The Romantic Dominant

by Maggie Carpenter

  “I’ll be back to check on you in fifteen minutes,” he announced, and picking up her skirt and blouse he headed to the stairs.

  Abby turned and watched him leave, a heaviness rolling through her stomach.

  Shit. This is bizarre. He’s too much for me. I wish I could talk to Zander. I’ll cook the dinner and then I’ll pretend I don’t feel well and have to go home.

  In his bedroom Connor Matthews had picked up a pair of very sharp scissors and was shredding her clothes while watching her putter around the kitchen on his large, flat screen, TV. The sacrifice of her clothing was a ritual, denoting she was now his. He knew she’d be worrying about the six more straps, which wouldn’t happen later as promised, but at another time, out of the blue, when she least expected it.

  He’d been down this road many times, he knew exactly how to play the game, and Abby had walked in his door the loser.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  With Gabriela nestled against him, the weather playing its music against the windows, Zander had drifted into a light doze. The exhausted woman had fallen asleep almost immediately and he’d wondered how long it had been since she’d last slept peacefully. When he finally stirred a charcoal gray sky greeted him, the fire’s golden flame outlining the shadowy ghosts dancing upon the walls.

  Slowly he disentangled his body, but her sleep was so heavy her body remained limp and motionless. Silently moving from the room he walked down the hallway, wrapping his disarranged robe tightly around him. The lamps in the penthouse were on timers and their welcoming light greeted him, and though he kept the temperature at a comfortable 72 degrees he felt a chill in the air. Touching the smart screen on his wall he brought the living room fireplace to life.

  As he walked past his office he saw the blinking light on his house phone telling him there were waiting messages and he knew there would be more on his cell phone. Making his way to the kitchen he brewed a cup of coffee, grabbed his cellphone, and headed into his study to listen to all the voicemails.

  Tom reported the meeting with the retailers at the new site had gone very well and the smoldering fire had been extinguished.

  There was a call from his legal department asking him to get in touch as soon as he could.

  Heather had left a poignant message, saying how much she liked him and wished she were different.

  And then a message from Abigail; Connor, the new man in her life was visiting her.

  Zander smiled. She sounded excited and happy and he hoped everything had gone as well as she was expecting. On an impulse he powered up his desktop computer, and while listening to the messages on his home phone he googled Connor Matthews.

  The man’s website was impressive, and the photograph showed an attractive, mature man with salt and pepper hair, a square jaw and almost GQ model good looks. He was a prominent member of the Rotary Club, the Chamber of Commerce, an ‘Elite Friend’ of the Police Department, and had received many awards.

  This is a bit weird. Why would Connor Matthews date a youngster like Abigail?

  Deciding it was none of his business he let the computer go to sleep, and after returning his empty mug to the kitchen he opened his front door, finding the boxes and garment bags had been left as he had requested.

  He began carrying the new clothing into the guest room, and once everything was laid out on the bed he carefully removed the price tags, knowing he could return any of the clothes to Tabitha should an item not fit, or not be to Gabriela’s liking.

  He hung the dresses, skirts and slacks, in the walk-in closet, placing the shoes on the floor underneath them. The lingerie he left in their boxes, but snipped off the tags, leaving little evidence that they’d even been opened.

  Wandering back into the kitchen he opened the refrigerator, knowing it contained almost nothing. With Gabriela in the house he needed provisions, and deciding to make a run to the store, he headed to his study to write her a note.

  Gabriela,

  Running to buy some groceries. Make yourself at home.

  Zander

  Moving quietly back to his bedroom he laid the note on his pillow, then stealthily retrieved some clothes, changed in the guest room, and grabbing his coat from the hall closet he headed out.

  A short time later Gabriela’s eyes flickered open. For a moment she forgot where she was and a rush of panic caused her to bolt upright, then she saw the dancing fire, the floor to ceiling windows showing the heavy drizzle, and felt the warmth of the robe wrapped around her body.

