Dominant's Rise [Dominant Focus 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  “Not so fast, sugar,” Zenn said, catching her arm in one warm hand as she moved to pass by him. The undertone of command in his voice caused a frisson of heat to move through her. “You said your piece. Now give me a chance to say something. I know Genessa and the whole Smith family. I’d like to help. I’m going to want a lot more information about this before I agree to dance up on a stage in front of everyone I grew up with, but I’m not saying no. I’d damn sure never be fool enough to turn down the chance to have you in my arms all night.”

  Anja was incensed and a little aroused at his words and his unanticipated touch. “Mr. Carder, you are entirely mistaken about my intentions if you think that—”

  “I mean dancing,” he interrupted. “The two of us communicating with our bodies. Let’s start right now.” His voice was calm, but his dark eyes were twinkling at his success in baiting her.

  Anja frowned repressively. “Yes, dancing,” she emphasized. “Do you dance? If not, I can teach you. I am considered a good teacher.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you can teach me all I need to know. About dancing,” he clarified with a smile when she opened her mouth to reprimand him. “I can dance with you if you keep it simple. On the football field, I was pretty light on my feet. I’m willing to follow your instructions until you decide to let me lead.”

  She chose to ignore that inflammatory statement. “Perhaps we will waltz, then. The waltz is a beautiful dance. You will need a tuxedo for this, if you agree.”

  “I’ve accepted a few awards in my time. I have a tux. And a few more questions.”

  She inclined her head. “Ask me your questions. I will answer them all, and perhaps then I can start to plan the dance program. I will require you for only one dance. My students will do most of the dance numbers, with Genessa featured in several solo spots, of course,” she said. “She is more than prepared and her talent is unmistakable.”

  Zenn blew out a breath. “Okay, first question. Anja, when you came to me today, you were too nervous to speak at first. Am I right?” When she nodded, he continued. “Okay, then how do you get up on stage and dance if you can’t even ask me a couple of questions? Isn’t that kind of nervousness a problem when you dance?”

  Anja arched her brow. He had the wrong idea but he was asking the right question. She tried to find the right words but they came slowly.

  “I am never nervous dancing. Dancing is my life and my passion in life. There is only excitement before a performance and emotion in the course of it. After the dance, there is joy. Yes, dancing is a joy to me.”

  She stopped for a moment, took her time to find the words to make him understand. She felt a surge of admiration for him when she realized that he was willing to wait for the rest of her answer. Listening was such a rare gift for a man to possess in this fast-paced world.

  “The stage is a perfect world. Nothing is shocking. It is dramatic and intense, but every move is plotted weeks and months in advance, every note of music, every second, every breath. Only real life is a problem. Words are a problem.”

  She sighed. “English is not my first, or even my second language. As a child, I was very shy and had difficulty with words, but I could always dance. I grew up mostly in Russia then moved to France to study ballet. As a teenager I moved again for ballet and I learned my English in New York.”

  Zenn nodded, his gaze unexpectedly intense. Then a thought seemed to occur to him and he grimaced. “If you learned to speak English in New York City, that guy who scratched your car last weekend was damn lucky you didn’t spend twenty minutes cursing him and his whole family tree. He was totally at fault.”

  Anja felt her face flushing again. “I did curse him just a little,” she admitted reluctantly, “but the young man does not speak Russian.”

  Zenn looked startled. He slapped his leg, then threw back his head and roared with laughter. The deep bass sound sent a shiver of delight chasing up her spine.

  “Good for you, honey,” he said when he had regained his composure. “What all did you call him?”

  “How did you know about that event?” Anja asked, evading the question.

  Zenn’s mouth twisted in a rueful smile.

  “I know Kyle. He used to work for me after school, in my first store. He felt like an ass. What I mean to say is he was very sorry about scratching your car. He knew it was his error that caused the damage. He said you were quite upset with him, but very polite about it. So, what did you call him, anyway?”

  “I am not about to repeat it.” Her tone was cool, discouraging. “It would not translate well in any case. In English some words are considered funny rather than properly insulting.”

  That set off Zenn’s laughter again and Anja bristled. He held up his hands in the universal signal of surrender.

  “Sorry, sugar, but the picture of you insulting him so politely that Kyle didn’t even know he was being cussed out is damn funny, you’ve got to admit. Man, my mother would love that. She’s from the state of Georgia originally, where good manners are everything.”

  His eyes were vivid with masculine amusement and it softened his hard face. She almost sighed. The man appealed to her on every level.

  Zenn was intelligent, strong, and so in control of himself and his surroundings that Anja found herself wanting to lay her head on his shoulder and just let him run things for a while. His strength was so incredibly compelling to her.

  Anja knew herself to be a strong ambitious woman. She had needed to be to succeed and create a name for herself on the international stage.

  None of her fellow dancers or business associates for the studio would ever say that she backed down on an issue, but some days it took a toll on her spirit. She just couldn’t fix every problem and help every person who needed it and still have the energy she required to perform to such a high level. She would never admit it out loud, but she didn’t want to be in charge all the time.

