Her Second Chance Dom: Dominant Men - Book Five Read online

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  Before she could say anything else, he had somehow managed to sit up, propping himself against the mountain of pillows on the king-sized bed. He had also been able to flip her over his lap quite effortlessly. Good to know he hadn’t lost the touch, so to speak. What had she just agreed to? She thought she was going to find out fairly soon as he began to speak again.

  "Now, I've got you right where I've wanted you for more than twenty years. I'd say we have some time to make up for, don't you agree, baby?" He began to run lazy circles over her back with his hand as he waited for her to reply.

  She nodded.

  "First rule," he said as his hand stopped. "You don't nod when you are being punished. You will answer with, 'Yes, Sir.'"

  "Are you serious?" she asked.

  Smack! "Does it sound like I'm serious?" he asked as his hand moved quickly from her back to rise and fall on her unsuspecting rump.

  "Uh, yes, Sir," she managed to squeak out in the haze of shock and pain that had followed the surprise assault to the tender skin of her right cheek. Her man knew how to pack a wallop. He may not have been active in the lifestyle for several years, but it all seemed to be coming back to him very easily.

  "That's more like it, baby girl," he said.

  Baby girl? He had actually called her baby girl. Camille was elated to hear that, which surprised her. Why would such an endearment mean so much? But, somehow, it just did.

  The next smack came just as quickly and surprisingly as the first. Ten more rained down on her backside, alternating back and forth between her right cheek and her left. Camille barely had time to react, let alone think. It was all happening so fast. Her bottom was on fire, but that wasn't the only part of her body that was affected.

  "Those ten were for all the times you resisted my opinions, never considering there may have been a reason for the things I requested," he said. "Now, I'm going to give you ten more for not giving us a fighting chance all those years ago."

  Now was not the time to argue with him, she decided. So, she said meekly, "Y-yes, S-sir."

  "That's my girl," he praised as he rubbed out some of the sting.

  She prepared herself for the next onslaught. This time, when the volley of smacks started, he included her sit spots and the tops of her thighs in the action. Her once-creamy white skin was now a deep, hot red, she imagined.

  "What do you have to say for yourself, baby girl?" he asked as the tenth swat hit hard.

  Her Second Chance Dom

  Dominant Men - Book Five

  Isabella Kole

  Published by Blushing Books

  An Imprint of

  ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.

  A Virginia Corporation

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  ©2019

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Isabella Kole

  Her Second Chance Dom

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-64563-048-7

  v1

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Isabella Kole

  EBook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Blushing Books

  Chapter 1

  Camille Robertson sat behind the massive oak desk in her office and stared at the computer screen in front of her, a blank look on her face. She had no idea what she had been reading for the past ten minutes, as her thoughts were clearly elsewhere that morning. Her pretty brunette head bent, her well-manicured nails tapping nervously on the wood, she was a million miles away.

  Her divorce from her husband Joe had become final the day before, and even though it had been an amicable split, Camille had to wonder what the future held for her. She thought back over the years to the romance she'd experienced with another man, Cody Larkin. Cody had been the perfect boyfriend, sweet, thoughtful, good-looking. He was tall, with light brown hair that was never quite all in one place, giving him a windblown look. His brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She remembered how he'd looked in those days, young and carefree. The couple had been so in love, and everyone thought they would tie the knot someday. Camille had thought so too, until she'd landed a job with one of New York City's largest publishing houses. She had started out as an editor, moving up the ladder quite quickly. Her job required travel at that time, and when Cody had hinted that she might want to consider doing something else after they were married, Camille had taken stock of the situation. She loved Cody and their life together, but she also loved her job and the promise of growth within the company. She'd worked long and hard to get where she was. Was it fair of Cody to ask her to step down? At the time, she'd though it was very unfair of him, and she told him exactly that, the night she broke off their engagement. He had pretty much given her an ultimatum, and she was having none of that. Cody wanted to be the dominant in their relationship, and that was something she just couldn't fathom back then. She had never submitted to anyone, and she didn't intend to start any time soon.

  The breakup hadn't been easy for her or for him. She thought back to the question he'd asked her that night: "Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?"

  She'd shaken her head and replied, "Yes, Cody, I'm sorry. I can't see myself spending the rest of my life with a man who can't support my career. You want a stay-at-home wife and mother, a houseful of kids in the suburbs, and that just isn't me. I love the city, the travel and the challenges being an executive with a big-name pub gives me. I'm not the woman you need. It's better to break things off now than to realize later that we've made an abominable mistake."

