Dom Wars: Round Five

  Presenting

  Dom Wars

  Round Five

  By Lucian Bane

  © 2014 by Lucian Bane

  All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Lucian Bane or his legal representative.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  **Translation: If you make a copy of this file and share it with friends, whether it is one or one million friends, you are breaking the law, even if you receive nothing in return. If you receive this file from a friend, both you and your friend are breaking the law. No readers' clubs, groups or associations are authorized to distribute this book on behalf of the authors. Amazon.com is the only authorized online distributor. If you need a different format, please contact the author.

  Author's Notes:

  This series contains explicit scenes of sexual activity. There are scenes of BDSM (kink) activity that may not be for everyone.

  Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, by any of the characters within is entirely accidental.

  Finally, I genuinely hope you enjoy reading "Dom Wars" as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  Acknowledgements:

  Tara, baby, you light up my life.

  Many thanks to the Dom Warriors and the members of the Lucian Bane Fan Group, and the members of the Team, Dana, Jan, and Aden.

  Chapter One

  The phone rang and I bolted up from the sofa and yanked it from the receiver only to have the damn thing try to leap out of my hand before I could get it to my ear.

  "Mr. Bane?"

  "Yes."

  "This is Thaddeus, Dom Wars Coordinator with Gladiator Inc. I'm calling to inform you that you are to meet with your team at the Gladiator headquarters in Atlanta. A car will arrive at your location shortly to take you to the airport. Your chaperone will be given your assignment at ten a.m."

  "My chaperone?"

  "Yes sir."

  "And who is my chaperone?"

  "That is all the information I'm allowed to give. Good luck Mr. Bane."

  He hung up, leaving me to grit my teeth in frustration. No, in fury. I hadn't seen Tara in three days or heard from her after they'd barged into the hotel room like some kind of fucking black budget military operation and escorted us out in opposite directions. You'd swear we'd aided and abetted a radical terrorist infiltration of the local fucking preschool.

  I yanked on a clean t-shirt and grabbed my wallet and keys, guessing that was all I'd need. Guessing they'd tell me, otherwise. Guessing what the fuck was going on, what would happen next, guessing, guessing, every goddamn thing!

  A gray sedan showed up exactly on time and I climbed in the front for the thirty minute ride to the airport. Drumming my thumb on the armrest, I tried not to yank on the leg of my jeans. Of course I'd grab the one pair that strangled my balls.

  And no cell phone. They'd confiscated the company's and our personal ones, which made me nervous as hell. I didn't like being cut off from all my contacts, but no doubt it was because of what we'd done in our last little vacation between Dom War rounds. Still wasn't really sure how the fuck they found out Steve and I had conspired my little visit to Tara, but my guess was by some kind of bug in our phones. I was sure there wasn't anything that could make me regret the little stunt but being handed to the current top Dom had me on my knees, begging for some kind of divine intervention. Intervention with the Preacher fucking Dom, no less. Bad news that one. Just the memory of the monstrosity of a man scarred my mind. Something told me that the darkness in his cold stare was anything but Godly.

  I quickly lost track of how many times I'd nearly driven to Missouri to talk to Tara. Talk sense into her. I mean the need fucking breathed down my neck like a living presence until I roamed restlessly in my apartment like a caged monkey, going from jacking off, to lying awake in terror of what was coming, to speed pacing in useless furious patterns.

  There was just no way we could do this round with ole Mr. Preacher Dom. I'd looked into him, and what I found was… was just too cryptic to take chances with. His sub, a woman with the exotic beauty and regal bearing of some long lost African queen, obeyed him like nobody's business with absolute perfection. Without hesitation. Without question. Without Tara-ism. And the current Top Dom, the white, bald-headed hulking mass of muscle, teeth, and bone, looked like a Roman Gladiator from the pages of history, ready to dominate the world one crushed skull at a time.

