Fortune by Annabel Joseph (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📕

the bouncers, a fun sideline from his rather stressful day job and an outlet for the martial arts training he’d practiced for years. The first time he saw her was his second week there and he’d noticed her nearly every weekend since. There was something about her that fascinated him. It was probably the fact that she was the only person in the bar who didn’t seem to be having fun. He hadn’t seen her smile once—not when she danced, not when she talked to the various beefcake guys she hooked up with. His gut feeling was that she needed a good hard spanking. His hand twitched to give her one. That wasn’t the only thing that twitched when she was around.

But she wasn’t exactly girlfriend material and he wasn’t going to keep up the club gig much longer. It was easy money, but he didn’t need money. He was getting too old for the club life. He had a career as a neurosurgeon to concentrate on. He was closer to forty than he cared to think about and his best friend had recently married and become dad to an adorable baby son. Ryan had bounced the little critter on his knee over the holidays and been astounded at the changes in Dave and his wife. The three of them used to play kinky sex games together. They still did, but now Sophie and Dave were coupled up, their own family unit.

Ryan discovered to his shock that he wanted that too. Very much. So getting involved with a flighty club girl probably wasn’t the best move at the moment. He didn’t know why he’d even talked to her. It was just that she was almost painfully attractive to him. She was so much his type that she was the prototype for him, everything he liked in a girl. Big boobs but not too big. Little waist, tight abs, curvy little hips. An ass that was criminally tempting. What he wouldn’t give to have that ass in his hands. Her face was exotic, memorable. He had never seen her smile but even her frown was attractive, even the ambivalent absentia that usually resided on her face.

Now she had a name. Kat. Something about her actually brought a cat to mind. A kitten, a Persian, a pussy… Okay. But she had this feline appeal. Something about the slow, graceful way she moved and her green, almond-shaped eyes. Like a cat, she exuded an air of mystery, along with an air of fuck you. But at the same time, she possessed a vulnerability that made him ache for her, that made him want to care for her. Whether she intended it or not, she set off his Dom radar like an alarm. He’d played around in BDSM circles for years and dated tons of beautiful, submissive girls with smiling eyes and lovely bodies he could bury himself in. He’d learned how to handle them, how to thrill them and perhaps most importantly, how to pick them out of a crowd. He could spot a submissive girl a mile away and there were tons of them out there. Some aware, some not so aware, but all predictably compliant once they were in his hands.

But her… Well… He just didn’t know.

She seemed to almost revile men, the same men she constantly left with at last call. It was clear to Ryan that none of the men she left with fulfilled her. He’d see her the following weekend avoiding them like the plague. She was a wanton, a siren—but she was angry. Angry and slutty were never a good mix. He was pretty sure she also had a nihilistic, self-destructive streak. The Dominant side of him wanted to attain her and then tame her, but another part of him knew that would be difficult if not impossible. I want to fix you. I want your submission, your obedience, your body. You’ll like it. What would she do if he approached her that way?

He didn’t want her as a one-night stand. He didn’t want to be one more notch on her hook-up belt, although he was certain he could have accomplished it easily. That held no interest for him. He wanted her as his submissive or not at all. He wanted her, from the start, kneeling at his feet. Unfortunately, she seemed more apt to kick him in the nuts.

Well, no matter. There were plenty of fish in the sea and plenty of submissive women looking for a Dominant. He would be a fool to get mixed up with her, as tempting as the fantasy was. He wasn’t going after her. Not now, not ever. No.

* * * * *

Kat hit the pavement and started walking. She was so wrought-up that she chose to walk the few blocks to her house, even though a cab would have been safer at this time of night. She didn’t know why she was so unhinged tonight. Guys at the club accosted her all the time. She supposed it was because he’d watched the whole thing, he of the knowing eyes and judgmental smile. He’d seen that guy force his kiss on her, seen her push him away, seen her wipe her mouth and yell at the jerk like a child. He had talked to her like she was a child, like he knew better than her. Or maybe it was just her thinking that.

What made Kat most angry was that he didn’t come save her, didn’t come bounding down the stairs to her defense. Didn’t level the guy with one well-placed punch to the windpipe and drag his sorry ass outside. And now there was no earnest-faced boy to go home with, only her own empty bed in her family’s house near Brighton.

When she got home, she climbed the stairs to the porch heavily. She could hear a crying baby even from outside. Her sister Olga’s one-month-old. Darling during the day, devil all night. Kat brushed past her, suddenly bone-tired.

“Kat,