Nina's Dom

by Raven McAllan

  "She used to say that." Dominic opened his bottle of water and drank deeply. Nina twisted hers in her hand and waited for him to continue.

  "My wife."

  She dropped the bottle. It fell onto the carpet and toppled sideways to roll a little before settling. Luckily the seal stayed secure.

  His wife? So where is she then?

  "Oh don't worry, I'm not playing without her." Obviously Nic—she'd think of him like that from now on, Dominic the Dom was a bit of a mouthful—had noticed her jump. Well he'd be hard pressed not to. Her water had missed his foot by an inch. He retrieved the bottle and set it on its base.

  If he's a Dom he would notice things like that, wouldn't he? Nina wondered what she'd got herself into.

  "Lue. My wife. She died three years ago. Cancer. I lost my interest in BDSM then."

  He sighed, and Nina leaned toward him to squeeze his arm in silent sympathy. A hint of fresh citrus and pomegranate cologne teased her senses. Mixed in with the scent of man it was a powerful aphrodisiac, and Nina reacted to it like one of Pavlov's dogs. Her clit tingled, and her nipples hardened. She daren't look down to see if they stood out against her top. It would be mortifying, especially when he was talking about his late wife.

  "Look, this isn't a sob story," Nic said. "I'm trying to give you a little background info. I honestly haven’t had the slightest inclination to do more than demo since. Even then it's only when necessary. And never ever at wax or Shibari, which Lue—Luella—and I did most often. They were our scenes. Now all I can think of is what you and I will do together. Perhaps not those, not yet, but something."

  "Um." Nina swallowed hard, and found her voice. "I'm sorry for your loss. And don't worry about scenes, of any sort. In fact let's just chat about the weather, and then I'll get ready for the dreaded karaoke. I'm not interested at all. Truly. I only came because I couldn't see a way out of it. And now I'm here with you, and I'm not with them anyway so it's all immaterial. I could have met them in town later. Seriously none of it is my thing, believe me."

  "Why not?"

  His tone was once more the listen and obey one that sent her senses on high alert. She might not be interested in him on one level, but on another one—the most basic one—his absolute authority hit her like a sledgehammer, and every fiber of her being wanted to do anything he asked.

  "Don't tell me you're too tight minded to explore things that might be right for you?" He looked at her like an insect under a microscope.

  Nina bit her lip. Her maybe, just maybe, attitude dissolved as fast as snow on a south facing slope. The look he gave her, as her body tightened, was enough to make her search her mind for the best way to respond politely and not show her annoyance. She didn't have red hair and a temper to match for nothing.

  "Why," she said in as even a tone as she could manage, "do people always think that once you've tried something, you know, been there, done that and got the t-shirt, and decided it’s not for you, you're either too wussy, too prissy, or too narrow minded to carry on?"

  "Because it's usually true?" Nic said. "Isn't it?"

  "Not at all." Nina stood up and glared down at him. "That's a pathetic argument for when someone isn't getting their own way."

  He chuckled, and the strain lines on his face disappeared to become crinkle lines of laughter. The transformation made her heart speed up. If she wasn't careful she'd fall for him hook, line, and sinker, and Nina could only guess at the complications that could bring.

  Chapter Four

  "It is, isn't it? Ah well, it was worth a try. Shall we start again, or do you want me to take you to your friends?" As he spoke the words, Nic hoped like hell she'd stay. Even if all they did was talk. Somehow he had to explain why to all intents and purposes he'd left the lifestyle, as well as discover the reason she was adamant she wasn't interested. She sent out so many conflicting signals. Certainly no Domme, but neither only a sub. Was she a switch? He hadn't seen any sign of that either. She actually seemed what she said. Uninterested. The solid lump of disappointment in his gut hit him hard. He waited, until finally she spoke.

  "Let's talk."

  The relief kicked the lead lump away in a flash. Nic wouldn't have been surprised if his hands trembled. He resisted the urge to sit on them.