  Turning to look at Zander’s side of the bed she saw his note and smiled. Laying back down she yawned and stretched her body, then reached for his pillow, hugging it close to her.

  For months she had prayed that Zander would rescue her and he had, and now she was laying in his bed. She almost wept with joy and relief but the tears refused her, though she could feel them wanting to surface.

  Slipping from the bed she padded out of the room, wanting to take a shower and make an effort to style her hair. Not having had it cut for months it had no shape, just length. Pushing open the door of the guest room, she stopped, shocked at what greeted her.

  Several boxes were sitting on the bed, each with her name scrawled across the top, and an envelope beckoned her attention. Opening it up she found a greeting card, the picture on the front showed a bird flying free from a cage. Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, she opened it up.

  Gabriela,

  There are clothes hanging in the closet, and shoes as well. If you don’t like anything, or if there’s a problem with fit, they can be easily exchanged. This is all, ‘no strings.’

  Hugs, Zander

  Dumbfounded, she walked to the closet and opened the door. Hanging on the rack were several dresses, skirts, slacks and jackets, and in the boxes were flats, sneakers, and high heels, all 7-1/2, her size. Turning back to the bed she opened the packages one by one, finding soft, feminine lingerie, and on the lid of the last box, scrawled in red pen, he had written, “Something special, for someone special.” Lifting the lid she discovered a pink, cashmere sweater and matching pants.

  “Zander,” she murmured, “I can’t believe you did all this.”

  Sinking down on the bed she closed her eyes, holding the soft sweater to her face, and flashed back to the time when they’d first met and she’d held his hand to her cheek. His palm had been soft and warm and she’d closed her eyes then too, imagining how his fingers might feel exploring her body.

  “Are you all right?”

  Slowly she looked up and found him standing in the frame of the door.

  “Zander, this is so much, what you’ve done,” she whispered. “How will I ever repay such kindness?”

  “I’ll take a hug,” he smiled.

  Standing from the bed she moved slowly towards him and melted into his body.

  “There are some things I need to tell you,” she breathed.

  “I picked up some chicken-vegetable soup from a great deli down the street. I’m going to heat it up for us,” he said softly. “Would you like to talk while we’re eating?”

  “Yes, but first I would like to take a shower.”

  “Whatever you want,” he replied, and stepping back he kissed her on the forehead. “It will be ready whenever you are.”

  “I won’t be long. It’s weird, I know I just took a bath a little while ago but I still feel icky,” she murmured.

  “You don’t need to explain. I’ll see you when you’re ready.”

  He hurried to the kitchen to unpack the groceries, waiting to heat up the soup until she appeared, and as he began stacking items in the cupboards and in the refrigerator, he realized he hadn’t truly shopped since the day he’d moved in. He ate out or ordered in; it was just the way his life was.

  “My gosh, how much did you buy?”

  Gabriela was standing by the kitchen table staring at the row of empty paper sacks. Zander could see the crimson satin of a nightie peeping over the top of the robe.

  “I didn’t have
anything and you can’t live on air,” Zander replied, feeling sheepish. “I’m not very domestic.”

  “Where are the plates and cutlery? I’ll set the table.”

  Zander showed her were the dishes were kept, and finding the container of soup she set about pouring it into a large bowl and placing it in the microwave. Together they puttered around, sharing the duties, folding up the empty bags and buttering some bread. Finally sitting down he looked across at her and smiled.

  “Gabriela, I’m so sorry about what happened to you. I’ve thought about you so much. I couldn’t understand why you had simply vanished.”

  “There are some things I must tell you,” she declared somberly, staring at the soup. “The thing is, this man, he, uh, how do I say this?”

  Zander cleared his throat, afraid of what she was about to tell him.

  “I don’t need to know-”

  “Please,” she interrupted. “This is important. There is no easy way to say these things so I will just say them. Okay?”

  “Yes, okay,” Zander answered, not sure if it was.

