Taken by the Dom: A Light BDSM Bad Boy Romance

by Dee, Cassandra

  The negative thoughts began to kill my mood. I was a twenty-two year old wallflower. Stacy and Linda were always bragging about how many guys asked them out or told them how pretty they were. Random guys would just walk up to them on the street.

  But no one ever does that to me. I’m Miss Third Wheel, tagging along on dates, the funny, fat friend who’s always available to hang out. Did I want to be that my whole life?

  After all, my job as a copy editor for a woman’s magazine doesn’t exactly help me meet eligible guys. All day long, all I see are women. No men work for the magazine, not when you have endless articles about hair care products and medications for menstrual pain. Yeah, it’s pretty boring when you get to the nuts and bolts. Movies make magazine jobs look glamorous, but trust me, the nitty gritty is dull.

  I used to fantasize about the office being more like the set of a Shonda Rimes show with tons of McDreamies and McHotties wandering the halls. One of them would look my way, and electricity would rocket through the air. Then bam! After a couple seasons, I’d be married to my doctor or lawyer hearthrob, no questions asked.

  So yeah, reality is a lot different, to say the least. In the office, my co-workers shared stories about their dating lives, most of which involved a different guy every week. Most of the time my mouth was open in shock as they spent lunch hours sharing secrets, talking about monster appendages or wet moments in bed.

  “His dick was eight inches long, ladies. I am not exaggerating! I almost fled before he could stick it in,” whispered Barbara, a beautiful staffer from the Style & Beauty section. She took a teeny bite of salad before continuing on with today’s lunchtime tale.

  “But all I can say is I’m glad I didn’t run because once he started, it was all good,” she confided, breath coming fast, face growing hot. My other co-workers giggled as they ate their sandwiches like a bunch of prairie mice.

  “Girl, I completely agree. A large cock makes you want to run at first cause you’re not sure if it’s going to fit,” announced Mary, the outspoken head of the research department. “But then he gives it to you and it’s soooo good, cravin’ it morning noon and night,” the woman drawled in a Southern accent, fanning herself.

  Because we’re like a bunch of chickens in a coop, chirping about this and that, including penis size. In fact, penis size was our favorite topic. At this point I was well versed in men’s physical anatomy, even if I’d never actually seen much in real life.

  Because most of the time, I would smile, laugh or nod my head like I knew what they were talking about. They all believed my long-distance boyfriend, Jake, didn’t get the opportunity to see me that much because work had him traveling from one location to another. But obviously, Jake was fake. He was someone my imagination created to fit in, nothing else.

  And suddenly it was show time.

  “What about you, Katie, any wild stories about you and your boy toy?” asked Laney with a sly, crooked smile.

  I almost choked after the question was asked. Gulping down some water, I tried to look unperturbed.

  “He’s out of town again. We don’t get to see each other much these days because work keeps him on the road.” The lie fell so easily from my lips.

  “Well tell him you expect a night focused solely on your needs when he gets back,” cooed Sally, an older woman from accounting. Fortunately, another co-worker launched into her latest sexcapade, so the attention was off me already. Thank goodness. Saved again.

  Because yeah, we’re told in childhood that lying is wrong, but I’d suffered enough humiliation. My virgin status at my age already embarrassed me beyond belief. I didn’t need people at work knowing and making fun of me. So Jake was born out of necessity, and nothing else.

  But the thing is I hadn’t really been with a guy before last night. Elaine’s set me up on a few blind dates, but the dates ended up being lame. Generally they were short trolls that wanted me to worship them for no reason at all. Where did that come from? I didn’t get it. The shorter the guy, the bigger the ego.

  Take last time for example. The man Elaine set me up with had been absolutely puny, probably five two, with bad breath and hair coming out of his ears. What was she thinking? Was I that hard up?

  But there was no way to get out of it now. As I approached the table, Elaine jumped up.

  “Katie, there you are! Katie, meet Randy. Randy, Katie,” she said, beaming like a proud mama.

  I managed a weak smile.

  “Hi, nice to meet you,” were my words.

