Temporary Dom
Bad Boys of Rock
A Club El Diablo Novel
Holly S. Roberts
Chapter One
Machala
I looked up from my computer screen when Danny walked through the office door.
“Ms. Winters, there’s someone here to see you who doesn’t have an appointment.” It was obvious he spoke for the benefit of the person waiting to see me.
Danny then closed the door behind him, which was as surprising as the clipped, “Ms. Winters,” when he normally called me Machala. I watched my assistant closely. “Do you have any intention of informing me who it is?”
He gritted his teeth and said, “Mr. Luke Isaak.”
What the hell? I did everything I could to keep the shock from my face, but, as usual, Danny saw through it.
“I’d be happy to show him out, or call security, or kick his ass. Your call, Machala.” The gleam in his eyes was pure evil.
It almost had me laughing. Danny was five eight and weighed about one-forty. He had as much chance of kicking Luke’s ass as I did. More than anything, I wanted to bury my head in my arms and refuse to see him. It had been six months since our final goodbye, if you could call it that. Pain, sex, and humiliation were a more apt description. All of which pretty much encompassed our entire relationship. Those were the best parts actually. The prying, pseudo-psychology into what made me tick was what destroyed the best D/s relationship I’d ever had. I thought I knew exactly what I’d signed on for when I became his submissive. At the time, I had no intention of falling in love. Now, I hated myself for my weakness. Hated him for digging into my secrets and destroying everything.
With a blink of my eyes, I snapped out of my before thoughts. “Give me two minutes and show him in.”
Danny’s voice went soft. “Machala?”
“I’ll handle this. You can buy me a drink later.”
“I may be in jail,” he muttered under his breath as he turned and left the large room.
I looked around at the lavishly designed space that represented the wealth I’d accumulated. This was my office; I owned the building and presided over my kingdom. I’d built this company from the ground up. I was in charge, and Luke would not intimidate me here. I refused to check my hair, straighten my skirt and jacket, or stand. Of course, my legs were shaking, so standing wasn’t a good idea anyway. I just needed a minute to catch my breath and mentally prepare.
My phone buzzed.
“May I send Mr. Isaak in now, Ms. Winters?”
“Yes, Danny, please send him in.” My voice was singsong and sickeningly sweet. I knew Luke could hear the conversation.
Five seconds later the doorknob turned and he walked through, filling the room with his undeniable presence. It didn’t help that I hadn’t expected the suit-clad man in front of me. Luke never wore suits. Faded jeans and a t-shirt, or no shirt at all, was more like it when he was in full Dom mode or on stage in front of a sellout crowd playing drums for Blood Rights.
He walked farther into the room closer to my desk and invaded my space even though the large chunk of furniture separated us.
“May I?” He nodded to one of two chairs in front of the desk.
For a split second I was afraid my voice wouldn’t work. “Will you be here long enough to need a chair?” Please say no.
His upper lip rose in the sadistic quirk that I was very familiar with, and my heart pounded faster.
“That’s up to you. I can stand if you feel more comfortable.”
I didn’t want him standing over me and he knew it. This wasn’t that type of situation. I was in charge here. “Please sit. You’re not on my schedule for the day, so we need to make this quick.” I waved my hand at the chair. “You might as well be comfortable.”
Now his full, rare grin flashed. Luke Isaak was completely in his element standing over a quivering sub. I realized a little too late that he asked to sit so we would be on more even terms. Ever the bastard, but he thought of those small details and saw straight through me. He pulled out the chair, unbuttoned his suit jacket like a pro, and sat. It made no difference. He continued to dominate the room and me.
I thought of all my sleepless nights after I left his home for the last time.
The tears. The heartache.
If it wasn’t for Danny, I don’t know if I’d have survived. Taking a deep breath, I pulled my invisible force field around me. Silly, but a business tactic that I’d learned long ago. It’s one of the reasons I was known as the ice queen of books; the ice queen of Winters’ Publishing to be exact. I’d taken my biological father’s last name, built my publishing house from the ground up, and now competed with the big boys. And the one person I thought I’d never see again, who made my heart slide into my stomach and made me want to go to my knees and lay my head in his lap one last time, was sitting across from me.
Waiting for God knows what.
I don’t know how I managed to keep my voice even. “I believe there must be a reason for this visit, but you don’t seem to appreciate my busy schedule.”
The almost imperceptible shake of Luke’s head threw me for a second. I refused to lower my eyes. It went against everything we had had together. He hadn’t given me permission to look him in the eyes.
“I have a situation and I need your help.”
What. The. Fuck?
I was completely stumped. No way in hell could I help him with anything. “Have you decided to write your life story and come out of the sadistic closet?” It was all I could think of.
The quirk was back in his upper lip. “Frankly, publicizing my sexual idiosyncrasies is something that will never happen. You and I both know I protect the woman I’m with by keeping my proclivities discreet.”
He was right, I did know that. “So, what the hell, Luke?”
