by Jan Irving
Table of Contents
Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgement
Epigraph
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
A Totally Bound Publication
The Shy Dominant
ISBN # 978-1-78184-976-7
©Copyright Jan Irving 2014
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright February 2014
Edited by Stacey Birkel
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2014 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 2.
This story contains 98 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 9 pages.
Men of Station 57
THE SHY DOMINANT
Jan Irving
Book two in the Men of Station 57 series
Shy Battalion Chief Fred James sets out to use everything he ever learned about controlling fire to pleasure Dharma Munroe and tame her to his hand alone.
Fred James is the dedicated battalion chief of Station 57 and a caring single father whose wife abandoned him and his children. Thinking he’s too old for free-spirited Dharma Munroe, Fred hides in the shadows until the night he finds her working at a topless bar.
Turns out navigating a relationship with an independent woman isn’t easy. He’s clueless trying to figure out what she wants and how to give it to her—but he’s determined to figure it out. Shy or not, he sets out to use everything he ever learned about controlling fire to pleasure his woman and tame her to his hand alone.
Dedication
To following your own dharma, wherever it takes you.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Laura Ashley: Laura Ashley plc
Etsy: Etsy, Inc.
A gentleman is merely a patient wolf.
—Lana Turner
Prologue
Dharma Munroe bent close to Fred James, smiling the same smile she greeted him with every morning at Coffee Dreams, the San Diego coffee shop where she worked for her best friend Sian as a barista. But this wasn’t the coffee house and she sure as fuck wasn’t wearing the green T-shirt with the shop logo she sported there.
Instead she was dressed in a hot pink thong.
And nothing else.
Fred couldn’t keep from staring at Dharma’s bare breasts. They were generous and lush, the nipples large and dark. Not the nipples of a twiggy little girl but an earth mother.
He swallowed then jerked his gaze up to meet her slanted brown eyes, colour heating his cheeks. He shoved a hand through his hair, the mirror opposite at the bar catching the silver streaks in the dark blond.
As if he needed a reminder that he was in his mid-forties and this girl—and he could use the word very deliberately since Dharma was in her early twenties—was half his age.
And he lusted for her.
“What can I get you, Fred?” she asked in her usual chipper tone.
“Jesus, Dharma,” he growled.
“Sorry?” She blinked, as if she couldn’t figure out what his problem was.
Just then Fred caught a man at the bar eyeing Dharma’s shapely body, the olive toned skin she’d inherited from her Italian mother and the long, long killer legs. Rage burned through him like brush fire.
He got up from his chair and took Dharma’s arm firmly but with his usual gentle care with women.
“Fred!” She dragged her feet in her high scarlet heels, but he led her inexorably to the exit at the back. He hit the door and they were suddenly facing a red sun sinking like an island beyond the deserted beach.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, young lady?” Fred demanded as soon as the door slammed shut behind them.
Dharma blinked then pushed some of her long brown hair out of her eyes. “Working.”
“Working,” Fred repeated flatly. “Is that what you call it, walking around in your underwear?”
Dharma looked down at her body and shrugged. “Well, one piece anyway.”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
Her eyes heated. “Yeah, I saw that.”
He blushed again, hoping she hadn’t guessed his first reaction at seeing her beautiful naked breasts. He’d wanted to reach out and cup them, since she seemed to be offering them to any man who sat down in the seedy bar.
“Fred, will you relax?” she said, punching his shoulder in a friendly manner. He couldn’t help but notice how the movement made her breasts jiggle. It was going to be interesting to see just how far his control would hold while he talked to the woman who’d intrigued him for months while she stood there half naked.
“Does Sian know you work here?” he demanded. He wanted to take off his T-shirt and cover her up. She looked so untouched and lovely, like a long-legged Venus.
“What?” She laughed. “Why would she care?”
His jaw tightened on the words he wanted to shout at Dharma. But he wasn’t as reckless as he’d once been, chasing fire. He’d been leading his people for a long time as a battalion chief. He’d learned to control his temper. “She would care because she’s your friend,” he said. “Surely she wouldn’t approve of you working in this place?”
Now her brown eyes snapped at him. “It’s not her business to ‘approve’ of what I do. Or yours.”
“Of course it’s not.”
She looked surprised at his easily capitulation.
“But that doesn’t mean anyone who cares about you and respects you, wouldn’t worry about you displaying yourself for men.”
“I serve drinks, same as I do at the coffee shop,” she said flatly. “But the tips here go a long way on my student loan. If men—or women—want to look at what the goddess gave me then let them look. It’s. No. Big. Deal.”
