Yield to You Box Set (Contemporary BDSM Dominatrix Romance): All Four Episodes in One Volume! Read online

  Yield to You

  The Box Set

  All Four Episodes

  By

  Mia Moore

  Published by Mia Moore

  Copyright 2013, Mia Moore

  License Notes

  ISBN: 978-1-927984-22-2

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  About This Book

  Diana Grant, M.D. is known to her colleagues as ‘Dr. Ice Queen’. It’s not just her reserved demeanor- one boyfriend in 39 years? There’s something unusual about this woman. Oh, if they only knew…

  She has another life, where she is ‘Mistress Diana’, a shining exemplar of a skilled Dominatrix. Men yearn to kneel before her at Club Paradox. In the punishing dance of BDSM she’s free to indulge passion but still shield her heart. She is just as reserved at Club Paradox as at the hospital. Her two worlds will never, ever bleed into each other. They say there’s safety in numbers, and there is. As long as that number is one. It’s not perfect, but honestly, what is?

  Danny Anderson didn’t get the memo. Whereas Diana Grant has spent her life avoiding hurt, he’s recovering from grievous wounds.

  He’s also searching to fulfill newly discovered cravings. He proved his manhood, his macho, again and again in Afghanistan; and he’ll do any damn thing he can to become a favored submissive of Mistress Diana’s. He’s handsome, confident and younger. Younger?

  It’s explosive passion at first sight. Or is it something more?

  This is all new to Diana – maybe too new. Things go wrong from the start. And then get downright dangerous. Danny can handle it; he’s been through worse and has the scars to prove it. Diana sees in Danny, a living example of ‘that which yields is not weak’.

  In this battle of wills, Danny will yield his body. Will Mistress Diana yield her heart?

  Is she even able to?

  Author’s Note

  In this book, some of my characters do not practice safe sex and have no consequences. Please understand that this is a novel, and not an endorsement of such behavior. In real life, play often, and always play safe!

  Contents

  About This Book

  PART 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  PART 2

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  PART 3

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  PART 4

  Chapter 30

  Chapter31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter36

  Mia’s Readers Club

  Other Books By Mia Moore

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “Hey, Diana, I was just…”

  “You’re just trying to get laid! And you’re married!” Thin lipped, she spat, “Your second marriage, Doctor Horton. What the hell do you take me for?”

  “Well, I think you’re lonely too, Doctor Grant! And we’re both here in this bar, and we’re not getting any younger. Are we? Seize the day!” Darren Horton attempted a weak laugh.

  “We’re at a professional conference you bastard. I know Kathy! You think that I’d sleep with a married man? You think that I’d sleep with the husband of a woman I know?” Her eyes were narrow. “I’d sleep with a guy almost- almost old enough to be my father?” Darren was almost sixty-two, Diana’s Dad was closing in on seventy. This proposition was gross.

  “Who said anything about sleeping?”

  Okay, that did it. Diana set put her drink on the bar and stepped into Darren’s space. She looked him in the eye. He was just about six feet tall. In her two inch heels, she was almost eye to eye with him. She pointed her finger in his face.

  “You pig. You absolute worm. I’m going to count to five, and if you’re not out of this bar, you’re going to wish you were. At five if you’re still here, I’m going to climb up on this stool and shout at the top of my lungs, ‘Doctor Darren Horton, husband of Kathy, just asked me to have sex with him!’”

  “Hey, Diana, take it…”

  “One.”

  “Y’know- I thought we were friends!”

  “Two.”

  “It’s not like it would be anything serious or anything…”

  “Three.”

  “Shit. Cut it out already. Let’s talk this over, okay?”

  “Four.”

  “Bitch. At your age, you ought to be grateful any decent looking man…”

  “Five.”

  Diana hadn’t taken her eyes, nor her pointed finger away from Darren’s face. The silence hung for a moment.

  “Fuck you Darren.” She raised her foot onto the bar stool and held the edge of the oak bar and boosted herself up.

  “Hey everyone! Can I have your attention please! I said HEY EVERYONE!”

  The hotel bar, filled with doctors, administrators, sales and marketing reps from drug and hospital supply companies fell silent.

  “I’m leaving, I’m leaving!” Darren turned and scurried out of the bar, jostling people out of his way, running for his life.

  The silence in the bar lasted an eternity. Maybe two eternities? She won, but how the hell does she get out of this now? Damn Darren. He could have run off when the count hit four! What was she going to say? Yes, she’d won the battle but…

  Oh man. Now what? Gulp.