  It took exactly five minutes of imagining what the fuck this character might do to Tara for me to know there was no way in hell I was going through this cock-a-pending-shit-gasm. That Preacher Dom thought he was God, and like hell was she getting near him. But Jesus, I needed more than fucking…five whole minutes to convince her stubborn ass that we needed to quit. I'd find a way to get her grandmother out of that nursing home even if it meant robbing a bank and spending the rest of my life in prison to support them making picture frames and cigar boxes with packs of generic cigarettes I won in cards.

  The vehicle wove through New York Monday morning traffic. My muscles were tense with the reckless urge to grab the wheel and plow into another vehicle. If I were in a wreck, she'd have to forfeit. But fuck, my luck somebody would die.

  Yes, she needed me to win Dom Wars, or so she thought. I just had to convince her that we'd find some other way. And I was fully prepared to make promises I couldn't keep or say and do anything I needed to accomplish my goal. I kept my hands in fists and stayed rigidly put on my side of the car until we parked in the unloading zone long enough for me to get out.

  I had a couple of tense moments going through security when the TSA agent demanded to know why I had no checked baggage, and no carry-ons. Apparently, people never flew with only the clothes on their backs, unless they had nefarious intentions. I explained but the jerk refused to acknowledge the possibility. Lucky for me, someone at Gladiator, Inc. had the forethought to make a few phone calls and I was finally allowed to pass through.

  At least I didn't have to wait long to board, but we spent what seemed an eternity sitting on the tarmac. Next to me, a woman tried unsuccessfully to soothe her impatient toddler. I eyed the thrashing baby, wishing I could throw a similar fit.

  Finally we got underway and I managed to sit still, taking comfort in the fact that every minute brought me closer to Tara. Despite the plane's speed, the flight felt like a trans-Atlantic ocean voyage in a paddle boat

  We finally landed in Atlanta and I bypassed the baggage claim area. A tall man in a dark suit immediately dropped in beside me. "Mr. Bane? I'm Thaddeus. We spoke earlier?"

  Not breaking stride, I cleared the curse words from my throat. "I remember. Where's Tara?"

  "Ms. Reese hasn't arrived yet. I'm told she decided on alternate transportation." The guy gave a little half-smile that brought me to an abrupt halt.

  "What the fuck does alternate transportation mean?" The little sane voice in my head said I was out of line but by this point, if I managed not to punch him, I would be happy.

  "Sorry, sir, I don't know. That was the only information I was given."

  What a shock.

  We resumed our hike to the car and drove in silence from the airport to Gladiator, Inc. headquarters.

  Thaddeus pulled into the huge parking lot after passing a security checkpoint while I twisted about, looking for Tara's car. Of course it wasn't there. She'd likely be in another gray sedan, a carbon copy of the one Thaddeus drove.
And no doubt, she'd show up exactly at departure time.

  We headed for the far side of the parking lot, away from the building, a reclaimed warehouse that had been preserved and modernized. Another car already waited at the edge of the lot and Thaddeus drove toward it. As we neared, my heart slammed my ribs in joy and relief. Steve's car.

  Chapter Two

  But I didn't get it. Why Steve's regular car? Did the absence of his limo mean we were staying put for this Round? Was Steve chaperoning again? If we were in one location, we wouldn't need a chaperone, unless they were changing things up. Not to mention, I'd assumed Steve would face penalties for conspiring with me in the violations in the last Round.

  As soon as the car stopped, I bailed out like a rookie cop for a first arrest with Steve meeting me halfway around the car. His best friend smile beamed at a thousand watts, handshake out and ready, as though being there was just an orgasm waiting to happen.

  "What the fuck are you doing here?" I whispered, shaking his hand.

  "I'm your chaperone." He announced it like an ominous pun intended, hacksawing our hands up and down.

  I forced the disengage and wiped my hand on my leg. "For what?"

  "You don't think they'd tell me, do you?"

  "Where's the limo? Are we staying in one place?"

  He shrugged and held his palms out in a who knows gesture. "They called and said to come here immediately and drive my regular car. Remember, they aren't telling me anything." He gave me a sly wink.

