A Dominant Man
Authors: Lena Black
Lena Black
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Editing: Lena Black & Joshua Minette
Cover design: Lena Black
Cover image: © Lena Black
ISBN-13: 978-1494811099
ISBN-10: 149481109X
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2
My Mr. Hunt, Joshua,
Thank you for your endless support, brilliant input, and patience with my ‘other boyfriend’. You dominate my mind, body, and soul.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
OWLEDGMENTS
Danielle and Christine at Books and Beyond Fifty Shades,
Thank you for helping me get my book out there and being so supportive. I love you guys!
The readers,
Thank you for taking a chance on my little book, I am truly grateful.
Lana
Del Rey,
Thank you for being my muse and keeping the writer’s block at bay on those long nights.
The other wonderful musicians featured
, Thank you for the superb tunes and creative motivation.
Last but certainly not least, The Master, E.L. James.
Thank you from the depths of my heart for giving the world a story we could really sink our teeth into. I worship at your feet.
PREY
H
e’s consuming me, taking me over. I can feel him in me, on me, around me. He is a dominating figure, a dark shadow taking control of my senses. I’m drowning in my overwhelming desire for him. His desire for me is frightening, but I want it, need it, and cannot live without it. My body craves his expert touch, healing my shattered soul with every stroke. The world around us is black. There is only us and the passion that burns.
“Where are you? Why aren’t you here?” I ask, panicking.
“I’m trying to get to you as fast as I can,” he replies in a distant voice.
I wake with a jolt, my eyes springing open.
Not again! Why can’t I ever see his face?
I want to go to sleep,
so I can get back to my dream man. The same man I’ve been dreaming about for years. Stinging tears pool in the corners of my eyes until they pour out, streaming across my flush face into my hair, soaking it. It always feels as if I’ve lost him. My heart actually aches for a man who doesn’t even exist. I take a few abysmal breaths, trying to steady my emotions and heart rate.
It’s dark out now. I feel more exhausted
now than when I laid down to take my nap this afternoon. I wanted to rest up for my night out with the girls, but unsurprisingly, I’m emotionally drained after dreaming of him.
“Oh, shit!”
I sit up as if my top half is on a spring. I’ve overslept, and now I’m running late, I should be leaving. I leap out of bed and run to the shower to rinse the dream away. As I stand under the hot, cleansing water, I realize that I’ve had this dream a million times, but this is the first he’s answered me. His words wash over me, lingering in my mind. After my shower, I feel the anxiety leave me, and I manage to store him in the back of my mind.
C
louds hang heavily in the evening sky, pregnant with rain, threatening to ruin my much-needed night out. We’re supposed to be meeting up at this hip new restaurant Julie, my best girl, managed to get us into, probably because she is currently rattling the owner’s bones, and then we’re off to the newest, hottest clubs in town.
I’m skipping around my apartment, trying to finish getting ready, when my cell rings. I cannot help but jump, since I’m already on edge. I pick up to hear
Julie’s annoyed voice on the other end.
“Where are you, Gabrielle?”
“Hey to you, too. I’m still at home.”
“Please, hurry,”
Julie pleads, “We’re starving!”
“I know, I know. I promise I’m on my way.”
“Pinkie?”
I grin and roll my eyes. “Pinkie,” I reply.
“Ok. See you soon. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I hang up the call, grab my silver clutch, and toss the cell inside. I snatch my coat and take one last glance in the mirror by the front door. I am wearing an electric blue strapless mini, which really set off my ultramarine eyes and fits like a glove, accentuating my best assets. My honey blonde hair flows down in long, loose waves, draping around my full breasts, framing them. Adorning my freshly polished feet are silver metallic fuck me pumps. At five-foot-six, they easily make me six-feet. They aren’t the smartest choice for the balance impaired, but I love them.
“Eh, it’ll do.” I shrug unenthusiastically, and I’m out the door.
I
walk out of the elevator, across the exquisite, opulent lobby, and out through the open front door, which Ben, the door attendant, is holding for me.
“Good evening, Miss Hyde. Can I hail you a cab?” He tips his hat to me, and I return a smile.
