by Tara Quan
At six in the morning, dawning light colored a cloudless sky. Boston, and most of the East Coast, had missed the memo about April being part of spring. Though snow had begun to melt, the temperature remained on the nippy side of comfortable.
In a blur of muddy black, Bear lifted his fat butt and scampered off. Thank goodness she’d remembered to lock the back entrance. Dogs could charm their way out of most sticky situations, but she didn’t have the furry cuteness advantage. Presenting a house covered in soapy water to a returning homeowner would be in poor form.
Her arms crossed, she laughed as the giant mutt attempted to barrel through the transparent barrier. Diluted by touches of Labrador Retriever, Bear’s softened German Shepherd features lacked the breed’s trademark ferocity. With a short snout and one floppy ear, he resembled an overgrown puppy. Though the head-butting routine brought his intelligence into question, she couldn’t fault his sense of hearing. The dog could detect his master’s BMW from blocks away.
Her plan to skedaddle before Luka returned had gone up in smoke. Damn. She could have sworn his flight didn’t land for another hour. Whether or not she’d wanted to say good-bye to Bear, she should never have accepted this final visit.
Shoving her hands into the pocket of her pants, she pulled out a clicker. “Bear, sit.”
Whipping around to face her, the dog tilted his giant head to one side. A low whine followed a series of barks. She could envision a thought bubble above his head. You’re shitting me. Sit? Now? But Daddy’s home.
“He’s not here yet. We have plenty of time to kill, and I’m not done with your bath. Sit.”
The dog rammed the tempered glass a few more times. But, after a series of failed attempts, he plopped his bottom on the ground and stared at the inaccessible kitchen.
With some reluctance, she pressed the button to recognize his less-than-stellar performance. “Good boy. Okay, come.”
Whimpering, he pressed his nose against the door and howled. The needy dog acted as if Luka had abandoned him for weeks, not a single night.
She cleared her throat. “Bear, I said come.”
After she repeated the order, her charge deigned to trot back. Upon receipt of the requisite click, he nuzzled her free hand, reminding her of the obligatory reward. At least half of the training had stuck. Rolling her eyes, she pulled out a treat. The small piece of dried meat disappeared, leaving behind a smear of saliva.
Recognizing her narrowing window of opportunity, she hosed the dog down and managed to wash off most of the suds before he raced back to resume his vigil by the glass. Heaving a sigh, she sauntered after him with a beach towel and blotted away as much water as she could. She managed to wipe his paws before the opening front door sent him into a barking frenzy.
“Obedience-trained, my ass.” Peering over the bobbing canine head, she glimpsed Luka. Having taken care of Bear for the entirety of his two-year existence, she knew better than to put an Armani suit in danger.
Muscles rippling, the dog alternated between pawing the back door and staring at her with huge, pleading puppy-dog eyes. She patted his nose. “Sorry, buddy. Those clothes cost more than six-months’ rent—in Allston, not Beacon Hill. I’m not letting you anywhere near the man.”
After dumping a fresh towel on his torso, she tidied the area and put away the plethora of grooming supplies and toys. Once she’d settled the backyard into its original pristine condition, she returned to the sliding doors.
Through the transparent divider, she spotted a familiar, bare-chested hunk. Jagged clumps of sandy hair grazed his neck. Beads of water decorated his pale skin. How had the man showered so fast?
As Luka stared her down, her heart raced, its rhythm seeming to synchronize with the exuberant wag of Bear’s tail. Her throat went dry as her wayward gaze followed the expanse of well-defined pecs to fixate on an array of chiseled abs. A too-recent memory broke through her concentration. She could feel his five o’clock shadow scrape her chin, his coarse chest hair rasping her palms. The corners of his chocolate eyes crinkled when instinct propelled her forward. Her breath fogged the glass. The front of her shoes met the doorframe.
He gestured at the barking dog with his sharp, high-bridged nose. Her fingers sluggish, she pulled a collar from the pocket of her oversized sweatshirt. After fastening it to Bear’s neck, she grabbed on.
