Dark Dominion: Dangerous Desire Book 1

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Dark Dominion: Dangerous Desire Book 1 Page 1

by Samantha Wolfe




  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Books by Samantha Wolfe

  Dedication

  Quote

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Coming soon...

  About the Author

  DARK

  DOMINION

  Dangerous Desire

  Book 1

  By

  Samantha

  Wolfe

  Copyright © 2017 Samantha Wolfe

  All rights reserved.

  Books by Samantha Wolfe

  Beautifully Broken Trilogy

  Let Me Love You:Beautifully Broken Book 1

  Let Me Save You:Beautifully Broken Book 2

  Let Me Heal You:Beautifully Broken Book 3

  Breathless Trilogy

  You Are My Air: Breathless Book 1

  You Are My Love: Breathless Book 2

  You Are My Life: Breathless Book 3

  Order & Chaos Trilogy

  An Act of Restraint: Order & Chaos Book 1

  An Act of Release: Order & Chaos Book 2

  An Act of Redemption: Order & Chaos Book 3

  Dangerous Desire Duet

  Dark Dominion: Dangerous Desire Book 1

  Dark Devotion: Dangerous Desire Book 2 (Summer 2017)

  To Wyatt, my best friend for eleven years.

  There'll never be another like you,

  and you will be sorely missed.

  You live on in Reggie...

  "I don't mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don't mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding."

  ― Anaïs Nin

  1

  GARETH

  I stared across the table of the small holding room at Leonard Rigby, one brow arched meaningfully as I listened to him bark yet another demand at me. I was beginning to think he wasn't very bright, and I had very little patience for stupidity.

  "You better be gettin' me outta this mess," he slurred out, obviously still high on whatever he'd taken to get into this situation in the first place. He shook his head jerkily, and his body twitched a few times out of nowhere before he continued. "My aunt said you're the best, so do whatever ya gotta do, and tell 'em whatever ya gotta do to get me outta this."

  He scratched at his greasy blond hair with long dirty fingernails, his collection of random meaningless tattoos scrawled across the skin of his gaunt arm like a drunken toddler had put them there. I noticed burns on his fingers, and his teeth were an atrocity I didn't care to acknowledge. Oh yes, he was definitely on meth.

  His pupils were dilated, the irises a just barely visible ring of watery blue, even though the room was bright with fluorescent lighting. He was sweating excessively as well, and he'd been jittery and anxious since I came in to talk to him. He'd been babbling mostly nonsense ever since. Thankfully, I was already aware of the charges against him, since I was struggling to make sense of what he was trying to convey with his rambling narrative.

  I leaned forward to rest my elbows on the table, and laced my fingers together. "So you want me to lie? Is that what you're suggesting, Leonard?" I asked pointedly. He was oblivious to my sardonic tone.

  "Well, yeah," he blurted out in exasperation. "Ain't that what lawyers do?"

  I suppressed an irritated growl. "How is that supposed to work when multiple witnesses corroborate the assault you're charged with Leonard?"

  "You're my lawyer," he said, like that was an answer to my question. "You do whatever I say to get me free."

  "No," I snapped out, not hiding my annoyance anymore. "I do not."

  "But I'm payin' you!" he snarled, his tall lanky body inflating angrily in his chair.

  "No," I replied. "Your aunt is paying me, and my job is to defend you and speak on your behalf, not lie for you. I'm your advocate, Leonard, not your sycophant."

  His brow furrowed in confusion. "Advo...synco, what?"

  "I'm here to look out for your best interests, Leonard, and at this point all I can do is try to plea bargain for a lesser sentence for you so-"

  "No!" he interrupted me with a glare. "I'm not taking a fucking plea bargain, you son of a-"

  I slammed my hands down on the table, and his mouth snapped shut. I was playing with fire since he was still high, but being disrespected infuriated me. Besides, I wasn't afraid of him. I'd dealt with far scarier criminals than a mere meth head like Leonard Rigby. I was starting to regret taking this case as a favor to Judge Rigby. Her soft spot for her brother's idiot son was completely misplaced. The man had a long criminal history of drug-related charges. Leonard was an addict and an imbecile. I was glad I wasn't a public defender and could decide which cases I took, or I'd be saddled with clients like this frequently.

  "You assaulted a seventy-year-old woman, Leonard, in broad daylight surrounded by almost a dozen witnesses." I didn't even try to hide my condescension. "You're going to prison, again. It's up to you whether you let me keep you from rotting there this time."

  "She wouldn't give me her purse!" he shouted as he slammed his fists on the table top. His eyes were wild as he worked himself up. "She kept fighting me! All she had to do was let go!"

  His spittle landed on my hand and the sleeve of my dark-gray Armani suit. I growled beneath my breath as I clenched my teeth. I pulled my hands off the table onto my lap and wiped my left one onto my slacks. I'd about had it trying to get this fool to focus, and my head was beginning to throb as he continued ranting nonsense about being a victim himself.

  "Leonard," I snarled out angrily, interrupting him with a hard intimidating glare. "Shut up."

