The Drazen World: Dominate (Kindle Worlds Novella) (2 page)

His handsome chiseled features blurred like a faded dream. “Get some rest.”

“I’m not that tired.” I fell against the pillow, my arms flopping by my sides. Truthfully, I was exhausted, but if I admitted it, Brad would leave. I wasn’t ready for him to go just yet.

He stood to his full height, bearing down on me with a scowl. “That’s an order.”

His tone had taken on a much darker edge than I was used to, causing gooseflesh to rise on my arms. “I don’t take orders from men.” My arms felt weighted with sandbags as I tried to pull myself up. “They take orders from me.”

I thought I saw amusement in his eyes, but it was hard to tell as my vision fogged up like a humid Houston afternoon.

“Is that so?” His smooth brow furrowed. “Well, consider this a doctor’s order.”

“Are you my doctor now?”

His laughter was throaty and rich, reminding me of coffee spiked with Irish rum. “For tonight, yes.”

Wow. I hadn’t seen this bossy side of Dr. Brad before. It was kind of hot. Usually, he was the easygoing guy who played weird video games and reluctantly chauffeured me around town, but this new side of him was a total turn-on. Not that I liked dominant men in bed, but I sure enjoyed the challenge of subduing them.

Hmmm. Maybe I’ll take you off the DNF list
. 

I patted the bed, doing my best to smile, even though the act of moving my facial muscles was like bending hard clay. “Sit for a minute.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, his forced smile making him look either constipated or completely not into me. Either way, odds weren’t in my favor.

So why didn’t I take the hint?

“I feel like I need to thank you.” I smoothed a hand across the sheet while biting my lip, discouraged when I got no response. Damn. These painkillers were making me awkward. Usually I was an artist when it came to seduction, the penis my medium, and my tongue the brush. Tonight I was painting by numbers, and the colors were all wrong. 

I should’ve stopped at the lip biting, but the way he stared at me as ominous clouds swirled in his eyes made me think maybe he was turned on, too. I could master him while drugged-up. Who knew? Maybe I could explore my talent with more abandon. Maybe I’d even give into my white knight and let him ride on top for a bit.

Before I knew what was happening, my hand had slid onto his thick thigh, riding up to that bulge beneath his jeans.

I gasped when he grabbed my hand, squeezing it with surprising strength. My sweet, handsome doctor didn’t strike me as a dominant. Had I been mistaken? I sure hoped not, because I had to be the one in control. Always.

“Goodnight, Ariana,” he said, brushing my hand off his thigh and rising.

“But I told you, I don’t want to go to sleep.” I pouted. “I want to show you my appreciation.” My voice slurred a bit as my tongue grew heavy. Damn. How was I supposed to suck his dick like this?

I heard the door shut and realized too late he’d left me. What the hell? Wasn’t Brad interested in redeeming his reward? I’d been all ready to suck and fuck him into oblivion. My stupid eyelids grew heavy, and I shuddered, sinking into the bed as if I was falling through quicksand.

Dammit, Brad. You could have gotten some of this!

I thought about going after him, but my resolve weakened as my eyes finally shut. I stopped fighting my fatigue, deciding I’d pay the doctor a house call after a quick nap.

I. Just. Needed. A little. Rest.

I
woke up to the sound of someone’s car alarm, a rude awakening, but not as annoying as the cackling rooster that used to sit on the fence post beneath my bedroom window at the ranch.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as memories from yesterday slowly unfolded like the fuzzy, crackling reel of an old home movie. Because I sucked at parallel parking, and because I was nearly out of gas, I’d asked—no forced—Brad to drive me to Rodeo Drive after my best friend Savannah called, begging me for a Goddess bracelet. She’d even offered to pay for my bracelet, too.

Savannah and I both had girl crushes on our favorite singer, Monica Faulkner, another reason I’d absolutely had to rent this house for the summer. Apparently, this had been Monica’s childhood home. That’s what the guy who’d swapped houses with me told me, and that’s what Brad had confirmed my first day here. Up until a few years ago, Monica Faulkner had lived here, practiced her music here, and had probably even gotten laid in this very bedroom.

