Bittersweet Dominance E-Book

Mia Kingsley

• Herausgeber: Black Umbrella Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Bittersweet Submission
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 129

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Two domineering alpha males. One remote cabin. A lot of wild emotions. My brother has the audacity to send two bodyguards to my home just because a stranger is threatening me on the internet. My new babysitters are attractive, I give them that—but they're also pretty annoying, bossy, and downright obnoxious. I have to get rid of them, yet I can't help but wonder if two men are double the trouble or double the fun?   This dark mfm romance novella is safe, with no cheating and a guaranteed HEA.

Leseprobe

BITTERSWEET DOMINANCE

BITTERSWEET SUBMISSION 2

MIA KINGSLEY

A DARK ROMANCE

CONTENTS

Bittersweet Dominance

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

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

About the Author

BITTERSWEET DOMINANCE

Two domineering alpha males.

One remote cabin.

A lot of wild emotions.

My brother has the audacity to send two bodyguards to my home just because a stranger is threatening me on the internet.

My new babysitters are attractive, I give them that—but they’re also pretty annoying, bossy, and downright obnoxious. I have to get rid of them, yet I can’t help but wonder if two men are double the trouble or double the fun?

This dark mfm romance novella is safe, with no cheating and a guaranteed HEA.

1

SHANE

By now, I was more than happy that we had parked several yards away from the house. The sign reading "No trespassing! Unauthorized persons prohibited!" had me wondering, but I didn't feel worried.

However, the same couldn't be said for the bear traps, trip wires, and pit traps, which were scattered all over the property.

Mr. Jenkins had cautioned us that his sister wouldn't be happy about our visit, and also that she was rather peculiar. But he must have forgotten to mention how crazy she basically had to be.

According to his statement, Ryanne Jenkins was in her mid-twenties and a gaming designer—whatever that meant. Presumably a nerd with glasses wearing a plaid flannel shirt—although, with this kind of information, I immediately pictured a man instead of a woman.

As I observed the wooden cabin, Brann suddenly grabbed my arm and nodded toward the ground.

"The wire," he said and rubbed his chin. "This is not a trap. I assume that this one powers up the security cameras, if you step on it."

"Am I the only one thinking this is weird?"

He shook his head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that a middle-aged survivalist lives here. One who has something to hide."

I shared his impression, and although I had seen a lot, I felt a small shiver run down my back. After fifteen years in the army, I should have felt less on edge, but something about this remote property bothered me.

"Have you seen a picture of her?" I asked as I scanned the ground and placed my feet carefully with each step.

"Only the one that you saw."

I grumbled, cautiously stepping forward. The most recent picture Mr. Jenkins had been able to produce of his sister had shown her at the age of seventeen.

Since she lived in such seclusion and thoroughly guarded her privacy, we hadn't even been able to find out anything else about her on the internet. It was extremely frustrating because this wasn't normal in today's world. To not find even the slightest bit of personal information about Ryanne, with all the selfies, social media and online dating platforms available, made me just as suspicious as her well-prepared garden did.

According to her brother, Ryanne was being threatened by some anonymous stranger via the internet, which was the reason we were supposed to protect her. She, however, didn't know about this little treat. He had already warned us. Ryanne would most definitely not react positively to our arrival.

"Should we once scan the area around the house and meet back here?" I suggested.

"Sure." With this curt response, Brann turned and skulked off in the opposite direction.

I was used to his brusque answers, and they no longer bothered me. We had met in the army and had pretty much been together ever since. It had been a logical conclusion, after all those years in the government services, to keep working together afterward.

At first, we hadn't really been sure how to apply the skills we'd accumulated over the years in a useful way, but the idea of showing up in some office every morning at nine, wearing a suit and a perfectly ironed shirt and tie, hadn't tickled either one of us.

When a headhunter approached us to work for a security firm, we took his idea and founded our own agency. Having followed the commands of others for so long, we both felt that we no longer liked being told what to do and wanted to work on our own. Although we worked together, we didn't collaborate with others.