I saw his hand twitch on the chair’s arm and I almost laughed aloud. Six months ago, my use of profanity would have had me screaming in about five seconds flat with his own special version of a cane striping my bare ass. I realized for the first time since Danny said Luke’s name that I was in control. And for the first time the dominant Luke Isaak looked uncomfortable. I’d never seen this side of him. I would actually swear it didn’t exist.
This time… I waited.
He looked away before his eyes snapped back to mine. “There’s an important dinner Saturday night and I would like you to accompany me.”
I sat in complete shock having no idea what to say.
He spoke first, “Fuck.” He ran his fingers through his gorgeous, curly, sandy-blond hair before focusing his incredible dark eyes completely on me. “I’m not doing this very well. I miss you, and I’m asking you out on a date.”
My head spun. Luke and I didn’t do dates. We had an arrangement for four months, which only lasted three. I resided at his feet, he punished me, and in equal measures fucked my brains out. That was it. I refused to think of the emotional attachment I would never get over. The two of us didn’t work. Luke Isaak crossed the line.
His smile was back. “I’d like you to think about it before giving me your answer.”
My brain wasn’t working, but my lips finally managed to form words. “You are out of your fucking mind.”
The movement in his hand was more noticeable this time. “Yeah, probably.”
“The answer is no.”
He didn’t bat an eye or give up. “Are you currently in a D/s relationship?”
There lay the problem. Since Luke, no one else would do. I needed him like I needed oxygen, or at least my body thought so. My brain, slowly coming out of a Luke Isaak-induced coma, was telling me to run and never stop. This was too much. I wasn’t as unaffected by him as I hoped to be, and all at once a cloud of defeat settled
over me. “This won’t work, Luke.”
He stood, and my stomach clenched painfully because he was leaving. Slowly, he stalked around my desk until he was inches in front of me and I was looking up at him. His hair fell forward as he gazed down. With slow measured purpose, his hand went to the back of my neck, his fingers threading through my hair, pulling on the loose bun I’d placed it in that morning. He drew me up from my chair, his other hand going to my jaw.
“I’ve missed you, girl.” His lips came down, his breath taking mine. His unique taste blending into something special that had me instantly wet. Luke rarely kissed; during the months we were together, it had happened exactly twice. But I knew this kiss was so I would acquiesce to his plan. There was no way in hell I could put myself through another pseudo-relationship with him. And even though I wanted him, I wasn’t that much of a masochist.
Chapter Two
Luke
It hadn’t gone well.
No fucking joke.
I couldn’t get out of the building quickly enough.
The car pulled away and I was thankful I wasn’t driving. She looked so fucking good. Good enough to eat, and I swear I smelled her pussy when I walked into the office. I hadn’t wanted to admit how much I’d missed her scent, the musky aroma that was all her—subtle herb, light vanilla, and something I couldn’t place. Her pussy. Fuck, I was crazy.
I could almost taste it on my lips. Yes, I missed her taste too. If I was completely honest, I missed everything about her. That’s why I let her go. I was the worst sort of sadist. Cruel; finding enjoyment in humiliation and pain. And never had I enjoyed it as much as I did with the woman I just left trembling in her office. She relished it too. It was her hidden mental struggle I couldn’t fix, and maybe it was my own insecurities as a man that made it impossible for me to open the steel door she slammed in my face. It hurt because Machala taught me to feel something other than the need for submission from subs. She gave me companionship and opened my eyes to the things I’d run away from for much too long.
I struggled out of my jacket and loosened my tie before pulling it over my head. The cufflinks came off next, and a few eye blinks later, I had my shirtsleeves rolled up to my elbows. Why the fuck did I wear this getup anyway?
Double fuck.
My head hit the back of the plush leather seat and I closed my eyes remembering our first meeting.
***
Nine months before…
I arrived early to the restaurant. Gustov showed me to my usual table at the back. I didn’t like being in the center of the room because the paparazzi could easily see me there, and I avoided them at all costs. They could flock to Krispin, the lead singer of Blood Rights, and leave me the fuck alone.
Damian, the owner of Club El Diablo, an exclusive kink club in Houston, recommended the woman who would soon be joining me. She wouldn’t want paparazzi attention either. I laughed when Damian told me she owned a publishing house and was a real ball-breaker. He knew my needs and thought the two of us might be a good match. Blood Rights, my band, had just returned from a world tour and I didn’t have time to look for a woman who fit my parameters. I’d never been disappointed with Damian’s suggestions in the past, so I trusted his judgment now.
Gustov led her to my table. She wasn’t quite what I expected. Machala Winters was a hell of a lot more. Even with Damian’s description, she was much more self-assured than I was accustomed to. My cock went instantly hard refusing to listen to my inner voice that told it to calm down. She might opt out after seeing a Dom in public who couldn’t control his cock.
I stood as Gustov held out her chair and her eyes met mine. If she was already mine, I would paddle her ass for that. Then I’d fuck her until those same eyes crossed. I had no idea where the instant desire for this woman came from. This had never happened to me before. For the first time in a long time, I wanted something badly.
Now… I had to take it.
“Miss Winters.” I sat down as she nodded.
