James (Doms of Club Indigo #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Laura Turner stumbled through the door of the laundromat and into the heavenly blast of an industrial air conditioner. It was the 31 st of July and another meltingly hot summer day, but she had no choice but to get out in it and walk. Her arms ached from the weight of the bags from Hy-Vee grocery. Her laundry hadn’t seemed so heavy when she left the house, but now the straps of her backpack dug at her shoulders. Even through her sneakers, her feet ached from walking on the blistering-hot pavement and her shirt was plastered to her body with sweat. Gross!

She wasn’t alone – there was a car in the parking lot and one of the machines was in use -- but the place appeared empty. And since she didn’t have to settle for the crappy machine by the door, she headed for one of the ‘good’ machines about halfway down the row. The washer next to it was sloshing away and there was a toolbox tucked under the chair in front of it, so she’d have company eventually, but there was no one to be seen right now .

Laura wasn’t up for small talk anyway. Her father had been crankier than usual during today’s visit. What was wrong with the man? He was only sixty-three, but most of the time, he seemed as if he were ten or twenty years older, and acted fifty years younger. He was her dad and she loved him, but at forty-two, she had her own life. She worked full-time, volunteered at the church, and watched her niece and nephew every Saturday. He complained that she ‘never had time for him,’ but visiting her dad twice a week and bringing him home-cooked meals he only needed to microwave were all she could squeeze in.

Her sister visited him twice a week too. As a single mom, Suzie didn’t have time – or money, for that matter – to bring him meals, but she did her duty as a daughter. Poor Suzie. After her husband died, all she had left were hospital bills on top of hospital bills. Taking the kids to the movies or the playground once a week gave Suzie a bit of desperately-needed me-time, and Laura was happy to do it. She loved the little rascals. Her nephew, Tim, was eleven, serious and sweet, and trying very much to be the man of the house. Abby, who soon would be eight, was bright and lively as a hummingbird, and could bring a smile to anyone’s face. Laura missed not having any children of her own, but at this point in her life, she didn’t expect that to change.

Laura sighed with relief as she put her groceries on the chair beside the one with the toolbox under it. She shrugged off her backpack and knelt in front of the big industrial washing machine to load it up. Life would be so much easier if she had her own machine. If she at least had a car, she wouldn’t have to struggle with lugging laundry and groceries around every week during the always tempestuous Midwest weather. However, between taking care of her father, paying off the debts her useless ex had stuck her with and helping her sister with the kids, another big expense just wasn’t on the agenda in the foreseeable future.

She’d manage. In another year and a half, she’d be free and clear of the debt and maybe then she could afford a decent used car or at least a washer and dryer. The duplex where she lived now was nice enough, but light on the creature comforts, and her landlord was one of those who only believed in prompt communication when the rent was due.

Laura put her laundry in the machine, added detergent and coins and switched it on. Now all she had to do was wait.

Laura settled into the seat next to the grocery bags. It was impossible to get comfortable in these plastic chairs. Luckily, she had lost more than thirty pounds, otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to fit in the round molded contraptions at all. And if she lost another thirty pounds, she’d have to sit crooked in order to lean on one of the armrests, while the plastic dug at her ribs and thighs. It was like they’d been deliberately designed to be annoying at any size, a means for the absent management to tell their clientele not to get too comfortable, just wash your stuff and get out.

Laura dug into her bag and pulled out her novel, a well-worn paperback with a cracked cover and pages wrinkled and curled from multiple readings. She opened the book at her marker and immersed herself in a fantasy world of Alpha men and the strong, submissive women they loved.

In seconds, she was so engrossed that she never heard the man approach until plastic chair legs loudly complained at taking his weight just on the other side of her grocery bags. She could see him from the corner of her eye as he settled himself without acknowledging her so she could keep reading. She wanted to, but he wasn't exactly a stranger, so that would be rude.

Laura looked up from her book and made eye contact with the tall man she had seen here once or twice before, but had never actually met. Okay, she had seen him exactly four times. He wasn’t someone you overlooked or forgot. Probably five to ten years older than she, he had dark hair with a sprinkling of gray and a body that showed he worked hard for a living. He wore jeans and a short-sleeved shirt that highlighted his muscular forearms and a simple but masculine watch. What was it about a watch on a man’s arm that made him so sexy? The ripple of muscle, the glint of gold…

Oh, girl, stop it! But she couldn’t. Her covert glance had become a full-on stare, and before she knew it, she was checking him out with all the subtlety of a schoolgirl with her first crush. Shyly, she looked up at his face. The crinkles beside his eyes told her two things: first, that he laughed frequently, and second, that he was totally aware of what she’d been thinking.