  I looked all around then eyed him. "You know where she is?"

  "Not here yet."

  "I see that."

  Steve looked at his watch, either ignoring or missing my annoyance. "But we've got forty-five minutes still." He removed his watch, wound it, then began putting it back on.

  I sighed and paced before him. Steve was likely the only friend I had, now that I thought about it. I needed to keep it that way. "She needs to get here so I can tell her I'm quitting."

  "Quitting?" Alarm raised Steve's voice a little. "Whatever for?"

  I stared at him, feeling the crazy man crimp in my face. "Whatever for?" I angled my head at him, moving into his personal space, ready to bite his ear off and scream the obvious into his brain. How could he fucking ask that?

  He stepped back and eyed me with caution then put up a perfect hand. "If it's the Preacher Dom you're worried about, I've done recon on him. He's harmless."

  I gave a derisive laugh. "And how do you figure that?"

  Steve swallowed, showing obvious bullshit signs. "I mean…I didn't find anything really…"

  I nodded before he could finish. "Yeah, same here, nothing but crypto-mania."

  The sound of music crept up behind me and I turned to find a jalopy of a station wagon pulling into the parking lot, bouncing like the shocks had been shot to hell and back. I put a hand up to shield my eyes from the sun.

  "Who is that?" Steve muttered as the rust bucket drew closer.

  The vehicle made its way toward us, with 'We gonna rock on to electric avenue' rattling the wood panels on the doors. The car finally pulled around to reveal Tara wearing ginormous sunglasses that made her look like a human fly, with a red bandana tied over the top of her head.

  The sudden acceleration of my heartbeat inside my dick made it official. My attraction to her was unstoppable. Incurable. Illogical. There was absolutely no escape for me. And the scariest part? I didn't mind.

  The freak-show quirked my upper lip in weirded-out awe while she sat there with her head bouncing from side to side like some Cheech and Chong movie out-take. Fucking nuts!

  Without thinking, I made my way toward her, drawn like a magnet and powerless to resist.

  Tara continued her oblivious act until I stood at her door. Finally she shut the music off and turned a huge smile up at me. "Love that song." She danced her hands through invisible air waves. "We gonna rock don't chew e-lec-tric avenue. And then we take it higher."

  She opened the door, forcing me to step back, and got out. With a dramatic pause, she took a deep breath and let it out like a woman all caught up on her happy pills after far too long without them.

  "Are you…okay?" It was the last thing I'd expected to be saying to her at this point.

  Her shoulders suddenly sagged dramatically and she let out a sigh and leaned against the car. She removed her sunglasses and tossed them on the seat, revealing puffy and swollen eyes.

  "What's wrong? Tara?"

  My stomach churned with terror as she looked off to the right, shaking her head a bit.

  "Tara, tell me, love." I pulled her into my arms and she didn't resist. "Talk to me, sweetheart. I'm here." The feel of her sent my body into instant emotional orgasm. "God I fucking missed you." I kissed the top of her head and embraced her tightly to me. "I'm here, whatever it is, I'm here. Is it your grandmother?"

  She gave a tiny squeak and nodded.

  "Fuck, what? What is it?"

  "She's…she's not doing well. I need to get her out of there. She's…not eating. She's depressed." Her voice got tinier with each word. She suddenly pushed me away and looked up, a firm sunshine smile on her face. "But I'm good. I told her in just two more weeks I'd have her home. That…I had a best friend…" her face crumpled with a threatening sob, "that was going to help me get the money to see to it." She choked out a little laugh and pointed at my chest. "That would be you." She tilted her head and pointed behind me. "And Steve."

  Fuck. I rolled my eyes up and sighed, then looked down at her. "Why are you… dressed like that? And where is your other car?" It struck me then. "And why are you even driving? They were supposed to fly you in."

  "I sold my car. And refunded the plane ticket." She stared at me with one squinted eye and a daring set to her jaw. "Gramma needed things her Medicare wouldn't cover. I didn't have the money, so I did what I had to."

