Rise of the Dom

by Brenna Zinn

“Yes. I’ve got a list full of things I still need to do before the fall semester begins, not to mention lesson plans and tests I still need to develop.” Lists, plans and everything timed down to the last second. The structure and order she craved in her life mirrored the math equations she would be teaching in the fall. A safe, secure future could be found on the road of predictability, and she had no intention of ever straying from that path. “I’m afraid the new freshmen are going to eat me alive if I’m not ready.”

  “Well, since we’re baby stepping, let me meet you at your office tomorrow and we’ll walk over to the Union for something to eat. If that works out well, we’ll move on from there. How does that sound?”

  A sense of peace covered her like a warm, familiar blanket. Chet could be trusted, she reminded herself. Baby steps. Only lunch for now. This approach could work if she’d just let go. Stop being so damned uptight and afraid.

  “Sounds fine.”

  “Great. I’ll pick you up at twelve.”

  Chet released her. To Emma’s dismay, he pulled on his shirt, covering the ripples of his well-tanned abs. After stepping up the stairs and passing through the hidden wall in the pantry, he retrieved his keys from the coffee table in the great room and stopped at the front door.

  Outside, a heavy rain pushed sideways by fierce gusts of wind poured from the night sky. In the yellow glow from the front porch light Emma could see small twigs and leaves blow past and the nearby trees sway.

  As if looking for an invitation to stay and weather out the storm, Chet paused in the doorway. “I really hate the thought of you being all alone out here.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl. Don’t worry about me.”

  “At least consider putting in a monitored security system. I’ll take care of everything, including paying for it. Knowing someone’s watching over you will help me sleep easier.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “I’m perfectly safe out here. The biggest threat to my safety is a tornado, and a security system won’t help with that.”

  “Okay, okay. But if you change your mind, let me know. I can have someone out here in no time.” Chet glanced at his parked car, which was barely visible in the downpour. “I don’t suppose you have an umbrella unpacked somewhere.”

  Guilt for putting Chet through so much nagged at Emma’s mind, as did the thought of sleeping alone in the house while a storm raged outside. She curled her fingers into fists by her side, determined not to back down. She was now in her thirties for Pete’s sake. Much too old to be afraid of the boogie man lurking about during a summer shower.

  Reaching around the side of the door, Emma pulled her umbrella from the stand she’d put up yesterday. “Here. You’ll be better off with this one.” She held out the umbrella. “My other one is pink with purple polka dots. I can imagine the razzing you’d get from your roommates if you showed up with that.”

  Disappointment flickered across his face, but was quickly replaced by a grin that brought out his dimples. “You’re a tough nut to crack, Ms. Sutherland. Lucky for me, I don’t give up easy. Especially when I know what’s behind the shell is something I’m going to enjoy.”

  Amused, Emma nodded toward his car. “You’d better run or you’re going to get soaked even with this.”

  He opened the umbrella and started out the door, but suddenly turned and placed a quick kiss on her mouth. “See you tomorrow.”

  Needles of lightning illuminated the blackened night sky, followed by sharp cracks of thunder. As he pulled from the driveway, Emma waved then rubbed her arms. Gooseflesh prickled her skin and a shiver ran down her spine. Though warm and humid outside, inside the house felt chilly. She scanned the thermostat on the wall before systematically walking through each room and turning off the lights.

  Seventy-four degrees.

  Probably the high humidity in the air mixing with the air-conditioning. Typical. Normal.

  Still, as she flipped off the last light on the first floor and made her way up the steps, her body trembled. When Emma entered her bedroom, she reached out with her hand to test the air temperature. The room was frigid.

  Outside the wind howled and a tree branch scraped against the side of the house. Emma glanced at the row of windows to her right. Condensation covered the glass, making it impossible to see outside. Beads of water had streaked down one of the panes.

  Another round of shivers rippled across her flesh. Her blood turned to ice.

  The seemingly random streaks on the window looked like a woman’s face caught in an endless scream.

  Chapter Two

  She said yes.