  She wanted to be able to relax, just sometimes, to give up control of her crazy life and let go of her daily fears and anxieties. She wanted to have a man in her life again, someone she could trust completely. Her feminine instincts said that Zenn was a man who could handle it if she did let go. More, that he would welcome it if she were to surrender that much of herself to him.

  She studied Zenn’s strong features, wondering at her strange reaction to him as a man. Anja felt the shock of connection ripple across her skin when his dark eyes locked with hers. The heated power of his gaze mesmerized her while her breath shortened and her pussy warmed. She couldn’t look away.

  He moved in so close to her that she could feel the warmth of his big body, smell the clean male scent of his skin. She whimpered in surrender just before his lips touched hers. A strong tingling sensation rocked her as he brushed his lips back and forth over hers. Her nipples peaked in a shocking rush.

  Slipping through her hair, one big hand cradled the back of her head while he seduced her mouth with subtle skill. His other hand slid down to delicately roll one stiff nipple. Her senses narrowed to the simple points of connection, his mouth and hands, until black spots swam behind her eyes. It was everything a kiss should be and had never been before.

  “Breathe,” he said roughly, pulling back a little. “Anja, breathe for me.”

  He leaned in again and covered her mouth with his. The contact wasn’t soft this time. Parting her lips with a quick sideways movement, he settled in for a lengthy carnal possession with lips and tongue. He skipped the usual teasing and devoured in a rhythm that lured her until she was blindly following the hungry motions of his mouth.

  Her pussy rippled and clenched and she shifted her hips against his hard thigh, searching for some relief from her own extreme reactions.

  He gripped her wrists and dragged them behind her back to hold both in one big hand. The action rubbed the tips of her sensitive breasts against his hard chest, and Anja moaned at the flood of sensation that speared through her. Zenn continued to enjoy her mouth, demanding her surrender with every
luscious movement.

  She had never been restrained during a kiss before, and couldn’t have predicted the flash of luxurious heat that welled up inside her.

  Zenn’s tongue flicked and swirled inside her mouth and he pinched her nipple between strong fingers while his other hand put pressure on her wrists. One muscular thigh shoved between her trembling legs.

  Her body bowed and knees buckled as a sharp orgasm swept through her. She gasped and sagged in his arms, and he growled as he moved to support her weight. He kept her wrists locked in his hand and dragged her body in closer to his.

  Dazed, she looked up into his flushed face. Anja wondered if he would push her onto her back and cover her body with his. Her back arched and her skin rippled with goose bumps. Something of her thoughts must have shown in her face, because Zenn’s dark eyes heated. He had his hand up her skirt and was lowering her to the desktop when the door opened.

  “Knock, damn it!” Zenn snarled, and the door closed again with a loud bang, but the mood was broken.

  “Fuck.” He released her wrists and took a step back.

  Anja wobbled on unsteady legs, and he reached out to stabilize her then drew his hands away quickly as if her skin burned him. The expression on his face was unreadable. She gazed up into his eyes, looking for reassurance, and he looked away.

  She had climaxed so easily for him, was still on fire for him, but he didn’t even want to touch her now? He hadn’t taken his own satisfaction. Was she too easy, too eager? Did her obvious willingness seem so repulsive to him that he would reject her when he was still standing high and hard with need?

  “Zenn?” Her voice sounded thin in her own ears.

  He didn’t respond, just ran both hands through his hair. His muscles were tight, almost vibrating with pent-up energy, but his eyes when he looked at her were distant.

  Her heart sank. Where was the fire he had shown to her?

  He sighed. “Anja, I’m sorry, I didn’t bring you into my office for this. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “No!” she cried. She didn’t want to hear that he was sorry for touching her, sorry for giving her such a mouthwatering taste of pleasure.

  She pushed past him, dodging his hands, hurrying down the corridor and out into his store. She could hear his heavy steps behind her, but she ignored his repeated commands to stop.

  She just couldn’t bear to look at his face and see in his eyes that he didn’t want her. By the time she was past the startled customers and out into the street, she was almost running.

  Chapter 3

  Zenn stopped and watched from the sidewalk as Anja ran across the busy street and into her studio. Maybe she would calm down now that she was in a familiar setting, on her own turf.

  Damn it, he had an absolute talent for destroying a beautiful moment. He should never have trapped her wrists like that. She was responding so magnificently to his touch and then he had to go and screw it up by restraining her, dominating her. Thank God he pulled back when he did, or she would have been screaming and calling him names just like the ones Catherine had shrieked at him on their tragic tropical honeymoon.

  “She’s incredible.”

  Zenn whipped his head around. He was surprised to see his business partner standing beside him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Nevada.”

  Max ignored the question. He tilted his shaggy silver head and observed Zenn. “There was a time I would have called you a smooth operator. Mr. Smooth.”

  Zenn scowled. “Shouldn’t you be at Dominant Focus, checking the whip inventory or something?”

  Max’s other business interest was a high-class sex shop that catered to a diverse and open-minded clientele. It also boasted custom leatherwork and a very discreet mail-order division. Max was justifiably proud of it.

  “What the hell, Zenn? What did you do to the girl to make her run like that?”

  Zenn held on to his temper and kept his mouth shut. He had no intention of answering a question like that, especially from Max Keller. Max loved to draw him out and he wasn’t falling for it this time.