The moment the latch clicked, the dog jumped up, his sudden lurch knocking her backward. She landed on her butt with a startled yelp.
His owner’s mahogany eyes narrowed to slits. “Bear, sit.”
Within a second of his snapped command, the dog’s ass met grass. Mouth wide open and tongue hanging out, he laved the back of his master’s hand with several noisy slurps before lowering his head in a familiar invitation. When Luka rewarded his adoration with a vigorous head scratch, Bear’s dark eyes lolled back.
“Good job. Lie down, and stay.”
With a loud woof, the kiss-ass mutt settled on the ground next to her, his unquestioning obedience a far cry from his previous unruly behavior. Joining them on the grass despite the danger of staining his tan trousers, Luka rewarded Bear’s good efforts with a belly rub.
And even though a huge, squirming creature separated them, he somehow managed to graze his bare toes against the uncovered patch of skin between her pants and Crocs. The fleeting contact sent heat streaking up her leg. “Did he give you any trouble?”
Drawing her knees to her chest, she shook her head. “Not at all. I’d thought you wouldn’t be back for a while.” She’d triple-checked his itinerary, intending to leave fifteen minutes before his arrival time.
“I caught an earlier flight.” He toyed with Bear’s collar. “What do you think? Is the obedience training paying off?”
Shifting sideways, she managed to add an inch to the distance between them. “He certainly knows how to follow orders.” Whether the dog listened to anyone but his owner was a separate issue.
Luka rewarded her obfuscation with a panty-melting smile. “It’s all about discipline.”
Forcing out a choked breath, she clambered to her feet. “Well, since you’re back, I should….”
“Thanks for giving him a bath. He’s spending the next couple of days with my parents.” Ruffling the dog’s damp fur, he stood. “Their chef might throw him more bones if he smells like shampoo.”
She glanced at the overweight canine. With any luck, Bear would burn off some extra calories by running around the Petrovich estate. A design magazine had featured the gorgeous New England mansion not too long ago, and the expansive grounds qualified as dog heaven. “I’m sorry you had to send him away for the weekend. If I’d received more notice….”
Luka waved off her apology. “Don’t be silly. It’s spring break, and you deserve a vacation. This vet school of yours is working you to the bone.” As he looked her up and down, faint lines bracketed his mouth.
“Well, I have less than a year left.” She tugged at the hem of her thick, shapeless top. Where had the self-consciousness come from? Her cup size fell short of a B, and she wore a restrictive sports bra. No way could he see her boobs.
So why was he staring at her as if he could detect her nipples peaking?
When he reached for her, she stepped around the dog and shuffled toward the house. “Best to leave Bear outside until you head out. It’s a sunny day, and he’s not dry yet.”
As soon as she thought about entering the house with Luka, she shivered. The last time they’d spent time alone together in an enclosed space—
“You’re freezing.” Overtaking her with long-legged strides, Luka opened the door. “Get inside.”
She’d been heading to that precise destination, but the command halted her next step. He’d infused his low, raspy voice with a Dominant’s authority. She recognized the test and chose defiance.
Making a beeline for the wet towel by the door, she folded it into a neat bundle before attempting an innocent smile. “Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”
&nbs
p; A shaky lie prevented their sexual tension and occasional lapses in judgment from escalating to something more. But, after the one time they’d gotten hot and heavy, he’d ramped up the barrage of orders. With her self-control at an unprecedented low, fighting the instinct to obey proved a constant challenge.
His disapproving frown turned her stomach, and the desire to please him threatened to supersede caution. But she dithered until he marched into the house. After following him in, she turned and latched the door.
Closing in on her from behind, he placed his hands on either side of her head. Caged, she suppressed the impulse to lean back. Though a few inches shy of six feet, she stood a head shorter than him. The breadth of his shoulders dwarfed hers, the musculature of his arms another reminder of the disparity in their physical strengths. Spicy cinnamon aftershave blended with his unique scent, the combination firing up parts of her brain she’d always striven to hold in check.
