Dominant Persuasions Anthology: 12 Tales of D/s, Where Mastery Meets Passion

Home > Nonfiction > Dominant Persuasions Anthology: 12 Tales of D/s, Where Mastery Meets Passion > Page 14
Dominant Persuasions Anthology: 12 Tales of D/s, Where Mastery Meets Passion Page 14

by Anthology


  Lars loosened his grip a little and she jerked away. At the sight of her shaking with rage, the image of a woman he’d known in Afghanistan flashed as plain as the day it happened. His unit had been working with some of the local resistance fighters, training and arming them to take their lands and families back. One particular young man named Karmal had attached himself to Lars and had been a quick study. The myriad of emotions crossing Marianna’s eyes and her expressions were very much like that woman when Lars and his team brought Karmal’s body back home after he’d been killed by an IED. She’d fallen to her knees and wept hysterically as she cursed and laid the blame squarely on him. Lars wanted to explain but words had failed him because a small part of him realized she’d been right. They were to blame. They’d made promises while they forged the alliance with the tribal people who worked the land his army needed to control.

  Much like then, he was rooted where he stood. He wanted to explain. There was so much he wanted to tell her, hold her, and make her understand it wasn’t at all like she believed. Despite all of the things he’d witnessed and was powerless to stop, this had to be the worst thing he’d ever seen. Hearing her tell him he’d betrayed her was unbearable because to some small extent, he knew it was true. Her anger was justified and nothing he could do or say would change it. The shock of her dismissal left him heartbroken, cold, and without words. He needed to leave and never come back.

  “Okay,” he said quietly as he walked past her and out of her life.

  14

  For the first time in two weeks, Marianna got dressed and tried to establish a semblance of a routine. The Tribune had given her a week after she’d called and told them she had an emergency and needed to be away. This last week, they’d called her off and on to check on her. Today, they wanted an estimated completion date for the series she’d been working on. She had to get off her ass and focus on something, anything but Lars. She opened her portfolio, started flipping through the notes for the series, and immediately, tears formed and threatened to spill.

  The series she planned on giving the Tribune was on the awful treatment Lars had gotten at the VA. She’d started investigating and found so many of the vets who needed help for PTSD received similar or, in some cases, worse treatment. They pushed drugs without a specific diagnosis and made them wait ungodly timeframes for any care. She’d uncovered the huge backlog and caseload with minimal staff, and the long hours of waiting these vets had to endure just to be told they needed to be rescheduled. The bureaucracy was a nightmare to navigate, and the most alarming trend she’d established was the number of suicides that happened while these men and women waited for desperately needed treatment.

  The research was done. She had the numbers; all she had to do was write the articles. She took a deep breath and flipped to another page. She froze when she saw a card staring back at her. She picked up the card with shaky hands and took a jagged breath as tears spilled down her cheeks. It was the card the receptionist had given her after they’d waited for six hours just to be told he needed to be rescheduled for next month because that was the soonest appointment available. Lars’ appointment was today. She glanced at the clock and saw it was in two hours. He’d promised her he’d get help and even promised her he would be persistent and stick to it as long as she went with him every step of the way. She even remembered he called her his battle buddy in this fight. She angrily wiped away the tears and tossed the card in the trash.

  That was then, this was now, and things had changed significantly.

  * * *

  Lars sat in his truck in a parking space at the VA hospital where he had an appointment in forty-five minutes. He remembered the appointment and the promise he’d made to Marianna to get help.

  Marie…

  As he sat there, he thought about Marianna and wondered how she was doing. He closed his eyes and swallowed an emotional lump. He’d never thought it was possible to miss someone so much. He could deal with the finality of death—that was easy. Dealing with the loss of someone he could still touch, someone so near yet so far away, was unbearable at times. It haunted him worse than any violence he’d been a part of or witnessed. He fully understood why some of his brothers in arms ended up killing themselves. No amount of alcohol, no distraction could wash away the memories of her sweet touch. To know that he’d been the cause of this lonely hell only made it worse. When he was near his Marie, he could go still and quiet. He could breathe.

  A week ago, he’d returned from Langley to clear out his apartment and move on. His debrief was mostly waiting and paperwork, but it had taken four long, painful days. He’d arrived in Tampa and didn’t tell anyone. Somehow Mac had found him and asked him to come back to the club. At first, he refused, but Mac always had a way of getting Lars to do exactly what he wanted. Deep down inside, Lars didn’t need much convincing. He did because it offered him a routine and a possible glimpse of Marianna. As long as he was alive, he would refuse to give up the slightest chance to heal this awful fracture in their relationship. At the club, he found himself avoiding the Shibari room as if death waited for him inside. The memories were so painful, even now the physical ache caused him to inhale sharply. He glanced down at his watch, thirty-five minutes until he had to check in.

  Shoving open the door, he walked with determined purpose into the building. Maybe some kind of therapy could help him heal the deep hole Marianna had left. He checked in, took a seat, and pulled out his phone to read a book he’d downloaded. He opened the app and looked around while he waited for it to load. When he glanced at the receptionist desk, he did a double take and blinked. His heart skipped a beat, and he slowly stood. He wanted to move but found he couldn’t.

