A Dominant Man (51 page)

I admire him in his new clothes. A big difference from the paint covered shirt and ripped jeans, once his uniform. His hair was longer, shaggier, and always had a just rolled out of bed appearance. His once lean frame is now bulkier, solid. His muscles flex under the sleeve of his jacket, and I squirm.

“I’ll take yer silence as a yes,” he says, snapping me out of my admiration.

“Yes, but…”

“Enough said. Now, let’s move onto the show tonight.”

I shake my head stridently from side to side, but I don’t look at him, not even when I reply, “I can’t go. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why? Because I love you?” he asks like it shouldn’t play a part in my decision to attend.
How can he say I love you so casually as if saying hello?
What is with the men in my life? Are none of them sane? Or am I crazy?

“Well, yes. That complicates things, and I can’t handle any more complications in my life right now.”

“I don’t want my love for you to deter you from comin’ to the show. You can even invite yer little boyfriend along. I’d love to meet the young lad I’m goin’ up against.”

Little boyfriend? Young lad? Hardly.

“Damian isn’t a
man
you want to go to war with,” I retort condescendingly, slightly aggravated.

“We’ll see. Anyhow, I want you at the gallery for support. I also feel you should see my current work because you inspired it. Yer opinion always meant a great deal to me.”

“I inspired it?” I ask with a stunned expression plastered on my face, eyes wide and wary.

“Aye, and I want to hear yer take on what I’ve done.”

“You’re putting me in a tight spot.”

He beams up at me, a mischievous grin spreading across his youthful face, and I gasp.

“I’m not tryin’ to put you between a rock and a hard place. I’m attemptin’ to ensure you come. Will you please attend?”

“I shouldn’t, but as long as Hunt comes along, I don’t see why it would be a problem. You must promise me you won’t try anything or I won’t come.”

“I promise to be a good lad.”

Hunt and the succubus on the sidewalk flash through my swimming head, and I become enraged. “Then I’ll be there,” I reply, aggressively shoving a bite of my seafood medley into my mouth.

“Grand.” He grins to himself. “Now, let’s relax and enjoy our meal,” he says, digging into his lemon grilled salmon and wild rice.

Gigi Bared

I
’m still in a daze from lunch. At four thirty, my desk phone rings, and I pick it up quickly.

“Hey,”
Kat says.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“I’ve been informed you have a meeting with Mr. Hunt. I was asked to call you ASAP. Hope you aren’t in trouble.”

“Oh, I probably am. Alright, thanks.”

“No prob.”

I hang up and head out of my office to confront Hunt. I take the elevator up, and the front desk receptionist greets me. She smiles enthusiastically at me and guides me to his office toward the back. I feel the angry hornets buzzing about violently in my stomach from a combination of fear and rage.

We approach the single desk in front of the tall, ominous doors leading to Damian. The head Assistant rises and walks to the door, opening it for me.

“Mr. Hunt is ready for you. Please, come in,” she says sweetly.

“Thank you,” I reply, confidently strutting through the door, which shuts promptly once I’m inside.

I spot Damian at his desk, pounding away at his laptop and speaking heatedly with someone on the phone. He doesn’t look up at me.

I walk over to a couch to my right and take a seat, waiting patiently until he finishes a few moments later. I watch him hang up and lean back in his chair, letting out a long, exasperated breath. He places his hands over his face and rubs sluggishly. When he removes them, his eyes are dark, hooded, and peering at me absorbedly, but he doesn’t say anything.

I rise from the couch, as my jealous anger morphs into a wild lust, and saunter over to him. He watches me as I hike up my skirt, revealing my garter and black lace panties. He shifts in his seat, adjusting himself through his pants. I lift a stem and climb on, sitting astride his lap, facing him with one leg on each side. I feel his erection poking into my clenching apex and place my hands on his shoulders for balance.

He slinks his arms about my waist and comes in for a rough, passionate kiss. He stands up, sweeping his desk clean of the laptop and paperwork, and lays me on the desk. I wrap my legs about his waist, culling him into me. His kisses become unrelenting and desperate. His hands grasp my gartered thighs and squeeze until it burns, until I burn. I writhe at the carnal need of his touch, moaning against his lips.

He rises and unzips his pants, ripping his cock out as he shifts my panties to the side. He thrusts into me, spreading me wide, sinking to the base in one swift stroke. He clamps onto my waist and thrashes me onto him in slow, rough drives. I glance up into his earthy eyes, and they’re blazing with desire and rage. His upper lip curls into a snarl, his brow furrows.