  "Then, hi there." Nic held his hand out, and he was more than happy to see it didn't shake. "My name is Dominic Christopher. Nic to my friends, among whom I hope you will soon be counted. Born in Barbados, moved to Scotland to go to university and stayed. I'm forty-two, clean, healthy, and financially stable." Why did I add that? I sound right up myself. "Until my wife passed away I was her Dom and her Master. She was my slave. We lived the lifestyle 24/7. Since then I've had no interest. I've continued to help out here, usually on the door, or as dungeon master. I do tutorials to keep my hand in, but never in wax play and Shibari." Until now. "Those were for Lue and me and I'm not playing anywhere else in that way. I only want to demonstrate, not shall we say, participate."

  "But not wax or Shibari." It wasn't a question, and to Nic's relief Nina didn't question his decision.

  "Exactly. I've had no interest in rejoining the lifestyle to any degree until tonight. Don't ask me why. I just took one look at you and thought, 'mine', preferably Shibari tied and covered in decorations of wax. Total, three hundred and sixty degree turnaround. Presumptuous, scary, exciting, and as likely as not I'm going to crash and burn. But I'm alive again."

  "Probably nothing to do with me, it's just the right time," Nina said. Then she reddened again.

  He loved the way her emotions showed in the color of her skin.

  She gasped and shook her head. "Oh blimey, that's so rude. Sorry, it wasn't meant to be. I'm a bit out of this introducing myself lark."

  Does she think I'm not? Yet again, Nic found himself in the position of wanting to show her the errors of her ways. To have her at his feet, head bowed, and submitting. He was uneasily aware that he thought there was about as much chance as a snowball in hell of that happening.

  "As I am," he said. "Nevertheless I managed."

  "Yes, er well, there's no need to be arsy. I'm doing my best. Hello, I'm Nina Mack. I'm twenty-eight. Single, a teacher, and not interested in anything to do with BDSM. I came tonight because a friend who's a relative of Linsey set it up. That's it really."

  Somehow, Nic thought there was more to it than that. He waited, until she fidgeted under his gaze and continued.

  "Oh yes, I'm clean and solvent. I love walking, skiing, and snowboarding and riding my bike. But I also need my dose of smoke as my mum puts it. That means I love living in the city, not drawing on a dog end, but I get out into the countryside at least once a week."

  "Dog end?"

  "Fag end, ciggy, smoke, whatever you'd call it."

  "Thank you." How he'd like to discipline that attitude out of her. She thought he was arsy? She took arsy-ness to a whole new level.

  "Can I ask why?" Nic asked. He was proud of his level-toned response.

  "Why what?"

  The level tone vanished like snow in a volcano. "Hell, Nina, you're more prickly than a porcupine. I wondered why you live in town when you seem so much a country girl. Yes, I want to know how you know you’ve no interest in kink. Of course I do. And not only that, if you give me the opportunity, I'll do my damnedest to show you that you think wrongly. But give me a break here. Either meet me halfway, and mean it, or there's no point in carrying on." He stood up and opened the door. "You seem to have awakened my Dom, and if you don't want him, perhaps I should find one of your friends who does?" It was a gamble, but Nic hoped he hadn't mistaken the interested look in her eyes on more than one brief—albeit very brief—occasion.

  Nina bit her lip. Twiddled the end of her hair, tucked it behind her ear, and pulled it over her cheek again. She turned her watch around on her wrist and checked the time, and gave a half shrug.

  "I'll try."

  "That's all I ask." Nic closed the door again and returned to the seat beside her.
"How about I tell you what I'd like and why? And then you tell me why you're not prepared to entertain the idea. Or maybe that you are prepared to try?"

  "That sounds good. Sort of you show me yours and I'll show you mine?" Nina opened her eyes wide and then crossed them, before she giggled. "Over to you."

  Nic considered how to explain his relationship with Luella. He didn't want to be disrespectful to his late wife. He'd loved Luella and had been totally happy with what they shared. However he didn’t want that now.

  "Lue and I lived as Master and slave," he said again. He didn't miss the way the color ebbed from her face or the way she stiffened once more. Not for her? That's a relief. "It was all Lue wanted, to do as I desired and when. She relied on me for everything. From what panties to wear—or not—to where to go to get the shopping and how. What and when I wanted to eat. She bowed to my every whim and demand. It worked for us. Lue didn't want to make decisions. It was her option and one I was happy with. Okay, I can see you don't agree, but it was our lifestyle choice. She was my wife, my sub, my slave, and my life."