  “Hey,” he murmured tentatively. He was still because the last thing in the world he wanted was to make a move that would cause her to turn and leave.

  “Hello, Lars,” Marianna said. Not daring to move, he stood, waiting. He wondered how she knew he’d be here then he remembered. She’d snatched the card out of the receptionist’s hand after a serious bitch session with the administrator and the director of psychiatry. “I’m glad you kept your word and came back.”

  “You didn’t have to come.”

  “I promised you…” she trailed off and looked away.

  “It might be a long time. You don’t have to stay. I’ll understand.”

  She shook her head and brushed past him to take a seat. As she settled in for the long wait, she took out her laptop. Lars casually took a seat next to her and said nothing. Somehow he felt it was the safest thing for him to do for now. He stared at his phone and tried to read as they sat in silence. He noticed that for a long time she seemed to stare at the screen and not move. It was the same with him. He kept reading the same page over and over, unable to concentrate on the words. This was crazy. They were obviously feeling very uncomfortable with one another.

  “Marianna, you don’t have to do this.”

  “Do you want me to leave?” she asked, looking up for the first time.

  That was the last thing he wanted, but this awkward silence was too stressful. He’d be certifiable by the time he got in to see the doctor. “We need to talk. If you’re not willing to do it after we’re done, then maybe it’s best that you go.”

  “Seems like it’s going to be a while. What do you want to talk about?” she asked quietly.

  “Right now?”

  “Do you have something better to do?”

  He considered his options. He sure as hell didn’t want to get into a shouting match in the middle of the psych ward at the local VA hospital. He let out an exasperated, defeated breath, realizing the chess mistress had him fucked no matter what he did. In her own way, she’d tied him up and laid him open. What the hell? He considered the upside. Maybe if he went bat-shit crazy in the middle of the waiting room, they’d move him to the front of the line.

  “Why did you come?”

  “I told you, I promised you I’d do this with you, and I expect you to keep
your word that you’d get help.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Do you want me to stay?” He closed his eyes and hesitated. If he said anything right now, he might not stop. There was so much he wanted to tell her, how much he’d missed her, loved her, how it was hard to breathe at times when he thought about her, and how much he needed her. Instead, he simply nodded to answer her question. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  He turned his head slightly and noticed she was focused on her keyboard. The damn Domme in her was going to have his ass one way or another. He was close, so close, to saying whatever she wanted to hear just to keep her close. It didn’t matter to him that she was pissed off. At least when she was near he could smell her and get close enough to feel her warmth.

  “Yes, I want you to stay.”

  “Then I’ll stay. What else is there to talk about?”

  “Stop fucking with me. We have to talk, and this is no place to hold that sort of discussion,” he said, a little more aggravated then he intended.

  “Do you want to talk about the way you lied to me?”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what we need to talk about,” he acknowledged without hesitating.

  “I don’t want to talk about it—” she declared calmly, taking a sip from her water bottle.

  “Then go. Don’t get my hopes up just to shut me down. I don’t need that—”

  “—right now.” she took another sip from the bottle, “You didn’t let me finish.”

  He chuckled ruefully and shook his head. “Are we talking after we leave here, or are we going our separate ways again?”

  She didn’t say anything right away. Lars felt a soft butterfly touch to the tops of his knuckles, making him jerk his head in the direction of the touch to see Marianna running her fingers over his hand. Her touch was heaven and hell at the same time. It made him remember all the times her touch eased him, working him to a frenzy while they made love, and how it would chase away his demons. Then he’d remember how much he missed it, how empty she’d left him, and how much it hurt to lose her. She finally spoke. “What happened?”

  The fresh damage to his knuckles was from a fight the night before. Lars was a dangerous fighter because he would start to throw punches and not give any indication something was amiss. Mac was the only one who could read him and guess with a fair amount of accuracy when Lars was about to strike. He and Cade had started drinking after they’d closed the club, and Cade made a crack about the Shibari room, sending Lars into a rage. Lars got in one good punch before Cade was able to wrestle him to the ground and get Lars under control. Luckily he and Cade were buddies, and Cade understood without having it laid out for him what was really under Lars’ skin. Thankfully, Cade was able to defend himself. Lars drinking and being depressed about his woman was downright unsafe for him and anyone near him.

  “Misunderstanding,” he finally said.

  Before he could repeat his earlier question, someone called his name. He and Marianna followed the medic to an office where Lars was asked a series of questions about his general health and about his PTSD. The technician took his vital signs and noted his blood pressure was high, dangerously so. They waited for the doctor to come in. While they were alone, he pressed again,

  “Marianna, what am I doing when I leave here?”

  “Based on your blood pressure, I think you need to relax.”

  “Relax! Did it ever occur to you why my blood pressure could be so high?”

  “Oh, so this is all my fault?”

  “How the hell am I supposed to relax right now?”

  “Maybe you’re right. I think the safest thing for both of us is to meet in public. Down 582 there’s a strip mall with a bunch of places to eat, meet me there.”