  “No comment? If you’re finished with her, then you won’t mind if I step in. With those sweet eyes, I could train her as my new sub in no time. Or maybe you’d like to share? She’d be—delicious.” His tone was thoughtful, but there was an undercurrent of heat that Zenn recognized.

  “Stay the hell away from her!”

  When Max just smirked at him, Zenn bared his teeth, angry with himself for taking the bait.

  “She’s not for the likes of you,” Zenn gritted, “so just back the fuck off. She’s not a submissive woman. Those games aren’t for a woman like her. And what do you mean you’re looking for a new sub? What the hell happened to Andrea?”

  As usual, Max ignored the questions put to him in favor of giving Zenn a hard time.

  “That woman who just ran from you is a beautiful natural submissive. If you can’t see that, you must be—” Max stopped and stared. “You’re not still hanging on to that insane idea of denying your Dominant nature? It’s been two years since the divorce. In fact, the divorce negotiations lasted longer than the marriage did.” Max sounded incredulous.

  Zenn gritted his teeth, but refrained from commenting. Some days he couldn’t believe it either and he was trying to live it. But the alternative was impossible.

  Anyone else, and he would tell the guy where to get off, but Max was a good friend. In fact, Max was the only friend, not counting his brother, who had stuck by him during the divorce and after, when the rumors Catherine had started about his “sexual eccentricities” had hounded him through the media. Those rumors had destroyed his enjoyment of his final year of professional football. It got so bad near the end that even the legitimate reporters and sportscasters were talking about his sexual life as if it was a newsworthy topic, right up there with passes, tackles, and trophies.

  When the rest of Zenn’s life went to hell, Max had been steadfast, but that didn’t mean Zenn wanted to have this conversation with him yet again.

  Max always made being a Dominant sound so reasonable and sane when Zenn knew from experience that it was anything but a natural impulse. The urge to dominate his woman in every way had destroyed his marriage and caused his gentle young wife to hate him. It had been a pure disaster to give in to his Dominant desire and he fought it with everything in him every single day.

  “Cut me a break why don’t you, and just tell me why you’re here.”

  Max crossed his arms over his chest. “I came to the store for a new tennis racket, but a new submissive would be much more entertaining. I need to keep up my conditioning. Think of the hours and hours of full-body physical exercise that gorgeous creature would provide. Did you see those lovely smooth legs?”

  When Zenn just growled, Max shook his head.

  “Fine, I’ll take home the tennis racket instead. But don’t expect me to be happy about it.” Max winked at him and sauntered into the store just when Zenn wanted to bash his friend’s head against the newly placed board siding. Max always did have a fantastic sense of timing.

  * * * *

  Anja hurried in the front door of her studio and veered left into the empty rehearsal room. Luckily Ellen was on the phone, or she never would have made it without a well-meaning inquisition. She just couldn’t face the thought of admitting to Ellen what had happened with Zenn Carder.

  She shut the door, kicked off her shoes, and peeled off her stockings and garters. She deliberately avoided the wall of mirrors. She didn’t need to see her reflection to know that the desperate needs of her heated body showed on her face for all to see.

  Choosing a CD was easy. Modern experimental jazz would match the jangled state of her nerves perfectly. She could wear off some of the pent-up energy caused by Zenn’s talented hands and wicked mouth and lose herself in the physical intricacies of the dance.

  When the world was unkind, Anja danced. She could use her talent, dance until she forgot the pain of constant
unfulfilled needs, the ache in her lonely heart, and the sharp sting of Zenn’s shocking rebuff. At the end of it, she would be physically exhausted, but she would leave any embarrassment and anxiety behind like drops of sweat when she walked off the dance floor and into a steaming shower.

  Life would go on as if Zenn’s kiss had never happened.

  The music rippled to life in the room, and she turned up the volume before starting into the series of gentle, rhythmic stretches that led her muscles and her spirit into a state of performance readiness. And then she danced.

  Gradually, through the length of the CD, as the music climbed to a crescendo and her body whirled to full muscle extension, her mind quieted under the rigorous demands of her art.

  Only when she was breathing hard and feeling the first stirrings of thirst did she punch the button to turn the music off. She grabbed a fresh towel for her face and walked to the tiny fridge to get a bottle of cool, not ice-cold, water. She had hoped the disciplined energetic outlet would rid her of the deep physical craving for Zenn Carder.

  The searing feminine fire he had awakened in her was banked for the time being, but she didn’t fool herself into thinking that she was safe. Her disobedient body still wanted him.

  * * * *

  Zenn argued with himself for over an hour before finally giving in and crossing the street. He had to apologize to Anja. Then, if she wanted to call him names or curse him in Russian, she could do it face to face and he would stand there and take it until she got it out of her system.

  He owed her that at least after the way he had behaved. He had no real excuse, except that she made his cock twitch and swell until his fabled self-control disappeared. Even an ex-Dom with a hard-on like a baseball bat should have better manners.

  And if his single-minded inner caveman insisted that she would forgive him if only he would tie her up and torture her into another sweet orgasm or two or three, he tried not to encourage it.