  “Ummm… does anyone know the score of the Yankee game today?” It came out like a squeak. Oh no.

  “Don’t you have a smart phone!” someone called out.

  “We’re all Blue Jays fans here!” Another voice from the crowd.

  “Who the hell cares Diana!” her friend Morty Abrams called from a table close by.

  “Oh! Smart phone! Yeah! Thank you all very much! We will now return you to your regular scheduled programming!” The blush crept up her neck as she clambered back to the floor. Well at least a small titter of chuckles went through the room. Yeah, laughing at her. Damn that Darren, calling her bluff.

  She turned back to the bar and took a sip of her drink. She’d stay just for a minute and leave as soon as the bar resumed its normal buzz, and before anyone approached her.

  “He hit on ya, didn't he?”

  She knew the voice. From their first meeting at Med School fourteen years ago to today, Morty Abrams had been a friend. She nodded but didn't turn around. “Yeah, Morty. I guess he expected a forty year old spinster would be gr
ateful or something.”

  “You’re not forty yet you know.”

  “It’s coming Morty. It’s coming.”

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  She turned to face him. “Thanks, but I’m okay. I've dealt with this kind of shit before. In fact, I enjoyed chasing him out of here. Kathy’s a sweetie!”

  “Yeah, but so was his first wife Dorothy.”

  “Yeah, maybe. I didn't know her. That was before my time, I guess.”

  Morty smiled. “Maybe take it as a compliment? You still got it?”

  “Are you serious? Getting hit on, no propositioned by a guy who’s married? Who’s in his sixties? Compliments like that I don’t need.”

  “Well, yeah, I guess.”

  She stood back a half step. “Morty, we’ve been buds for years. Do you think I’m that desperate?”

  Morty held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, Di.” He was the only person not family who got away with calling her that pet name. “Take a breath. I’m just, you know, here for you, okay? Covering your back?”

  She looked down for just a moment. “Yeah, I know; and I love you for it. It’s just, well, talking to a head shrinker? In a bar?” She paused and took that breath. “It’s not you, and it’s not me, Morty,” looking at the exit from the lounge, she turned back to Morty. “It was his… Darren’s nerve!”

  “Yeah, and me being a psychiatrist can be a bit complicating, maybe. When I’m at parties a lot of time I tell them I’m a neurologist instead. Or sometimes, a plumber.” He laughed.

  She drained her vodka tonic, and set it on the bar. The check was next to it and she signed it, adding the tip and her room number. She turned back to her friend. “Yeah, I know what you mean- I tell people I’m an office manager for a medical practice. That way I don’t hear about people’s complaints and ailments. Hey… thanks for covering my back, Morty.”

  “No problem. You packing it in?”

  “Yeah. I took a room. There’s a seminar I want to catch tomorrow from Doctors Without Borders, and then I’ll head back home. G’night.”

  “You’re going to Haiti again?”

  “Yes, but only for four weeks this year. The six weeks last year just took too much out of me. And besides, they’re getting more docs down there from new grads this year, so I can back off some.”

  “ You've been going down there a lot Diana. Backing off’s probably a good idea.”

  She laughed. “Not if you ask my office staff! They love the time off in the spring every year with pay!”

  Morty looked down at his shoes. “Well, too bad I don’t speak French, otherwise…”

  “Who’re you trying to kid, Morty? You and I both know ‘missionary work’ isn't for you. And besides, you donate two week’s worth of fees every year- do you have any idea how many lives you've saved with your wallet?” She threw her arm around him in a soft hug.

  “Yeah, I guess. Your dedication and my bank account, we both make a difference, huh?”

  “And then there’s the work with soldiers you do.” She snapped her fingers, with a realization. “I’ll bet a lot of those sessions, you do for free, don’t you?”

  “I’m not saying anything Diana. The powers that be have their limits in paying. It works most of the time, but sometimes those kids need more.” He paused for a moment. “Those fucking kids go over there to get shot at, and blown up, and all the other shit so we don’t have any more planes flying into buildings, y’know?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I won’t leave my patients hanging, that’s all. I do the best I can, but I’m only one guy.”

  “Yeah, that’s how I feel when I’m in Haiti. I’m only one woman. I do the best I can.”

  “And our best is pretty damn good, isn't it Diana?”

  “Damn right. Look, I’m heading to bed.”

  “Alright. G’night. See ya at the hospital.”

  She picked up her purse and left the bar. Morty was a good friend, coming up to her and chatting for a minute. It gave the room a chance to settle down after her escapade on the bar stool. She went to the elevator and got on, maintaining her public face until she closed the door to her room.

