Page 8 of Filthy Dirty Dom
“Here you go, Devin,” David said, removing her cloak from around her shoulders and adding his overcoat to the pile. He handed the man a twenty.
“Thank you, Dr. Martinez,” Devin said, then disappeared into the cloak room.
Yet another employee who recognized David. This time, she was about to ask him how many times he’d been here when a woman with a nametag identifying her as Anya approached. She was dressed in a black latex dress cut to her crotch and showing her ass cheeks, with a black leather belt that had swinging leather strands mimicking a cat o’nine tails.
A flash of memory came of Leslie looking through her neighbor’s window, visible only from her bedroom, the window unobstructed by the blinds or curtains that normally covered it. On that night, her neighbor’s dom wielded a cat o’nine tails over her naked body. At fifteen, Leslie had witnessed a lot of things through her window that looked directly into her neighbor’s bedroom, yet the most shocking thing of all had been when her neighbor and her dom had caught her looking, locked eyes on her, and instead of drawing the curtains closed, went right back to what they were doing. Now, she knew how twisted and wrong that was. Not because they were into being watched but because she’d been an underage kid. But then? She’d enjoyed watching. For a long time, that had haunted her. Shamed her. She’d thought she was a freak. It was only after Leslie had done more research into the BDSM lifestyle and talked to the therapist her mother Bunny had hired once she’d discovered the extent of Leslie’s father’s abuse, that Leslie had begun to accept that such fantasies and interests were normal for some and nothing to be ashamed of.
Thank goodness Bunny had picked a therapist for her that was open minded and accepting. If she hadn’t, Leslie might have been scarred for life. Still, it was only in the past year that she’d started thinking about doing something about her fantasies—and mostly, she knew, that was because she’d heard rumors that Alex was into BDSM and kink.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Anya asked, holding up an electronic notepad.
“Whisky sour for us both,” David said.
Irritation buzzed through Leslie. No matter how often she told him she preferred to order her own drink and food, David continued to do it for her. “Make that a dirty martini for me. The dirtier, the better,” Leslie said.
Anya wrote down the order on the notepad, then slipped off, leaving them alone. They stepped deeper into the club. Leslie turned her head.
Wow.
There, right in front of Leslie, a woman dressed in a black lace crotchless bodysuit bent over for a young man ready to spank her with a cat o’nine tails.
And for just a flash in time, Leslie imagined it was her that was bent over, and Alex wielding the whip.
4
The scotch in Alex’s hand had turned warm long ago, but he didn’t ask the bartender for another. Instead, he contemplated how best to get away from the blonde next to him. He’d come here tonight in the hopes of finding a woman to fuck. A woman who was into the same things he was into: domination and submission, bondage and voyeurism, pleasure and pain. A woman who could finally make him get a hard on for someone other than Leslie Duke–the same woman whom he’d kissed and touched intimately for the very first time during the Thanksgiving holiday and now, almost two months later, had taken over his thoughts and fantasies to such a degree that he couldn’t fuck another woman.
Not to say he’d been asexual.
He jerked off plenty, but he hadn’t had a woman since he’d had Leslie’s throat under his hand. Somehow, it just didn’t feel right. Leslie had wormed her way into his psyche so deep he had yet to find a way out.
He’d thought tonight would be the night he could finally let her go. When the gorgeous blonde sidled up to him and begun flirting, he’d been encouraged by the twitch of his cock. But the fucker hadn’t moved since. He wasn’t interested.
Instead, his mind wandered once again to last November in Montana and how, after he’d made her come and the guilt had started to flood in, he’d leaned down to gather her into his arms, hugging her close as she trembled.
* * *
She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. He stroked her hair for a long time before he finally stood up and pulled the blankets around her to keep her warm. “You did good, baby. So good. But I can’t do this. Let me go. Embrace the sun in you and live the brilliant life you’re meant to.”
When he’d dressed and headed toward the bedroom door, she’d called out, “I won’t give you up, Alex. Because I know you want me, too.”
He took a deep breath then turned to face her. “You’re wrong, Leslie. I want to fuck you. I want to drag you into the dark and get you filthy. But I respect your brother too much to do it. And I don’t want to hurt you but I know I will. Because darkness might like to play with the light occasionally, but it always, always moves on to its own kind eventually.”
* * *
“You sure you don’t want to go into the spanking room?”
Alex jerked when the voice interrupted his memories and he almost growled with irritation at the blonde next to him, who continued speaking. “I like to bend over and take it hard. You can slap me with a whip until I bleed. Call me a cunt while you do it. Tell me I’m a filthy, bad girl. Yell at me that I’m unworthy and don’t deserve you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, tiger?” She dangled a key out in front of him. “I already reserved one of the rooms. You want me, don’t you?”
No, he didn’t. This wasn’t the first time she’d tried to tell him what to do, even after he told her he was a dominant. And she didn’t seem to get that not all doms were into degradation or wanted to inflict it on a total stranger. No matter. He didn’t fault her for trying. Everyone was into their own kink; they just had to find the person who was into the same thing.
“Sorry, I’m heading out,” he said. “But let me buy you another drink before I leave.” He glanced up at the bartender and gestured for Ian to get the woman another drink but Alex put his hand over his own. Time for him to pack it in.
He was about to close out his tab when he froze. Something had caught his attention.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed.
Leslie was here.