  He had to give Cleo some credit. When he’d told his lab partner he was looking for a new sub, she had certainly delivered. From the moment Cleo introduced him to Emma, the blonde beauty had consumed Chet’s thoughts, and not just the ones involving their sexual play. Tall, leggy and broken due to a failed marriage, Emma fulfilled his need to care for a sub. Unfortunately, she limited his ability to care to just the dungeon. As much as he loved being the only man to deliver the sexual pleasures Emma desired—the only Dom to tie her up and redden that pretty little ass—he wanted more. More tending to her needs. Helping her with day-to-day issues. Protecting her.

  But after eight long months, Emma finally agreed to go out with him. A giant step in the right direction. Sure, the date would be only lunch at a college cafeteria, but where they ate didn’t matter. What did was having her there, smiling and talking to him like any other man who was taking her out. For an hour or two, he would be just Chet, not her Dom.

  Hair still dripping from the soaking he’d got when running to his car, Chet ran a hand through the wet strands, pushing them from his face. He peered over the steering wheel, trying to see the road ahead. Sheets of rain pummeled the BMW. His wipers, already running at their fastest speed, barely kept the windshield clear enough to see the road.

  Luckily he met very little traffic on his way back to town. But then again, why would there be? Emma lived so far out in the boonies, he doubted many people traveled down this road.

  His grip on the wheel tightened. Emma was all alone out in the middle of nowhere. She was a grown woman capable of taking care of herself, but her ability to do so wasn’t what had his stomach tied up in knots. It was the thought of all the fucking freaks who could easily break into her place and rob her blind or worse that would keep him up from this night forward.

  She needs a security system. She needs a goddamned gun. She needs me.

  Or did she?

  For a crazy moment during their play in the new dungeon, a desire to hurt her, really hurt her, had popped into his head. Where the notion had come from still bothered him. He had never caused real harm to anyone in his life, especially to his subs. They trusted him with their safety, knowing he would not only care for them, but carefully provide just enough control and pain to satisfy their need for being dominated.

  And yet there had been those several seconds when his senses prickled, then…

  Then they were not my own.

  As he pulled into his apartment complex, he let out a sigh of relief. Neither of his roommates’ cars were in the parking lot. The apartment would be quiet, at least for a few hours. Most likely Charlie and Scott were sharing pitchers of beer somewhere and wouldn’t be home until the bars closed at two. Enough time to make sense out of what had happened tonight.

  The sound of a shower running met Chet as he walked through the living room. After carefully placing his keys on the coffee table, he made his way to the open bathroom door. The blood drained from his face.

  “Trish. What are you doing here?”

  Turning from the shower stall, Trish Blair regarded Chet, her smoldering blue eyes scanning every inch of him as though she were a predator sizing up her prey. Barefooted and soaked through, Trish’s bronzed skin shimmered as drops of water ran down her arms and impossibly long legs. Her long black hair and clothes had molded to her body, outlining every voluptuous curve. As usual, she wore no bra, lea
ving the details of her large rack clearly visible through her wet T-shirt.

  A year ago, when partying and fucking were the only things on his mind, the sight of Trish all lovely and wet would have set his juices on fire. He would have ordered her to suck his dick before bothering to say hello. And, if memory served correct, she would have gladly obeyed.

  But he was a different man now and knew how to identify a man-eating beast in sheep’s wool when he saw one. If trouble had a first name, that name would be Trish.

  “Well hello to you too, stranger.” She licked a bead of water from the tip of her full lip. “You’re looking fine as ever. Of course if you took your clothes off, I’d know for sure.”

  “What are you doing here?” Though controlled, his voice had more edge to it than he had intended. She didn’t need to know that she had crawled under his skin the moment he laid eyes on her.

  A perfect pout formed on her face. “Now is that a way to greet an old friend?”

  “I’m waiting. You have three seconds to tell me why you’re in my apartment instead of somewhere in Chicago before I toss you out on your ass.”