“No. Thank you, Ben.”
The second I walk out, the crisp, nippy San Francisco air begins to chill me, typical for January. If it weren’t for my wool, calf-length coat, I would seriously reconsider the dress.
I walk to the edge of the curb as a taxi drives up to let out a passenger. I slide in and give the driver the address. I take my ear buds out of my clutch, stick them in my ear, and turn on Daughter’s ‘Touch’. The female vocalist’s melodic voice echoes and chants in my ear, relaxing me. The lyrics remind me of
him
.
I lean back into my seat, watching the blurred nightlife swiftly pass by me.
It’s Saturday, and I’m ready to unwind from my long, hectic workweek. The magazine I work for is in the midst of an acquisition with Hunt Industries Inc., and it’s taking its toll on everyone. The contracts are drawn-up, and they’ll be signed Monday at our meeting with the CEO, Mr. Hunt. He’s the self-made mega mogul purchasing the thriving internet magazine.
The cab driver stirs my thoughts when he announces our arrival and my fare. I pop out my headphones and hand him some cash.
“Thanks. Keep the change,” I reply.
I jump
out and quickly dip into the restaurant, trying to escape the rain, which started pouring as we arrive. There’s a cute brunette hostess standing behind the desk, and I tell her who I’m looking for.
“Ah, yes. The
Reynolds party. Right this way, miss,” she says with a giant fake grin a moment after checking her name list.
She guides me through the large crowd to
our table, and I hear my friends before I locate them. A unison cry rings out above the noise.
“ELLIE!”
“Hey!” I shout back.
“Glad to see you’re finally here,”
Sloan comments.
She’s a terrific friend I met through
Jules a few years back. She has bright Kool-Aid red locks, gentle amber doe eyes, and flawless alabaster skin.
“You look fab as always,” I commend her.
“Ditto. Love the dress.”
“Hey! What about me?”
Julie whines, stunning smile plastered on her gorgeous face.
“You know you look hot,” Replies
Sloan.
She’s right.
Julie is hot. She has always been the desire of men and women alike. She’s tall and slender with shoulder length, midnight black hair, hyacinth hued eyes like Elizabeth Taylor, and a body to die for.
“I hope you don’t mind, but we ordered you a drink and an appetizer for the table,” she informs me.
“Great. Thanks, Jules,” I reply, returning her face-splitting grin.
“How’s work
?” she asks, knowing I wouldn’t want to talk about it.
“Not worth bringing u
p. Let’s forget this whole week and have a fantastic time.”
That being said
, the drinks arrive and the thoughts of the past week leave.
D
inner was unreal, and on the house, thanks to Julie’s beau. Knowing her has its benefits, but the best is having someone as fabulous as her around. She’s truly been an incredible friend the past thirteen years, ever since the day we met at the age of twelve.
“What are you looking at?”
She glares curiously at me, with a crooked smirk.
“I’m looking at one of the best people I know.”
She gives me a shy smile, which shows her insecurity, even if I am the only one who sees it.
“What do you say we get the hell outta here and go dancing?”
Sloan suggests as she does a little shimmy in her seat, and Julie claps her hands, excited about the night ahead.
We collect our things, stroll out to the busy street, hailing a taxi, and head to The Castro, which has the best clubs and bars in the city.
W
e dance the night away, hopping from one nightclub to the next, deciding to end the night at this exceedingly swanky place called Prey. I think it an odd name, but it certainly catches the eye.
It’s modern, with white couches and black accent pillows. Hanging from the high ceilings are globe lanterns flashing dazzling bursts of color, saturating the couches in different hues. There’s also an old school vibe from the dark wood of the bars and tab
les encircling the sunken dance floor filled with dancing patrons in the center of the large space. The two bars sit across from one another on either side. Great dance music fills the crowded space, energizing the atmosphere. This place is truly exceptional.
“This joint is hot,”
Sloan remarks, dancing in place while her bright eyes scan the energetic atmosphere.
“I couldn’t agree more,” I reply, awestruck.
We walk through the place, trying to find a suitable location to settle in and grab a drink, managing to snag a booth in the back. All the better to watch the action unfold.