He looked away, studying some gulls hovering over the water. “It’s a big deal to me.” The words were out before he could hold them back. Forbidden words. Words he’d promised he’d never say to her.
He rubbed his forehead, inhaling deeply and wishing for some kind of anchor to help him draw in his feelings. Feelings like how part of him was getting off on Dharma displaying herself—as long as o
ther men clearly knew she was his.
I’m losing my mind. Why do I always want to put my stamp on this girl, like a tattoo? As if she’d want me, a shy, awkward man who is way too old for her.
She nodded towards his wedding ring, the gold catching the falling rays of sun. “I don’t fool around with married men.”
“Of course not!” he growled. “I know you’re not that kind of person.”
“And neither are you, Fred.”
“I’m not married, not really.” He didn’t want to explain to her that he wore the ring mainly to keep from being hit on. A lot of divorced women in his daughter’s dance club saw him as a good candidate for husband number two or three. “But purely as your friend—”
She raised an eyebrow and he nearly laughed. No bullshit with Dharma. “You are not feeling friendly towards me, Fred. You want me.”
He sucked in a breath. “Yes. Yes, damn it. But what if someone in there wouldn’t listen if you said no? What if he got a little too friendly?”
“We have three kick-ass bouncers.”
He wanted to shake her, but if he put his hands on her, he wasn’t sure he would be able to let her go. He’d been avoiding the coffee house where she worked lately, knowing that his feelings for her had slipped into something inappropriate. “What if someone followed you home?”
She opened her mouth. Shut it.
He nodded grimly. “It could happen, Dharma.”
“I have pepper spray and I’ve taken self-defence classes.”
“What kind of self-defence?”
“Well, um, tai chi.”
“Tai chi.”
“Hey, it originally was a form of self-defence. If you speed it up—”
“Christ. Any man who goes in that bar is going to assume there is more on the menu than you serving drinks with your pretty tits on display. You need a protector.”
“A protector? That’s so retro, Fred.” She poked him. “Look, I know you don’t get it, but this”—she waved a hand over herself—“is just a body. I enjoy it, I like how it makes me feel, but I’m not hung up over it. Why shouldn’t I use it to help me pay off my mountain of loans?”
“Honey, I can find you work.” Another forbidden fantasy flashed through his mind, of Dharma waiting for him at home, wearing only the thong. The first thing he’d do after he made a joke of inspecting her house cleaning—because he knew from visiting her apartment she was not tidy—would be to spread her over his big kitchen island and have her.
He might or might not allow her to come. He broke out in a sweat, imagining her begging him to allow her release.
And, oh, God, why was he thinking these things? But ever since he’d met this free-spirited girl, he’d wanted to possess her. Completely.
“I have a job, thanks. And don’t call me honey.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not your daughter.”
Damn. Stacy was a teenager now. As if he needed another reminder of how he was too old for Dharma.
“I’d die before I let Stace work in a place like this.”
Dharma went white then red and he knew he’d gone too far.
He’d hurt her.
“Because I love her.” His voice cracked. “Dharma, you’re my friend. You have no idea how much I look forward to going into Coffee Dreams and hearing about your latest craziness, like the time you decided you’d green the roof of your apartment.”
A reluctant smile touched her lips. “Hey, there were already weeds up there. I figured some flowers and herbs wouldn’t hurt.”
His lips twitched because he’d come over to her place with a few of the guys from the station house and helped repair the hole that she’d inadvertently made in her ceiling. “It was an earth-friendly idea, just not very practical.”
She laughed and for a moment, despite her very distracting appearance, that familiar warmth zinged between them.
Friends.
He shoved a hand through his hair, wishing he was as smooth as Taz, the lady killer in the fire hall. It was whispered Taz knew all about how to make a woman do what a man wanted. “Dharma, you have no idea what a life saver you’ve been for me. Being able to talk to you…” He shook his head.
“You never talk about your wife. Your girls, but never…” She stopped, chewing her lip. “I’m sorry. Way out of line.”
“My wife is in Arizona,” he told her. “I think. She left me three years ago.”
“She left you three years ago?” Dharma stared at him in shock. “She’s an idiot.”
He flushed. “Thank you.”
“I mean… Oh, Goddess, I’m sorry!” Now her youth showed itself in her awkwardness. She was embarrassed for him, angry at his wife.
“Don’t. I like your honesty.”
“Look, can I…?” She huffed. “I’m going to take my break.”
