Here is the 1st chapter of The Dom with the Dragon Tattoo
The Dom with the Dragon Tattoo is available from Bookstrand HERE
“May I take your bag, sir?”
“That won’t be necessary, thanks.”
Tyler Stone followed the gently swaying butt and billowing chestnut curls of the attractive young woman. It pleased him that the Corinthian Hotel employed bellhops of both sexes. He much preferred the female variety, especially as it gave him the opportunity to check out a shapely ass. The five-star hotel in downtown Boston certainly lived up to the hype and had been open less than a year. Expensive Italian marble lined the walls and floors, giving the thoroughly modern building an air of old-world opulence.
He just had time to breathe in her perfume before she stopped abruptly in the corridor. The pretty lady turned and smiled at him, showing her perfect white teeth. “This is your suite, Mr. Stone.” She deftly scanned the security key, and the door obediently clicked open a few inches.
He followed her inside and glanced, uninterested, at the tastefully decorated interior. In his line of work he got to stay in all manner of hotels. Even the high-end ones like the Corinthian were much of a muchness. They left him cold. So exactly what did he get for three thousand bucks a night? Well, he got plenty of room, including a separate living area, and all the latest technology such as Wi-Fi, widescreen TV, and a well-stocked minibar. The usual stuff.
The attractive, chestnut-haired girl waited expectantly as he briefly looked around. “Is everything satisfactory, sir?”
“Hmm, it’s fine. What’s your name, honey?”
“You been working here long?”
“A few months, Mr. Stone.”
Tyler glanced at his new surroundings one more time. “Uh-huh. I see.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his wallet. Then, taking out a fifty-dollar bill, he handed it to the girl. “There you go, honey.” He figured she worked for a low wage, and it was worth fifty bucks just to see that beautiful smile of hers.
Her cute mouth formed the perfect O as he pressed the crisp bill into her tiny hand. “Thank you, Mr. Stone, that’s very generous of you. If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”
“I will, honey. You can count on it.”
Left alone, Tyler tossed his overnight bag on the bed then dragged his fingers through his hair. He’d been working sixteen-hour days for the last six months, and that king-size bed sure looked inviting.
Resisting the urge to rest, he moved to the living area with its luxurious seating and huge flat-screen TV. A suite of rooms might be considered an indulgence, but what the hell, he was here on business, so it was all tax deductible.
Cerberus Technology, the company he’d built from nothing, was known around the globe. Now, thanks to the determination and brilliance of his young team of software specialists, his company supplied the US military with state-of-the-art operating systems. He took pride in the fact that his systems boasted safeguards that made them almost impossible to hack into.
Of course, his competitors and enemies from abroad were constantly upgrading their own systems, systems that could be used to undermine the national security of the United States. He was determined to stay one step ahead of the game, which was why he was here in Boston.
He opened his briefcase and flicked through the file on Rebecca Miles—the reason he’d flown halfway across the US.
With her brilliant mind she could name her price, but so far she’d refused to even speak to him. She was never available by phone, her only response being a curt e-mail letting him know she wasn’t interested in his proposition. He considered Rebecca Miles the best software engineer in the US, possibly even the world, and he’d been trying to get her to join his company for over a year now.
Her photograph was pinned to the front of the file. “Huh.” She didn’t look like a laugh a minute. In fact, the dreary image made her look exactly as he imagined a thirty-three-year-old software designer to look. Unkempt brown hair aggressively pulled back from her face made her look stern and uninviting. Brown eyes without the slightest hint of a smile ever having reached them stared back at him with unmoved detachment. He figured that was why she wore such thick-rimmed glasses. Was she a brilliant intellectual?
Undoubtedly. Was she also a sad geek? He didn’t know for sure, but he guessed she probably was. Whatever, Rebecca Miles was obviously a woman who was far more interested in her work than she was in her appearance.
Tyler shrugged. What did that matter to him? He was only interested in her genius. Reliable sources informed him that she was in the process of developing a revolutionary form of password protection, something that could dramatically transform his future business. There was no doubt in his mind that Rebecca Miles would be a major asset to Cerberus Technology.