  Had she ever regretted that decision? Only every day of her life since that night. Oh, her career had advanced, just like she'd thought it would. She was now the vice president of the New York office, and she spent her days overseeing the office staff, making vital decisions, and traveling to events all over the country. The problem? Cody wasn't the one sharing it all with her.

  When one of her editors had been given a chance to reunite with the love of her life, several years after their split up, Camille was the first to advise her to take the plunge. She'd divulged her secret to Cora, the story few people knew, the story of Camille and Cody.

  Now, Cora and Dale were happily married, living in their hometown in Texas with their two adorable children. Cora had started her own small publishing company, and another employee, Audrey Carson, had joined Cora in the business, after falling in love with a Texas cowboy on a visit with Cora and her family.

  What had happened to Cody? He had married someone else, a year after the breakup with Camille. He and his wife were happily raising four children in the suburbs, until his wife fell ill and passed away, leaving him to raise their babies alone.

  And Camille? Many years after Cody, she had met Joe Robertson, a very
dear man. He was no Cody, but he and Camille got along fairly well. Joe supported her career, didn't want children, and loved the New York scene. What had happened to cause a divorce in a seemingly perfect alliance? Joe had finally come out of the closet, admitting to his wife that he was gay and had met someone he wanted to start a new life with. The couple started divorce proceedings, and it had been extremely amicable—almost unbelievably so.

  The assets were split in half, with Camille remaining in the loft they had shared. It was a very elegant place, with several rooms, in the Manhattan area of the city. She bore no ill will against Joe; in fact, it had almost been a relief when he'd asked for a divorce.

  But the fact remained as of the day before, she was a single woman once again, and Cody Larkin was back in her life, in a roundabout sort of way. Her thoughts were interrupted when her senior editor Kayla knocked lightly on the door before she stuck her head in and asked, "Are you busy right now, Camille?"

  "Not with anything that can't be interrupted. What do you need?"

  "The art department needs you. I'd go, but I have an appointment in twenty minutes."

  "You go on. I know you're busy with your wedding planner this morning. I'll put out the fire with the art folks."

  "Thanks, Camille, I owe you one," Kayla said as she waved and quickly made her exit.

  Camille stood up and stretched, taking her time before leaving her office to grab the elevator to the second floor, which housed the graphic arts department. What now? She stepped out into the hallway a few minutes later. It seemed there was always a crisis of some sort these days. She missed the old days when Cora and her assistant, Audrey, kept things running smoothly. Oh, Kayla was good at her job, but it seemed the four of them had made such a good team. Things hadn't been the same since the other two had relocated to the Lone Star state to begin their new lives.

  Maybe she had a touch of the green-eyed monster working on her. Not that she wasn't happy for her friends and former coworkers, but damn it, she wanted a happy ending too. Even Kayla, who has always had bad luck with men, has finally found the perfect mate and is busily planning the wedding to outdo all weddings, she thought as she walked into the offices of the art department.

  "Camille, thank God you're here," the girl seated at the front desk said when she entered.

  "What's up?" Camille asked with a smile.

  "Gregory and Ron are at it again. They can't agree on the cover for the new Rhonda Royce book."

  "Rhonda Royce is one of our biggest sellers. That cover has to be perfect. I'd better see what they're arguing about this time. Excuse me."

  She walked briskly into the room on the right and marched to the desk of one of her graphic arts people, Gregory Lane.

  Gregory looked up from his computer and said, "Greetings, Ms. Robertson, what brings you up here this morning?"

  "I think you know. Where is Ron?"

  "He went for coffee. Someone told you we are having a minor disagreement. You didn't have to take time out of your day to worry with it."

  "Show me," she said in an authoritative tone.

  "Yes, ma'am," Gregory replied meekly as he pulled up his work on the laptop.

  "I see a problem right off the bat. I want you to tell me what Ron said." She waited, tapping the toe of her black leather pump on the tile floor.

  "He says the font isn't bold enough. I think it's perfect."

  "Aha," she replied. "Gregory, listen to Ron. He's been around this business a lot longer than you have. You do excellent work, but there are times you just need to listen to other people's thoughts. That's one thing you haven't learned yet. In this business, sometimes two heads are better than one. Now, you don't have to even let Ron know I was here. Take it from here and work it out. I want to see the mock-up in my email before lunch. Are we okay here?"

  "You bet, thanks," Gregory replied.

  She took the back stairs, instead of the elevator, to avoid running into Ron. Those two were like oil and water, both excellent graphic artists, but they couldn't agree on anything. Camille was determined to see that she didn't have to let either of them go. Both valuable employees, they just needed to learn how to blend their ideas, something neither of them had mastered yet.