Since we had plenty of project offers, we had the luxury of choosing which ones we wanted to take. I couldn't really put a finger on it, but the way Mr. Jenkins, her brother, had described Ryanne, her secluded address, and her phantom-like presence made me more curious than usual.

Her brother worked in the stock market and he had enough money to pay us. For me—apart from a successful mission—this was the main thing, because we tended to opt for the high-caliber commissions. We had put our necks on the line for pittance for long enough.

We were very good at what we did, and despite this strange initial situation, I was confident that we would also be able to protect Ryanne. Although, I was slowly but surely feeling the urge to retire and set up my final camp. I hadn't yet spoken to Brann about this, but I assumed he felt the same way.

As I looked up at the rustic outside of the cabin, I noticed how much these surroundings appealed to me despite having to block out the trip wires and sharp teeth on the bear traps that peeked through the fallen leaves all over the place.

Sherman Drive, where Ryanne lived, was around ten miles away from the small town of Sherman, in the middle of the forest in the state of Oregon. Fall had changed the foliage to reds and yellows, and I felt a yearning that I found almost awkward.

We still hadn't found a permanent residence, just an office in New York City where our sweet little secretary was working for us. Over the course of the last year, we had only come face to face with her twice, and by now I'd kind of had enough of all this traveling.

Could I imagine living in such a remote area?

I shook my head to rid my mind of these dreams. Instead I focused on the window frames. This log cabin gave the impression of being solid and cozy—when in fact it resembled more of a fortress.

Safety glass in the windows, surveillance cameras, and fine wires randomly crisscrossed all across the ground.

I heard steps behind me. After all these years, his gait was as familiar to me as my own. Brann sighed, and when I turned to look at him, he stood in front of me with his arms crossed in front of chest.

"I don't like this."

I nodded. "I don't like it either."

"Just on the outside alone there are seventeen cameras, and they're hidden damned well. Is this lady paranoid?"

Once again, I looked up at the house. "No idea. Isn't she a little too young for that? Apart from this, her brother told us she wouldn't even take those threats seriously, which was why he hired us."

"First of all, I don't believe paranoia is tied to any particular age limit, and secondly, those comments about her on the internet were extremely hateful."

I shrugged. "Everybody feels powerful on the internet. Let's talk to her and see what she says about it all."

"She isn't home."

At this point, I had already come to the same conclusion. With all these cameras, she would have long made some kind of announcement.

"We could still give it a try and knock," I offered.

"Sure," my best friend replied, and in that very same moment, he pulled out a lock pick. "After you knock, you'll take care of the alarm system on the inside."

He was right. It was merely politeness on my part since she clearly wasn't there. Which made me wonder, because her brother had been unable to imagine any scenario in which Ryanne would leave her house voluntarily.

"I found fresh tire tracks behind the house, so she must have a vehicle. Who owns it, I don't know. Also, she must be a very good driver, because she left the property spiked with traps, with hardly enough width between them for a car. She definitely knows what she's doing."

Brann knelt in front of the main door and expertly picked the lock within mere seconds.

Neither of us wanted to go inside since it was rather likely that the house was riddled with traps, just as much as the outside was. However, we couldn't afford to hesitate for too long or the alarm would go off.

After we entered the house and closed the door behind us, I searched for the alarm system panel.

There was none.

"What the hell?" I wondered. "Every inch of the yard is secured, but the house isn't?"

Brann looked around. "Well, it kind of makes sense. I mean, she's sitting smack in the middle of all those cameras and traps. Why would she have to secure the inside, too, if she can see every new arrival several hundred yards before they reach the house? And it's questionable whether said person even makes it that far without setting foot in one of those bear traps."

"She must be completely insane."

Brann turned toward me with a grin. "Or she's hiding something."

Before I could ask about his speculations, he walked back to the door and fumbled around its frame. I was impressed when he pulled out a hunting knife with a long blade.

"Maybe we should search the house before she returns. Who knows how many knives she has hidden?"

"That would be wise. But watch out so you don't trip over any wire. I'm getting the impression that Ryanne really might be a little crazy."

* * *

"It beats me." Brann sat on a chair in the kitchen.

As a precaution, I counted them again before I also sat down. "I'm really curious about her. I can't wait to meet this lady."

