Under His Dominance, page 18
Under His Dominance
A Secret Baby Romance
Love Under Lockdown, Book 33
A series of standalone quarantine romance books.
Copyright © 2021 Jamie Knight Romance.
All rights reserved.
Jamie Knight –
Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author
Here are the books so far in the Love Under Lockdown series:
1): Under Lock & Key
2): Under Lockdown
3): Under Strict Orders
4): Stuck Together
5): Under His Roof
6): Under the Hawaiian Sun
7): Under Wraps
8): Under His Care
9): Under the Sheets
10): Dating During Lockdown
11): Under His Protection
12): Locked Down with Mr. Right
13): Under His Watchful Eye
14): Below Deck
15): Under the Rancher’s Firm Hand
16): Under His Suit
17): Who Wants to Lock Down a Billionaire?
18): Under His Discipline
19): Under the Want Ads
20): Cramped Quarters
21): Lock Step
22): Under His Ownership
23): Under the Mistletoe
24): Under the Countdown
25): Under Cupid’s Contract
26): Under His Charm
27): Under His Influence
28): Next Door Hater
29): D.I.L.F Dad I'd Like to Fight
30): Bedside Manner
31): Her Hero
32): Under the Fireworks
New books are always being added.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One – Claudia
Chapter Two – Sven
Chapter Three – Claudia
Chapter Four – Sven
Chapter Five – Claudia
Chapter Six – Claudia
Chapter Seven – Sven
Chapter Eight – Claudia
Chapter Nine – Sven
Epilogue – Claudia
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Books in the Love Under Lockdown Series
Chapter One – Claudia
As I walked to campus, I felt as if I was grabbing hold of the last days of September with all my might. The summer smells were still clinging to the crisp autumn air.
The path of red bricks led the way through the grove of red alder trees. The route had been somewhat altered from the old days, with a new stadium standing where only the trees in the woods once stood. Now there was only a sliver of it remaining, and this path served as a shortcut for students and rabbits alike.
When I reached the clearing, the building came into view, shining like a beacon in the wild. Both a part of the college and not, the Fricker Recording School occupied a strange sort of limbo status. The building was physically on campus, using the larger institution’s clout and accreditation, while the school issued its own degrees.
Cooler weather already prevailed, causing bumps to appear on my arms— even though they were under my long-sleeved shirt, so no one could see them. Even in the heat, I never showed much skin. I’m too shy about my body, especially with my big boobs that seemed to insist on bouncing even while I would just be strolling.
Sports bras helped some, but not much. Unwanted, prying eyes still seemed to be drawn to my chest no matter what I wore.
It was more the fault of my large body than the clothes I wore on top of it, and there was nothing to be done. And there was no one to blame except maybe my mom, who had a similar figure and likely had to go through all the same stuff in her younger days. I carried the large bulk of my body as best as I could, refusing to let anyone make me feel ashamed of my genes.
Still, I felt shy about it and didn’t want to reveal it to just anyone. I was still a virgin and wasn’t sure if I’d ever trust anyone with my vulnerabilities.
Once I reached the classroom, I saw two signs greeting me. One announced that class was cancelled and the other showed the office hours that the instructor would be having the next day for anyone who had questions about the assigned reading.
“Only the third time this month,” my classmate Gloria sniffed.
She had arrived at the same time I had.
“Professor Schultz has a delicate disposition,” I said, in a feeble attempt at defending him.
“Well then, he should probably drink less.”
I couldn’t argue with her– not unless I shouted, anyway, as Gloria was already on her way out the door. Plus, Professor Schultz did have the reputation of being an alkie, so it wasn’t like I could stick up for him all that much.
Deciding to carpe the diem, I went for an early lunch, with my fingers crossed in hopes that the cafeteria would be open. It could have slipped into a different dimension for all I knew. I’d never been there outside the set mealtimes.
Strike up the band and praise the heavens, I thought, when I arrived and saw that the cafeteria was indeed operating at full capacity despite it not yet being lunch time.
“Hello there,” said a familiar voice.