  Randy was short, paunchy and balding, but he acted like the King of England.

  “Nice to meet you,” he sniffed, taking a swig of wine. Never mind that we were at a burger joint. This guy had ordered rosé to go with his veggie burger. Who does that?

  So I was already turned off, and at the end of the night, made my excuses, mumbling this or that about work.

  “Please, it’s Saturday night!” exclaimed my friend, tossing that blonde hair back. “You don’t have work.”

  “No, I do, I do,” came my rushed reply. “Sorry gotta go!”

  And with that, I was off into the darkness, Randy far behind. Thank god. But unfortunately, most of my “dates” followed along pretty similar lines. Didn’t any of Elaine’s male buddies have better friends than the toads I got stuck with?

  It was so disappointing.

  So, so disappointing.

  Pulling my blanket up over my body, a sigh escaped my lips. After tonight, I no longer needed a Jake or my TV fantasies to sustain me. I’d had real, live men, in the flesh. Not one, not two, but three men making me cum with their fingers and tongues.

  But what did I want? A relationship? With three guys? I snorted at my own thoughts. Mason, Kane and Tyler didn’t live here in Knox. They belonged in the big city, with fast cars, beautiful women, and million dollar jobs. By contrast, I was a small-town girl with a piddling salary at a regional magazine. Where could this really go?

  “Ummph!” came my enraged growl.

  Kicking the covers off, I pulled at my curls in frustration.

  What should I do?

  What should I think?

  Should I go back to the old Katie, going on sporadic dates with midget men like Randy?

  Should I subject myself to a lifetime of loneliness?

  Or should I give into the wonderment that was Mason, Kane and Tyler?

  Suddenly, I realized the black and white nature of my thoughts. This wasn’t a forever thing, and that was the point exactly. I couldn’t expect forever. Why was forever even on the agenda?

  So maybe I could explore. I could take this moment for what it was worth, and live in the now with my three alpha billionaires. Why not? I could enjoy myself and see where the relationship went, if you could even call it a relationship.

  Yeah , the voice in my mind chimed. You don’t even know if they’re still in Knox! Maybe they already took off on that fancy jet.

  That was true. I’d assumed that Mason, Kane and Tyler were staying around, but hey, the money doesn’t get made by itself. Maybe they were already gone, and all I had were memories.

  But maybe Mason, Tyler and Kane were still here in my small town, and I’d get a lesson for the ages, times three. My heart beat fast, even as I tried to fall asleep. Because I want them, yes … and everything these gorgeous men can teach.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Kane

  How the hell did we get roped into a post-wedding brunch? Because from the minute we stepped foot into the restaurant, Elaine was already acting like the Queen of England, ordering everyone about like they were her loyal subjects.

  “Here, here,” she said imperiously, pointing this way and that. “No! There, there!”

  The waiters scurried around like mice, doing her bidding. Tyler, Mason and I exchanged looks. Man, this was gonna be painful.

  Meanwhile, poor Bobby leaned back in his chair, looking exhausted. But my guess was that he hadn’t gotten laid. No way. Elaine probably kept him up until sunrise complaini
ng about this or that, instead of doing her wifely duties. Man, if that had happened last night, I’m sure my bro would be looking a lot more chipper this morning.

  But it was too late now. The deal was signed, sealed and delivered. Might as well put a good spin on it.

  “Yo Bob, you should come hang in New York with us one weekend,” grunted Tyler, slapping our buddy on the back. “We never got the chance to do a bro’s weekend before you got married.”

  Maybe that would cheer the guy up. A big steak dinner, and some time at Scores and Lace with the professional ladies. Maybe that’d put a spring back in his step. Mason jumped in, echoing the sentiment.

  “Yeah bro, you should definitely come. We could hit up all of our old places.”

  He’d obviously seen the forlorn look on Bobby’s face too. This was our fucking bro; we didn’t want to see him looking so defeated, it was downright sad. So I threw in my two cents as well. Might as well go for the money.

  “It hasn’t been the same without you, Bobster. Come for a weekend. It’ll be like old times,” I promised.

