The Romantic Dominant (5 page)

When his eyes opened to greet the day, he felt the all too familiar void. His long-held desire was to ooze from sleep, finding a sweet, warm, yielding woman next to him, but it wasn’t Catherine on his mind, it was Gabriela, and had been every morning since they’d met.

Her bizarre brush off was still puzzling him, and though his previous night’s resolve remained clear, he fleetingly wondered if trying to find her was a foolish notion.

Maybe this has just been a romantic fantasy, a fantasy with no substance, maybe I should just walk away,
but as the thought meandered through his mind, he knew it didn’t feel right.

No, I can’t do it. I don’t know why, but I can’t
, and shaking off his doubts, he stretched and yawned.

Sitting up he reached for the tablet on his nightstand, touching the button that controlled the drapes. Watching the blackout curtains give way to the morning, the sun reflecting off the chrome and glass of the city below, he sent out a silent message.

I’m not giving up on you, Gabriela. I’ll continue to live my life, but I’m not letting you go.

The day was an office day. He made his presence known three or four times a week, and though he could easily work from home he knew his attendance kept his employees on their toes. His company, DD Construction, had succeeded beyond his dreams, with the office parks housing larger and more elaborate buildings, incorporating retail outlets and restaurants, and though he could retire without a care he still found his work to be a buzz.

He enjoyed hunting for the land, working with the architects and designers, and watching his buildings take shape. It was true there was a part of him that wanted to travel the world, but only if he had a very special someone with whom he could share the wondrous sights and exciting experiences.

Wandering out to his kitchen he brewed a cup of coffee in the built-in coffee maker, and as he passed back through the living room he touched a screen on the wall that powered on the television. The sound was piped throughout the penthouse, and padding into his bedroom, placing his coffee on the nightstand, he heard an announcer predicting rain later in the day.

The seasons are changing again. Winter will soon be upon us, just as it was when I met her,
he sighed.
It feels like yesterday
.

Turning on his waterfall shower, he did so wishing he had her to nestle against as the wind and rain blasted its fury through the cold nights that lay ahead.

Zander was a suit man, and feeling particularly conservative, as he often did the morning after a night of debauchery, he selected a dark navy Armani, a cream shirt, and a red and navy tie. He had a meeting with the head of his retail leasing division late morning and it was important that he looked like who he was, the CEO of a statewide commercial construction company.

Downing the last of his coffee, and deciding as he usually did, to skip breakfast, he grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door.

Driving through the busy city streets, the wind waving the sidewalk trees, as he neared his office he passed a storefront that beckoned. He rarely dated anyone from the ‘outside,’ as he termed it, meeting his lovers either at the club or on fetish sites on the internet. His few attempts at dating in the vanilla world had been painfully frustrating for him and disappointing for the women in question, but a few weeks earlier he had met someone who had piqued his interest; her name was Heather Forrester.

Heather was a high-end florist who had opened a shop near his office. One morning he’d simply wandered in, more out of curiosity than anything else, and the smiling, auburn-haired woman who greeted him possessed a twinkle in her eye. On an impulse he’d decided to dip his toe back into the water of the ‘outside’ world, hoping the twinkle might mean something more.

They’d had lunch, then he’d taken her to an intimate, romantic restaurant for dinner. The conversation had been comfortable and entertaining, some light flirting had transpired, and as he’d said goodnight at her door, he had taken her head in his hands and kissed her; not a dutiful, easy kiss, but a real kiss, a passionate kiss, an ardent kiss. To his joy she had kissed him back, then slightly panting, had melted against his shoulder.

Parking in the building that housed his company, he walked the short distance to her store, and when he entered he found her creating some fresh displays for her window.

“Zander, what a surprise,” she smiled, dropping the scissors on her work bench to greet him with a hug. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just thought I’d stop in and say hello,” he smiled, hugging her warmly.

“Would you like to have dinner at my place tonight?” he asked, the spontaneous invitation unplanned.

“You can cook?” she grinned.

“I didn’t say I can cook,” he grinned back. “I asked if you’d like to have dinner at my place.”