  “Temper, temper, Chet,” she tsked. “Chicago doesn’t have the appeal this place does, and everything I’ve come to enjoy is here. So I got a job at the college in Administration.” She smiled, flashing her straight white teeth. “You had better be nice to me, or I might accidently erase your files from the school’s database. Now wouldn’t that be a shame?”

  A chill settled over him. The natural high Emma had put him on before now plummeted like a lead balloon. “And you’re in my apartment because?”

  “I’m a guest of your roommates.” She lazily fingered the top snap of her shorts before popping it open. “I’ve got some great weed in my purse and the boys are out buying beer and pizza. We’re going to have a little party tonight. Want to join our threesome? I’m sure I can squeeze in one more.”

  Before he had a chance to respond, Trish pulled her T-shirt over her head and tossed the wet top into the sink. Like two excited puppies, her tits jiggled and bounced, the movement hypnotic.

  Though tanned to the color of light brown sugar, each breast was covered by a small triangle of pale skin where her bikini top had protected the pink peaks from the sun. Her stiff nipples practically begged for his attention.

  Trish slipped her hands under the curve of each tit then massaged them. “I can tell from the look on your face that you’re thinking about it. It will be like old times.” She glided one hand down her flat stomach and into the front of her tight shorts. “You remember how good we used to be. I’ll do whatever you command, Master.”

  Despite knowing the amount of trouble Trish could cause, visions of his former sub filled his mind’s eye. Trish on her knees, her wrists tied behind her back, staring up at him as she pumped his cock with her mouth.

  Another scene. This time her head and hands restrained in wood stocks. Her perfectly rounded bottom high in the air. The feel of his dick sliding into the tight pucker of her asshole.

  Unable to control the vivid images flooding his memories, his dick sprang to life. “Stop it, Trish. I told you a long time ago I don’t want to see you again.”

  She pulled her hand from her shorts, her fingers now wet with her juices. The smell of her sex filled the air. An all too familiar yet intoxicating scent.

  “You may not want to see me, but your cock certainly does.” Trish nodded to his crotch while she placed the damp pads of her fingers in her mouth and sucked.

  Embarrassed by his lack of discipline but unwilling to show any further weakness, Chet spread his feet apart and crossed his arms. “My dick doesn’t have control over me, Trish. Not anymore. Nor do you.” He turned and walked down the hall toward the living room. The sound of her laughter trailed behind, then mixed with the loud talking of Charlie and Scott as they entered the apartment.

  Glassy-eyed and dripping wet, Charlie offered a lopsided smile when his gaze met Chet’s. “Hey, man, Trish is back in town.” Using the back of his hand, he shoved his sodden red curls away from his face.

  “Want to hang and have a good time with us tonight?” Scott, a good three inches taller than Charlie and twenty pounds heavier, shoved past his roommate, two large pizza boxes in his muscular arms. “We got grub and beer. Trish has some shit she brought back from the city. Later on we’re gonna tap that tight ass of hers. That bitch is as fine as ever.”

  Charlie held up two six-packs. “Dude. It’s Michelob time.”

  Chet stared at his roommates, seeing them as something other than the good friends he’d known since starting college. “You two are fucking assholes. You know that?”

  “What’s your problem, dickhead? Afraid Emma will find out she’s not the only pussy in town?” Scott pushed away dirty plates and empty beer bottles from the kitchen table, making room for the pizzas. “I happen to know from personal experience she’s not.”

  “Emma’s got you whipped, dude.” The tone of Charlie’s voice was almost apologetic. “You’re twenty-six. This is your time to have fun. Sow some wild oats. You’re too rich and got too much good-looking tail chasing you to be tied down to one woman.”

  “That’s right,” Scott agreed, combing through his wet black hair with his fingers. “You’re acting like you’re an old married man, not a single guy with the world at his feet. Live a little. We promise we won’t tell Emma a thing.”

  “When I get back, that crazy bitch had better be long gone from here. Every fucking trace of her, understand?” Grabbing the handle with a little more force than necessary, Chet yanked open the apartment door.

  “Where are you going?” Charlie asked, his eyes round.

