Not Your Damn Dom (Denial Book 2) Read online

  “Wouldn’t be trying to knock you out. But I can get a friend who’s more your size in here if it’d make you more comfortable.”

  The idea of inviting someone else to share our private sessions struck me as inexplicably taboo. Maybe it was just my hormones, but I couldn’t bear the idea. “No. I trust you. Plus, how am I gonna knock you on your ass if I’m not fighting you?”

  That flicker of a smile again. “Did I hit you too hard? I think I might have knocked something loose in your brain.”

  I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Pride comes before a fall.” I stretched my arms over my head, testing my muscles. “So what’s next? More hitting things?”

  “Working on your muscle definition.” He got to his feet easily and held out a hand.

  His palm against mine, his warm, strong fingers curving around my hand… Electricity surged through me at the contact, even more so when he pulled me up off the floor without waiting for me to brace myself with my other arm first. God, he was strong. He could probably carry me up a flight of stairs at a run, then lower me onto his bed and pin me to the mattress with his hard body…

  For a moment our eyes met, and I was certain he knew exactly what I was thinking. But before I could decide on my approach, he dropped my hand and moved away.

  Every damn time I thought I could wriggle past his defences and get a handle on what he was really thinking…

  Sighing, I followed him back through to the gym. “You’re gonna make me lift weights again, aren’t you?”

  “How’d you guess?”

  I didn’t bother to answer the rhetorical question. “You’re a slave-driver.”

  His only answer was a grunt that could have meant anything. If I had to choose between his stonewalling and the weights, I’d go for the weights.

  * * * *

  Alex

  I met Callum for lunch at a tiny restaurant around the corner from the studio we were both filming at this week. We were both at the stage in our careers where the odd person might recognise us, but we wouldn’t get mobbed, so eating in public without a security detail was fine for us. All that was about to change for Callum, who’d landed a high-profile recently and was bracing himself for a media tornado around him. If Walk on Glass was a success, I wouldn’t be far behind him.

  I’d dined with friends who were a lot more high-profile, and I secretly hoped I’d become more of a cult actor—with die-hard fans, but virtually no media interest around me.

  “I need so much chocolate right now,” I told Callum as I sat down.

  He laughed. “Did you clear that with your personal trainer?”

  “My arms feel like limp noodles. What Spencer doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” And I needed some comfort dessert while I was still so confused about the man.

  “Your funeral if he finds out.” He handed me a menu.

  I skimmed the main courses, avoiding the dessert section for now. I needed some protein to build up my muscles—that meant chicken or fish, not cheesecake or tiramisu. “I hate to get childish, but he’s not the boss of me.”

  Callum’s silence made me glance up. He was analysing me and not bothering to be subtle about it, and I frowned, raising the menu a little higher. “Wow, you’re not usually this judgemental about what I do or what I eat. What’s the problem?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not that. Just wondering if I’m sensing a little hostility between you two.”

  I concentrated on my food selection, deciding on chicken rather than seafood. The waitress came over to take our orders, and confiscated our menus at the same time. Not that I needed to hide behind it…but I wasn’t used to being off-balance with guys and I didn’t like it.

  “Speak,” Callum prompted when we were alone again.

  I leaned back in my chair and sighed. “It’s not that I don’t like him. The opposite, actually. You never told me he was hotter than hell.”

  Callum looked amused. “My girlfriend tells me I’m hotter.”

  “Like you need the reassurance, Mr. Rising Star 2014.” It was a cheap jab at a recent embarrassment, but I couldn’t resist. “No, what was it? The number one spot on some magazine’s ‘Hottest Actors You Haven’t Heard Of Yet’ list? They should really have come up with a snappier name for the award.”

  “Just stop, okay?” Callum levelled a stern look at me. “You think I should have told you Spencer was your type. I get it.”

  I decided against asking what his girlfriend thought of the article and turned my attention back to the topic at hand. “He’s exactly my type. But he’s so hard to read! What’s his type? Do I have a chance?”

  He hesitated. “You’re not his usual type…but I know for a fact he likes you.”

  My heart jumped. “Likes as in ‘let’s be best buddies’, or likes as in—”

  “He wants you.”

  Heat rushed between my legs at the blunt statement, but I did my best to keep the arousal from showing on my face. “You’ve talked about me with him?”

  Callum leaned over the table, speaking quietly but with intensity. “The only reason I’m telling you this is because I know how stubborn he can be. He’s… He has some issues, and he’s already decided you’re off limits ‘cause he wants to protect you from them. But if anyone can wear him down, you can.”

  Was that a compliment or an insult? I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask. “What kind of issues?”

  Callum shook his head. “I’m not gonna talk about him behind his back. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you.”

  I bit down on my irritation until after the waitress had served our food and retreated again. Then I let it loose. “I need to know what I’m getting into, Callum. If he has issues with alcohol or anger management or something like that, something with the ability to really affect me negatively, I need to back away.”

  He speared a piece of potato with his fork, frowning. “It’s nothing like that. You’re a friend too; I’d never try to hook you up with someone who’d drag you down. I actually think you’d be good for each other.”