They battled on an uneven playing field. His mere presence propelled her into a state of insufferable arousal, and each touch whittled away her defenses until she feared she might divulge her secret. She imagined him overpowering her, pinning her arms behind her back, and shoving her against the glass. He would hold her in an unrelenting grip and yank her waistband down her hips before kicking her legs apart.
Rough fingertips brushed her nape, the contact crashing reality into her erotic fantasy. Shock prompted her to drop the towel in her hand. He caught her braid in a vise. Pulling her head back, he whispered against her ear, “You disobeyed me on purpose.”
Faced with the astute accusation, she failed to stem the apology before it escaped her lips. “I…. I’m sorry.”
His breath scorched her skin. “Kiss me, and I’ll forgive you.”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “No. We can’t do this. Not again.”
“Why not?” He bit her neck. The stab of pain sent a shiver down her spine. “You want to.”
Catching the anger underlying his words, she recognized the punishment for what it was. He’d marked her on purpose. Angling her head so she could look into his eyes, she murmured, “Why are you…. What happened?”
He tightened his hold on her hair. “I got the email about you quitting. A bit wimpy, don’t you think?” His other hand smoothed over her torso to settle on her waist. “You even had it routed through the agency instead of telling me yourself.”
Shit. She’d given strict instructions for them to forward her notice tomorrow, when she would be on the opposite side of the country, vacationing in Las Vegas. Firming her lips to keep them from trembling, she battled with a sudden surge of guilt and regret.
She didn’t want to quit. After all, she loved Bear, and the extra money went a long way toward keeping her student loans under control. But the decision was long overdue. Nursing a crush on Luka had been fine when he’d had a fiancée, rendering him off-limits and risk-free. Even after his engagement crashed and burned, the public fallout had kept him too distracted to notice her existence.
But he’d bounced back these past months, and their physical chemistry seemed on the verge of escalating to a more permanent arrangement. The moment he found out she shared his lifestyle, her hopes of keeping him at an arm’s length would turn to dust.
Why did she have to snag a drop-dead gorgeous Dom as a client?
With a nudge on her hip, he spun her around. Fear skittered down her back as he caught her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “Why won’t you work for me anymore?”
Her breath hitched. “I…. Umm…. My course work’s a bit overwhelming, and finals are coming up. I need to cut back—”
He placed his index finger over her lip. “Don’t lie, Naomi. Did you quit because of what happened last Friday?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I had a lot of reasons.” Falling into bed with him might top the list, but she saw no benefit in elaborating. “I should get going. My flight is in a few hours.”
His brows drew together. “Why are you running from this?” Though the volume remained consistent, his voice deepened. Shortened syllables gave his gruff question a menacing edge.
Since her knees threatened to give, she leaned on the glass. “How about the classic reason? I’m not interested in you.”
He trailed the pad of his thumb down the line of her neck, stopping at the zipper that held the sides of her hoodie together. “Your pupils are dilated. Your lips are swollen and red.” His hand shifted to rest on the side of her neck. “You’re warm. Your pulse is fast.” His fingers tightened. “I could yank off your panties and fuck you right now, and you wouldn’t do a thing to stop me. Should I teach you a lesson, little liar? Do you want me to punish you?”
She pressed her palms into his chest and heaved. Her best effort failed to shift the wall of muscle by even an inch. “We’ve had this conversation. I’m not—”
He closed his mouth over hers. The brutal kiss short-circuited her brain. Instead of continuing to push him away, she melted. With each lance of velvet heat, her mind retreated. She softened against his hold, her spine arching when his arms looped around her waist.
He crushed her against his chest, his tight embrace pushing air out of her lungs. His tongue probed, tasted, and possessed. Her breasts ached, her nipples throbbing under the damp cotton. He grabbed her butt and lifted, wedging his erection between her thighs. With each hard grind, fire spread from the juncture of her legs, enveloping her in an inferno of hunger.