“I don’t know about you guys,”
Julie says, “But I want to shake my ass off some more.”
She seems to have extra energy to burn.
“I guess I’ll join you,” I say, staring at Sloan in search of her response to my unasked question.
“I’m good right here, thank you.”
Julie and I meander our way through the sizeable mob to the dance floor. The music is bumping, Britney Spears’ ‘Up and Down’, blasting from the speakers. It’s earsplittingly loud and vibrates through me. I feel the stress and pent-up sexual energy melting away as I bump and sway to the beat.
God, I miss sex.
I miss more than sex. I miss having a man in my life. It’s been a year and a half, since my last relationship and sexual encounter, but I don’t want to screw a random guy I hardly know. I left that part of my life behind a long time ago, and I have no intentions of going back.
My life hasn’t always been together, thanks to low self-worth and an extremely dark, broken past. I had been through horrific shit in my teen years and began acting ou
t due to it. It wasn’t only sex, but all the usual rebellious crap kids do. I worked hard to claw my way out of the hole I was in, with support from my parents, friends, and therapist.
My thoughts stir as I sense an electric charge in the air, in my tingling cleft. The hairs on the back of my neck stand
on end. I scan the room, attempting to locate what might be giving me these feelings, but I don’t see anything. Suddenly, the dancing crowd parts, and I find the source. Our eyes lock.
He couldn’t be older than thirty. His bright, deep-set eyes are intense, framed by thick, arched, manicured eyebrows, and a strong brow bone. They’re penetrating mine, staring at me in a way that makes me feel naked.
The corner of his full lips curve up in a sexy, lopsided grin, with a menacing undertone. His hair’s a medium hue with a bit of length, just enough to grip and pull on while he pounds you senseless.
MMM…I bet he looks fantastic with just fucked hair.
Hello, random guy.
He’s tall and lean, except for his broad, carved shoulders and chest, which are just begging to be touched. He has a refined nose, high cheekbones, and hollow cheeks
, with a strong, square jaw and chin gently blanketed in sexy stubble. He has the well-defined features of a male model.
He’s dressed to kill
in a black dress shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, and dark, loose jeans that hang perfectly off his hips. He is pure sexual energy, a dominating force, charging me and the air around him. He’s an Adonis.
“What are you staring at?”
Julie bellows over the noise.
She’s gawking at me in confusion, with her hands giving me a what-the-hell gesture. I nod in the direction of Mr. Sex God.
“Holy shit,” she yelps, “He’s gorgeous!”
Her eyes give away her attraction to him.
When I glance back to him, he’s gone. If it weren’t for Julie’s humongous grin and flexing brow, I would think he was a figment of my imagination. He’s far too beautiful to be real.
Julie
taps me on the arm, and when I glimpse back at her, she’s getting down, inviting me to join. I return to dancing, with flashing images of him in my mind. He made me feel sexual and beautiful, never having to say a word, it’s in his ardent gaze.
I cannot see him, but I can sense him watching me from a dark corner somewhere, attentively. I bust out my ‘sexy’ moves, feeling the
music and his desire, I let go and dance my ass off. The DJ is mixing a great block of Britney, so it’s not hard to get lost in the music.
When a slower number of Ms. Spears comes on, we make our way back to the table, and a firm hand grips my forearm. I spin quickly to see the god-like creature standing before me, boring his hypnotic eyes into mine. He leads me back onto the dance floor, not saying a word, never taking those mesmerizing eyes off mine.
He stops us in the center, and next thing I know, he’s got me in his muscular arms, holding me close. We slowly sway to the music, grinding up against each other.
The way this mysterious stranger’s body moves, feels aga
inst mine is consuming and irresistible. I really start to move with him, placing a leg between his, our thighs mill against one another, sending a shocking ripple through me. He places an arm around the small of my back while his other hand glides along my neck, spine, and plump ass. I want more.
He gapes into my eyes as if he were trying to crawl deep inside of me, to a secluded place far down in the depths of my very soul. I know he can fuck by the way his hips sway, pushing them hard into mine. I could cum right now.