of panties in my purse.”

“I see. So you’ve got the dirty mind, but it’s all my fault, huh?”

“Yes.

“I’m sorry, Lanie.”

“You should be.”

“Not for the panties. Because you’re going to lose this bet.”

“Crap, I already forgot it was a bet.”

“Tell me what you were thinking.”

“No.”

“If I guess, will you tell me?

“Probably not.”

“You want to tie me to the bed and lick me until I can’t stand it, making me wait to come until I beg for it like I do to you.”

“Ethan!”

“Or maybe you’ll want to straddle my shoulders and ride my tongue until you come.”

“I’m going to have to go.”

“Or, you could demand that I come to your office get on my knees beneath your desk, naked, of course, and pleasure you with my tongue. All… day… long.”

“I’m hanging up now. I’ve got to run by the store on my way to court.”

“What for?” Guessing, he still waited expectantly with a broad grin.

“To buy more damn panties, you evil man.”

“Lanie?”

“What, honey? I really have to go.”

“Did I distract you?”

Again silence reigned on her end. “Yes, honey, and I love you for it.”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight.

“Ethan,” she said softly.

“I’m still here, baby.”

“I hope you win.”

Chapter Fifteen

Distantly, she heard the front door close as Ethan arrived home. His voice called her name a moment later.

“I’m in here, honey.” Her voice croaked like a sick frog and she began coughing again. Reaching for another throat lozenge on the bedside table, she moaned as every bone in her body ached. Ethan appeared in the doorway and stared at her in surprise.

When the last coughing spell had passed, a wave of weakness had overtaken her in its wake and she’d collapsed on the bed half dressed. That was how he found her, in her bra, skirt and one navy pump, lacking the energy to kick the other shoe off let alone finish undressing.

“I’m sick,” she whined from where she half lay on the bed, feet still on the floor, her upper body slumped to the side and flopped over a pillow.

“I can see that. It must have come on suddenly. You seemed fine this morning.”

“I’m miserable,” she began, but paused to cough and blow her nose. “I woke up with a tickle. By noon, I couldn’t breathe and it felt like I had razor blades in my throat. When I left at four, I had a pounding headache. Now look at me, Typhoid Lanie.”

“Poor baby,” he said, moving toward her.

“Stop!” Lanie cried out in alarm. “Stay away. I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Someone has to take care of you.” He knelt to slip off her shoe and eased her feet onto the bed. Sitting down beside her despite her protests, Ethan stroked the hair back from her forehead. His cool hands felt good on her skin. “You feel warm. Have you taken your temperature?”

“No thermometer.”

“What about cold medicine?”

“I felt too bad to go by the drugstore and I don’t have anything to take other than these disgusting cough drops.” She pointed to the two remaining lozenges on the night stand. They’d definitely been around for a while. Having melted at some point, the outside had become sticky and the wrappers, which were torn in places, had adhered to the lozenges like glue. “I found them in my coat pocket and had to pick the lint off of them. It’s gross, but I was desperate.”

“Let’s get you undressed, first. I’ll make you some hot tea with honey and lemon and then I’ll go to the pharmacy for supplies.”

He found the nightgown she’d intended to put on where it had fallen at the foot of the bed. Pulling her up to a standing position, he stripped off her skirt. Bra and panties followed while she leaned limply against him, too exhausted to stand on her own. Once dressed in her most comfortable cotton blend chemise, he tucked her in, pulling the covers up to her chin as she shook with a chill. Before leaving, he brought her a cup of hot tea.

“Drink all of this, Lanie. You need fluids.” He touched his lips to her hot forehead and was gone.

Lanie dozed fitfully, her cough waking her every time she nodded off. She kicked off the covers one minute, shivering and pulling them up to her ears the next. When Ethan returned, he stood next to the bed, staring down at her with concern.