So, this is angry sex. Hot.

“Mine,” he growls, pounding into me so hard my body slides across his desk. He slams me back onto him, and I moan stridently, clasping my hands onto my breasts, compressing them together. He groans, battering my slippery slit with his concrete cock, taking me so completely, I squirm and bow, crying out with every rough drub. He picks up the speed and fucks me vigorously until he collapses onto me, shooting his warm honey inside me, and I crumble under him.

“Yours,” I cry.

His hot, stressed breath rushes past my neck, and he groans as he extracts himself from me. I shiver at the emptiness and yank my skirt down. He reaches up the opening and shifts my panties back in place. He shoves himself back into his pants and zips them quickly. He runs his fingers through his hair, fixing the sex mussed strands.

I sit up, and he takes a seat in his chair.

“Would you like to explain earlier?” he asks sternly.

“Sure. You first, slick,” I retort, panting, with a cocked brow.

“I was coming down to you, and she stopped me before I reached the car. Now, it’s your turn.”

“I went to lunch alone with Walker because Chase couldn’t make it. I sent you a text.”

“I received it. Why do you think I was trying to get to you? Why would you go to lunch with him alone?”

“My plan was to go whether Chase accompanied me or not. I told you we needed to talk about our relationship, the way it ended.”

“How did th
at go?” I bite anxiously at my bottom lip and look up at him from under my long, black lashes. “Gabrielle? What happened?”

“He kinda…sorta…told me he still loves me.”

“It doesn’t surprise me.” He runs his hands through his just fucked hair again and sighs, leaning back into his large, black leather chair.

“Are you going to punish me?”
I ask, unable to keep the nervous tremble out of my voice.

“Yes,”
he replies in a stern tone, face unreadable.

“Oh,” I mutter, staring down at my lap. “For my behavior in the car?”

“Yes,” he replies, lips fixed in a razor-sharp line.

“Now?” I glance up at him.

“No, not now.” He rolls his head back and shuts his eyes, letting out a calming breath. “Well, that settles that.”

“What settles what?”
I ask with a probing gaze, eyes focused on his resting face.

He opens his eyes and gazes at me, his head still
lazing against the chair. “I assume you won’t be seeing him again.”

“Don’t assume,” I retort, crossing my arms.
“It makes an ass out of you and me.”

“You’re going to see him after his confession?” he asks,
lifting his head, obviously revolted by my response.

“Yeah. We’re attending his art show tonight.”

“The hell we are,” he replies with a huff.

“Ok, then I’m going, and
I’ll meet you at the party later.”

“The hell you are.”

“Hunt, you have two choices.” I uncross my arms and clasp my hands to the edge of his desk, leaning my weight forward. “You can accompany me, or I attend it alone. Either way, I’m going to support him and show up. I prefer the first option to the second…Which is it, slick?”

“Of course I fall for the one woman who refuses to do anything I ask of her,” he mumbles to himself. “You know I could just command you to do what I want, forbid you to go.”

I shoot him a look.

“Yeah, because that worked out real well for you last time.”

He groans and rubs his face. “Fine, I’ll escort you,” he replies, defeated.

“Excellent.” I scoot off his desk and stand in front of him with a suggestive grin. “Now, let me show you how much I appreciate it.”

I get on my knees and unzip his pants, gazing deep into his eyes. He relaxes into the chair with a wicked grin, and I go down on him until he cums, moaning my praises.

“D
r. White will see you now.” His receptionist announces from behind her desk. I rise off the flower-patterned couch and put down the several months old magazine I was skimming threw. The majority of the ‘new’ celebrity it couples are either split, married, or expecting.

I step through the light oak door, finding the good Doc sitting in his worn leather armchair, jotting down notes from his last patient. He’s in his late thirties and terribly handsome with a strong jaw and cheekbones, midnight black hair, and kind dark brown eyes. He’s wearing rectangular glasses and a gray bow tie, which matches his vest, and a white button-up dress shirt with pleated tan trousers. Very geek chic.

“What’s up, Doc?”

He glimpses up from hi
s notepad and shoots me a wholehearted grin.

“Ellie, how good to see you. How have you been?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I’m here to help.”

We laugh, and I take a seat on the brown, plush leather couch.

“What can I do for you? How have you been dealing?”

“I’m better, but I realized I still have a ways to go before I’m truly healed.”