  "But-"

  "No," I snapped out. "I'm going to talk and you're going to listen now, so try to focus if you can manage it."

  His eyes glittered with anger, but he finally shut up. Thank the Lord for small mercies.

  "You are guilty," I continued fiercely. He opened his mouth, and I raised a finger to stop him. "You are going to prison. Nothing I do or say will change that fact. Do yourself a favor and admit your guilt, so I can help you, then keep your goddamn mouth shut. Understand? Or are you going to keep babbling incoherently like a fucking moron."

  "You can't talk to me that way, you motherfucker!" Leonard barked out as he began to stand up. "I'll kick your ass! You're just a fucking pussy in a goddamn suit!"

  "Very well," I replied sharply. He could call me a pussy all he wanted. I knew it wasn't true. His opinion didn't matter to me in the least. "Then find your own counsel, Leonard. I'm not representing you."

  His eyes widened in sudden panic as I stood to leave.

  "Good luck with your public defender," I added sarcastically. "I'm sure you'll be in competent hands." Then because I was an asshole and couldn't seem to help myself, I added, "Enjoy the next decade of prison, Leonard. I'm sure a man like you will be very popular."

  When I was halfway to the door, Leonard let out an i
ncoherent roar behind me. I whirled to see him rushing across the room toward me, his eyes wild and mindless with rage. I reacted immediately, my body instinctively taking over thanks to my years of martial arts training. I fell into my fighting stance, my hips facing him, my hands up in front of my face in a guard position. Leonard came at me with a straight punch that flew toward my head. It was clumsy and completely telegraphed. This was too easy.

  I blocked his punch seamlessly with my left forearm, sending his fist up over my head uselessly. My right arm shot out to grip the back of his neck, pulling him in closer as I popped my right knee up and planted it right into his gut. The powerful blow elicited a sharp grunt out of him as the air in his lungs was forced out of his body in a rush. He dropped like a stone at my feet, gasping out desperate croaking noises as he fought to suck in a breath and clutched at his belly. I glared down at him contemptuously. Dumbass.

  I heard the door behind me fly open as the two officers who had been outside the door for my safety rushed up next to me. "Mr. Caxton!" one of them blurted out. "Are you alright?" I almost laughed at his ridiculous question, since Leonard was still writhing on the floor pathetically.

  "Yeah," I snapped out sardonically as I stepped away from Leonard. "I'm fine." I was never in any real danger from a strung-out meth head clumsily coming after me.

  The two officers wrangled Leonard onto his stomach and cuffed his hands behind his back just as he could manage speech again.

  "You...you attacked me...you...you fucker!" Leonard gasped out as he glared up at me. "You'll...you'll pay for this. My aunt is going to hear about this."

  "Yeah, I bet she will," I replied snidely as I leaned down to meet his eyes. "Go ahead and tell your aunt all about how you were assaulted by your attorney. She'll be all ears and believe every word you say. I'm sure you've never lied to her before." He was an addict. They all lied.

  He glared up at me some more. "I'll sue you!"

  "Sure you will, Leonard," I replied brightly with a smug grin. "Have your new lawyer contact my office. I'm sure they'll believe you too." I turned and walked out, his incoherent shouts of rage echoing behind me.

  **********

  The young woman's eyes began following me the instant I stepped off the elevator into the reception area of my father's law office, Caxton, Tierney, and West. I walked past the waiting area with its massive saltwater aquarium and expensive leather chairs, and went straight toward her and the reception desk she was manning. She smiled shyly up at me from her desk chair as she began nervously smoothing her blond hair in its bun.

  "Hello, Allison," I said warmly as I stopped at her desk and casually shoved my hands in my pants pockets. I rocked forward on my feet and threw a wide grin at her. Her eyes flashed down to my groin for a nanosecond and then her cheeks colored with a blush when she looked back up at my face.

  "Hello, Mr. Caxton," she replied politely, her voice a little breathy. Her hazel eyes dilated as she began blinking rapidly. She shifted on her chair. She was definitely aroused.

  I got this reaction from her every time I was here. It was some harmless fun, since she was completely off limits. She worked for my father after all, but I was just enough of an asshole to enjoy making her a little uncomfortable. Besides, I highly doubted she could handle my unorthodox preferences in bed anyway. Still, a dark part of me wanted to see how she'd react if she knew.

  "Is my father free yet?" I asked as I absently raked my eyes down her body. Her understated business suit couldn't hide her curves or her hardening nipples. She was pretty in an innocent way that made me wonder if her prim exterior hid something more untamed underneath. I'd never know, but it was hard not to wonder. Some of the wildest fucks I'd ever had were with a "quiet" woman that I never saw coming.

  "He's still with a client, but he should be finishing up soon, sir," she said with a nod. I stifled a sigh. If she only knew the things being called "sir" by a woman did to me.

  "Thanks." I placed a hand on her desk and leaned toward her. "What are your plans for the weekend, Allison?" I asked with a roguish grin. "Is some young man going to sweep you off your feet?"

  "I...um...uh..." she began uncomfortably as her blush deepened, and she broke our eye contact abruptly.