  He picked up his water again and opened the lid. Nic hadn't reckoned on the memories flooding back and making him well up. He blocked the pictures that sped through his mind, and concentrated on Nina. Her lashes were damp, and she made a noise somewhere between a sob and a sniff.

  "Hey." Nic rubbed his finger softly over her cheek, where a single trail of tears led towards her chin. "Why the tears? I didn't tell you to make you sad. It was what we wanted. Lue didn't have a dominant bone in her body. I think, though I've no proof, that for Lue, having to focus on what I asked from her, how I treated her, helped her to stay strong. She didn't go into hospital or a hospice until the last few weeks. And only then because I told her it was my wish." He sighed. "It was, but only because I knew that was where she'd get the best treatment. I loved my wife, Nina. I loved her so very much. That lifestyle was ours. However it was hard work. To be so totally responsible for everything, not just for yourself, but for someone else, is a massive responsibility. I don't want that again. A play session, some scening, yes, I want that very much, but I need time to breathe as well. To only think about myself on occasion. If that makes me selfish, so be it."

  Nic trailed his finger from her chin toward Nina's ear and retucked those errant strands of hair that seemed to have a mind of their own. Had he made it better or worse?

  She tilted her head so his palm cupped her cheek and sighed.

  "You're one special man, you know?"

  He chuckled. If she'd just tilt her head a tiny bit more and let her mouth touch his skin… Do not go there. "Not hardly. When you love or care for someone you do what's best for them. As a Dom, a Master, and a man that's my role. Was my role." He corrected himself. "Now? Now I'd like to play again. I'd like to be dominant and in charge in certain things. But in everything? No."

  "A Dom in the playroom, a Dom in the club? And what?" Nina sounded interested in his answer.

  "A man, a partner, a lover. Eventually."

  "Dom the Dom?" She giggled, and her eyes twinkled. "I bet you're sick of hearing that. It sounds like one of those old rock songs. You should be in leather and carrying a guitar."

  "How about in leather and carrying a Shibari rope?"

  "How about it? If that's your thing?"

  "One of them. Is it yours?" Say yes. Shit, please say yes. To his dismay she shook her head. Figures, just my luck.

  "In the interests of equality, it's my turn then." Nina leant back and stretched her legs out.

  Nic wished that her skirt wasn't quite so demure. What he could see of her legs gave him more than a passing fancy to see the rest. And what was between them. He let his gaze linger on the material that covered her pussy before he moved it to her breasts. Her nipples peaked under the thin cotton.

  Nina looked down her body and then stared him in the eyes. "My body might react in the way you look at me, but that's a long way from agreeing to subbing. I've been there, top, bottom, Domme and sub. It's not for me. Oh not for any great, deep dark secret. I'm really not interested. I got bored with it all."

  If she'd have said she was prepared to let him strip her and take her down Sauchiehall Street on a horse a la Lady Godiva Nic couldn't have been more surprised than the news she'd been in the lifestyle. So what had happened to stop that? He didn't believe the got bored with it all explanation. It sounded rehearsed and too pat. He raised one eyebrow. "Really?"

  She glared at him. It made no difference. He was still going to ask.

  "Who spoiled it? What did they do?"

  "No one. Nothing and everything. I had a fabulous teacher. But it left me dead. I was bored, and if I was subbing I was like, oh get on with it, now did I check if I need cheese and washing powder when I go to the supermarket. As a top I felt that I wasn't involved enough. Evidently I throw a good long tail, and can scribe to perfection. But my heart wasn't in it. In any of it."

  "What made you try?"

  "Silly though it might seem, my thesis was on kink and conformity. I went into it with an open mind. Well, it'd be hard for me not to. My twin is a big hulking medic." She paused and rolled her eyes. "And a perfect sub." Nina smiled. "Apart from Donny, who was not into the right mindset for ages, and about as much help as an ice cream in an inferno, I had a good teacher, the best. But we both agreed. So not my scene."