“I feel terrible.” Her stuffed up nose made it sound like “I feew tewwible.” She moaned out her agony. “My bones ache, and I’m restless. One minute I’m on fire and sweating buckets and freezing and chilling the next.” As if to prove her point, a flash of heat swept over her and she threw off the covers and pull her clingy chemise away from her damp skin.

“Hang in there, baby. I’ll have you fixed up in a jiffy.” He sat at the bedside and removed a six pack of bottled water from his bag, frowning as he placed it on the nightstand. “You didn’t drink your tea. It would have soothed your throat.”

“My stomach was too queasy. I think I’m dying, Ethan.” Aching deep in her bones, she rolled on her side and curling up in a ball, peeked at him over a pile of covers.

“I’m sure it’s a virus or the flu. Let’s get your temperature first.”

He unloaded his bag full of jars and small boxes, and then tore open a package. As he removed an old fashioned glass thermometer, she emphatically shook her head. “No way, Ethan. I’m too sick to play, and you are not getting anywhere near my rear end with that thing.”

“Hush.” He showed her the tip. “See, it’s blue. That means oral use only, so be a good girl and hold this under your tongue.”

Accusing him falsely made her feel worse, so she obediently opened and did her best to hold the thermometer under her tongue with her mouth shut. She found it impossible when she couldn’t breathe through her stopped up nose. Because of this, Ethan left it in for five before reading it.

“One-oh-two point five. You’re a sick baby. Sit up for a minute and take your medicine.” He opened a bottle of water and held out two ibuprofen. Swallowing the pills with a raw burning throat was painful. A cupful of cough syrup came next. She tossed it back quickly. Like a shot of Bacardi 151, it burned all the way down and made her shudder violently. Holding her sore throat as she swallowed, she grimaced at the fake cherry flavor, which did little to mask the awful taste.

Ethan rubbed her back as she slumped forward, face planting into his chest. “The medicine will make you feel better. Drink up that water. You need to stay hydrated until the fever comes down.”

After she handed him the empty bottle, she flopped weakly back against the pillows. Starting to chill again and feeling the ache into her bones, she tugged up the covers, intent on burrowing deep and contemplating her untimely death, which she felt sure was at hand.

“Wait.” Stopping the ascent of the sheets and comforter, he reached into the bag and announced, “I’ve got one more thing. Pull up your nightgown.”

“But I’m freezing.”

“Don’t fuss. Be a good girl and do it.”

Pouting like a cranky five-year-old in need of a nap, she pulled up her gown to her waist.

“All the way up to your shoulders, Lanie, so I can rub on the salve.”

When he opened the jar of Vick’s Vapor Rub, she grimaced in protest. “I hate that stuff.”

“It will help unstop your nose so you can breathe and fall asleep.” He slathered a generous glob of the stinky goo on her chest and began rubbing it in.

“Yuk! That is so gross.”

“You are a terrible patient.” After he was done and had wiped his hands on a towel, he helped her straighten her gown and tucked her back in. “Try to get some sleep, baby. I’m going to make you some chicken broth since you didn’t like the tea.”

“I don’t think I can stomach it. I feel kind of sick.” As soon as she said it, her stomach roiled and a wave of nausea swept over her. Pushing the covers and Ethan aside, she flew to the bathroom. She was heaving when he followed her in. “Go away. I’m dying.”

Wetting a cool cloth, he lifted her damp hair and placed it around her neck. She sighed at the coolness against her hot skin. He wet another and wiped her face, reaching around her to flush the toilet. “You lost your medicine.”

“I don’t think I can take anymore, Ethan. It’ll come back up. I don’t want to throw up again, it burns and my throat is so sore already.”

“We need to get your fever down.” He rinsed out the rag under cold water and wiped her face again. “How about a tepid bath?”

It wasn’t really a question because before she could answer, he was already moving to the tub to fill it. Ignoring her complaints, he eased her into the tub and began scooping large handfuls of the lukewarm water over her back, chest and shoulders. When she began to shiver with cold, he helped her out and bundled her in a fluffy towel before carrying her back to bed.