  Damn that Darren Horton! It would have been bad enough had he just flirted with her. But no, he propositioned her! Hey, Diana, we've known each other for years, what do you say we go up to my room and have sex? Oh God- he thought she was that desperate?

  Sure, her thirty-ninth birthday was just two weeks ago. And in forty-nine weeks and five days, she would be forty years old. That might be a cause for panic for some people, but she was satisfied with where her life was. Being single did not mean being lonely. Right?

  She dropped her purse on the hotel room desk along with her room key and slipped off her shoes. She wasn't too lonely. She had made it her business to avoid that. She and Chris, her one and only boyfriend had called it quits almost three years ago. It hardly hurt at all anymore.

  Only two drinks and she’s getting maudlin. She shook her head and began to undress for bed.

  God was 'body generous' to her, to quote her mother. Five foot nine inches tall, and a large frame made middle school a trial when the puberty fairy arrived. She was athletic in school- Dad would have it no other way. He got her hooked on swimming and soccer as a young girl. It wasn't until she finished university that he confessed he had been afraid she’d become a dumpy gal if he hadn't encouraged her in sports.

  Well, pushing forty years of age, she still weighed the same as the day of that confession. She took care of herself, and watched what she ate. A couple times a week at the gym, and the opposite days were jogging, bicycling, or even the crushingly boring treadmill in her spare bedroom.

  Her lips pursed in a slight scowl. Thirty nine years old and only one boyfriend. Let’s face it- that’s abnormal. But when she looked at her life as objectively as she could, when she examined the stages her life went through, it wasn't too much of a surprise, really. Was it?

  In high school, she was among the tallest kids in her class! The boys really didn't catch up until grade eleven, and by that time her role was the girl who had lots of friends that were boys, but no boyfriend.

  University wasn't a whole lot better. Well, a little better- it was a relief to finally lose her virginity, wasn't it? Geoff had been sweet as you could expect, except he never called afterwards. That stung. The workload for a sciences student who was no genius was sort of a blessing though. She wanted to become a doctor, like her parents and older brother, an admirable goal, right? Unlike them, she had to work at it though. Hard. She wasn't afraid of studying the long hours; the lack of a boyfriend was almost- almost not painful.

  Her grades were good, but not good enough to get into Med school the first application. It took three years after she graduated to finally get admitted. Reset the academic drudgery at twenty-five.

  The seven plus years of medical training didn't leave room for anything like a romantic life. A few ‘ships passing in the night’ episodes with fellow students, yes, but that was about it. Diana Grant friend to all, adored by no one.

  A year after establishing her practice she met Chris and they started their… their what? Their love affair? More like their ‘as good as it gets kind of thing’. He was finishing up his surgical residency at the same hospital where Diana had admitting privileges. They clicked, had a few dates, and before long were seeing each other exclusively.

  Chris was smart, funny, handsome and taller than Diana. What wasn't there to love? He was her first serious boyfriend.

  For a first boyfriend, it was… well, admit it- anticlimactic. They enjoyed each other’s company, but she had never felt ‘in love’ with Chris. Her heart never beat faster when she was with him. She never cared how he felt over the two years about what she wore, how she styled her shoulder length auburn hair, or the scent she would wear. It would have been nice if she had.

  So what if he wasn't a hand holding sort of fellow? They had been… well… fond of each other. Comfortable with each
other right from the start.

  They were comfortable with each other, not crazy about each other.

  But in your mid-thirties, if there’s no passion, at least there’s the fondness, right? At least there’s someone to warm your bed, right? In your mid-thirties, you know how the world works, and it’s not a Hollywood movie.

  That should have been enough shouldn't it? She thought it was. For a year and a half they dated, spent the night together a few times a week, and went on day trips on the weekends.

  She went into the bathroom to remove her makeup. Wiping off the eye shadow, Diana looked into her own pale blue eyes. She thought she had nice eyes; unusual enough to be considered special- enough people had commented on them in her life. Chris never had though. It would have been nice if there had been just a little bit of being… starry eyed? Chris did have nice eyes. Well, nice enough. Well, okay, they weren't ugly or anything. Some people just have plain brown eyes that fit their face, she supposed. So what if he didn't spend a lot of time just looking in her eyes?

  They never went on Caribbean vacation. She once planned a romantic week at Sandals in the Caribbean, but when she talked to Chris about it, he had wanted to go skiing instead. The idea of sitting on a beach, reading books in the day and drinking and dancing at night didn't appeal to him.