A Firm Hand: 2 (Bound to You)

Fallon Blake

Book two in the Bound to You series.

After a painful past, Brian Donovan can’t afford to get close to anyone, especially a submissive. His growing lust for a certain mouthy bartender has been easy to keep under wraps, at least until he catches her snooping through his files. Spanking her senseless is not one of his better ideas. Even worse, he entices her into a relationship based on power exchange—no sappy sentiments, no messy emotional entanglements, strictly dominance and submission. He doesn’t count on Genevieve being the one submissive who makes him want to feel again.

Gen Hawthorn’s life is a mess. She’s always late for work, can’t keep a boyfriend and has a closetful of family secrets. When her gorgeous boss offers her a kinky no-strings arrangement, she can’t say no. Being dominated by the star of all her dirty fantasies sounds like what she needs. She just has to remember his most important rule—don’t fall in love.

A Romantica®
BDSM erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

Dedication

For Amy, Lisa and Jaime. Without you I’d still be writing this one. Thank you for believing in me.

Lateness was a reoccurring illness Genevieve couldn’t seem to cure herself of no matter how hard she tried. Rush-hour traffic was the bane of her existence. The fact that she lived on the beach and her place of employment was located in downtown St. Pete didn’t do her any favors. She flung open the back door to Donovan’s Pub and came face-to-face with the bar’s owner-slash-manager, Brian Donovan.

Shit.

Exactly the person she didn’t want to see when she was ten minutes late for her shift. She’d hoped to slip in unnoticed. So much for that. She tentatively stepped inside and braced for Brian’s wrath.

He made his disapproval known by crossing his arms over his chest and glowering at her in a way that made her want to shrink. The picture of intimidation, he was well over six feet and graced with a luscious muscular build even his starched dress shirt couldn’t hide. He had insanely beautiful green eyes that never seemed to miss a thing, including late employees trying to sneak in the back door. His square jawline had just a hint of stubble that defined rather than hid the sexy cleft in his chin. The man was simply too gorgeous for his own good.

“You’re late. Again.” His voice was like molasses over gravel. The smooth, deep tone caused a little shiver to snake down her spine.

“I’m sorry. Traffic was—”

“I’m not interested in your lame excuses, Ms. Hawthorn. This is the third time you’ve been late this week. I want you in my office after your shift. Understood?”

He was so damn sexy when he played Big Bad Boss. Sexy enough to make her throb in all the right places, but that didn’t change the fact that he was a dick. Never had a man turned her on and pissed her off quite the way he had. She ignored her body’s response, clenched her teeth and swallowed the caustic reply threatening to fly from her mouth. She gave him her best eat-shit smile and nodded like a good little employee.

“Good, now get to work,” he said, dismissing her as he walked away.

Asshole.
She wasn’t
that
late. She hoped he wouldn’t fire her over it. She needed this job. Hunting for a new one in this economy wouldn’t be easy. She had mounds of credit card bills, rent, car insurance, art class fees—a headache-inducing list she’d rather not have to worry about any more than necessary. Maybe he’d go easy on her and just write her up.

She pushed her way through the swinging doors and out to the bar area. The scent of old wood, brass polish and liquor made her smile. She loved this place. Donovan’s had a casual, homey atmosphere with its large horseshoe-shaped bar and scarred barstools. The rough brick walls were decorated with a blend of vintage signs, crazy neon lights and eclectic art. An antique jukebox in the corner played everything from The Beatles to The Misfits, depending on who sank the quarters. The large teak booths and high-top tables surrounding the bar were already half full with the evening crowd. She waved to a few of the regulars who were perched in their usual spots, nursing whichever liquid comfort they preferred.

She needed to get her shit together. Losing this job would hurt more than her finances. She’d never had an easy time making friends. She had a tendency to be abrasive, or so she’d been told. Not that she cared what most people thought, but those she’d grown close to here were not most people. The handful of service staff, assistant manager, Liam, and skeleton crew in the kitchen made for a motley family she’d come to think of as her own. She didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it.

She stepped behind the bar and stowed her bag under the register. “Hey, Ivy.”