Oh hell, busted! Laura managed a weak apologetic smile, but in her haste to return to her book, she dropped the blasted thing on the floor in front of his feet. Before she could grab the book, he picked it up for her.

His gaze fell on the cover, assessing the picture of a kneeling woman in front of a muscled man. Laura wished there was a hole in the ground to swallow her. His eyes skimmed over the title and author. Then he held out the book to her. “Cherise Sinclair,” he said in a low rumble. “Interesting choice. ”

Laura didn’t know where to look. How on earth did he know this author? Did men read this sort of book? “Thank you,” she mumbled and accepted the book.

Before she could say or do anything else, a loud clap of thunder interrupted them, followed by a close crash. Laura froze, but the man shot to his feet and, with three purposeful strides, he reached the door and cursed.

Laura came out of her daze. “What? What is it? What happened?” she stammered.

He turned around and stepped in front of her. “Don’t panic.”

“Don’t panic? Don’t panic?” She knew she was babbling, maybe even gibbering, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Why do people even say that in stressful situations? It’s guaranteed to make people panic! What’s wrong? Why won’t you let me see?”

“Girl—” He fixed Laura with an even stare. “—calm down and sit.”

Laura instinctively responded to his quiet authority and sank back into her chair.

“Good girl.” He knelt in front of her and braced his hands on her armrests, boxing her in. “We have to stay in here for a while.”

James Black assessed the pretty woman in front of him. Not young, maybe late thirties or early forties, with long legs and appealing curves. Perhaps not beautiful in a classic, cover-girl kind of way, but James liked what he saw. Her face had character and her hair was a gorgeous dark mane with a skunk streak of silver at one temple. She was such a contradiction, confident in her stride and posture, but shy when given attention. Definitely a submissive . The book had been a dead giveaway, but her prompt acquiescence to his command to sit confirmed his suspicions. She was submissive and on the verge of panic. Well now, wasn’t it nice he was just the Dom to take care of that?

“It’s raining cats and dogs, and I think lightning hit one of the trees. The wind is picking up.” James scanned her face; it was too pale for his liking. “For now, we can’t go outside. With luck, the storm will pass soon.”

Blinking, she made a visible effort to pull herself together and slowly nodded.

What a delight she was, James thought. She had an expressive face and probably an active mind when she wasn’t scared stiff. Paired with those legs and curves, she really was his type of woman. How he would enjoy turning those ass cheeks hot pink. His palm tingled with anticipation and blood ran to his dick. Hell, jeans and a hard on weren’t made to go together. And here he was, getting carried away by his attraction instead of taking care of a woman who obviously needed comfort and attention.

“Are you okay, miss?” he asked.

It had been a long time since anyone had called Laura “miss.” Although she was in good shape for her years, the gray in her hair clearly identified her as “ma’am” to most people.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m a bit startled. I didn’t think it was supposed to storm tonight.”

James held up his phone and replied, “I got an alert a little while ago. There’s a tornado watch and a severe thunderstorm watch in effect for the next couple of hours. Good thing we’re in here where it’s safe. And by the looks of it—” He glanced over his shoulder to both machines. “—we both have at least an hour before we’d want to leave anyway.” He stood up and stepped back from Laura.

She exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. What was it about this man that threw her off balance? She couldn’t identify how she was feeling. What was going on? She was an educated woman with a master’s degree in computer science. It wasn’t often she was at a loss for words. Somehow, he reminded her of those wonderful mythical men from her books.

Yeah right, like that type of man really existed . She had to admit, it had been her ex’s take-charge attitude that had attracted her, until she learned he wasn’t really a dominant as much as a demanding, demeaning asshole. Her sister’s late husband had been a sweetheart, but loving and supportive, but definitely content to let his wife take charge. Strong, sweet dominant men who enforced their authority without abusing it were figments of an author’s imagination and a reader’s wishful thinking.

As more loud thunder sounded, Laura jumped up and went toward the big windows up front, hugging herself as she watched the trees lash back and forth. James quickly came up beside her and said, “I don’t like the way that wind is picking up. Why don’t we stay in the back until the storm’s over?”

