One Dom at a Time (2 page)

“Your boss has been well
compensated for your time and he’s placed you at my disposal for
the next 30 days.”

No fucking way. Hot fury rushed up
inside me, steam should have poured from my ears and eyes. “I am
not for sale Mr. Collins, to you or by my ex-boss. Emphases on
ex.”

I stormed across the room and
using the key I hid on top of the cabinet, I opened my locker and
retrieved my large personal bag. It held my street clothes along
with sub toys but there was no way I was changing. If a cop stopped
me on my way home he would get an eye full and maybe I would get
out of a ticket. I didn’t see myself driving slowly and obeying the
speed limit and I would pay the damn ticket if it came to
that.

Refusing to look at Mr. Dick On A
Stick, I made sure I had everything. I wouldn’t be back and the
sick feeling in my stomach only pissed me off more. I refused to
let it sway me and only had one goal before I left. I would walk
out this room and kick Johnny in the balls like I should have done
many years before. I was never coming back.

I turned to the door but my cream
dream fantasy blocked my path, his back resting against the scared
wood.

“I’m taking you to dinner to
discuss my proposal.”

The arrogant ass. My eyes traveled
to the corner camera. It might be my private room but for safety
reasons the cameras were essential. The problem was Johnny knew how
I would react and I could only guess at the amount of money it took
for him to give me up for a month. Damn him, he wouldn't be sending
a bouncer to get me out of my current predicament.

I had no choice and even with
years of self-defense I had little chance of removing my problem
physically. His broad shoulders brushed both sides of the door
frame. God I loved a large chest and a man who made me feel
small.

Controlling my inner slut, I
snapped out of lust and into disgust. My only chance of escape
would happen after I was out of this office.

I met Mr. Dreamsicle’s eyes.
“Well, the answer is no but I wouldn’t want to refuse a free
dinner.” I couldn’t hide all my irritation but my voice dropped
down a sexy notch. I was a good actress.

His grin flashed again and
stepping back, he opened the door letting me precede
him.

Chapter Two

I kept my office brighter than the
low to no light in the main part of the club. It took a moment for
my eyesight to adjust. Unfortunately this wasn’t a good thing. I
often thought blindness would be better than looking at the crappy
surroundings. The darkness did nothing to hide the shabby sleazy
atmosphere.

I figured Johnny shopped at the
BDSM equivalent of a garage sale or he gathered donations off
curbsides where people hoped someone could benefit from their
castoffs. Slimy surroundings went hand in hand with a slimy boss.
But, no more, I was finished.

Damian didn’t touch me but he used
his large frame to crowd my body on purpose. The man had nerve and
entirely too much alpha sex appeal. I cast an angry glare at a
group of subs sitting on a garish couch with their mouths hanging
open. Too bad I wouldn’t be around to give a little discipline. I
noticed Molly sitting with them. Like a good sub, she kept her eyes
down. She was pretty but overweight by fifty pounds. I was sure she
wouldn’t make it past the door of Mr. Edible’s private club. If I
still weighed over two hundred pounds I wouldn’t be in my current
predicament. Maybe I’d eat a cherry Pop Tart tonight.

I took a deep breath and as much
as I hated to admit it, I was pissed at being forced to leave this
smelly, seedy place that had become my second home.

Out of the corner of my eye I
caught sight of Johnny. My body turned but a strong hand grabbed my
forearm and led me away from the harry balls that needed my knee.
“I’d like a word with my boss.” My voice was sharp.

“No, and if you insist on causing
a scene I’ll pick you up and carry you over my shoulder. Your
choice.”

I came to a dead stop and looked
up into the dark eyes that held a promise and looked like they
would enjoy my humiliation. No one topped me outside of my bedroom
but this Neanderthal Romeo didn’t know that. He only knew I was
dominant. Why did I get the feeling he thought he could control me.
I’d had enough and if Johnny was getting rid of me and wouldn’t be
sending backup, I needed to handle this myself.