That would also receive a punishment. She would learn I required verbal communication if I didn’t have her mouth actively engaged in sucking my cock or a ball gag tight between her teeth. I wanted nothing more than to keep count of these infractions.
She didn’t look away. “Mr. Isaak.”
Gustov broke in, “Mr. Isaak, would you and the lady care for wine?”
“No thank you, Gustov. We’ll have water and I’ll order immediately.” I gave Gustov both our orders wondering if she’d object. She didn’t, and a slight smile played around her lips.
I continued studying her after Gustov walked away. Her hair was in some kind of perfectly ridiculous clip pulled away from her face. She had huge expressive eyes, deep brown with sweeping eyelashes that she used to her advantage. Her flawlessly applied makeup was too much. I’d prefer her with wild hair and nothing at all covering her almond-toned complexion. That included the designer business suit that draped her body. That would go as well. I wanted to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. She wasn’t today’s standard of skeletal thin and I liked it. My cock liked her curves too.
I had to stop gawking and start some kind of conversation. This part of the D/s negotiation had never bothered me before, but I’d never desired a woman like I desired this one. “How long have you known Damian?”
“Four years.”
Just two words, but her voice had a sensual vibe that went straight to my dick. I wanted her saying my name again, but my first name this time. We weren’t ready for intimacy, so I tried again to control my raging hard-on. I put just a touch of dominance in my voice. “Expand on that.”
She finally looked away and I fought a smile. I wanted her uncomfortable in order to see how she’d react when she didn’t have control.
“Damian invested in my company.” She brought her chocolate eyes back around to me. “How do you know Damian?” She put a touch of her own firm attitude into the question probably thinking she could retain the upper hand.
I remembered Damian’s ball-breaker comment. I was fairly good at zeroing in on submissive tendencies but wouldn’t have pegged her if Damian hadn’t recommended her. I was betting she fought her need for a dominant and it only made me want her more. I could picture her looking up while she sucked my cock, eyelashes blinking, her eyes saying she wanted to please me. It was hard to focus on the conversation, and if I couldn’t control myself she would walk. “My band mates were introduced to his club and took me along for a scene. It’s been a good partnership since.”
Curiosity made her eyes open farther. “Partnership?”
Fuck me but I had to have her. “Not quite like yours. Damian suggests submissives that fit my specifications.”
She inhaled a bit too quickly and my cock jumped at her nervousness.
I wanted to ram myself into this woman. Now.
While she looked away a moment ago, she now held my gaze. “Does Damian procure many subs for you?”
I shrugged. “One, sometimes two a year. I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Because of your music?”
“Yes.”
Her lips curved into a slow smile and my heart skipped a beat. “Expand on that.”
Her smart mouth had me reaching across the table and breaking my first rule… never touch the sub until the ground rules are set. I took her hand, rubbing my thumb across the backs of her fingers, needing to touch her seemingly more than I needed air. “My band mates are my best friends, but they play in a softer BDSM arena, much softer than I prefer. Damian knows what I require and I’m assuming he’s not wrong this time in sending you here.”
She looked down at our hands, dropping her eyes in submission, and I thought my cock would burst.
Her low voice made the throb worse, “I don’t think he’s wrong.”
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Gustov. If he hadn’t been standing there, I’d have nipped her flesh with my teeth. Leaning in, I turned her hand over and kissed her palm before releasing it. Fuck me, I
wasn’t expecting her taste or smell. Entirely unique. This was getting out of hand and I was close to embarrassing myself.
Fuck. She had to be mine.
We ate in silence. I found myself preoccupied with her hands and lips, the way she ate, and the covert glances she gave me. My thoughts centered on what it would be like to have her in my playroom—ass on display, red marks starting on the upper cheeks and trailing down the backs of her thighs in perfect precision. Tears rolling down her face. Her will submitting to mine.
“Would you like dessert?” I asked after she finished.
Her small grin and smart mouth were back. “Did you plan on ordering for me?”
I liked her feisty side too—liked that I would enjoy beating it out of her… at least for a short time. “I’m more than happy to allow you to order your own sweets.” Would she balk at “allow”?
Her grin widened. “No, thank you. The meal was wonderful.”
I peered intently into her eyes before speaking, “What do you want out of this, Machala?”
The smile left her lips. She looked around for a moment before she brought her focus back to me. “Fulfillment.”
It was the last answer I expected. I asked this of every sub I considered and I’d received everything from “Total domination” to “Someone to take care of my needs.” Both sounded stupid now. Fulfillment sounded perfect.
Her dark eyes looked intently into mine. “What do you want out of this?”
Another surprise. I’d never had the question tossed back at me. Her self-assuredness and complete control turned me on and elevated my dominant tendencies threefold.
I gave her a bit of my own intensity. “Pain, control. I want you raw and looking to me for every breath. Can you give me that, Machala?”
She didn’t blink. “I’m not sure.”
I liked her honesty. “Are you willing to try?” I was almost sure of her answer. She wanted what I offered as badly as I wanted to give it to her.
“Yes, I’d like to try.”
I needed to shove the plates from the table, lay her down, and try right here and now. “Did you drive here?”
Temporary Dom Page 1
