Truth or Dare (The Dominator #2) Read Online D.D. Prince

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Dominator Series by D.D. Prince
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Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
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Hours later I was getting antsy. I didn’t like that Chen hadn’t caught Jason Frost yet.

Tommy was getting his counselor to fly in from the UK for Lisa because she hadn’t budged yet. He said things were tense with him and Tia, that they weren’t really speaking to one another, and he admitted to me that he felt like he was unraveling. Add to that the fact that my phone was ringing off the hook with work shit, shit that I’d been neglecting because of all the drama I’d been entrenched in.

I was in and out of the cabin on the phone, texting, and trying to deal with a dozen things at once. I was in a bad fucking mood.

As I headed out the door with a new pack of smokes, I heard Angel say, “Maybe you shouldn’t smoke so much.”

“Yeah and maybe it was better when you asked permission before you spoke,” I snapped.

Her expression dropped, her shoulders sagged, and I wished I could snatch it back.

“Angel, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.” I rushed to her and pulled her tight against me. “Forgive me?”

She shook her head a little. “No, Sir.” She said it with pain rather than venom.

My heart hit my gut. I deserved that. I deserved the ‘Sir’ because I’d just treated her like they treated her. I scooped her up, took her upstairs, and lay her down in bed, climbing in beside her.

I caressed her face. “Too much goin’ on. Bad fucking mood today. I’m so sorry. I’ll never say anything like that again. Ever. Promise. So sorry, baby.”

Her eyes were cold. But she didn’t pull away. It killed me that she would never pull away from me even if she wanted to, but like a selfish prick I took advantage of that sad fact and held her close to me.

“You’re allowed to be mad at me,” I whispered. “Go ahead, pull away. Call me a fucking bastard. Smack me in the face.”

She stared at the ceiling, hugging herself while I held her.

“If I told you to spread your legs for me right now, you’d do it, wouldn’t you?” I growled in her ear, “You’d do it despite the fact that I just cut you deep with my words. You’d do it and you’d get wet for me, wouldn’t you?”

Her lower lip trembled.

“Baby, you have every right to be pissed at me. You have every right to call me out on my shit. I need someone to do that, you know? Call me out when I’m being a prick. Tell me to fucking cool it. I need that.”

She choked on a sob but held it in, best as she could.

“You are supposed to be everything I need, Angel, and I need that. I need you to be real with me. I need you to dig deep and find the girl you used to be and show her to me. I am crazy about all of what I’ve had from you so far. You’re in here.” I thumped on my chest with my fist. “I want the rest of you, too.”

“Can you please leave me alone for a while, Dare?”

That was a start. It wasn’t yelling and screaming and pounding her fists on my chest out of anger, frustration, and pain, but it was a start.

“Sure.” I let go of her and kissed her forehead. “Again, I’m sorry. I really mean that.”

She shook her head, pain in her eyes.

As I left the room, I called back, “I will do my best to keep giving you what you need. I need you to give me what I need, too, baby. This relationship needs to go both ways.”

I stepped outside but didn’t light the cigarette. I grabbed a long stick from a brush pile and a hunting knife from the nearby toolshed and started to whittle it. It was a skill my Icelandic grandfather taught me. It’d been a while but years ago it’d always been something that relaxed me. Maybe taking it up again would help me quit smoking. She was right. I’d been smoking a pack and a half a day the last few days and I was wheezing.

I sat for a while outside and whittled and then when I went back in I found her reading a magazine up in the bedroom. She didn’t look at me, but I felt her go tense when I stopped at the foot of the bed, about to talk to her.

My phone rang. It was Zack.

“You ready for this?” is how he greeted me.

“Yeah man.” I sat and braced.

“Gan Chen is in the hospital. Multiple gunshot wounds. Not sure if he’ll survive. His body guards are dead. You out there in the woods with just two guards, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Your father’s house might be better. You should probably try to get there. You’re too vulnerable.”



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