Destined for the Dom (Masters of Submission, #2)(7)

Zo? took a step backward, away from Hunter. She didn’t want to see the look of pity mixed with anger in his eyes. He made her feel like a gullible idiot. A poor, defenseless woman who needed his help to put her life in order.

Desperate to explain, she blurted out, “Look, it’s not what you think. When Mike and I first met, he was a really lovely guy. He had a job and paid his way. It was only after he became unemployed that he started drinking heavily. Shortly after that, he became dependent on cocaine and heroin, too.”

“So how much do you owe?”

“None of your business. I wish I hadn’t allowed you to bring me home.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Zo? shrugged. “Because you make me feel like I need protecting from myself.”

“You do.”

“Maybe.” Zo? looked around her apartment, perhaps seeing it properly for the first time. No warmth or well-being permeated its walls or furnishings. It felt exactly like St. Mark’s, her home for ten years as a child.

A deep sadness washed over her. “We didn’t have a proper childhood, did we, Hunter? I don’t know how a normal family functions. What is a proper home supposed to look like? Is it supposed to look like the pictures in a glossy magazine? I’ve no idea. Just like I’ve no idea how a real family celebrates Christmas. They didn’t teach us that at the care home, did they?”

“No, they just looked after the basics. There was no love or compassion. Just rules and regulations.” Hunter moved across to her. He held out his arms, and she melted into his embrace. He felt wonderful as his strong arms wrapped around her and held her close. He was so tall, and broad, too, she could barely wrap her arms around him. Her cheek nestled against his impressive chest, and she breathed in his wonderful masculine aroma—a combination of aftershave and Alpha male pheromones.

“I guess St. Mark’s didn’t prepare us for adulthood, Peaches. We were institutionalized from an early age. When I left, I was completely on my own, and totally lost in the real world. That’s why I joined the Marines.” He tenderly kissed her forehead. “Yet another institution for lost souls.”

He cupped her chin and angled her face to his. His blue eyes seemed to search her soul, checking it for vulnerability. Did he know how lost and lonely she felt? He smiled and focused on her lips before kissing her. A light caress full of promise, but equally full of reserve. She knew he wanted to deepen the kiss, by the long, slow breath he released. Instead, he pulled away and drifted his fingers through her short hair. “This hairstyle makes you look real cute.”

“Thanks, I thought it made me look younger, and I need all the help I can get at the club.”

“Yeah, I guess the work slows down as you get older.”

“Guys like young flesh. It’s been a fact of life since the dawn of time.”

“So what will you do, when the work finally dries up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Listen, Peaches, I’ve an idea. Why don’t you give up your job, and fly back to Boston with me?” When she opened her mouth to protest, he put a finger to her lips. “No, hear me out first will you? I’ve done pretty well financially. I have my own house, with several spare bedrooms. As an Air Marshal, I’m away from home much of the time. I’d like you to move in with me, and start a life away from all this. Away from Les Belles.”

Had Hunter asked her to live with him? It sounded too good to be true. “And what would you expect in return?”

“Nothing. My sexual preferences are probably not the same as yours.”

A sudden thought occurred to her. “Are you gay? Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay. That’s if you are.” She swallowed hard as her voice faded away entirely. Hunter gay? All those lovely muscles wasted on a man who wasn’t attracted to women. It didn’t bear thinking about.

It was a relief when Hunter roared with laughter. “Gay? Far from it. I just like my sex a little hotter than most.”

“How hot? Not that we’d be f*ck buddies.”

“Very hot. I practice a D/s lifestyle back in Boston. As you’ve probably already noticed, I enjoy being in charge, and oh, yeah, what you’re thinking is right. I like my women to be submissive.”

The thought of a beautiful, sexy man like Hunter Black administering a little punishment to her bare ass turned her on. Although, she knew things could easily go wrong with that type of lifestyle. “Oh, I know all about BDSM. Mike was into that, and look what happened.” She showed him her wrists. With the bracelets removed, the unsightly bruises were clear to see.


He held her hands tenderly in his, and smoothed his thumbs over the damaged skin. She saw anger in his eyes. “This ex-boyfriend of yours is a complete jerk. I’d kick the crap out of him if he were here now. This shouldn’t happen if you know what you’re doing.”

“And I suppose you do?”

“Too right I do. The club I belong to wouldn’t allow that to happen. At Club Submission, behavior like that is not tolerated. It’s called abuse.”

“Club Submission?” It sounded intriguing. “So what goes on there?”

“Anything and everything, so long as it’s between consensual adults. It’s not a place for the fainthearted or the easily offended. I’m a good friend of the owners, Matthew and Ethan. I’m sure they’d find you a job, that’s if you wanted one.”