“Yes, I agree,” he replies, crossing his legs. “Your past will always be there, but I know you will conquer it. Though you may never fully heal, you can move on from it. You went through an exceedingly traumatic experience. That tends to weave itself into the fabric of who you are and will become.”

“I’m starting to comprehend the depth of its hold.”

I clear my throat and continue, “I’m actually here to discuss my new relationship, whether I’m making the right choices regarding it. We’ve been together a short time, and we’re already making plans to move in, get married, have kids. The fact of the matter is, I want all of it, but I’m not sure if I’m ready, if we’re ready. We’ve had many obstacles thrown in our path, and I’m unsure we’re handling it in a healthy fashion.”

“Ok. Let’s take a calming breath and discuss your issues one at a time, shall we? First, how long have you been seeing this current boyfriend?”

I wriggle. “One week tomorrow.”

Jeez, I sound freakin’ crazy.

“Gabrielle,” He gives me a gentle reprimanding stare, “You hardly know the boy, and you’re already talking about a very serious future. You should be taking time to get to know him, so you understand whom you’re moving in with.”

“I know it’s nuts,” I reply, sinking further into the couch with my hands over my face, “But he wants it all right now, and I don’t know how to stop this runaway train.”

I slap my hands back onto the couch, suddenly drained just thinking about it.

White leans forward, stiffening his posture, and points his pen at me, sporadically wagging it to emphasis the key points of his resolution. “First, you tell him you aren’t ready for such a momentous commitment or step at this present juncture. You must communicate your thoughts and feeling with him. If he loves you, he’ll respect your decision to take time. You aren’t a victim anymore. You’re a survivor, and you need to take charge of your present and future. You decide what’s right for you. No one else. You’re a magnanimous young woman with great potential. Don’t allow anyone to determine who you are or what path you choose to walk in life. Not even me.”

He sinks back into his chair, placing the butt of the pen between his lips.

“Thank you.” I sigh. “So, what you’re saying is, I shouldn’t take the next step yet.”

“I can’t tell you what to do. You must make your own decision on the matter. However, in my professional opinion, I wouldn’t advise you to make the leap at this time. I would wait several months before I would even consider such a decision.”

“I hear you.” I reply disappointed, licking at my dry bottom lip.

“Do you?” he asks with a creased brow and skeptical gaze.

I shake my head. “Yes, loud and clear.”

“You’re still going to move in with him, aren’t you?” he asks, seeing right through me as if I were made of glass.

“Yes,” I answer truthfully.

“Then why are you really here? Were you looking for my approval?”

“Yes, but I guess whether or not I have it, I’m still going to do what I want.” I shrug.

“That’s because you’re stubborn. You’re also taking my advice, which is to think for yourself, and I support that. What type of relationship would you say you have? What unhealthy methods are you using to cope with these obstacles you were speaking of?” He places his chin in his palm as his elbow rests on the leather chair’s armrest.

“We have an amazingly complicated, overwhelmingly consuming, deeply passionate one. Quite simply, I’m mad about the boy. He’s incredible, but we’ve been dealing with a lot of deep-rooted issues and poisonous people seeking to break us apart. We manage to articulate our feelings and thoughts when it comes to certain topics, but in other circumstances, we tend to mask the issues with sex or make it worse by yelling. It may sound crazy, but I’m happier with him than any man before, even when I’m miserable.”

“Even though your choice to move in together is a hasty one, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you giving yourself to someone. This is an enormous improvement from Walker or Chase. You would’ve never considered such a huge stride in a relationship before. What do you believe is the cause of this?”

“He’s the one. He’s opened me up in ways I never knew I could. He loves and cherishes me with every well-formed molecule in his body. He would do anything for me, which makes me want to do the same for him. He makes me want to be a better person.”

“I have to say, he does seem to
have done wonders for your self-esteem.” He lets out a long breath, removing his chin from his palm, and rubs his forehead. “I want you to come back to see me in a few weeks. I want to keep an eye on you, make sure you aren’t getting yourself into trouble. Will you come back to see me? You can bring him along if you like.”

“I’m unsure if he would be willing, but I will most definitely come back for a session.”

“Good,” he replies with a large, genuine smile. “Unfortunately, our time is up. I’m sorry I couldn’t see you longer today, but I’m swamped with patients.”

“I understand. I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice.”

“Anytime. My door is always open…metaphorically speaking.”

I rise, extending a hand out. He clasps on and gives one good shake. “Bye, Doc.”