The universe was laughing at me, giving me some new shit to deal with on a different day. Eduardo Hernandez, an art professor here at the school, was standing with his charming Cheshire cat-like grin, his eyes looking like pebbles of black onyx with a single tiny star shining in each one.
“Hi,” I said, looking down at his chrome-heeled boots.
Sometimes I really hated my shyness.
“Join me for lunch?” he offered.
“Okay.”
His reputation preceding him, Professor Hernandez was a rumor-mill mainstay around campus for years. Handsome beyond reason and with off-the-charts talent, it seemed there wasn’t a straight female, student or staff member, who hadn’t tried to hook up with him at least once. He never bit, no matter how tasty the bait, and no matter how hot the girl.
Professor Hernandez served a higher master: himself. He resolutely refused to go against his own principles, which included not dipping his pen in the company ink or cavorting with girls half his age. The power dynamics were simply too sleazy.
Eduardo Hernandez was a lot of things, many of which he wore on his sleeve, but a creep wasn’t one of them. And that was a fact that only made everyone want him even more.
“How are your classes going?” he asked me, once we had paid for our food and were seated.
“Today, they’re not going at all so far,” I told him. “Professor Schultz cancelled the one I’m supposed to be in right now.”
He nodded, not looking surprised.
“You know, between you and me, I heard he suspected he has Covid,” Professor Hernandez said.
“Really?” I gasped, feeling bad for thinking he was drunk.
“Yeah. It’s safer for him to not come to campus, and to isolate at home while he awaits test results,” he said. “Everyone thought we’d be back to normal for this new semester, but the Delta variant seems to be wreaking havoc on our best-laid plans.”
“That makes sense,” I said. “Except that he posted office hours for tomorrow.”
“I suspect those will be changed to Zoom meetings, if his test results are positive,” Professor Hernandez said.
“I see.”
I tried to not to think about Covid fears. I was trying to have a good semester and not be too anxious.
As if reading my mind, Professor Hernandez said, “So, how goes everything else? How are your other classes coming along this semester so far?”
“Great. I mean, they’re really tough, but that’s why I wanted to go to Fricker’s. I’m enjoying it.”
“Good to hear. So, what are you working on now?”
“Getting a job, mostly. I still have bills to pay and all. It’s surprisingly difficult.”
“Welcome to the music industry, my friend.”
I nodded, feeling stupid for assuming that he wouldn’t know any of this. In addition to being an art teacher, Professor Hernandez was also a talented musician, who had even had albums recorded.
It was a sight to see, really.
And it was one that many of us did see when we went to hear his gigs: Our art professor standing on the stage in one of his beautiful, arcane outfits, playing an acoustic guitar and crooning his heart out, lyrics funny and strange, just like him.
There was even an accordion player and violinist with him on the stage, adding further depth and color to the proceedings.
“Everyone thinks it’s so cool how you’re in a band,” I told him, my cheeks blushing because I didn’t want him to think I was one of the many female students with a crush on him.
I was just trying to make conversation but sometimes that came awkwardly to me.
“How long have you been performing?”
“Oh, about twenty years now. I started when I was eighteen, talking my way into clubs around town. That’s definitely one way to do it, although… hmmm, are you twenty-one?”
“Yes.”
Just barely, but yes.
“Good
“Okay, I promise.”
“Anyway, one thing led to another, weeks turned to months, months to years, and here I am,” he continued. “Two decades deep with nine albums and a day job to make rent. Glamorous, no?”
“Well, I mean, it sounds good to me. You’re doing what you love.”
“You got me there, little miss. I do have music lodged like a bullet in my black little heart, and I love corrupting the next generation of artists– creatively, anyway. People are going to be shocked when they start having gallery shows.”
His smile was beatific, a picture of pure pleasure in mischief, which reminded me of the first Google results for Loki’s Laugh. It was a band that I liked that had taken a while to catch on but was now considered up and coming, thanks to being signed with the record label Suspicious Activity.