  I breathed out slowly, letting my anxiety out with it. “Okay. Sorry.”

  “Eat,” he reminded me. “You have to be on set before I do. How’s the filming going?”

  I wasn’t sure I liked the change of subject, but at least I was more likely to focus on my food if the topic of conversation wasn’t Spencer. While I ate, I told Callum about the blood-and-guts B-movie I was filming at the moment. I only had a couple of scenes left to film, one of them being my death scene. I was kind of looking forward to that—I hadn’t ever had to pretend to die before.

  “Try not to get too much corn syrup in your hair,” Callum told me, grinning. “It takes forever to come out.”

  I grimaced. “Hazard of the job, I guess. Maybe I’ll just cut it out, go short for a while if the director for Walk on Glass is okay with it. It’d definitely help reduce the time I spent getting my hair fussed over on set.”

  “Unless you’re going military-short, don’t be too sure.” Callum gestured to his own hair. “The hair and makeup people are constantly buzzing around me. Kat says they just want an excuse to touch me.”

  Laughing, I nudged the last mouthful of risotto onto my fork. “You’re gonna get a big head if you keep listening to her. Especially when you start that big role you just hooked. All the runners will be fawning over you on set.”

  “Four weeks until I start shooting.” He actually looked nervous. “I just hope it goes smoothly.”

  I could relate. My next role was almost as high-profile as Callum’s. “Just under three weeks until I start mine. I’m scared I won’t be able to remember my fight choreography.”

  “Spence will be there to coach you through it. He’s easy to work with.”

  I snorted. “But then I’ll be so focused on him that I’ll forget my lines.”

  Callum grinned. “Been there, done that. Not with Spencer,” he added hastily.

  The waitress came over for our plates and asked about dessert. I almost t
ook her hand off reaching for the menu she offered—I was only two days into the intensive workout program, but I was seriously hungry all the time. And anyway, it wasn’t like I wouldn’t be working off the calories.

  Callum abstained from dessert. Watching me dig into the huge piece of chocolate fudge cake in front of me, he told me, “Don’t worry; I won’t tell him.”

  “If he comes down on my ass about it, I’ll know where he found out from,” I warned, and spooned the first piece into my mouth along with a sliver of vanilla ice cream. Mmmm… Heaven!

  “So are you gonna make a move on him?” Callum raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Need help coming up with a plan?”

  Thinking of my fantasy of claiming my ‘prize’ after knocking him onto his ass on the sparring mat, I smiled. “I think I have it covered.” Though unless I get really lucky, I think I’ll need a plan B.

  Callum grinned. “I almost feel sorry for the guy. When you get that look on your face, you’re unstoppable.”

  I hoped he was right. Spencer looked strong enough to stop pretty much anything.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Spencer

  The bedroom was dark and quiet until the door creaked partially open, admitting a slice of light from the landing. A feminine figure blocked some of the glare, standing in the doorway for a moment before coming in. She didn’t bother to shut the door behind her, leaving just enough light to see by.

  I knew before she spoke that it was Alex. I’d spent so long studying her petite shape while she worked out that it was imprinted on my memory.

  Although she’d never been naked during those times. She was now.

  “Do you want me, Spencer?”

  I sat up in bed, glad the blanket hid my rapidly growing hard-on. I wasn’t even wearing pants, for God’s sake. “Alex, what are you doing here?”

  She stopped at the end of the bed, half of her face and body still in shadow, the other half illuminated by the landing light. “I want you.”

  I couldn’t speak, knowing I couldn’t lie to her, but that the truth would lead us down the road to disaster.

  She pulled at the end of the blanket before I realised what she was doing, yanking it off the bed and leaving me exposed to her gaze. Now there was no need to answer her. She could see exactly how much I desired her.

  With a soft, seductive laugh, Alex got onto her hands and knees on the bed, crawled slowly up it, her appreciative gaze on my cock as her face passed within an inch of it. When she stopped, her lips perilously close to mine and her cunt hovering over my hard, throbbing dick, I groaned under my breath.

  “All you have to do is kiss me, and you can take anything you want from me. Everything you want.”

  As though moving of their own accord, my hands slid over her hips, up her sides, around to her voluptuous breasts. Her nipples were hard pebbles against my palms, just begging to be bitten and squeezed.

  “Fuck,” I whispered as she arched into the touch, her movement making her lower her hips so that her hot, wet cunt brushed my cock. “Alex…”

  “Please,” she begged, her breathing unsteady. “Please, Sir, kiss me. Take me. Make me yours.”

  I couldn’t control myself. Grabbing the back of her neck with one hand, I pulled her face down to mine, taking her lips hard, bucking up against her cunt as I gripped her ass with my free hand, grinding her down over me.

  She gave a satisfied cry against my lips, surrendering to my tongue in her mouth, my cock gliding through her juices as she rubbed her clit against it. Powerful need surged through me and I rolled her over, taking the dominant position on top of her without breaking the kiss. I pinned her wrists over her head with one hand, reached down with the other to guide my cock deep inside her.