  Finally back in the sanctuary of her own plush, private office, Camille poured a cup of coffee, flavored it with cinnamon apple creamer, and sat down once more. This time, when she looked at the email staring back at her from the screen, she actually read it. She replied to it and moved on the next, and the next one after that, until she'd read and replied to the thirty she'd received that morning.

  That done, she picked up the snail mail her assistant had placed on her desk and began going through it.

  "That's odd," she said, ripping open one of the envelopes. She began to read the letter addressed to her. "Oh," she said as she read on.

  Her reading was interrupted by the shrill sound of the phone on her desk, begging to be answered. Absentmindedly, she put the letter down and picked up the receiver.

  "Good morning, Camille Robertson speaking."

  "Camille, are you free for lunch?" a deep male voice asked.

  "Cody, uh, let me get back to you on that, okay?" she replied. Normally, she would have immediately accepted his invitation, but the letter on her desk was responsible for today's hesitation. On second thought, perhaps he should be told about it. "Oh, what the heck?" she added. "Work can wait an hour. I'll meet you at the deli, say twelve-thirty?"

  "Atta girl, you're learning," he said with a chuckle. "I'll see you then."

  Picking the letter up, she read on. When she'd finished, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headrest on her chair. Poor Caroline, poor, poor baby, she thought. Caroline was the eldest of Cody's four children. At sixteen, she'd tried to assume the responsibility for her younger siblings when her mother had died. She helped Cody with everything, from housework, to laundry, to meal planning and cooking. He'd hired a housekeeper to do those things, but Caroline insisted on helping anyway. Even when her dad encouraged her to go out with her friends and have a good time, she fought him tooth and nail. "Mom would want me to help" was the answer she always gave. It was as if the young girl had taken over as the matriarch of the family. No wonder she felt threatened by Camille.

  When Cody's wife had been on her deathbed, she had told Cody to look up Camille. Had she known about the relationship her husband had shared with the other woman years ago? Apparently, she had, because she had emphatically encouraged him to seek her out. When Camille had attended the funeral, she talked with a grieving Cody briefly, but she had no idea at the time that he would contact her soon after.

  About the time her marriage to Joe began to unravel, Cody had called her to talk. He needed a friend, he'd said. They met for lunch that day, and after that for other lunches and occasional dinners. They weren't actually dating. They were two old friends, lonely and in need of someone to confide in.

  Caroline wasn't happy with the situation and, apparently, was reading more into it. The letter was a friendly warning of sorts, explaining that Cody didn't need a new wife, and she and her siblings certainly didn't need a new mom. They were all doing splendidly on their own. Caroline was lashing out, and Cody needed to be told.

  Camille couldn't blame the girl, but she could see that there were some deep scars there from losing her beloved mama.

  The email from Gregory arrived just before she was to meet Cody. She was relieved as she sent the reply giving her approval on the new mock-up. Now, to send it on to Rhonda for her approval, and they were one step closer to publication on what would, hopefully, be the next best seller.

  Hurriedly, she walked out of the building and down the street, mingling with the crowds on the busy New York street. When she reached the deli a few blocks away, Cody was already there, waiting for her with a smile on his handsome face. Still that same good-looking man, with the windblown brown hair and sparkling brown eyes, his face now showed signs of worry and stress. How she would
love to take all that away for him, to be the one to share the worries with him, the one to comfort him.

  "Hey, pretty lady, how was your morning?" he asked as he opened the door for her.

  She smiled up at him as she pushed her shoulder length hair out of her face. The New York wind was strong that day.

  They were lucky enough to find an empty table and quickly grabbed it. After ordering drinks, she took a deep breath. "You asked about my morning. It was very eventful. There was a disagreement about a book cover, tons of emails to answer, and one very disturbing letter."

  He gave her a quizzical look as she took Caroline's letter out of her bag and handed it to him, her hand brushing his slightly in the exchange. "Cody, I'm really beginning to understand why you're so concerned about Caroline's state of mind these days. Have you spoken to her counselor lately?"

  "What's this?" he asked as he took the envelope from her and looked at the handwriting. "Caroline wrote you a letter?"

  "Read it. If that's not a cry for help, I don't know what is. That poor child is hurting, Cody. She's determined to take care of her sister and her brothers and to care for you and run the household, without help from anyone. She's sixteen years old. She needs to enjoy her teen years."

  "She doesn't want me to see anyone, is that what she said?" he asked. "She is worried that you're trying to take her mother's place in our lives, is that it?"

  "I'm afraid so. It's understandable. Even though we are friends, she is afraid it will develop into more."

  "What do you suggest we do about it?" he asked.