  "Over…the weekend?"

  She nodded and shrugged. "At a little car lot. Charlie, the owner, is an old family friend, and he helped me out. Gave me two grand and this classic for it." She smacked her hand on the door behind her, averted her gaze and moved her body in an odd way, almost like…she was lying. But why would she? And why about that? "She needed equipment. And extra medication." This with a loud clearing of her throat.

  "So the nursing home—"

  "Wasn't at all interested in helping her more than they had to, since she doesn't own property free and clear." She gave a little shrug and a half smile. "It's how the world works." She hurried around me. "Steve! What are you doing here?" I turned in time to see her bear hug him, and jealousy knifed my gut as I followed.

  "Here to chaperone, it would seem."

  "Chaperone?" Tara turned wide curious eyes to me and I shrugged, trying to figure out how to break the news to her. I braced a palm on Steve's car, chewing my lip while he gave her the low down.

  "I got the call a bit over an hour ago. It was the first I'd heard from the company. They said if I wanted my pay, I had to play." He flashed his freaky grin then went back to somber. "And so here I am. Although I think chaperoning is my only duty this time, since they told me I wouldn't be driving." He sucked his tongue a few times and gave a matter of fact slow nod. "You do the crime, you do the time."

  The odd term reminded me. "Tara, I need to talk to you about this Preacher Dom. I don't like how this can turn out. Do you realize—"

  She held her palm up before my face. "Lucian?" I paused at her firm tone. "I know how you feel about this." Emotional breakdown threatened in her voice. "But I have. To do this. And I need you." She slammed me with a bear hug, nearly knocking me off my feet. "Please don't quit on me."

  Useless conflict bit at my muscles: the urge to scream at her stupidity, the desire to give her what she asked. "Tara, this is a bad fucking idea. I can get a loan. I can sell things. I can find a way to get your grandmother out."

  "How about this?" Steve laid a gentle hand on my shoulder and I looked from it to him, pretty sure I wouldn't appreciate what he was
about to say. He removed his hand with a graceful flick of his wrist. "How about if this…Preacher Dom turns out to be a psycho, we just…quit? We all agree, right here, right now, that if he is a looneytoon, we're out." He dusted his hands with his weird grin in a show of 'all done'.

  "Yes!" Tara nodded emphatically, like that solved all our problems. "Yes, of course, that's the perfect plan and exactly what I was thinking."

  "Oh, I'm sure. I'm very sure you were." I looked at Steve, fighting the sudden urge to push him down just as he looked over my shoulder with uh-oh eyes. I turned as a massive black on black Hummer limo whispered to a stop behind us. Fucker-fucking-mother-fuck.

  The door opened and two men in black suits exited the back of the vehicle. I spied long dark female legs before eying the two men coming to stand before us.

  "Mr. Bane? Ms. Reese? Mr. Harrison? Welcome to Round Five of Dom Wars." The first man smiled, or maybe it was a smirk, next to the announcer who shook all of our hands before turning to the second dude. "This is Benton. He'll be your driver for the duration of this Round. Mr. Harrison will be your chaperone." Mr. Harrison? Was that Steve?

  The announcer pulled an envelope out of his breast pocket and handed it to Steve while giving me a condescending look. "And you and Ms. Reese are the contestants."

  The man's superior attitude rubbed me the wrong way in all kinds of places. "I'm aware of that. Unless you and Benton cared to…" I made a rude gesture to indicate them as a couple and plastered an innocent expression over my face.

  The man glared at me like he wanted to punch my lights out, but to his credit, he didn't reply. Instead, he gestured behind him to the limo. "Your assignment will come at the hands of the current Top Dom, Mr. X. L. Lent as per the conditions of your Punishment." His expression said he would get his revenge watching whatever the Neanderthal in the limo subjected me to. With an almost jovial grin, he pulled out another envelope and handed it to me. Tara snatched the thin packet from my hand and ripped it open.