Laura eyed him suspiciously; unused to having a man hover over her like this. Once they’d gotten married, Jake stopped caring about her safety. He’d sent her out in worse weather than this for hamburgers when he hadn’t liked the dinner she’d made. “Why do you care?” she asked.

“I care because we’re stuck here together and I don’t want either of us to get hurt. Besides, the way I was raised, a man protects a woman. James Black,” he added, holding out his hand.

Before her mind had caught up with her body, she’d laid her hand in his and said, “Laura. I’m Laura Turner.”

He smiled. “Laura, nice to finally meet you, although the circumstances could be better. Now, I want you to step away from the windows. It’s not safe. Why don’t we sit down in the chairs?”

Laura took a step in the direction of the chairs and then stopped. Oh no! No, no, no! When she got divorced, she had promised herself she wasn’t going to let another man tell her what to do. She straightened her spine, lifted her chin up and said, “I’ll stand where I please.”

He didn’t say a word, but cocked one eyebrow.

“These windows will hold just fine,” she said. “It’s only a summer storm, so quit acting like you’re in charge.”

“I may not be your boss,” he said levelly, “but I don’t tolerate stubborn behavior. You’re being willful and not thinking about potential consequences.”

She scoffed. “The windows are made of safety glass. They’ve been through storms before.”

“The windows at the St. Louis Airport were made of safety glass, too. And the Goldsby Airport, and for that matter, the North Perry Airport, the Monroe Airport and the —”

“You’ve made your point.”

“Then let’s get away from the windows and go sit down. ”

Laura didn’t have a good argument for that, so she huffed and stared deliberately out the window.

His reflection narrowed his eyes at her and muttered something under his breath as he turned away. It sounded a lot like ‘spanking’ to her.

She quickly followed him to the chairs. “What did you say?”

Two dark brown eyes zeroed in on her and without hesitation, he repeated, “I said, you could do with a spanking.”

Flustered, Laura put her hands on her hips and straightened her spine so he could clearly see he was dealing with a grown-ass woman and not a toddler. “Oh really, and who’s going to spank me?”

“I am, Laura. Don’t tempt me. I don’t make idle threats.”

She was once again at a loss for words. This was a page ripped straight from one of her books, brought to life. Did people really do such things? He had such big, callused hands. How would they feel? No, oh no, bad Laura, don’t go there!

Time to show him some backbone. “I will not stand here and listen to you threatening me,” she hissed.

He smirked. “Girl, I can see a flush on your cheeks and your nipples hardened.” He stared at her breasts before making eye contact again. “You may protest all you want, but you want a man to control you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, hiding the traitorous peaks, and fumed, “I most certainly do not. I don’t like being told what to do by anyone, especially not by… by a coward who thinks because he’s bigger and stronger, he can just… hit…” But there, she choked and couldn’t fini sh.

His eyes softened immediately and he stepped back, holding up his hands in surrender. “Whoa. I think I misread some signals. From your taste in reading, I assumed you were in the lifestyle.”

Lifestyle? Laura’s mouth fell open. “B-but… Wh-what… Wh-why…” Against her will, she found herself asking, “Are you?”

He smiled widely. “Yes, I am. And when I see a beautiful woman endanger herself, I want to put her over my knee, flip up her skirt and spank her beautiful ass.” He came up to her and invaded her personal space. With his hand under her chin, he tipped her head back so their gazes met. “I know we don’t know each other and we’re not at a party, but we’re stuck here for a while. Clearly, this is something that interests you, so why not? If nothing else, it’ll take our minds off the weather.”

Was he insane? Was she? What other reason could there be for him to suggest such an outrageous thing? And when she should have told him to go to hell, why on Earth did she stammer, “I… I suppose it would.”

His smile broadened and his dark eyes glinted. “So, from now until we leave this place, I am your Dom and you are my submissive. Safeword is red, yellow if you want to slow down.”

With that statement and a devastating smile, he stepped back again, releasing her with a swift caress over her cheek.

Laura sank back on the chair, her legs not able to hold her up.

Outside, the rain eased, but the wind picked up. Trees shook and groaned under the stress of it. Trash, broken branches and other debris she couldn’t identify flew by. Curious and a bit anxious, she walked up to the window once again. She peered through the water-stained glass, trying to see what was out there. When she looked over her shoulder, James was watching her, his mouth set in an unyielding line. He looked positively grim.

Whoops. She hadn’t even agreed to play his little game yet, and it seemed she’d already broken the rules.