A Dom in Shining Armor Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by Kumquat Publishing

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2017

  Kumquat Publishing

  PO Box 350457

  Westminster CO 80035-0457

  Table of Contents

  A Dom In Shining Armor

  Also by Alexandra Noir

  About Alexandra Noir

  A Dom In Shining Armor

  Liz stood from her bar stool and stretched. She'd put off doing inventory long enough. Her software should handle the inventory, but the only internet provider in the small town of Delphos, Ohio wasn't exactly business worthy even with her expensive router.

  On her way past a rack of sexy lingerie, she plucked a fishnet bodysuit from the row of bras and replaced it with the rest of the fishnet line. Earlier, three rambunctious young women had invaded her sex shop, Sexolicious, and bought almost three hundred dollars worth of lingerie. They worked for a strip club in Lima so Liz always gave them a discount. She wished they'd return the favor and put her product back where it belonged.

  Holding one of their more popular dildos, she tucked the toy under her arm so she could straighten a row of bachelorette party favors. Forgetting she still had the toy, she entered the break room. The slender boxed toy clattered to the floor when she reached for her cup.

  "Shit!" She picked it up and studied the box for any damage. The corner was crumpled. "Great!" She quickly unboxed it and reached into the cabinet, underneath her coffee pot, for a box. The last thing she needed was for an eagle-eyed customer to accuse her of faulty merchandise. She'd dealt with all sorts of stereotypes because of her Romanian heritage, so she was always alert. All she needed was someone to scream discount, and then they'd go online to call out her store as lacking quality goods. She'd just opened the box to repackage it when she heard the store's entrance jingle.

  "Welcome to Sexolicious. I'll be right with you," and said and then muttered to herself, "Glad I put that 'Video Surveillance' sign on the door." She glanced over her shoulder, just in case a client developed sticky fingers, and almost yelped when she saw one of her customers walk into her off-limit break room. A bit of coffee splashed onto her wrist. She hissed and reached to her side to set it back on the counter.

  "Rick, how many times have I told you—hold up! What do you think you're doing?" She took a step back, but the cabinets stopped her. Rick, so full of himself that he didn't understand the meaning of 'No,' continued toward her.

  "Oh, come on, Liz. Hurting you isn't my style, unless you like pain." A smile spread over his face, as his eyes jumped from her breasts to her crotch. She inched to her right, and a bit more hot coffee splashed her wrist. If he didn't stop, should she throw coffee in his face?

  "I don't like you harassing me, Rick. You're creeping me out. Back off!" He didn't stop until he was near enough to grab her. She raised the cup of coffee, letting him know she wouldn't hesitate to use it. "Get out of my break room."

  "That hot coffee touches my skin and someone will get spanked. I bet you like being spanked, huh?"

  He crowded her even more. This wasn't her first showdown with Rick. Something shifted on the counter when she leaned her upper body away from him. The dildo! She reached behind her and grabbed it. Before he could move again, she stabbed at his face with it.

  "Back the fuck off!" she yelled.

  He swatted the toy away from his face while taunting, "So you want me to use that on you, huh?"

  "I think the lady said to back the fuck off," a male voice said from the doorway to her break room. "Do you need some help with her request?"

  Rick spun toward the man's voice so Liz darted sideways, barely noticing that the massive hulk of a male was casually swinging her recently ordered cat-o-nine whip. In her haste to make it through the narrow space between this huge man and the door frame, coffee sloshed out of her cup and hit the floor. One misstep made her sneaker slide forward on the coffee. She waved her arms for balance, coating the wall with coffee before her cup shattered against a nearby table.

  A muscular arm which had to be the size of her leg shot out and caught her before she hit the floor. Rick's barked laughter died when the man in the doorway cracked the whip with a loud snap.

  "Get out!" the man's voice, cold and hard as steel, ordered.

  Liz hadn't realized she was still clinging to his arm until his muscles rippled when he gently pushed her behind him.

