Page 33 of Dominated

I didn’t want Jacob to know I’d been to his home or that I had any relation or knowledge of the man who had transported him to the West Coast. If Jacob reported the event to the police, I would get dragged in. Questioned. Possibly blamed. Bale was too smart to leave a trace of evidence, which would mean I was the only person who had seen him, who could describe him, who could provide an account of how he operated.

That was the last thing I needed.

So, while Jacob recounted what he could recall from that evening and the hell of a time it had taken him to get back to Miami, I acted sympathetic, and we resumed our weekly meetups in my private room.

But it wasn’t the same.

He wasn’t Bale.

As skilled as Jacob was, it wasn’t enough.

Because every time I was in that room, all I thought of was Bale.

His hands.

His power.

His ability.

He’d done that on purpose.

He’d marked that room so it would be impossible for me to enjoy it with anyone but him.

I tried other rooms.

I tried my LA club, where I had a three-hour session with Luke.

He couldn’t compete either.

He couldn’t make me forget the hold Bale had on my body.

The hold he had on my heart.

Bale Pierce—or whatever his name was—had fucking ruined me.

EIGHT

Bale

As I stared at the monitors, watching Pepper’s movements, I held the phone to my ear, squeezing the sides of the screen so tightly that I was positive it was going to fucking shatter.

“Stay away from her,” I growled at Pepper’s enemy.

“Who is this?”

This smug son of a bitch.

Even though, this very second, I didn’t have eyes directly on his ugly-ass, pinched face, I could envision how he looked as he processed what I was telling him. The way he tore at his hair. How he adjusted his glasses even though they hadn’t fallen. How he was pacing the room he was in.

The ones who came across so confident were the first to cry when you held a gun to their head. The first to show their cards. The first to beg for mercy.

This wasn’t his only warning.

It was his second.

As an ex-client, he should know I saw everything regardless of whether I had a camera on him.

He should know I didn’t fuck around.

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