“Ah, this is true,” she laughed.

“If it’s too last minute, if you already have plans…”

“No, I don’t have plans and I’d love to come. Thank you.”

“Great. Would you like me to send a car, or pick you up, or-”

“Actually, I drive,” she replied facetiously, cutting him off.

“Of course you do, I just thought if you wanted wine-”

“Not to worry,” she interrupted again. “I’m a big girl.”

“That’s fine then, whatever suits you,” he said agreeably, and pulling a pen from his breast pocket, he wrote his address on the back of his card. “There’s valet parking if you want it, if not there’s a guest parking area to the right of the front doors. Does 7:30 sound doable?”

“It does,” she nodded taking the card from his hand. “I’m looking forward to it.”

He pecked her on the cheek, then walked out of the store, wondering if his offer of transportation had been somehow insulting.

It’s the old-fashioned romantic in me. I want to take care of women, but it seems they want to show they don’t need me.

Shaking off the feeling that maybe he’d been born in the wrong era and wondering if he’d just made a mistake, he strode back to his car, collected his briefcase, and rode the elevator up to his office.

But I want to be needed
, his voice continued.
Hell, maybe I need to be needed. When did it become a crime for a man to take care of the woman in his life? Maybe I should cancel, but am I’m overreacting?

The elevator dinged its arrival, and as the doors opened he shook off the irritation and headed down to his office, but as he was about to enter his cell phone jangled. Pausing, he pulled the phone from his pocket and stared at the caller. Tennison Dental. It was Abigail. He was already running behind schedule, and deciding to check her message later he hit the ‘ignore’ button.

Opening the double doors into his suite he smiled his good morning to Sophie, the secretary who had been with him since he first started business. There was a time when it was just the two of them, and there were few people in his life he trusted more.

“Morning,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “Tom is in there. Something about architects for the condo complex.”

DD Construction occupied two floors of the high-rise, but he was in the process of creating a new office complex which would house his company, and consist not just of offices and retail outlets, but a block of condominiums; it was his most ambitious project to date.

“Darn, I forgot.”

“He hasn’t,” she remarked.

Tom Sullivan was Zander’s right-hand man, possessing a keen instinct for people and a remarkable head for analysis. He had become invaluable over the last several years and was one of the reasons Zander’s company had grown as fast as it had.

“Sophie, do me a favor. Call Diane, or Nathan, see if either of them can cater a dinner for me tonight, only two people.”

“That sounds interesting,” Sophie grinned.

“That remains to be seen,” he answered, grinning back. “Fish I think, whatever’s good right now, to be served around 7:45.”

“I’ll make sure someone will show up to potter around your kitchen,” she replied. “That means you have to be home by 6:30 at the latest.”

“Yes, ma’am. I will be there.”

As he walked into his inner sanctum, greeted Tom and settled behind his desk, the word ‘interesting’ bounced around his head.

I won’t cancel. I will find out though, if Heather and I march to the same drummer,
but as the morning progressed, it was Gabriela who remained in his thoughts.

A
cross town Connor Matthews was standing on the sidewalk peering into a restaurant, watching the perky young thing he’d met online. As always he’d made sure he was late, and had been covertly watching her for some time. She had continuously shot furtive glances towards the door while destroying several paper napkins with her fidgeting fingers.

Online she had been laughably easy, and once he’d ascertained that she had no family in the city and lived alone, he’d spent the rest of their online chats and telephone conversations charming and seducing her.

He needed a new slave in the house immediately, and the younger the better. An obedient, subjugated slut to wash his clothes, clean his house, cook his meals, and of course, satisfy his lustful cock, then he could rid himself of the annoying, insanely stubborn Brazilian Bitch. It had been months and the woman still refused to submit.

Snatching Gabriela had been about revenge, not seduction, and he hadn’t considered for a moment that he wouldn’t be able to overwhelm her, but she had proven to be completely impossible.

“Submission is given, not taken,” she would repeatedly hiss, her voice icy, “and there is nothing you can say or do. I will never give in to you, never,” and he would feel his cock shrivel and die.