  "Gareth!" a familiar male voice called out irritably.

  I glanced over to my left to see my best friend Derek West approaching. He was a good-looking guy, as evident from the frequent admiring glances her garnered from women everywhere he went. He was the perfect mix of his African-American and Caucasian blood. He had his father's dark skin and strong jaw line, and his mother's piercing dark-green eyes. His black hair was closely cropped and along with his precisely cut beard and mustache, it lent him a sharp professional appearance. If he was single, he'd be my biggest competition. Thankfully, he was happily married.

  I smiled guilelessly at him, but he knew exactly what I was doing. His eyes held disapproval as he stopped next to me.

  "Come back to my office," he suggested strongly as he glared at me. "You can entertain me until your dad finishes up with his client."

  I glanced back at Allison. "See you later, Allison," I said kindly with a wink.

  She blushed again as Derek glowered at me. I shrugged in response and walked past him to go to his office. He followed close behind me down the hall, mumbling something about me being a pervert beneath his breath.

  We entered his office, and he shook his head at me. "Why do you always fuck with her like that?" he asked in exasperation. "Allison's a nice girl."

  "What?" I asked innocently. "It's just some harmless flirting."

  "There is nothing harmless about your flirting, Gareth," he said with a frown. "If you piss her off or hurt her, you'll be dealing with me." Derek was very protective of the women in his life. He had a serious case of White Knight Syndrome.

  "Please," I answered wryly as I waved a dismissing hand at him. "You can't take me. We've been sparring for years. I know all your moves."

  He crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow archly. "Then I'll sic Thea on you instead," he added smugly.

  I widened my eyes in what was only partially fake horror. Derek's wife of over thirteen years was my best friend too, but Thea was seriously terrifying when she was pissed. I'd been on the receiving end of it a few times myself, and now I avoided it like the plague. "Alright," I said in resignation. "I'll leave her alone next time."

  "No," he said with a grin. "You'll leave her alone, period."

  "Fine." I grinned back at him, both of us knowing I'd probably be at it again next week. I wouldn't be able to help myself.

  A soft knock interrupted us. I turned to see my father standing in the open doorway of Derek's office rapping his knuckles on the door frame.

  "Hey, boys," he announced with a warm smile. "May I come in?"

  Dad was always polite to a fault, even in the office he partly owned, and despite the fact that he was technically Derek's boss along with his partners, Carson West, who was Derek's father, and Jack Tierney. My father's law practice, Caxton, Tierney, and West, was a successful corporate law firm, and the three men had been close friends for several decades. Derek had chosen to follow in his father's footsteps when he joined the practice. I'd chosen another path that suited my type A personality better.

  "Hi, Dad," I grinned at my father.

  I was always happy to see him. He looked dapper today, in his navy pin-striped Giorgio Armani suit. He was tall, maybe an inch taller than my six-two height. He was a bit lankier than me, but I was unmistakably his son. His now graying thick hair was once a deep dark umber like mine. Our facial features were distinctly similar with our strong jaw lines and dark expressive brows. However, where Dad had kind brown eyes, mine were darker, intense, and not inherited from him at all.

  "Come in, sir," Derek said with a warm smile of his own.

  "Good afternoon, Derek." Dad smiled kindly at my best friend. Dad turned his gaze to me with soft eyes. "Are you ready for lunch, son?"

  "
Definitely," I answered wryly. "Nothing like a meth head to work up an appetite."

  Dad frowned for a moment. I knew my job as a criminal defense attorney troubled him. He never said anything, but I always saw it on his face. I couldn't blame him. I was his only child after all. That's why I never took my security lightly. I went to great lengths to protect myself. You could never be too careful when you routinely worked with criminals.

  "Let me get my coat," Dad said as his face relaxed again.

  I nodded and followed him. "Catch you later," I called to Derek as I walked out.

  We were soon riding along in the back of Dad's town car to lunch. It was our weekly tradition, and we'd been doing it for years. It was our chance to catch up and spend some time together in our busy schedules.

  "How's Victoria?" I asked him.

  He smiled as his eyes softened. "She's doing well."

  Dad had gotten married again almost two months ago after being a widow for over eight years. He was deliriously happy, and I was glad. He'd been alone for far too long. Now, he not only had a new wife, but he had also gained a bigger family for both of us. I now had a sister, a brother, and a nephew in addition to my stepmother, Victoria. It was a little overwhelming, but they were all good people.

  "She's very stressed out with Natalie's wedding on Saturday," he frowned worriedly. "She'll be much happier when this weekend is over."

  I suppressed a sigh. As much as I liked my new stepsister Natalie, the thought of going to a wedding didn't appeal to me at all. My feelings about marriage were strong and acutely jaded. A nasty divorce will do that to a man, and even after seven years my distaste for weddings hadn't ebbed. Even my father's wedding last December was uncomfortable for me. I stared out the window at the snow-covered streets with a frown. I'd be happier when this weekend was over too.

  "Are you bringing a date to the wedding?" Dad asked curiously.

  "No," I answered immediately. "I'm going stag."

 

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