  “A hotel. I’m not sticking around while Trish is here and you two are making asses of yourselves.” Chet stepped onto the front cement slab then turned around. “And if you ever, EVER invite her back, you can find yourselves a new place to live. Don’t fucking forget who’s paying for this place.”

  As he slammed the door closed, he noticed Scott’s one-fingered salute.

  * * * * *

  The flap, flap, flap of flip-flops against the marble floor echoed down the hallway, announcing a visitor in the math department. That the person wearing the shoes continued to march down the long passageway could mean one of two things. The visitor wanted to speak with Emma or intended to get into the custodial closet next to Emma’s office. Both were at the end of the hall and both were rarely ever seen by anyone but the janitor or Stephanie, the crazy, teeny-bopper secretary for the math department. Considering Emma had never seen the janitor wear what she and her friends referred to as K-Mart trotters on the college campus, the list of possible visitors quickly narrowed. When a female voice humming a Britney Spears song floated into the office, Emma’s theory was confirmed.

  “Hey, Ms. Sutherland. How was your first night at the new place?” Stephanie breezed in, her long red hair and bright multicolored gypsy skirt a flash of color against the beige walls of Emma’s small office. She came to an abrupt halt after giving Emma the once-over. “Or should I ask? You look like hell.”

  Considering the number of piercings in Stephanie’s ears, eyebrows and God only knew where else, the term “looking like hell” seemed ridiculous in comparison to Emma’s own looks. Sure, she didn’t feel as though she’d slept at all in the last seventy-two hours and she hadn’t bothered to put on much more makeup than a quick swipe of blush and mascara, but at least she didn’t look like a cross between a hippie and a voodoo doll.

  As tempting as ignoring the strange young woman might be, Emma simply didn’t have it in her to be rude. Plus, Stephanie did work directly for the dean of the department, someone whom Emma wanted very much to impress. If she treated Stephanie well, the chances of the odd secretary saying nice things about Emma to the big boss were in her favor.

  Hopefully, if some random thought distracted spacey Stephanie, she would leave before taking up too much time. With classes starting in four short weeks and lesson plans
for the semester to create, time simply wasn’t a luxury. If Emma had any illusions of getting tenure and building a life with a solid financial foundation, she had to put in the time and effort now.

  Emma glanced away from her computer and took in her full things-to-do list on the bulletin board before pasting on a smile she didn’t feel. “A rough night sleeping, that’s all. You know how it is. I’m getting used to all the house’s sounds. Listen, I wish I could talk, but I’m knee-deep in work here.”

  Stephanie put up her hand to stop all further comments and narrowed her eyes. “Stand for me.”

  “I’m in the middle of—”

  “Don’t argue. Just stand for me,” Stephanie insisted, “and move around your desk so I can see you. This is, like, really important.”

  The woman couldn’t be more than twenty-three with the intelligence of a fish. How the head of the math department had ever come to the decision Stephanie was the best candidate for the secretary position was anyone’s guess. Could the dean be a big pot smoker and Stephanie had the right connections? She was from California after all.

  Heaving an audible sigh, Emma placed both palms on her desk and rose. “Stephanie, I think I’ve mentioned before I don’t believe in the occult or anything mystic. I’m a numbers girl. I like things that are rational. Things I can prove.” Things steadfast and unshakable, unlike my own history.

  Emma sidestepped the short wood desk, nearly brushing her butt on the wall of the too-small office. She reined in the desire to be a smart-ass and curtsy to the queen who apparently could order her around. “And since when do you have to see my aura while I’m standing? I thought you could see it around my head.”

  “Oh I can. Auras are strongest around a person’s head. I’m checking some other things.” Stephanie stepped closer, her long skirt swishing around her legs. She placed her hands on her hips, causing the numerous bangles around her wrists to jingle, and studied Emma. “You’re not red today and your energy distribution is like totally off. Something happened last night.” She nodded and locks of unruly hair fell into her face. “For sure,” she said, tucking the loose curls behind her ears. “Something that made you way uncomfortable.”