  “This evil man, he was impotent.”

  Of all the things she could have said, that was the last thing he had expected.

  “Ah, I see your shock. It is true. I will tell you another time what he had to do if he was to have, uh, his moment, but it is very twisted. He rarely touched me, and always it was cold, like ice. For the last couple of months, hardly at all.”

  “I don’t understand? Do you know why he took you? You’re such a strong woman, and predators usually pick weak, vulnerable victims.”

  “Yes, I know,” she sighed. “He told me many times.”

  “He did?”

  “Prepare yourself, Zander,” she warned, fixing him with her sparkling green eyes.

  “I’m ready,” he declared, “tell me.”

  “Remember the night we met at Willows?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you remember I was supposed to be meeting a man there, but he was very late and we moved to the table.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “That was the man, is the man. He was so envious and angry that I was talking to you instead of waiting for him, he stalked me, waiting for his chance to exact his revenge.”

  Zander felt the blood drain from his face.

  “What? That was ages ago. This is crazy! How did he even find you?”

  “He followed me home that night, and after I left for Brazil he broke into my home and bugged it. The day I returned he came in the house, chloroformed me and threw me into his car. I hadn’t even unpacked. There are so many things he did to keep me hidden, to convince the people in my life that I was traveling.”

  “All because he saw you with me?”

  “He said I should have waited for him, but Zander, I am not the first. There have been many before me, but they have been as you said, young and vulnerable. He told me constantly I was his first mistake.”

  “He’s got that right. I promise you, Gabriela, he will not get away with this.”

  “I suddenly feel very tired,” she sighed. “There’s so much more to tell you.”

  “It can wait, you need to rest.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “I do, that’s how I feel, as if I need to sleep for a week, but first I must call my sister, I must tell her I’m all right.”

  “You have a sister? She must be worried sick, of course you must call her, and anyone else who will have been worried about you.”

  “My sister, she’s in Brazil. I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry? Make sure you don’t tell her where you are, or my phone number, no information. It’s better for her and safer for us.”

  “I will remember,” she promised.

  “You can use my phone in the study.”

  “Thank you. I know she will be so relieved, and Zander, this soup is absolutely divine.”

  “I’m glad you approve,” he smiled, hiding the pain he felt for her.

  When they’d finished their meal Zander showed Gabriela to the study, and after clearing up the dishes he headed to the guest room to move the boxes ready the bed for her. He had just finished placing the lingeries packages on the dresser when she appeared at the door.

  “Zander,” she said softly.

  “Yes, what is it? Is your sister all right?”

  “Oh yes, so relieved, so happy, my whole family. She’s calling some friends for me. It’s just…”

  “Just what?” he pressed, worried that something else had happened.

  She moved forward, laying her head on his chest.

  “For months I have been alone and afraid. I have slept in a cold, locked room in a creepy house with an insane, twisted man that I loathed and feared just down the hall. Would it be too much to ask to sleep with you?”

  Zander felt his heart melt.

  “Of course you can,” he crooned, engulfing her with his arms.

  “You don’t mind?” she asked.

  Mind? I’ve thought of you every day since I last saw you.

  “No, Gabriela, no, I most certainly do not.”

  With his arm around her they walked into his bedroom, and as he entered his closet to change into a T-shirt and boxers, he caught a glimpse of her dropping the robe.

  The scarlet red, satin nightie shimmered in the fire’s light, and he waited until she’d slipped into bed before returning and climbing in next to her, sighing deeply as she molded her body into his.

  In the two-story Tudor house, Abigail was laying on the floor of her locked room, terrified and completely beside herself, her tears unrelenting. After she had served him dinner he had made her some cocoa, and as she’d sipped it, nervously explaining why she had to go home, she had felt herself become dizzy and weak. He had carried her up the stairs into a blue bedroom, removed her garter belt and stockings, dressed her in a long, blue nightgown that buttoned from the hem to the neck, and sat her on the bed, propping her up against the tufted headboard.