Ivy peered at her through blunt-cut, chestnut bangs. “Brian’s been looking for you.”

“I know, I know. He wants to see me in his office after my shift.”

“Sounds ominous. You like winding him up, admit it.” Ivy quirked an eyebrow as she expertly poured a Madras.

“Do not. I wish he would accept that my lateness is just part of my wonderful personality. We’d get along much better that way. You want service or point tonight?”

With a flirty grin and a flash of cleavage, Ivy placed the drink in front of one of the barflies. “You sort it out. You’re the closer.”

“Tips are always better when you’re up there shakin’ your ass, so I’ll take service and let you have at it.”

Ivy’s British accent and saucy demeanor made her very popular with the patrons. Considering she and Ivy pooled their tips, she had no problem letting her work the crowd. She’d rather handle service anyway. The back-and-forth banter she shared with the servers made her shift go by faster.

“Your bum is just as nice.” She gave Gen a hip-check, emphasizing her point. “If you worked at charming these poor sods rather than pissing them off, you’d see an improvement in your tips.”

One of the regulars snorted. “She’d have to take that stick out of her ass first.”

Gen gave him the narrow-eyed stare as she pushed her glasses back into place. “Oh you’re funny. Be nice, Randy, or I’ll have Ivy short you a count on your pours.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey now, I was just teasin’.”

“I’ll let it go this time. Now be a good boy and tip your bartender.”

He tossed a couple dollars on the bar. “Yes ma’am.”

She headed over to the service station to set up for the night and was struck by the prickly sensation of being watched. She glanced up and noticed Brian standing against the wall across from the bar, staring at her. Their eyes locked. Her breath caught at the amount of raw hunger in his piercing gaze. She almost peeked over her shoulder to see if there was someone standing behind her because he couldn’t have possibly been looking at her that way. He held her captive for a few more moments before pushing off the wall and walking away.

That couldn’t be right. She had to have imagined it, or needed her prescription checked, one of the two. Gen couldn’t be further from his type. He wore perfectly pressed designer clothes and had one of those expensive, close-cropped haircuts that made his sandy-brown locks look sexed-up and slept on. Gen, on the other hand, wore discount threads and had a self-styled, Manic Panic dye job. They couldn’t be more opposite if they tried.

Ivy leaned toward her. “He fancies you.”

“Who?” Gen asked.

“You know who I’m talking about. Do you think he has a big cock?”

She gaped at her friend’s audacity. “Ivy Bristol, you have a dirty mind.”

“Can you honestly tell me you haven’t thought about sleeping with him?”

Oh yes, she’d definitely thought about it. Not that she’d ever admit it out loud. “Brian?” She snorted. “Not my type. Too cold and too quiet for me.”

“You know what they say about the quiet ones. I’d wager my best pair of knickers he’s dominant when it comes down to it.”

She would eat her studded leather wrist cuff if Brian was hiding a Dom in there somewhere. “Sex, is that all you think about?”

“What else is there? Exactly how long has it been since you’ve had a good, screaming orgasm? And I’m not referring to the kind we pour here behind the bar.”

Too long.
“A few days,” she said with a shrug.

“Did he require batteries?”

Busted.

* * * * *

Gen had dragged her feet long enough. She’d polished the bar until it gleamed, restocked the liquor and counted the register three times. All that was left was a side trip to Brian’s office and she was done for the night. Well, after she went and checked on her mom, an almost nightly ritual she’d come to dread. After that she could go home and relax.

The soles of her boots squeaked on the rubber mat as she walked through the swinging doors and into the kitchen. Why did she feel like a bad schoolgirl on her way to the principal’s office? It was only Brian after all.

She lightly rapped her knuckles on the door. “Hello?”

“Wait in my office. I’ll be with you in a minute,” Brian yelled from the storage room.

She breathed a sigh of relief. His tone and inflection didn’t suggest anger, which was good. The level of tension always seemed ramped up when they were in the same room—tension likely fueled by her secret fantasies and his apparent dislike of her.