Using my body, I stepped into Mr.
Deluxe Dimples. In perfect text book self-defense 101; I grabbed
his arm, tipped my shoulder, and bent at the waist. Taking another
step in, I twisted and leaned to the side as Mr. Tall, Dark, and
Airborne went flying. The entire move took less than three seconds.
Before he made a solid thump against the cheap carpet, I was
heading out the front door just daring the bouncers to stop
me.

I cleared the entrance debating if
now was a good time to run. I wasn’t concerned about what was ahead
of me; I was terrified by what I left behind. I cast a quick look
over my shoulder.

“Are you Ms. Simmons?”

Shit, I couldn’t help my startled
squeal. Two hundred and fifty pounds of double trouble stood in
front of me leaning against a black limousine. I was so fucking
screwed. At that moment Mr. Maniac came through the door. His
dimples were no longer showing.

“If she gets away, you’re fired.”
His voice was deadly.

There wasn’t even a split second
to run as ham hocks wrapped tightly around my arms.

“Place her in the back.”

“You son-of-a-bitch, this is
kidnapping.” I was scared but I wouldn’t show it. My foot kicked
out and Mr. Muscleman number two let out a grunt.

The car door opened and a not so
gentle hand pushed me in the back. I was wearing knee high black
boots and a short black leather mini skirt with a red thong beneath
it. My knees hit the side of the limo and I fell forward with my
ass in the air. A solid hand came down across my displayed cheeks
and I scrambled inside. I crawled to the far corner and sat on the
same afore mentioned now sore appendage.

I was beyond furious and like most
women, even a dominatrix, I was about to cry. Things were not
pretty when I cried. Biting my tongue finally caused enough pain to
hold back my tears. I thought about screaming at the top of my
lungs but I knew there was no one around to hear it but Mr. Moron
and his muscle bound sidekick.

The car immediately moved forward
picking up speed. I had a quick glimpse of Raul rushing out the
door as he watched the tail end of my kidnapping. My head turned
toward my nemesis. If this was his idea of a job interview he was
insane.

I had repeatedly turned down the
offers to work at El Diablo even though it was the most exclusive
private BDSM club in the country. Raul thought I was a fool but at
the MC I ran things my way. I chose my subs based on my needs and
theirs. I also understood that poor self-esteem brought many men
and women into this life style. I met the needs of the needy and I
put up with fast fingered Johnny because it filled an empty hole
inside of me.

I wanted nothing to do with
slapping my whip against the asses of the rich and lazy who thought
their shit didn’t stink. I sat in my corner of the limo and fumed
for about sixty seconds.

“Where are you taking me?”

He didn’t talk for a moment. A
typical Dom response; build the tension and let the little sub know
who was in charge.

“My plan was to take you to dinner
but quite truthfully I’m now thinking my private suite would be the
best place to put you across my knee and redden the rest of your
sweet ass.”

I inhaled sharply unable to keep
the sound from escaping and received the slight quirk of his mouth
again.

“You seem to have me mistaken for
one of your subs. If you think you can beat me into accepting your
job offer, you will be disappointed.”

“Oh? I have no intention of
beating you in order to get you to accept my offer. I plan to spank
your delectable ass to make myself feel better.

Chapter Three

He was out of his mind.

“If you hit me again, I’ll file charges.” As far as
threats went it sucked but this was all I had.

He laughed and I also heard a chuckle from the
driver.

“I assure you my team of attorneys will handle any
legal problems you throw my way.”

I knew he was right but there was no way I was
giving in. “Why me?”

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve
said all evening. Your fame precedes you and I’m tired of hearing
about the redhead Domme who attracts my rich patrons. They fly over
here at least once a month just to watch you work. They pay your
boss big bucks for a chance to have you top them but it seems you
are rather discerning in your choice of subs. I only know of one
person who managed to get past your selection process. It’s been
the talk of my club for months.”