She yearned to beg for more—to give him whatever he wanted. The powerlessness underlying the urge yanked her out of the daze. She refused to fall in love—with him or anyone else. A relationship was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
Twisting her head to the side, she broke contact. Her vision blurred as she blurted the words certain to stop him cold. “This. You. Me. It ends today. I can’t be what you want. I’m not a submissive.”
He let her go, and the abrupt rejection sent her staggering back. Tensed muscle sharpened his jawline a moment before his expression smoothed out, leaving a blank canvas. His lips curved, the empty smile chilling her more than any visible ire. “I sure know how to pick them, don’t I?” With a shrug, he pointed at the door. “At least I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t go through this song and dance twice, pet. You’re right. We shouldn’t see each other again.”
A hot tear streaking down her cheek, she ran.
***
Luka Petrovich scowled at the slamming door. What a mess. He’d sent Naomi racing out of his house, in tears, probably thinking him a total jerk. He’d come from a long line of men who couldn’t handle crying women. His aversion to playing the bad guy had contributed to his prolonged, ill-fated, cluster fuck of an engagement. And by the end, he hadn’t even liked his former fiancée.
He liked Naomi. A lot. And he’d made her cry.
Feeling as if he’d kicked a helpless puppy, he ambled to the backyard in search of comfort and forgiveness. Slumping on the grass next to Bear, he stared up at the blue-gray sky. As if the dog could sense his mood, he padded toward him and rested his huge head on his lap. He ran his palm along the abundant fur, using the tactile exchange to sooth his raw nerves.
When Bear let out a soft whine, he sighed. “I miss her, too, big guy. But it didn’t work out. I don’t think she’s coming back.”
Huge brown eyes stared up at him, the dog’s forlorn expression urging him to give Naomi a call. He could apologize. He could explain the reason why he’d snapped.
What would be the point? Seeing Naomi might give him an instant hard-on. The best night of his life might have been the one she’d spent in his bed. But, he’d attempted to have a girlfriend who wasn’t a submissive before. Ignoring his gut had wreaked havoc on his life, come close to destroying his career, and contributed to the growing schism between him and his family.
His gut told him Naomi was hiding something.
Bear licked his fingers and barked. “Don’t look at me like that.” Luka heaved a frustrated
breath. “I know they are two different women. But the problem’s the same. She’s not interested in BDSM.” And sexual dominance was a permanent component of his psyche. He couldn’t shut it off, even if he wanted to.
The dog nudged the back of his hand.
“I said I’m not mixing them up.” At least, not right this instant. In the kitchen, he’d admit to a momentary lapse. Confusing Naomi and Ivanna stood testament to his screwed-up brain. Two people couldn’t be more different.
Ivanna had been the quintessential golden girl, with short-cropped blonde hair, bright-blue eyes, and skin the color of cream. Though she lacked even an ounce of extra body fat, she’d sported melon-sized breasts and an ass to match. Both assets could have resulted from enhancements, but they’d passed the squeeze test.
For a while, his former fiancée’s attractiveness had compensated for her far-from-pleasant personality. Her need to correct perceived flaws, hers and his, had bordered on obsession. The constant touch-ups had prompted him to view her beauty as the mask. Hard and cold, she’d resembled a gorgeous sculpture and turned their shared bed into a suffocating tomb.
Naomi might have more angles than curves, but he appreciated the resilience implied by her muscle tone. With a sturdy, athletic build, her agility and bubbling energy brought delight to every movement. Each time they’d crossed paths, he’d struggled to tear his eyes off her.
Under the dawn’s light, skin the color of burnt caramel had invited his exploration. Just touching her sent electric jolts from his palms straight to his cock. Always tied back, her hair might be neither sleek nor smooth, but the escaping curls had tempted him to unravel her braid. When she’d straddled him last Friday, those ebony locks had formed a dark cloud behind her shoulders, the curving tendrils drawing his gaze to her dusky nipples. He hadn’t pushed her then, but he’d dreamt of fisting his hand behind her nape as she knelt at his feet, her clever mouth vulnerable to his every desire.