  * * *

  After his initial evaluation and appointments were made for his next sessions, Lars followed Marianna to the strip mall she’d suggested. He gave her a little space as he trailed her to the restaurant of her choice. The last thing in the world he wanted was food. He wanted to get this settled once and for all. He tempered his aggression. He loved this woman and wanted her in his life. She was good for him and understood him like no other woman he’d known other than his beloved grandmother. He’d been sulking over Marianna when he should’ve been fighting for her. His stride got longer and quicker. He was the one percent of the one percent, a Green Beret. Defeat didn’t have a place in his life. Fuck this bullshit. He’d listen to what she had to say then do whatever the hell it took to get her back. He watched her sexy ass sway a seductive cadence in front of him.

  You’re mine and always will be.

  15

  Lars glanced at his watch; he had almost ninety minutes before his flight to Seattle, Washington, plenty of time to kill. He was going home for the first time in eight years. He remembered passing a coffee bar on the way to the terminal, it was just after six in the morning and the terminals were already busy. His beloved grandmother Gigi had recently had a frightening health crisis. It wasn’t surprising; she was eighty-seven years old. He’d decided to go home for a week or two and visit. He found the coffee bar he’d passed and ordered. While the barista was grinding the fresh coffee beans, he looked over the USA Today headlines and there on the front page was a story that had been originally reported in the Tampa Tribune almost two months ago.

  USA Today called it a shameful scandal. The VA Hospitals were mistreating or not treating America’s heroes as they’d been promised when they’d raised their right hands to defend and protect their country. It outlined the alarming suicide rate among veterans with PTSD or life altering injuries that had just come back from the war while waiting to be treated or in several cases had been denied treatment. Senators and congressmen were calling for an investigation and America’s press was demanding answers. The investigative journalist who first broke the story was quoted as saying the fight would continue until all of the country’s military were given what they had been promised.

  “Sir, your order,”

  “Thank you,” he said taking his coffee.

  There was a newsstand next to the coffee shop, he picked up a copy of USA Today and went back to his terminal to wait.

  “Here you go, sweetheart, coffee regular, extra-large,” he said handing the coffee over her shoulder.

  She grunted and took a sip of her coffee. “Please explain to me why we’re here before the butt-crack of dawn.”

  “You can sleep on the plane.” He slid into the seat next to her and opened the paper. “Do you think there’s another Pulitzer in your future?”

  “Let me see that,” she said, sitting up. She grabbed the paper and started reading. His ring on her left hand glittered in the light. A wave of possessiveness came over him as he looked at it. He’d made it so his Marie couldn’t leave him without a fight. “Jesus! They chopped it up! I hate it when a national gossip rag picks up a story from a metro and screws it all up,”

  He plucked the paper away from her, and folded it up, “You did a good thing, Marie.” He leaned over and kissed her and grabbed his rucksack sitting next to her. “Most of us would’ve never said anything and just accepted what we were given. You’re fixing something that needed fixing in a bad way,”

  “I told you when we walked out of that place the first time, I’d be your voice.” She combed her fingers through his beard, and he turned to face her. “And you can be my avenging angel, Valkyrie.”

  He unzipped his bag. “Damn right, Mrs. Nielsen” He kissed her, then turned back and started to stuff the paper back into his rucksack.

  Marianna pulled the open pocket toward her. She reached inside and grabbed the bundle of black rope, “What the hell? You’re not planning on doing this in your grandma’s house are you?”

  Her cheeks and her neck flushed a deep pink. He leaned over and kissed her just below her ear.

  “Surprise.”

  About Bella Juarez

  Bella Juarez has a passion for writing and tells her stories with a high level of
military suspense and erotic romance. A few years ago, Bella was an IT technician with a craving for military and espionage history and would devour anything, fact or fiction, about the subject. Today, she lives on a south Texas ranch with her family and dogs.

  With stories of intrigue running through her imagination, she always dreamed of writing a novel. Finally, in 2012, she wrote and released Rapid Dominance, book 1 of the Black Ops Brotherhood Series. Since then, she has released five more novels in this series. Branching out, she’s written three erotic romance novellas all with military elements.

  Her stories blend today’s headlines into thought provoking, intricate plots interwoven with razor-sharp suspense, intrigue, and scorching, white-hot romance.

  Bella’s idea of a perfect day starts out with a run, followed by a pot of strong French roast coffee, to keep her going while she sits at her keyboard tapping away on another story.

  Also By Bella Juarez

  Black Ops Brotherhood

  Rapid Dominance – Black Ops Brotherhood 1

  Hostile Home Front – Black Ops Brotherhood 2

  Dominant Deception – Black Ops Brotherhood 3

  Tactical Error – Black Ops Brotherhood 4

  Minefield – Black Ops Brotherhood 5

  Tightrope – Black Ops Brotherhood 6

  Knights of Red Horse Trilogy – 1Night Stand

  Hanging by a Moment

  Beautiful Nightmare

  Saving Me

  Make-Believe Submissive

  A Kinky Book Club Short Story

  By Daisy Philips

  Book Description

  When the Kinky Book Club relocates to the restaurant Maggie owns, she's fascinated by the D/s lifestyle. When they offer her a chance to visit the club, she talks her fiancé Rick into going, thinking it will be fun for a night.

 

‹ Prev