  "Fuck, dude, I was just playing. Damn little gypsy knew I wasn't going to do anything." He grew even angrier. "She's a fucking prick-tease anyway."

  "You're so full of shit, Rick!" Liz said from behind her protector. "You never buy anything when you come in here, and you're always saying inappropriate things to me and my clients." Angry, too, she tried to step around the huge—and, she had to admit, very scrumptious smelling man—so she could confront Rick, but the man easily stopped her.

  "You own a sex shop, sweetheart, not a bible store, so stick your fake holier-than-thou attitude up your ass."

  "Enough!" the male who she was hiding behind boomed. "If you don't leave her shop by the time I count to three, you'll be wearing this whip up your ass!"

  "Get the hell out of my way and I'll leave," Rick said, his eyes flitting from the whip to the man's face.

  The man stepped into the break room, pulling Liz along with him to make sure she didn't slide again. After Rick had passed them, he knocked off several items from the shelf and growled, "I'll be right back with my brother, Sergeant Blanchez."

  Liz couldn't keep from rolling her eyes. She hadn't reported him to the police again since his brother last claimed Rick was 'just joking' and 'no harm done, therefore no harassment was involved.'

  "I can't wait to meet him," the man called out. The edge in his voice captured her attention. She looked up into sky blue eyes staring down at her with intense interest.

  "Damn! You're huge and…" she blurted out but managed to put the brakes on her tongue before hot rolled out, "Tall. Very tall and…who-who are you?"

  They stared at each other silently, the front door adding a background jingle as Rick departed. Still holding the whip, this man resembled a gladiator…a sexy-as-fuck gladiator. Although he appeared intense, his demeanor was nothing like Rick's. On the contrary, Liz was well aware of the attraction snapping in the air between them like an invisible force pulling at each of them.

  The room was suddenly too hot and her legs were shaky. The man seemed to pick up on this, too. He quickly grabbed a chair.

  "Whoa! You're looking pale. Sit." His arm curled around her back. She leaned into him like a starved plant seeking water. "Let me get you some coffee. How long has that dick been doing this?"

  "Almost a year," she breathed and cringed at the thought of his brother stopping by. "Thank you so much. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't shown up."

  "Has he ever touched you? Hurt you?" He placed her coffee in front of her and then sat down in the chair across from her.

  Mesmerized, she studied him for a second. His sky blue eyes were still intense, surrounded by features which would be perfect except for a single scar cutting from his forehead, through the outer corner of his left eyebrow, and ending on his cheek. Dark hair, mussed by the wind, perfectly matched a shadow of stubble around the end of the scar. She swore if she reached out, she'd touch the danger in the air surrounding him, while the power emanating from him attracted her like a magnet.

  Speechless and awe
d, her mind raced to figure out how such a jaw-dropping hot male escaped being seen around town. He was too big to hide, but where the hell had he come from?

  Thinking she hadn't heard him, he asked her again, "Has he ever touched or hurt you?"

  She shook her head to clear the daze, but at his disbelieving look, the question finally penetrated her mind. "Touched, yeah…he's grabbed me and Stacy, my employee, a few times." A frown wrinkled her brow. "She tried smacking him and wound up face down on the counter. Now, we try not to go near him."

  "And the police haven't done anything?"

  She shook her head again. "Our force serves themselves, not the people, especially when terms like gypsy are thrown around. You'll get arrested if you're here when Officer Blanchez shows up. I won't think less of you if you leave. In fact, I insist on it."

  "Keeping an asshole from possibly raping a beautiful woman—who should be proud of her heritage—gets a person arrested? That's beyond ridiculous," he said, dragging a hand over the right side of his face and sliding it around the back of his neck. "And that bullshit stops now."

  Her head slid backward, chin lowering toward her chest, and the corners of her lips turned downward. "I wish!"

  He ignored her doubt. His tolerance for over-inflated, ego-driven men hitting on and scaring petite women was zero. To have a police force backing the same behavior lowered that tolerance into the negative zone. Her vivid green eyes still held too much fear for his liking. Every protective instinct in his body was jangling. He pointed to the coffee pot, needing space before he gathered her in his lap and promised to shield her.