She had to go. She’d suffered, for sure she’d suffered, and he had savored every minute of her suffering, but she’d also been incredibly irritating and troublesome.

The girl at the table kept checking her watch; she was on her lunch hour and his tardiness was making her late. He smiled, it was perfect, and opening the restaurant door he walked purposefully towards her. She was as blond as the photographs she’d sent, and just as thin. He liked thin and he made sure his slaves stayed that way. Thin was weak and they needed to be weak.

He was accomplished and handsome, one of the premiere residential architects in the city. Over the years he had massaged egos, contributed to charities, and developed many friends in high places; his public personna was outstanding, his reputation impeccable, and he was extremely proud of the facade he’d created.

“Abigail?” he asked, smiling his best smile.

“Hi,” Abigail bubbled. “It’s so great to meet you. I was getting worried.”

“Worried? I’m here five minutes early. We said 12:30, it’s only 12:25,” he declared as he sat down.

“I thought, uh, sorry. I thought it was…” she flushed.

“You thought it was what? Earlier? I can assure you, it was 12:30. I’m a busy man, I don’t mistakes like that.”

“Sorry, yes, I’m sure,” she replied, her blush deepening.

“Please don’t tell me you only have thirty minutes left,” he sighed, dropping his smile and making sure his voice had an edge of annoyance.

“It’s okay. I’ll stay as long as you want,” she offered, staring across at him. He wasn’t just handsome, he was really handsome, and had so much confidence. Connor Matthews was just as she had imagined he would be, but even better.

“That’s good to hear,” he smiled back, his features softening. “I’m so happy to meet you and I would hate to rush.”

“Me too,” she said hastily, wondering how she would explain a late return to her office manager. “I looked at your houses,” she continued, eager to change the subject. “Like, wow.”

“Not my houses, houses I designed,” he corrected her.

“I have another friend like you,” she offered. “Not like you exactly, but a guy who builds offices. I guess it’s people like you who draw the plans, and people like him who do all the building.”

“Something like that, but let’s talk about you. Do you like to cook? I love homemade meals.”

“I can, I can make just about anything,” she beamed.

“Excellent,” he smiled, taking her hand across the table. “Let’s have some lunch and talk about the first meal you’re going to prepare for me.”

“Okay,” she eagerly replied, and as his hand wrapped around hers, a wave of goosebumps shivered across her skin.

“Of course, if you cook for me and it’s not perfect,” he warned, leaning across the table and dropping his voice, “I’ll have to take you over my knee.”

It was what they all wanted to hear.
I’m going to spank you.
Just as he knew she would, she blushed anew and dropped her eyes. He wanted to yawn, he wanted to slap her, he wanted to bundle her into his car and take her home and lock her in his cage, but he had to play the game; no, he liked to play the game. It amused him, even if there were moments that were annoyingly predictable.

“Why are you blushing? You know that’s what you want, for me to spank you?”

“Yes,” she tittered, his words causing the butterflies to flutter wildly in her belly.

“How long has it been?”

“Just the other night,” she confessed.

“Really? I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend,” he frowned.

“I don’t. It was just a one time thing. I really liked him but he thought I was too young.”

“Ah, I see. We’ll you’re not too young for me. I think you’re just perfect.”

She smiled, sparkling her eyes at him, and he called the waitress to the table, ordering for them both.

“How did you know what I like to eat?” she asked as the waitress left.

“I didn’t, but you’ll eat what I order, won’t you, Abby?”

“Um, yes, I will,” she stammered.

He could see she was gobbling it up. Mr. Take Charge, Mr. You’ll Do As I Say, Mr. I’m Going To Spank You, was sweeping her off her pretty little feet, and as he knew it would, calling her Abby had touched her heart; once again it was all so predictable.

“I think you need a firm hand, Abby. Would you agree?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“If you don’t want a firm hand you’d best tell me now. I’ll not hesitate to spank you, and if you give me any arguments I’ll just spank you harder. So tell me, do you want a firm hand?”