  Nic gave into temptation. He leaned forward and took her chin in his hands. She blinked, and her lips parted as her tongue traced the contour of her mouth. The scent of an aroused woman teased Nic as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth and let his tongue tangle with hers. She smelled of musk and spices, and all things hot. She tasted of mint and mystery.

  Nic would have laughed at his fanciful thoughts, except he was immersed in his senses, and thought no further than he wanted Nina. Any way, and any how. And soon.

  The noise of his pager was loud and intrusive. They both jumped, and he swore as he pulled back.

  "Shit." He checked the message. "Your friends are ready to go. So?"

  "So?"

  "Are you?"

  Nina struggled up off the sofa, and he followed suit.

  "I have to. It's a hen party."

  He hadn't thought she'd say anything else, and admired her integrity, even it was a blow to the gut. Get real, Christopher. Why would she do that? And if she did ditch her friends she wouldn't be the sort of person you think she is. "Will you meet me? One evening, for dinner?"

  "I don't know. I can't be what you want." She tucked her top into the waistband of her skirt.

  Creating armor? It was a definite “this is over” signal. He couldn't let it go like that. Sometimes you just knew something was worth fighting for. This was one of those times.

  "Can't? Or won't?"

  She walked to the door and put her hand on the doorknob before she turned to look at him. "Both."

  Nina was almost out of the door when Nic found his voice. "And if I accept that, and want to be friends," such an insipid word for what I'm sure we both feel, "how do I find you?"

  She grinned, and it lit her face up. Gamine, wicked, sexy, and he was damned sure more than a little bit bratty.

  "In the members list. Athol was my teacher. I trained and played here."

  As last words they couldn't be bettered.

  Chapter Five

  "What were you up to then?" Karin shouted the question over a terrible rendition of an old rock song that was being murdered by several of her friends. Nina was amazed Karin had held back for so long. When she met the others back in the foyer by herself Nina had a few loud, "ohh nudge, nudge, wink, wink, what you been up to then," comments and sniggers. Karin had merely smiled and squeezed Nina's arm.

  Nina had smiled. "Talking, and forgot the time."

  There had been commiserations from her friends, and a wink from Athol, which she ignored along with the knowing grin on his face. He might think he knew what she'd been up to, but Nina knew he didn't. And if she had her way, nor would he. She w
as under no illusion that Athol hadn't been doing his own form of Domming meddling. Somehow she thought Dominic would keep his own counsel about the time they spent together, and Athol would be doomed forever to wonder.

  Karin on the other hand was like a hungry bird tugging on a worm, and Nina accepted her friend wouldn't give up easily.

  "And don't give me that talking crap. This is me. Karin who needs to know all. Karin the ferret. So while we were giggling over Monica all tied up over her clothes and Mary-Ann going white at the sight of the St. Whosit's what's it, what were you up to? Really."

  Nina shrugged. Evidently Karin was never going to believe her, whatever she said.

  "Discussing what we could get up to," she said lightly and rolled her eyes. "When, where, and how."

  It was enough to make Karin giggle. "Oh okay, you were just talking then. How boring." She tutted. "Nina, why?"

  "Why what?" Nina was pleased that telling her truth wasn't believed. "Why am I boring? It's me rebelling against my heritage. Dad was in the Australian Navy of all things, and we saw him as and when. It didn't bother us; it was life. In fact I spent a large chunk of my gap year with him. He owns a fruit farm in Western Australia now, and lives with his boyfriend Ron. My mum was—is—a hippy, and dragged Donny and me all over the place. She writes kids books, so in those days it was have typewriter, can travel, and by all the gods we did. She called it soul growing, and I called it soul shriveling. At the mercy of someone else's whims, when they really don’t understand you, is not good. Mum, bless her, could never grasp how she could have given birth to someone as conventionally minded as me, and said I was a throwback to Dad's side of the family. Not hers because she has suffragettes and conscientious objectors for ancestors. She's in a yurt somewhere in the Highlands at the moment, with a tall dark Russian called Yuri, her cat Mischa, and her laptop." She smiled as she remembered her flower loving, folk singing, unconventional parent.