He was ready to admit defeat when a couple of weeks ago he received an e-mail suggesting they meet for lunch, provided he took the time to fly to Boston. Fly to Boston? Who the hell does this woman think she is? They finally agreed on a business lunch tomorrow at this very hotel. After a last glance at the unappealing face in the picture, he returned her portfolio to his briefcase. As he slid it under the couch for safekeeping, his fingers brushed against something small and unfamiliar, and he pulled out a shiny black booklet of matches.
“Jesus Christ, I’m staying in a three thousand dollar-a-night suite, and the goddamn cleaners don’t even check under the sofa.”
Tyler figured it was the bumpy four-hour flight from Houston to Boston that made him irritated, but what the hell, kicking ass was therapeutic, especially as he’d been without a sub for well over a month now. Spanking Lucy had been a good way of letting off steam, until they’d slowly drifted apart after four years together.
Feeling pissed, he grabbed the phone and dialed reception. Fucking hell, is it too much to expect the room to be cleaned properly? As he curiously studied the attractive matchbook, a flash of gold rippled across the black glossy surface, catching his eye. He looked closer, and the italicized words “Club Submission” finally made him disconnect the call. Intrigued now, he placed the phone back in its cradle and studied the matchbook more closely. “Club Submission, huh. Interesting.”
Maybe he’d give them a call and go check the joint out. He needed to wind down, and Club Submission seemed his type of place.
Tyler eased himself onto the last available stool and made the bartender aware he wanted another shot of Jack Daniel’s. While he waited, he glanced around the crowded room. The whole place heaved with life and vitality, everywhere from the packed stage with its provocative, erotic dancers to the numerous revelers enjoying the masquerade ball. The atmosphere created at Club Submission impressed Tyler. It reminded him of one back home in Houston, where he was a regular. He liked the way the club was split off into zones. The Warm Zone, where the bar was situated, was just that—a place for customers to warm up before things turned serious and the action moved to the Hot Zone. He studied this new environment more closely. Subdued lighting was complemented by interesting sexual murals, which decorated the walls. It was a tidy setup, allowing excellent views of the raised platform complete with a slave cage, holding a scantily clad submissive or two.
He’d never believed in coincidence, but the very night he was here in Boston on business, Club Submission was holding a masquerade party. Once the management had checked his ID, they’d encouraged him to come along and enjoy the evening. The only requirement being that he joined in and wore a costume. After he made a quick call to hotel reception, they managed to find him a sultan’s outfit, complete with pantaloons, turban, and matching waist sash, along with a mock beard and sinister black mask. Full marks to the Corinthian Hotel. The flamboyant costume was delivered to his suite within the hour. He guessed that word had gotten around that he gave good tips. Well, as the saying went, money talks.
“Same again?” the bartender asked.
“Yeah, thanks, Todd.” He’d been here for some two hours now, enjoying the show, and as with any private club, he’d picked up a lot from the guy behind the bar. Apparently, the two brothers who owned and managed the club were a pair of great guys. According to Todd they went by the names of Matt and Ethan Strong. Because tonight was party night, Club Submission was hosting demonstrations by a few trusted Masters and Mistresses. Shibari, bull whipping, and tips on training a new sub were all on the agenda. It was a way of introducing new members to the lifestyle without putting any pressure on them.
With an early start tomorrow, Tyler was happy to sit back and enjoy the show. In fact, merely watching the act of submission was a very erotic and pleasurable experience for all involved. There’d already been a display by a couple heavily into bondage, and his cock had hardened as he’d observed a Master demonstrating Shibari, a form of Japanese rope bondage, on a beautiful and willing girl. The Dom in charge didn’t perform the ancient technique quite as he would have done. Nevertheless, it was great seeing the web of ropes slowly tighten around the young woman’s lissome body.
He’d give it another hour or so then return to his hotel. Tyler felt relaxed, more relaxed than when he’d arrived in Boston some five hours ago.