His eyes were dark and I couldn’t
see them but their heat burned. His Dom voice was now low and sexy,
completely in charge. What I would give to tie him up and make him
groan.

Inhaling to gain control of
myself, I decided to give my abductor a small amount of truth. “I
know The Mediterranean is a rat hole but I’m not into perfect
people. I like flaws. Your mega money followers spend enough money
keeping their bodies beautiful to feed a small country. My answer
is no.”

“Hmm, you may have a point.
They’re beautiful but I believe most of them are mentally fucked
up. Mommy and Daddy didn’t give them enough attention, rich Uncle
Bruce got too touchy feely when they were small or better yet the
dog was the only one willing to put out when they were juvenile
adolescents.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re a self-righteous
prude. I’ve seen your earlier pictures before your generous curves
became muscled stealth. You put as much stock into your body as my
millionaire club members do. I didn’t find any evidence of plastic
surgery in your file but borderline anorexia and maybe even bulimia
are a given.”

It was killing me that I couldn’t
see his face but at the same time he couldn’t see mine. My fingers
trembled as I brought them to my mouth. It hurt; his words, his
guess, and his obvious satisfaction in my humiliation. My hand went
to the door handle. I was getting out even if I had to jump. The
door wouldn’t budge.

“Does the truth hurt? All of us
are fucked up in this crazy world. You don’t need to be into the
BDSM scene to be crazy and we both know that. I think you will be
pleasantly surprised with the diverse nature of my---followers, as
you call them. I want you working at El Diablo. I’m willing to
negotiate terms. I’ll give you a one-month trial period, a deluxe
suite at my hotel, and allow Raul to accompany you though he will
officially work for me. You will work three nights a week but no
tending bar, helping with accounting, or cleaning your own area.
I’ll triple your pay and provide an apartment plus pay the rent on
the one here so you have a place to come back to…if you come
back.”

He let that sink in but then blew
my next ‘no’ all to hell.

“If you remain stubborn and
continue to say no, I offer you a wager.”

He had done his homework. He knew
I lived for a bet. Once a month I took one hundred dollars to the
race track and bet on the ponies. Before he died, my father was a
jockey. He never made the big time but he raised me at the track.
He was five two and weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. My mother
was large like me but that’s what turned him on. She died when I
was a baby and he loved nothing more than telling me stories of the
first time he saw her.

I shook myself mentally and
snapped out of my walk down memory lane. I couldn’t help myself,
“Terms?”

His laugh sounded inside the dark
interior and vibrated across my skin. It was almost sexier than he
was.

“If you accept the challenge I’ll
hold off on the spanking you deserve and drive you back to your car
after dinner.”

“Terms?” I said in my ultimate
bitch voice.

“You have twenty-four hours to
hide and then I have twenty-four to find you though I doubt I’ll
need it. If I win, and I will, you will work for me for the desired
thirty days. If you win, I’ll pay you fifty thousand dollars and
walk away.”

Fuck, he knew I wanted my own club
and he knew I needed the money. Double fuck. “You have a deal but I
have a condition about dinner.”

“That’s okay, Carl take us to Beasty Burgers. My
lady wants her usual.”

I was in trouble.

Chapter Four

They dropped me off at my vehicle
with a full stomach and then watched until I drove away from the
MC. I went straight home. Samson needed his walk and I also needed
to call Raul. I knew where I was going and I also knew no dossier
would have the details.

I opened the door and one hundred
and fifty pounds of lovable Rottweiler bounced around like a toy
poodle. Samson and Raul were my best friends. Both gave me so much
more than I could ever give them. Sam followed me to my bedroom so
I could change into my sweats and running shoes.

I also needed to get out of this
red dental floss that passed for underwear. I unzipped my boots,
removed my leather corset and skirt, and then peeled down my red
thong. Walking over to the mirror was a mistake because when I
looked over my shoulder at my bottom, a defined handprint was
clearly visible, damn him.