She entered the small polished space he called an office and waited. A manila folder with her name on it sat closed on the large mahogany desk. Hmm. What exactly was in her employee file? Hopefully not a pink slip. She glanced back at the door, then again at the file. Maybe she had time for a little peek. She shouldn’t, but what the hell? What Brian didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Bending over the desk, she spun the file around, opened it and began reading.

Brian stepped into the doorway of his office and was greeted by the loveliest thing he’d had the pleasure of seeing all day. Genevieve was bent over his desk with her backside to him. The curve of her ass peeked out from below the hem of her black shorts. Her tan legs were perfect lines of lean muscle. The boots she always wore—laced up to her knees with clunky platform heels—about killed him on a nightly basis. A worn, formfitting t-shirt completed her standard work attire. She showed just enough skin to make him a bit crazy, but never seemed as though she intended to dress provocatively. On purpose or not, she never failed to provoke certain parts of his anatomy.

Admittedly, she wasn’t his usual type. Christ, her choppy shoulder-length hair was pale pink. The color made her geeky black-framed glasses stand out in drastic contrast. On anyone else he’d have thought the look ridiculous. Genevieve made it so sexy it hurt to look at her.

He’d watched this tiny ball of fire strut around his bar with a huge chip on her shoulder for six months now. Keeping his growing need for her under wraps had been difficult, but not impossible, at least until now. He had a hard-on he could bust bottles with. His ironclad control was at the breaking point. The fact that she was snooping through his files made it easier for him to rationalize what he was about to do.

Damn it.

He hadn’t wanted to cross this line with her. She was an employee and he’d always practiced a hands-off policy where they were concerned. But the delicious little display before him was far too tempting.

He reared back and slapped her right ass cheek.
Hard.
It was every bit as firm as he’d imagined.

She yelped and promptly dumped the contents of the file on the floor in front of the desk, paper scattering everywhere. She turned toward him, face flushed, mouth gaping in shock. But a spark of heat simmered in those beautiful rum-brown eyes of hers. There was more to his little rebel than sarcasm and tardiness.

They stood, staring at one another for a heated moment. The tension was so thick it was difficult to breathe.

“What the hell, Brian?”

“I told you to wait in my office. I don’t remember giving you permission to look through my files.”

“I— I…fuck. It’s just my file. I wasn’t looking at anything else.” Her voice, although shaky, held the slightest edge of annoyance.

He wasn’t sure she was aware of it, but she’d pressed a hand over the spot where he’d spanked her, kneading it through her shorts. He hit her hard enough to make his palm tingle. He bet her ass felt the same stinging heat, one that was about to get worse.

“No. It’s
my
file, which you so graciously dumped all over
my
floor. Now get down on your hands and knees and clean it up.” The command in his voice felt good.

“What?” She looked at him as if he were psychotic.

“On your hands and knees and clean it up,” he barked.

Her mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed. He was all too familiar with that fuck-you look. She wore it often. “I don’t know who the—”

“It’s not a request. Do it.
Now.
” He raised his voice, drowning her out.

The poison in her glare would have killed him if things like that were possible. He could almost hear her cursing him in her head as she lowered herself to the ground and snatched up the papers one by one. The sight of her crawling around on the floor, pink hair in her face and glasses sliding down her nose, made his cock twitch. He was in trouble, deep, deep trouble. With each piece she retrieved, her movements slowed. She was almost catlike by the time she stretched across the floor to reach the last sheet in the corner. The little tease.

She sat back on her heels, in a nearly perfect submissive pose, and straightened the small stack. When she finished, she looked up at him from her position at his feet and handed him the contents of the file. The smile she wore as she pushed her glasses back into place was so full of mischief he had to bite back a groan. He was going to have his hands full with this one.

He set the file down on the desk. “On your feet.”

She sighed as she stood.

“I should fire you.”

A flash of pure panic registered on her face before she hid it beneath a mask of indifference.

“But I think I have something better in mind.”

“And what would that be?”

He crowded into her space until they were inches apart. She took a step backward, bumping into the desk. Leaning in, he put both hands on the desktop alongside her hips. He had her right where he wanted her, trapped like prey. His intentions were devious and wrong, on more than one level. But at the moment he didn’t care. He wanted her and he would have her any way he could get her.