“Still one-oh-two,” he murmured after taking her temperature again. “I’m calling Dr. Foster. Maybe he can call something in.”

“Not him, Ethan. He’s got some kind of weird anal fixation. All he ever orders is suppositories.”

“I’ll ask for that Phenergan gel for the nausea. If we can get that under control you can take the rest by mouth.”

Dr. Foster was on call and did order the anti-nausea gel which Ethan paid extra to have delivered. He sat next to her in bed, keeping watch as she coughed and moaned at intervals, the fever and chills making her toss and turn restlessly. He didn’t leave her side until the doorbell rang.

In a few minutes he returned with a grim look on his face. “Bad news, sweetheart. The pharmacy was out of the gel. They sent these instead.” He held up a clear bag filled with six silver foil wrapped suppositories.

“Kill me now,” she whispered hoarsely as she buried her head under the pillow. “Get me some flat ginger ale to soothe my stomach and I’ll be fine.”

“Let’s get it over with so you can start feeling better.”

His voice sounded distant. When she peeked at him, he had already retrieved the KY Jelly from the bathroom.

“No! I don’t want a suppository. They burn.”

“You’re acting childish, Lanie. You have to take the medicine.”

A wave of nausea hit her and she was off to the toilet again. Her chest hurting and her throat on fire, she collapsed on the floor whimpering. Tenderly, he stroked her with a cool cloth until it passed. Then, he scooped her up off the cold tile floor and carried her back to the bed. Instead of tucking her back under the covers, he sat at the bedside with her on his lap.

“I’m done with this foolishness. Like it or not, you’re taking your medicine.” Before she could react, he had her over his lap with her nightgown hiked up above her waist.

“No, Ethan! I don’t want it.”

“You’re being silly. Hold still.”

She bucked against him, kicking and pushing him away. “I said no, dammit.”

He hauled her back into position and smacked her bare ass twice. “Quit fighting me. I’m in charge here, Lanie Fischer, and you will do what I say.”

She wailed in protest, clamping her butt cheeks firmly together, like the jaws of a snapping turtle. Her legs sticking rigidly out behind her as she struggled. “I can’t believe how mean you’re being, Ethan,” she cried. “I’m sick.”

“Unclench your bottom, Lanie.” He swatted her again and waited.

“No! I hate you!”

He swatted her again, blazing her cheeks with a half dozen stinging slaps. “You don’t mean that. You’re feverish and not yourself. I don’t want to spank you or give you medicine you don’t want, but I love you and want you to get better. So, are you going to cooperate, or do you need a dozen more?”

Stubborn as can be, she resisted and he didn’t relent until she got eight of the promised twelve. In the end, she gave in and although hardly relaxed, she unclenched enough for him to spread her cheeks apart. Quickly, his fingers applied the cool lubricant and he inserted the hard bullet shaped suppository. She sucked in a quick breath as he pressed it inside, pushing it in farther than Lanie thought was necessary. But she remained silent, too tired to lodge another protest that would only be ignored, anyway.

Ethan patted her bottom gently as he held her in place for a moment. “There, that wasn’t so bad.”

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have a burning bullet shoved up your ass.”

“Language, Lanie.”

“Can I get up now?”

“Not yet. There’s one more.”

Her hair whipped around as she twisted to look at him. “Another one? What for?”

“That was the Phenergan for nausea. Dr. Foster also sent along some Tylenol suppositories.”

“I told you he had a butt fetish.”

“Maybe he does, but in this case it’s necessary. Are you going to be good this time?”

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

“Oh, but you do. You can fight me and take the medicine after another spanking, or do it the easy way, be good and let me slide it in. It will take all of five seconds.” While he spoke, he put a dollop of gel on the suppository and gently touched her bottom. Resolved to this medical torture she acquiesced, silently giving her answer by lying quietly over his lap. This time when he parted her cheeks, there was no fuss, and the medicine slipped easily up inside. This one was a bit larger and she hissed as he pushed it up inside her burning channel.