If he had anything to say about it, it would be permanent. “Fine.” He watched as she opened the door and shouted something to one of the bouncers. The big man nodded, giving Fred a ferocious scowl so he’d know to behave himself.
“Give it over,” Dharma said as soon as the door closed.
“Excuse me?”
“Your T-shirt. I’m going to put it on so we can have a serious talk.”
He had it skinned off in a second but stopped at the way she was staring at him. She was looking at him the way he’d looked at her bare breasts, at the tattoos that decorated both of his hard pecs and his shoulders and upper arms.
“Are those…Japanese?” Her voice was hushed, as if seeing him without his T-shirt was an intimate act.
In a way it was. Fred was abashed about showing his body to anyone. He usually kept it covered. “Yeah. I was in the Navy. Got them on shore leave a long time ago.”
“A koi in a lotus pond.” She reached out and grazed a hand down his chest and he couldn’t keep from shivering. He wanted her to touch him. Ached for it.
Instead, he took her hand, steering it safely away. For her, touching him was probably no big deal, but it made him want to push her to her knees. He had no idea what he’d do then, except he wanted to look at her that way, to filter her silky hair through his hands as she knelt for him.
Being bold Dharma, she made no secret of studying him. He cleared his throat as he watched her put on the clothing still warm from his body. It gave him an aching feeling of possessiveness that she was wearing his T-shirt.
“White cotton. So you,” she said.
“Boring, you mean.”
“There’s nothing boring about you.” She laughed again when he gave her a disbelieving look. “You’re as hot as Brad Pitt. Too bad you didn’t pose in the nude.”
“What?” He couldn’t follow her logic, if there was any.
“In the infamous calendar you guys did for charity,” she said. “You’re my favourite model but you left your swimming trunks and T-shirt on. Damn, that was a let-down.”
“Ah…yes.” He found himself combing fingers restlessly through his hair again. She made him so goddamned nervous.
She grinned, as if she liked his awkwardness.
“All right, we can talk now.” She folded her arms which only served to plump up her breasts under the thin covering.
“Sure.”
She laughed. “Hey, I can’t help having the body of a goddess.”
“You’re a vixen.”
“A vixen?” She looked intrigued. “I think I like that. Kind of old-fashioned, but that’s okay. You’re an old-fashioned guy. Better than calling me a slut.”
“You’re not a slut!” His hand shot out, gripping her wrist.
Her eyes widened. “No, but some men think—”
“I don’t give a goddamn. You’re unusual, free spirited…but a lady.”
Her eyes grew misty. “Oh, Fred… I wish I didn’t like you so much. I can’t stop thinking about you. You know that, don’t you?”
He wished he didn’t like her as much as he did either. How many nights had he dreamed of her, tangled in sweaty sheets with no hope of
ever touching her?
“Dharma, what are you really doing here? Is the money worth it?” He held her gaze. When she didn’t look away, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and pushing an errant strand of her glossy brown hair out of her eyes.
“Tell me why you’re here and maybe I’ll think about it.”
“Taz and some of the guys are meeting up here.” He raised a hand before she could bring up the obvious double standard. “It wasn’t my idea to come here. I didn’t even know it was a strip club.” He blushed and she smiled.
“Okay,” she said. “Yeah, I believe that. Everyone knows Taz is a pig, but this place is definitely not your style.” She leaned closer, her fresh citrus scent suiting the sea air and not the stale beer smell inside the bar. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“I have a secret?” he repeated. He was barely able to keep his mind on her words. He was just as bad as the other men who’d been hot for her inside the bar.
A smile curved her generous lips. “Yep. You’re shy.”
“I’m not—” Oh, Jesus, if she only knew.
“Oh yeah, you are. It’s so sexy.” She sighed. “I wish…”
But Fred had stopped wishing years ago. He had two girls to raise and a job that took all the rest of his time. There was no room for anything more and he was too old for a second chance. Especially with this fiery, younger woman.
“You’ll quit working here?”
She cocked her head. “I have two weeks off coming so I’ll think about it. You mentioned a job?”
He laughed at her bold go-get-‘em attitude. Damn, she could always make him smile. “I was thinking of a part time receptionist job in the municipal hall. Since they’re just next door to the fire hall, they lend us administrative support occasionally, so I know they’re looking for someone.”
“I can type, but I’ve never done that kind of work,” she said frankly.
“It’s not hard to learn and Mrs Anderson could help you pick up what you don’t know. She wants more time to travel and spend with her grandchildren, so she is cutting back her hours. I…we really need someone to pick up the slack.”