  "Let me get us some coffee."

  "I have to clean this mess up, and I was serious about you being arrested. My shop doesn't need that kind of drama." Realizing she hadn't introduced herself or gotten his name, she stood and said, "I'm Liz Padina, by the way, and you are?"

  He looked at the hand she offered for him to shake and willed his libido to calm down. Taking her hand, he said, "Erik Young. Nice to meet you, Liz."

  At their touch, her eyes widened, lips parted, and she flushed. He quickly released her before the air between them, along with his libido, went nuclear. Liz used her cleaning task to put distance between them, opening a closet to gather the broom and supplies while trying to even out her breathing. His touch had sent a zip to all the right places. He moved back to the coffee pot to refresh their cups.

  She swept the coffee cup shards into a pile while wondering why he'd entered her shop. Was he buying someone a toy? Cleaning the spilled coffee with paper towels followed by lemon-scented moist wipes gave her body time to recuperate. She glanced over her shoulder as she dumped the soiled wet mess in the wastebasket and spotted her whip on the table. When he placed their fresh coffee on the same table, he caught her looking at it.

  "It was on the counter by the register, but I didn't see any like it on the shelves. Is it for sale?" he asked, grabbing the dustpan to help her clear the coffee cup shards.

  "No, it's not. I don't carry the professional-grade ones, but I can—"

  The door jingled again and Rick's voice called out, "Let's see you threaten me now." His voice lowered. "They're in the break room."

  "Shit!" Liz cursed and stood quickly, determined not to let the cop arrest Erik.

  "I won't get—" Erik fell silent when the officer appeared, wearing arrogance along with his uniform and looking ready to throw his abundant weight around. Erik's shoulders squared, outlining his fit chest through his t-shirt, and displaying his full six-foot four-inch height.

  Officer Blanchez stopped short and looked up from his lesser five-foot seven-inches only stumbled forward a step when Rick ran into his back. The officer's mouth opened and then shut as all attitude fled, then he shuffled his feet nervously.

  Liz looked from Erik to the cop and thought, what the hell is going on here? Sure, he's intimidating, but…

  "Sir." The officer nodded respectfully to Erik and then to Liz. "I apologize for my brother's behavior here today. He will not come here again."

  "What?!" Rick shoved his brother. "What the fuck—"

  Officer Blanchez turned on Rick. "Walk back out that front door, and for both our damn sakes, shut the fuck up!"

  Rick tried to look around his brother and whined, "He threatened me with a whip." When that didn't work, he yelled, "You just wait, motherfucker, I'll—"

  His brother's angry voice cut him off. "Shut. The fuck. Up. You idiot!" Then his voice dropped so all Liz could make out was, "…pissed off…learn to listen…ass fired…"

  The jingling door shut his sentence off, but Liz had to know. "Why did he respond that way to you? Who are you?"

  "Liz, people don't normally mess with me," he said, purposely being vague about his new position as the Chief of Police.

  "Why haven't I seen you around? Did you just move to Delphos?"

  He nodded, but didn't elaborate on details, so she asked, "Where did you move from?"

  "Cleveland." He didn't want to talk about himself. What he wanted was to test his hunch. Pointing to the whip, he asked, "You said that's not for sale. Is it yours?"

  "I ordered that for someone." She'd actually ordered it for herself. As a sub, which only one other person in Delphos knew about, she was always on the lookout for quality items.

  Wait! He's into whips? she thought. "Is there some type of product you're looking for?"

  His eyes narrowed. She'd just lied to him about owning it. He'd bet money she was submissive, which rang his inner Dom's bell. "That type of whip is a damn useful weapon, and it's not illegal."

  "Good point. Do you want me to order you one like that?"

  "If you'll order yourself one, too, so I can teach you how to use it." He had to see this woman again…many, many times.

  "I don't date clients," she blurted out.