My heartrate quickened as I pieced together sketchy memories of Brad and me in bed. I vaguely remembered something awkward happening between us. Had I flirted with him? Impossible. Brad wasn’t my type. He was too boring, too predictable, too vanilla.

Yes, he is your type, Ariana. Someone you can control in the bedroom.

I stared at my palm as memories of a hard thigh beneath my hand made my fingertips tingle.

Wait. Hang on.

Fuck!

I’d made a pass at him, a serious pass.

Awww, crud. How was I supposed to face my neighbor now?

* * *

I
must have banged on Brad’s door for a good ten minutes before he finally answered. His normally, clean-shaven face was peppered with stubble, his light brown hair was sticking up in all directions, and his cheeks and forehead were flushed a hot pink. He was wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt. Had he been exercising?

“Are you awake?” I knew it was a dumb question the moment it slipped out. It wasn’t my fault this guy brought out my stupid. Why was I acting like a silly schoolgirl around him anyway?

“I am now,” he grumbled.

I wrung my hands together, thinking of the right words to say. “I’m so sorry about yesterday.”

He leaned against the door, shadows from the dark hall obscuring his masculine features. “Just try not to get stabbed anymore.”

My heart pumped double time at that mischievous gleam in his eyes. Did Mr. Vanilla have a dark side? “Not that.” Heat crept into my cheeks and flamed my face. “I mean, the way I acted after.”

He waved me off. “It’s fine.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Weird how the flush in his face deepened. “Well, thanks for taking me to the hospital.” I scrutinized his features, which seemed to be encased in marble. Was he even breathing? “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, shifting from one foot to the other. Something fluttered at his feet, and he quickly scooped it up, hiding it behind the door as his face flushed brighter.

I plastered on a smile, doing my best to pretend I hadn’t seen the open page of the nudie magazine. All I’d glimpsed was a large breast, a flash of brown skin, and black hair.

Holy fuck! Brad had been masturbating to a naked Latina.

I batted my lashes, channeling my innocent schoolgirl persona while my dominatrix threatened to rear her horny head. “What are you up to this morning?”

He cleared his throat. “Nothing.”

Liar, liar, sweatpants on fire.

“Okay. I have a call-back this morning. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” he said and shut the door.

I felt less guilty about my behavior yesterday. It was clear I’d turned him on and he’d taken matters into his own hands, but that was last night, and here it was early morning. Had he been jerking off this whole time? No wonder the guy looked like he’d been running a marathon.  

Damn, Brad. Has a demon taken possession of your libido?

I tried not to think about all the things I could do with a man who had that much sexual energy, but it was hard, really hard. Images of me straddling his thick thighs kept invading my thoughts as I tried to get ready for my audition. I so needed to get laid.

T
he butterflies in my stomach turned into a swarm of rabid wasps as I nervously rubbed the thin scar that ran across my knuckles. I stood before the director and two casting agents, waiting for them to decide my fate. I thought the audition had gone fairly well. They’d asked me the usual questions, like where I was from and my acting experience. After the director asked about my arm, he’d seemed amused by my bag attack story. Finally, I’d recited my monologue with confidence and just a touch of sass.

I was vying for the part of a sexy Latina detective, and let’s be honest, I
was
perfect for the part. My large, dark eyes had a slight tilt that drove men wild, and my plump lips were made for sucking. Thanks to all that practice dominating men in the bedroom, I possessed a commanding air that screamed badass girl cop.

You got this, Ariana,
I silently repeated to myself. 

The director, Sebastian Hendrix, leered at me from under his lashes while rubbing the point of his black goatee.  

Sebastian gave me the creeps, and not just because he’d probably stolen his name from a dead rock star’s tombstone. The guy had a sleazy demeanor. One more glob of hair gel, and the guy would have passed as a used car salesman.

He’d flirted with me the entire interview, shifting in his seat and adjusting himself more than once. Ordinarily, a guy with a ponytail, muscular arms, and tats would have totally turned me on. If it hadn’t been for the predatory gleam in his eyes, I would’ve flirted back. I sensed Sebastian was trying to project a powerful, crime-drama director aura. Instead, he reminded me of a snake, his cold, beady eyes watching his prey as it prepared to strike. 