When a tall, sexy woman wearing the most amazing perfume stood beside him, he couldn’t resist letting his gaze travel the seemingly never-ending length of her incredible stocking-clad legs. She looked good enough to eat, from her towering black stilettos to her gorgeous ass cheeks, gloriously naked save for the thinnest leather G-string he’d ever seen. Unable to tear his eyes from this vision of femininity, he drank in the sensual curve of her perfect breasts, which lay naked beneath the shortest leather jacket in history. Where the hell is her skirt? Thick, lustrous, dark-brown hair cascaded over her shoulders. He loved the way it swayed harmoniously from side to side as she moved her head.
Tyler licked his lips and cleverly adjusted his position on the barstool, well aware that a raging hard-on threatened to poke through the satin of his Ali Baba trousers.
Perhaps sensing his discomfort, a smile graced her full, luscious lips before she turned in his direction. “Like what you see?” It was a pity she wore a gold mask, because he figured her face would be as beautiful as her body.
He almost had to lip read, because he could barely hear anything above the pandemonium in the room. “Oh, yeah, you bet, honey.”
“Nice tattoo, by the way, mister.”
Sensing her interest, he leaned in closer, enjoying her unique feminine smell, then whispered in her ear, “If you were my sub, I’d spank you for being so provocative.”
She tossed back her head and laughed. Her teeth were perfect, too, not a filling in sight. She playfully wagged a finger at him. “Mmm, I might like that, but I’m not your sub, so you can’t.” She turned abruptly from him and called across the bar, “Hey, Todd, I’m running late. Take care of my purse.”
“Sure thing, Dana.” Todd took it from her, and then she was gone, swaying that sexy ass of hers as she slowly made her way toward the raised, revolving stage.
“Who’s the lady?” Tyler eventually inquired when he was finally able to drag his eyes from her tight butt.
Todd laughed. “She does seem to have that effect on guys.” He slid another shot of whiskey across the bar. “That’s Dana. She’s one of the erotic dancers.”
“Uh-huh. I see. Then she’s not a sub.”
The barman smiled knowingly. “You might not believe it, but she’s a sub all right. Just a very choosy one. Dana was a sub to one of the Masters here, but for one reason or another they split up a while ago. She hasn’t had another Master since. Like I say, Dana’s a real choosy girl, and with her looks she can afford to be.”
Tyler wistfully shook his head. “Too bad I’m flying back to Houston tomorrow.” He took a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to the bartender. “Thanks for a great evening, Todd. Have a drink on me, and when she’s finished gyrating on the stage, get one for the pretty lady, too. I like a sub with some spirit.”
“Fifty bucks, thank you, sir. You leaving us already?”
“Afraid so. Got an important business meeting tomorrow.” He stood and stretched out his hand. “Hope to see you again, buddy.”
Todd shook his hand. “You, too, sir, and thanks again.”
Tyler scooped his drink from the bar and made his way to the raised stage. The provocatively dressed woman was dancing suggestively on the revolving turntable, employing the slave cage as part of her sexy routine. He watched her for a while, fascinated by the way she contorted her body into unbelievable shapes. As she gyrated, the tiny leather jacket she wore spread open, revealing her beautiful naked breasts with their achingly tight pink nipples. Tyler took a slug of Jack Daniel’s, enjoying the scene unfolding before him.
He figured the sexy act had made her overheat, because she briefly stopped dancing and removed her golden mask. Tyler watched her dab away the perspiration with a towel. He was right, her face was as beautiful as her body. She then lowered the mask again and continued her routine.
Maybe she sensed his presence, because for a brief moment the most vivid blue eyes he’d ever seen stared back at him. He felt as though a connection had been made. Tyler smiled and raised his glass to her. He then took a final slug of the amber warmer and placed the empty glass on the nearest table before making his way from the club. As he pushed his way through the pulsing energy of a hundred happy people, he removed his mask. The fucking thing was making him hot, too, or was it the beautiful, seductive woman dancing on the stage that really had the blood rushing through his veins?
He turned one final time and watched the sexy lady still in command of her audience. Yeah, Club Submission was a great place, and he was glad he’d come.
Available from Bookstrand HERE