  She gasped when I breached her cunt, trembling against me, impossibly hot and tight. I worked deeper with gradually increasing thrusts until I couldn’t sink into her wet heat any farther. It was only then that we broke our kiss, making eye contact, the connection just as intimate as the interlocking of our bodies.

  “You want more?” I pinched one of her nipples hard, harder until her inner muscles squeezed around my cock. “You want me to fuck you?”

  “Hard,” she pleaded, her voice breathless. “Hurt me until I come, Sir.”

  With a low growl of approval, I withdrew and drove back into her—

  The alarm clock on my nightstand shattered the dream, leaving me awake and disoriented, trying to find the clock so I could turn the damn thing off. After silencing the thing, I groaned and took hold of my aching cock, jerking it roughly, the need for release too urgent to deny. The image of being deep inside Alex, her body entwined with mine, completely undid me. I cursed as I came all over my stomach and chest, breathing hard.

  It was barely enough to calm me. At least I didn’t have to see her until the afternoon—she was shooting some scenes this morning and had promised to come by after she’d eaten a quick lunch. I’d have time to work out some of this tension in the gym before our session.

  But first I needed to shower.

  Hurt me until I come, Sir.

  It would have to be a cold one.

  * * * *

  Spencer

  When Alex walked in that afternoon, I knew immediately that something was different. Today she exuded a confidence that was completely fucking hot.

  “Hey! How was your morning?” She dropped her bag just inside my office door and crossed the gym floor to where I was tinkering with the exercise bike, which needed recalibrating.

  I got up, deciding to worry about the bike later. I’d have my hands full just trying not to remember my fantasy about Alex this morning. “Good. How was yours?”

  She grinned, her eyes sparkling. “I died. It was fantastic.”

  Some conversations you could only have with actors. “How’d you die?”

  “I got skewered through the stomach by the Grim Reaper’s scythe, and then I had a poignant speech while I bled to death in my friend’s arms. Very moving. Oh, and I jogged over here so I’m all warmed up already.”

  “Good to know.” I beckoned for her to follow me over to the sparring mat. “Ready to get your ass kicked?”

  “Are you?” she challenged, taking the protective gear I held out for her.

  The determination in her eyes almost made me think she could take me down by force of will alone. “I think I can handle you.”

  I put on my own padding—forearms and shins—just in case she distracted me with an unintentionally suggestive remark and got past my defences. At least it would mean less contact between us. That could only be a good thing, given my resolve to keep things professional.

  “Ready?” I asked again, facing her.

  “Let’s go.” She bounced on the balls of her feet, her fists raised.

  Fighting her was a challenge, mainly because I didn’t want to overwhelm her with the force of my blows, but did want to see how much she could take. She landed a few good hits against my arm padding, moving more quickly today than she had the day before, but her balance was off and I easily swept a leg out to knock her off her feet. She hit the ground with a grunt that made the blood rush to my cock. Was that how she’d sound if I hit her ass with a paddle or belt?

  “How did I do that?” I asked her as she got to her feet.

  “You’re a third dan black belt and I’m only a green?”

  “Your centre of gravity was too far back.”

  We circled each other as she took a moment to correct herself. “How am I looking now?”

  “Overconfident,” I teased her.

  “Maybe you’re underestimating me.”

  I raised an eyebrow in a challenge. “Prove yourself to me, then.”

  Alex smiled and launched a roundhouse at me that I saw coming a mile off, followed by an uppercut that I didn’t. I barely blocked in time, and she gave a short, breathless laugh. “How’s that?”

  “Are you fishing for compliments now?”

  “I like it when you compliment me. It t
urns me on.”

  I stared at her, stunned by the directness of her approach. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that?

  My cock had a few ideas, but I was able to just about concentrate on her next few strikes, which took my mind out of the gutter. Then I miscalculated my next kick and sent her tumbling to the floor again.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to give you the full impact of that one.” I held out a hand to help her up.

  She took it, kept hold of it after she was on her feet again. “I’m tougher than I look. Did I say something to distract you?” Her wide-eyed, innocent expression made me want to spank her ass until she yelped and then fuck her until she screamed.

  “Stay focused and maybe you won’t fall again.” I backed off a few paces so she’d have to drop my hand.

  “I’m focused.” She launched another offensive, concentration clear on her face—the face I shouldn’t have been watching if I’d wanted to predict her movements, but I couldn’t seem to do anything but stare at her and automatically block anything I saw coming in my peripheral vision.

  “Think I could throw you across the room if I had enough momentum? I saw a move that went like this—” She grabbed my wrist, turned so that her back was to me and my arm was over her shoulder, and—holy fuck—pressed herself right back against me, her ass rubbing against my hard-on as she bent slightly, pulling my chest against her back. I was too startled to prevent it, and then… Fuck, I didn’t want to move. She was panting lightly, and probably not just from the workout. “The guy went right over the woman’s shoulder. Think you could show me?”

  My arm encircled her waist before I made a conscious decision, pressing her body against mine. My arm padding had shifted out of place and her stomach was hot against my skin. She shifted her hips suggestively, making it very clear that she could feel every inch of my cock pressing against her.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Alex?” I wanted to be angry, but the words just came out a breathless growl.