I feared he was expecting me to suck his dick for the part, but there was no way I was putting that snake’s snake in my mouth or letting it anywhere near my body.

After they bowed their heads, whispering, Sebastian flashed a shark-like smile. “I’m very impressed, Ariana,” he said as he fondled a pencil between two narrow fingers. “I’d love to see more of your skills.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Hendrix.” I forced a smile while repressing a shudder. Just the act of looking into his eyes felt as if a thousand spiders were burrowing into my skin, because I knew exactly which skills he was referring to.

“Come back tomorrow and see Jeanette in casting,” he said.

I ignored the fact that he was stroking that pencil with more fervor. He could jerk off his pencil all he wanted. All that mattered was that I’d gotten the part.

I squeezed my hands into fists, resisting the urge to shout for joy as my heart did backflips. “Yes, sir.” 

Turning up my chin, I exited the room with a confident swagger, smiling sweetly at the other girls in the waiting room. Most of them glared back.

* * *

A
s soon as I got to my car, I called my agent and let him know the good news. He sounded a mixture of surprised and relieved, no doubt because I was one of his few working clients. The guy’s office wasn’t much bigger than a broom closet, but he was the only agent in town who’d agreed to represent me.

After I hung up with him, I called Savannah and screamed the good news into the receiver. She answered back with several screams of her own. I didn’t keep her too long, though, because I could hear her new boyfriend laughing in the background. She told me they were out at the lake, no doubt swimming and then fucking like rabbits. Those two were practically joined at the crotch.

Mamá wasn’t as excited as Savannah. She congratulated me, but her tone was subdued, as if she was more worried than pleased. Although, how could I have predicted any different? She’d expected the high school Salutatorian to go onto law or medical school, not party her way through college and then pursue an acting career. After all Mamá had sacrificed to bring me to this country, I knew I’d let her down more than once.

Maybe, though, after she saw her daughter as an ass-kicking Latina cop, she’d finally be proud. At least, I hoped so. 

As soon as I got home, I rushed over to Brad’s house and banged on his door.

It didn’t take him long to open. He stepped onto the porch, freshly showered and shaved, and smelling like cool mint. He dangled his keys while staring down at me, his expression completely unreadable.

My heart plummeted. I recognized that disinterested look. Brad was in work-mode. He couldn’t care less about me. Besides, his hand was probably chapped and his dick rubbed raw after his date with the nudie magazine.

“I got the part!” I forced a note of enthusiasm into my voice.

He smiled. “Congratulations.”

I thumbed toward his car. “Let’s go celebrate.” I didn’t know why I bothered. I knew he was going to reject me.

“I can’t.” He frowned. “I have to go in to work.”

Well, this sucked. My one friend in this town was too busy to celebrate my achievement.

“Can’t you take a day off?” I asked, hating the pleading note that slipped into my voice. I sounded like I was losing control. That wasn’t good.

Brad heaved a sigh, causing me to cringe. I sensed a lecture, and I hated lectures almost as much as I hated relinquishing control.

“Ariana,” he said as he smoothed a hand down his face, “I have patients depending on me.”

“But I need you, too, Brad,” I pleaded, closing the short distance between us. I placed a hand on his chest, pleased at the feel of his heartbeat quickening beneath my touch.

Brad was warm and solid, not what I expected for someone who spent a good portion of his free time playing video games. I knew this because his living room was set up with three large flat-screens and a gaming chair so he could play an online reality game. Weird, I know, but at least that meant he was versed in role-play. Hopefully, his character was subservient.

“Ariana, I’m sorry.” He swiped my hand off him as if he was brushing crumbs off his shirt.

Was that all I was to him? Discarded crumbs?

Well, shit.

Without saying another word, I turned from him, back as straight as Mamá’s old ironing board. I walked into my rented house and into the kitchen. Covering my face with my hands, I let out a string of curses. Then, I slid to the floor in an emotional heap, crying like a love-struck child. What was wrong with me that I’d get so upset by Brad’s rejection? He was just some vanilla preppy doctor. He wasn’t my type at all. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

“I
’m here to see Jeanette in casting.” I fought to keep my voice steady as I stared at the skinny, spray-tanned woman holding the clipboard.