  And Bobby looked better after our words. Some color returned to his face, and he sat straighter in the chair. But before a word was uttered, Elaine bulldozed her way into the conversation like a crazed rhino.

  “If Bobby goes to New York, I’ll be coming with him,” she pronounced snappily. “After all, we are married now, right my love?”

  My bros and I swiveled to face the poor guy. So she’s in charge now huh? Man, freedom is precious, and Bobby no longer had it. Because without looking in our direction he looked down and mumbled.

  “Yes, dear,” came the words, docile like a pet dog.

  Satisfied, Elaine flashed a triumphant smile and turned back to issuing orders. Not a moment too soon, my lady. Not a moment too soon.

  Because I’ve heard of the Stepford Wives, but had Bobby become a Stepford Husband? Was he now a robot without any self-will? Existing on this Earth only to make Elaine happy? Man, what a turnaround from our carefree spirited days, roaming around town like a pack of wolves.

  So yeah, it looked like marriage was a life sentence. A bad one, for my bud especially. Sorry bro, that’s a raw deal. This is a tough one with no easy way out.

  And glancing at his tired profile, I pitied the poor guy for the millionth time. At least there was always divorce if the shit got too bad. Please tell me he had her sign a pre-nup.

  But now, the post-wedding brunch. The fancy restaurant had nice décor, but the food was terrible. It was being served in bite size portions fit for a dwarf. Plus, it was some low-carb, no calorie, tasteless mush that Elaine and her brigade of skinny minnies preferred, if they ate at all. Another sigh escaped me. Hopefully, there was a good steakhouse nearby where we could grab a real meal later.

  But fuck, there was just no peace in this place. Because Stacy and the other bridesmaids started throwing themselves at us in about five minutes flat. It was shameless, I tell you. Crazy out of whack shameless. Clearly, they weren’t up with body language and cold stares.

  “Where did you guys go last night? You missed dancing with us,” Stacy whined as she tried to get our attention. If there was a paper bag nearby, I might have forced it over her head just to muffle the noise.

  No reply from any of us.

  “I wanted to show you something,” she cooed, winking our way and carelessly flipping that blonde hair over her shoulder.

  Really?

  What could it be?

  None of us were interested.

  But to be polite, Mason spoke up.

  “We had to go back to the hotel to get a little work done last night,” the big man said smoothly, more to fill the silence than anything.

  Linda, the hyena, seemed to think this was hilarious because she let out a high pitched half-shriek / half-giggle then.

  “What? Work on a Saturday night? Who does that?”

  Tyler, Mason and I looked at each other incredulously. Was this really happening? I realize we’re not from Knox, but yes, people do work on Saturdays sometimes.

  After all, we got to be billionaires by putting in the hours. That means evenings and weekends, blood, sweat and tears all the way. These two chicks were so out of touch, going googly-eyed and giggling like nincompoops. God. Just kill me now.

  But it was better to be nice. This was my bud’s wedding, after all.

  “My company’s busy right now, we’re in the middle of acquiring Little Mortie’s Cupcakes. It’s not a done deal yet, but almost. So yeah, there was some work on the table.”

  That got a reaction then. Linda and Stacy squealed in unison, the sound shrill and piercing.

  “Oh my god! We love Little Mortie’s!”

  “Those cupcakes, are like, so good. We eat them all the time!”

  Yeah, right. Did these crazy girls expect us to believe they’d eat cupcakes? More like anything with sugar and cream was toxic, going into the trash immediately. But I smiled politely, hemming and hawing, trying to keep the ladies at bay.

  “Sure,” was my noncommittal reply. “I’ll get you some samples.”

  The girls screamed in unison then, hands going up to cover their mouths.

  “Yes!” breathed Stacy, eyes wide.

  “More!” screamed Linda, practically orgasming.

  It was hard not to roll our eyes. After all, this was all fake, not to mention over-the-top dramatic.

  But finally, the girl we were waiting for walked in the door. Yes, Katie. Yesterday, she’d been gorgeous despite that ugly green dress, but today, there was no more dress. And as a result, the female was absolutely ravishing, a goddess to behold. The modest, floral outfit she wore spoke of innocence, showcasing those curves to perfection. Her brown hair was down and curly, floating above her shoulders.

