Destined for the Dom [Masters of Submission 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

Masters of Submission 2

Destined for the Dom

Erotic dancer Zoë Leighton is overjoyed when Hunter Black re-enters her life. Fourteen years ago he’d made her a promise he didn’t keep, but now he’s back to make amends. Down on her luck and facing eviction from her apartment, she reluctantly accepts his help.

Hunter introduces Zoë to Club Submission and the D/s lifestyle he now enjoys. Using the skills of the dominant, he brings stability and control to her otherwise chaotic life, and she soon falls head over heels in love with the powerful Master.

Ten years as a marine has left Hunter cold and detached. He’s seen enough death and destruction to last him a lifetime. Keeping aloof protects him from losing the people he loves the most. Those three little words—
I love you
—will never pass his lips.

Will Zoë’s sweet submission melt the ice that surrounds his heart? Is she truly destined for the Dom?

Genre:
BDSM, Contemporary
Length:
33,841 words
 

Masters of Submission 2

Jan Bowles

EVERLASTING CLASSIC

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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IMPRINT: Everlasting Classic

DESTINED FOR THE DOM

Copyright © 2012 by Jan Bowles

E-book ISBN:
978-1-61926-837-1

First E-book Publication: June 2012

Cover design by Les Byerley

All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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Destined for the Dom
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DESTINED FOR THE DOM

Masters of Submission 2

JAN BOWLES

Copyright © 2012

Dressed as Genghis Khan, Hunter Black scanned the large room. The New Year masquerade party was going down a blast. Club Submission was packed to overflowing with party revelers. They all wore fancy dress costumes, most of which revealed plenty of flesh, leaving very little to the imagination. He smiled knowingly, but then what did he expect. Submission was a BDSM club, and just about anything and everything went down here. Yeah, every sexual fantasy a man or woman desired could be enjoyed right here at Club Submission. As a Dom, he felt right at home.

Quite early on in life he’d discovered his predisposition for the D/s lifestyle. He needed the buzz of a woman’s submission as much as the air that he breathed.

The clock struck twelve, and a huge cheer went up. “Happy New Year, everyone,” shouted the tall well-built guy fondling his sub’s naked breast.

As the club erupted into a slightly out-of-tune rendition of “Auld Lang Syne,” he moved across to the bar and pulled out a stool. “Hey, Todd, give me a bourbon will you. A large one to see the New Year in, and have one yourself, buddy.”

“Thanks, Hunter.” Todd filled two shot glasses, and slid one across the bar. “So where’s Trudy?”

Hunter raised the glass. “Me and Trudy split.”

“That’s too bad. I thought you two were getting serious?”

Hunter lazily swirled the golden liquor around his glass. Settling down was the last thing on his mind. He’d seen too much destruction in the world. “Nah, you know me, Todd. I’m not a settling-down type of guy.”

“That’s what Zane said. Now look at him.”

They both watched Zane dancing with his gorgeous new sub, Emma. Dressed as the devil and Cleopatra, they looked incredibly happy as they embraced. Hunter had to admit he felt a little envious, but he wouldn’t let on to Todd. Instead he turned away from the smooching couple.

This year everything seemed more poignant than ever. A young woman who’d frequented the club had tragically lost her life. Why had it happened? He’d only known her by sight, but he just couldn’t shake her image from his mind. It seemed such a waste, but it also underlined how fleeting life could be.

His thoughts drifted to the past. His life simply overflowed with regrets. Why couldn’t he keep any of the promises he’d made? Maybe then he wouldn’t be so lonely.

Trying to stave off his melancholy, he asked the barman, “So have you made any New Year’s resolutions, Todd?”

“Nope, not a one. As a single guy, I just take life as it comes. What about you?”

Hunter threw back his head and took a large slug of bourbon. “I only ever made one New Year resolution in my whole Goddamn life. I didn’t stick to it, so I’ll be damned if I make the same mistake again.”

Once again he was reminded of his past. Of course, as a thirty-two-year-old man, he’d had his fair share of regrets, but failing to keep a New Year’s promise fourteen years ago was a low point in his life. He remembered the girl he’d made it to—Zoë Leighton. He’d made a pledge back then, but hadn’t seen it through. Even though they were just kids at the time, it still left a bitter taste in his mouth. He recalled his very words.

I promise I’ll come back for you, Zoë. I’ll find a place for us to live. As soon as you’re old enough to leave here, I’ll come back for you.

It was all going to be so simple, but as usual, life had other ideas. That was a long time ago now, and he’d never once returned to Pittsburgh in all that time. Fuck. He shook his head. What a selfish, uncaring prick he’d been, but he just couldn’t face seeing Zoë’s disappointment.

At eighteen, he’d enrolled in the Marines, figuring the don’t-give-a-fuck lifestyle would suit him perfectly.

Some decisions were right, while others were downright suicidal. The Marines had seriously fucked him up. He’d really enjoyed the intensive physical training, but a stint in Iraq, followed almost immediately by a long tour of duty in Afghanistan had changed him beyond all recognition.

The sheer horror of what he’d seen and done had fucked with his mind. Just like vultures picking over the bones of a dead carcass, his time in the US Marine Corps had stripped him clean of all feeling and emotion. Now all that remained was a fighting machine devoid of love and intimacy.

So just where had the freethinking and optimistic Hunter Black gone—the young guy Zoë had depended on?

He took another slug of bourbon, and slid the empty glass across the counter. “Same again, Todd.” Melancholy forced him to wonder what had happened to that beautiful green-eyed girl. Was she happy? He hoped she was far happier than he was. He guessed by now she’d be married with a family of her own.

Funny how life sometimes threw you a curveball. Just over six months ago, he’d bumped into an old friend. As a Federal Air Marshal, he met a lot of people, and Jake McGovern just happened to be on the same flight as him. He’d grown up with Jake and Zoë at St. Mark’s, a children’s home in Pittsburgh. The three of them were close buddies, all trying to survive life in care as best they could. Similar in ages, Jake and himself had been ten. Zoë was barely eight years old when he’d met her for the first time. As three frightened kids all alone in life, they’d huddled together looking for comfort from each other. He knew the children’s care system well. Families were few and far between who were willing to adopt older children from broken homes. He figured prospective foster parents thought they’d be a handful to look after. They’d have been right, too. On the flight to New York, Jake had told him that he’d briefly seen and spoken with Zoë. Apparently she was working as a dancer at Les Belles, a club located in a seedier part of Pittsburgh.

Hunter raised his glass, and silently toasted the young woman from his past.
To, Zoë, I sincerely hope you’re happy, love. If I’m ever in Pittsburgh, I might just look you up and make sure. If only to ease my conscience.

Three months later

Wishing to apply her makeup as professionally as possible, Zoë Leighton leaned closer to the dressing-room mirror. Those damned lights covering the frame did nothing for her complexion. Their overexposed brightness made her skin appear gray and lifeless. She smiled resignedly and shook her head as she carefully applied fiery-red lipstick. Who was she kidding. At the age of thirty, she guessed it was a case of diminishing returns.

In the mirror she couldn’t help but be distracted by the naked butts and breasts as the other girls got ready for work. Laughing and joking with one another, the stars of today and tomorrow were getting ready for opening time. Just like them, she had burned brightly once. She’d been in demand, too. Rich, important men had wanted her to dance for them all night long, but now she was lucky to get a fraction of the attention and money she’d once received. Soon it wouldn’t be worth her time and effort to come in at all. Then what would she do? Waitress? The money she earned at Les Belles had been fantastic in her early days at the club. Far more than she could have earned in a boring but safe nine-to-five job.