My buddy snorted. "My desire is limited."

Over the past hour, we had found and retrieved twenty-four knives, one ax and three guns from their hiding places. They now laid safely inside my black duffle bag.

Ryanne would have quite a few unpleasant surprises once she arrived back home. I had called her brother and he had no idea where she could be. I hadn't told him what we found. Why bother? Until I spoke to her, I wouldn't have a clearer picture of who she was.

We would just wait for her. Our vehicle was hidden and we had time—time we were getting paid for.

Brann opened the laptop we had found in her bedroom. "Showtime."

Technology wasn't my strong suit, with the exception of alarm systems, so I was relieved to find that he was checking out her computer voluntarily.

At the same time, I didn't expect it to yield any results. Ryanne's main occupation was a gaming designer, which meant she was probably much better at handling all these programs anyway.

Mr. Jenkins had also mentioned something about hacking, but he couldn't say whether there was any truth to it.

"Everything is encrypted," Brann grumbled. He sounded impatient. "Apart from her porn files."

"What?"

"You heard me." With this, he turned the laptop around and let a video play. "Gangbanging at its best."

"Maybe we could use this as a clue about where she might be right now. I wouldn't tell my brother about this either," I said, closing the laptop.

We chuckled and some of the tension dissipated. Neither of us liked this situation. We didn't know anything about Ryanne, apart from the facts we had observed ourselves. There were no signs of a man—or a woman—in her life, and in the entire cabin we hadn't found one photograph. Not of her, nor of her family or friends. Just weapons, computers, tablets, and cell phones, although most of them didn't seem to work.

I still wasn't sure whether to be excited or perturbed. Who was Ryanne Jenkins? What had led her to pull away from everything to this secluded place, and to secure her property like a fortress?

Brann straightened. His hearing was much better than mine, but after a couple of seconds, I heard the sound of an engine, too.

"By the looks of it, our client is returning home. Ready?“

Grinning, Brann nodded and got up to position himself next to the door.

2

RYANNE

I wasn't exactly speaking from experience, but dicks had to have some kind of magic about them. I couldn't for the life of me explain why else one of my few girlfriends would marry a man of her own free will.

By all means, he could be considered attractive and the things she had told me about him in the sex department sounded acceptable, too. But to spend day and night with another person?

This notion made me feel extremely oppressed.

This whole trip hadn't been good for me at all. I was agitated and couldn't wait to get back to the peace and quiet of my forest. Just me and the songbirds.

It wasn't far now, and with each mile I grew calmer. Shortly before Sherman, I would quickly stop to get gas so I'd have a fully fueled vehicle at my disposal in case of emergency, and then I would finally drive home.

In my mind, I was already lying in bed, watching some meaningless series on Netflix, as I turned on the blinker and approached the gas station.

Despite the late hour, the air was still quite mild, but I could sense the fall breeze coming. Soon enough it would be freezing cold and the wind would pick up a notch.

Right now it blew softly around my legs, but it wasn't even cool, not enough to make me shiver.

I filled the gas tank and walked into the small building with the lopsided roof to pay. On a whim, I added a couple of chocolate bars and a bottle of Coke to the bill, setting them on the counter. It was the real Coca-Cola because I can't stand artificial sweeteners.

The female cashier was probably a few years younger than me, and I didn't want to think for too long about whether it was a good idea for her to work the night shift at a remote gas station alone.

She looked up and noticed my concern. "Shotgun under the counter."

I smiled at her even though it angered me that I must have stared at her so obviously. "That's what I wanted to hear. Have a good night, then."

"Thanks."

When I returned to my car, I immediately noticed a trucker curiously staring into the passenger window of my vehicle.

"Nice car," he announced and looked up.

I nodded politely and went to walk around him. With a swift movement, he blocked me from getting into my car, so I quickly opened the back door and put the chocolate and Coke in the back seat. I instinctively knew that I would soon need both of my hands free.

"How much horsepower does this baby have?"

Maybe my initial impression had deceived me, and he really only wanted to admire the car. I still felt safer knowing that I had my knife in the back of my waistband.