  But I’m no angel. My eyes roamed all over that body. The memory of those Double D’s spilling out as we undressed her caused my dick to jerk involuntarily. I wanted to motorboat those luscious tits and then use them to jerk off before splashing my cum all over her chest. Damn! She had me wrapped around her finger from “Hello.”

  But there’s a time for everything, and that time wasn’t now. So instead, we went easy.

  “Hey you,” I drawled lazily.

  A beautiful smile wreathed the female’s face before she snapped to. Oh yeah, it was like there were birds tweeting, baby deer coming to lie at our feet as violins played. But there were people around, so the girl quickly took her seat.

  “Hi, everyone. Sorry I’m late,” came that sweet voice.

  And the woman reached for an ice cold glass of water then. Like a parched desert traveler, she gulped the liquid, throat visibly moving with each swallow. That’s right baby, put out that fire starting inside of you. You know you want some more of what we gave you.

  But enough is enough. There was no need for a show. We were about to launch into normal conversation when Stacy’s screech cut through the air.

  “Kane is a CEO, did you know? A real, live CEO!” she tittered. But it didn’t stop then. “His company is buying Little Mortie’s Cupcakes, we love that stuff, don’t we girls?”

  The woman’s voice literally made me nauseous, difficult to stay upright in my seat. But none of the other ladies noticed.

  Linda on my left chimed in, “He must be worth millions!”

  And then Elaine waltzed over from nowhere, determined to have the last word.

  “Actually, they’re billionaires,” she said smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Count ‘em girls. That’s nine zeros, in case you need help.”

  I frowned at the blonde. Bride or no bride, this was bad manners. Never talk about money or religion, got it? But Elaine is unstoppable, nodding proudly as if we were her sons.

  Collectively, more ooh’s and ahh’s rose around the table. Damn, these skinny chicks were getting wet just thinking about our money. They were all so turned on by our huge bank accounts and nothing more. Shit. Women are the same everywhere huh? Up in New York and down here in th
e middle of nowhere as well.

  But Katie seemed unaffected by the news. She merely nodded her head slightly in acknowledgment before turning to address us.

  “I love Little Mortie’s Cupcakes,” she said with a genuine smile. “The caramel swirl fudgies are my favorite.”

  The other girls looked quizzically at each other. What were fudgies? Some kind of fudge slash brownie mix? Clearly, Little Mortie’s wasn’t a win for them.

  But Mason and Tyler nodded their heads approvingly. Of course, Katie was the type of girl that loved Little Mortie’s. Further, I’m sure she enjoyed eating a juicy, rare hamburger, loaded with everything and washing it down with a milkshake made with whole milk too. Our female loves food and isn’t afraid to hide it.

  Smiling brilliantly, she turned to me next.

  “How was your night?” came the soft question.

  Was she being serious? The girl knew how my night had been because I’d spent it with her. Or more accurately, we’d spent it with her.

  But the crowd didn’t have to know, so discretion was key.

  “It was real good,” Tyler said smoothly.

  “Best night ever,” Mason growled, before lifting a drink to his lips.

  “People should get married more often,” I added, not to be outdone. “Weddings seem to bring something out in people, don’t you agree?”

  The suggestive question had those cheeks going pink again, the girl gasping quietly in her seat. But she didn’t give in either. Instead, the woman turned our way.

  “I’m glad you’re all enjoying your stay in our little town. I know coming from a big city, Knox must be real small in comparison.”

  Small was an understatement. More like a smudge on the map, a squashed bug leaving its trace.

  But that wasn’t the point. Taking a deep breath, Katie looked us straight in the eye then.

  “And how long before you return to New York?”

  Ah ha, the million dollar question. The three of us shared a look. We’d discussed this last night after arriving back at the hotel. If we hadn’t met Katie last night, it would have been sayanora, peace out immediately. I’d probably be sitting in my home office this very moment catching up on some work, the weekend already forgotten.