  She had tried to talk, to tell him that she was giddy and confused, but her tongue wouldn’t work. He’d left for a short time, and when he’d returned he was wearing pajamas and carrying a can of whipped cream. Unbuttoning the top of the nightie he had yanked it down her arms, then sprayed her breasts with copious amounts of the cream before lustily devouring them.

  He had sucked and licked and nibbled, and when the cream was gone he’d sprayed more, greedily sucking her nipples without pause, mumbling and murmuring words she couldn’t comprehend, moaning with his perverted pleasure. Finally satisfied, he’d disappeared, returning with a warm wash cloth and wiping them clean, mumbling about her marvelous mounds. As he’d left he’d switched out the light and she had slipped into sleep, waking up cramped, cold and uncomfortable.

  Burrowing under the covers she’d cried copious tears, hating herself for having been so stupid. Finally gathering her wits she’d made her way to the door, determined to get out of the house and run to a neighbor, or all the way home if she had to, but it was locked, and racing to the window, to her horror she’d found it nailed shut.

  Panic had clutched her, squeezing her lungs, making it difficult to breath, and she had slid down the wall, screaming Connor’s name, calling him a freak and a coward, then exhausted and sobbing, begged him to let her go.

  It was all being recorded for Connor’s viewing pleasure.

  He was never happy, but he did have moments of satisfaction and he had been supremely satisfied with Slut Abby and her marvelous mounds. His experience with the Brazilian Bitch had been a complete debacle, and the memory of her difficult, rebellious streak continued to anger him.

  Slut Abby though, Slut Abby was perfect. Her mounds were perfect, her long blond hair was perfect, her youth was perfect, and the abrupt orgasm that had blasted through his dick, so sweet and so powerful, was one of the best he’d ever had.

  Slut Abby was going to be with him for a while, and he was almost glad the Brazilian Bitch had run away. He’d still have to find
her and dispose of her, there was no other way, but Slut Abby would give him the energy he needed to take care of such business.

  Slut Abby was perfect.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “If you’re awake, there’s something else I want to tell you,” Gabriela whispered.

  Zander had been sleeping, but lightly. Wonderfully aware of Gabriela ’s warm body, his cock had frequently woken him in various stages of life. His eyes blinked open and he gazed at the clock; 2:33 a.m. The fire was burning softly, automatically decreasing twenty-percent every hour, a command he’d tapped into his tablet as he’d turned off the bedside lamp.

  “I’m listening,” he replied quietly, shifting himself up on an elbow.

  Staring down at her, he marveled at the vision; her long black hair encircled her face, like a wild onyx frame surrounding a beautiful portrait.

  “Every night, I imagined that you would find me,” she breathed, “and when you called I prayed very hard that you would realize something was horribly wrong, and you would know in your heart that I would never reject you the way that I had.”

  Lifting his hand he traced the contours of her face, brushing away a renegade group of hairs that had fallen across her emerald eyes.

  “I didn’t know what to think,” he confessed, “but I knew it made no sense. Gabriela, there hasn’t been a day when I haven’t thought of you.”

  “Really?” she whispered.

  “Yes, really,” he replied softly.

  His cock had sprung to life, and as much as he attempted to will it back to sleep it ignored him.

  “This man would tie me up and blindfold me, but I would imagine I was laying next to you just like this. I grew to like those times because I could escape, and I would always escape to thoughts of you.”

  “You need to sleep, you need to recover from this dreadful ordeal,” he said tenderly.

  “Yes, I do,” she replied, “but Zander, we don’t know what might happen. We don’t know when something terrible might drop out of nowhere, and if I hadn’t made it out you would never have known…” her voice trailed off and she gazed up at him, her face a tapestry of shadows cast by the fire’s low flickering flames, and the ebbing and flowing of cool silver as the clouds floated across the face of the moon.