  "I'm not a client, and who said anything about dating?" he asked and leaned forward to invade her space. Rarely did Erik find himself this attracted to a woman—a submissive woman—who obviously shared that attraction. And, due to his profession, he was accustomed to moving fast. "I don't do the dinner and a movie routine. I'm more of a wake-the-sub-for-play kind of guy."

  She gasped, inhaling a trickle of coffee, and almost dropped her cup when she began coughing.

  Oh hell! This panty melter is a Dom? A freaking hot Dom!

  "Well, well, it's nice to meet you," he said and watched her drag in a harsh breath as her face reddened.

  He needed to find out the depth of this submissive; hardcore slave, sensually obedient, or somewhere in between? He wasn't into force and micromanaging a sub's life. His priority for being in Delphos shifted, this gorgeous green-eyed beauty taking its place for the moment.

  "The whip is yours," he corrected her, and she nodded. "You're not with a Dom?"

  She nodded again and said, "Not many subs are in Delphos and less Doms."

  "Does the jackass know?" he asked.

  She shook her head. "Only a friend of mine who's also submissive."

  "And you own this place." Although he knew plenty of women who could take care of themselves, he had to ask, "Is there a male employee you can call to take your place?"

  "Yeah." She knew Rick was the type to seek revenge, and apparently, he thought so too. "I'll call him. Can you stick around until he arrives?"

  "Yes, and then I think you and I have unfinished business."

  She nodded, wanting to know more about Erik Young, and pulled out her phone to call Luke, her part-time employee when he wasn't working as a bouncer for a local bar.

  He answered on the second ring. "Luke Stapleton speaking."

  "Hi, can you come in and cover for the rest of the day? I'll pay you a bonus," she said and crossed her fingers.

  "Sure! I'll be there in ten minutes. Everything okay?"

  "We'll talk when you get here." She thanked him and ended the call. Almost seven minutes later, he arrived. Erik checked him out while Luke eyed him and then glanced Liz's way, raised his eyebrow
s, and pointed to Luke.

  Liz introduced them and told Luke, "Eric just saved my ass from Rick's pawing."

  "Rick? Oh, that stupid idiot brags to anyone who'll listen about what he's been doing with a few strippers." He glanced from Liz to Erik and added, "With you and Stacy, too. No one believes him, though."

  "He brags about…what? Like sexual stuff?" Liz paled.

  "Oh yeah," Luke answered. "He causes trouble at the bar all the time, but calling the cops here is a joke. They're corrupt as hell."

  "What do you mean by corrupt?" Erik asked him.

  Luke glanced at him, then back to Liz, who nodded to let him know it was okay to talk to Erik. "We were told not to ask questions, but the bouncers have a theory. That new string of festivals planned monthly is a cover for whatever the police force can push through. I don't like bullshit, especially with gangs, illegal weapons, drugs, sex trafficking—"

  "Do you have any evidence to back up that claim?" Erik's radar was engaged at full force. Speechless, Liz's jaw had dropped, and she'd leaned against a wall to keep her feet underneath her.

  Luke eyed him and asked, "You in with them? Dude, I don't want trouble and—"

  "It's not like that," Erik said.

  Luke shrugged. "Just what I hear and what the other bouncers have been told to do. Our head guy, Grady, was recently told to alert the owner when a man hands him an envelope. Word is that something big is going down, but no one knows when. A lot of us are searching for new jobs now, including Grady." Luke looked a little desperate. "I'd really like that job if they weren't so damn corrupt. What about here? Do you think I could pick up some extra hours?"

  "I can do that, thanks to Rick." Remembering how they showed Erik respect and quickly left, Liz wondered again exactly who he was. What if he was really in with them? Like the head of a gang? He appeared calm and neutral, which wasn't helping her anxiety one bit.

  "Liz, are you ready to go?" Erik asked.

  She nodded, Just ask him what he does for a living. If it sounds fishy, get the hell out of dodge. Okay, I can do this! she thought, but told Luke, "Give me a call when you close up and let me know how things went…either way."