Seth Black, a former musician, headed up the label and helped produce the albums, and all its bands were successful.
What Professor Hernandez was talking about doing to work one’s way up the music scene did sound like fun, to tell the truth.
I’d taken his art class before I had learned that music was more my thing than art was— in fact, he had encouraged me to pursue it— but I had heard stories, both in person and in passing, his legend growing with each year, of him making the rounds at local nightclubs.
And that was what caused some friends and I to venture out and see him, even though I didn’t want to admit that to him right now.
Other than that one class I had taken of his, our paths had crossed on campus crossed like bones at end-of-year shows. Tall, dark and ravishing with a glass of champagne in his hand, he had to be the hippest goth in the land, faculty heads turning in his wake.
“In fact, I might be able to help you out,” he said now.
“Please, don’t tease me.”
I really didn’t think my poor heart could take it. I was intimately acquainted with disappointment, but stoicism only went so far. Cynicism, in the classical sense, seemed even more appealing, and I liked to try to tell myself not to get my hopes up.
“I’d never do that,” he insisted. “It’s not my style. I really think I can help you get a job in the music industry– or I can at least help you get a foot in the door. I’ve recorded a few times with Suspicious Activity Records and happen to be on a first name basis with Seth Black.”
I just stared at him when he said this, trying not to let my eyes fall out of my head.
“I could email him and see if he might be looking to extend a job opportunity to a bright young student such as yourself,” he said. “Between you and me, I’d be shocked if he didn’t want to help you out. It’s just the way he is.”
“That would be so amazing,” I told him. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem. Just call and follow up after I contact him, so he knows you’re the type to take initiative. I know he likes that about people. I’ll be sure to mention in my email that you’ll call soon.”
“I don’t have his number,” I blurted out, my excitement getting the better of me.
Like a magician, Professor Hernandez, or Boo Slim as he was known to his fans, reached into his pitch-black pirate coat, bedecked with dragons, and conjured a card.
Seth’s business card was bone white with clear black type, and simply a thing of beauty. Tiny symbols came together to spell out the name of Seth Black, along with both his office and cell phone number.
Fingers shaking, I took it from his hand while grasping it tightly, praying he wouldn’t pull it away. True to his word, the card was there in my grasp.
I couldn’t believe I had a direct line to a giant in my chosen field. Yet one still humble enough to remember where he came from.
If I had a chance, this was it. The work would probably be hard, and it would have to be balanced with class.
It could really kick my ass, but I wouldn’t expect anything less. If there was one thing I learned from my dad, it was that if you aspire to greatness, you should be ready to pay in blood. Creativity was not for the weak, and neither was true mastery.
“Thank you so much.”
My voice was so weak that for a moment it seemed I’d just thought that phrase instead of said it out loud. Had any sound actually escaped my mouth?
“You’re welcome,” he said, in a way that made me both want to cry and laugh at the same time.
So, I had managed to speak. And I had managed to land an in with a dream job, with the record label that had been such a big part of my music goals, particularly in high school. It was cliché, to be sure, yet still true, nonetheless.
Suspicious Activity’s records didn’t quite “save my life,” but like any good art, they made it a lot more bearable.
“Why are you doing this for me?” I asked Professor Hernandez, feeling more grateful than I’d ever felt about anything.
“I like to help students here at the school,” he said. “I’ve had some favors done for me, and I enjoy paying it forward.”
I guess that that class being canceled started out my lucky day, because I was so glad that I had come to the cafeteria at this odd hour when Professor Hernandez was also here.
Now it was time to go get this job, and the sky would be the limit from there.
* * *
It turned out that from there, getting the job was kind of easy. Holly Jones, the receptionist, was being promoted to Seth Black’s assistant since his wife Jonna was spending more time at home with their baby. And when I called Seth after Professor Hernandez emailed him, he’d said I could take Holly’s place.
Holly Jones was kind of a legend in the community.
As receptionist, she was the gatekeeper to the Suspicious Activity offices, except she wasn’t really all that mean, once you got to know her.
She didn’t seem to be hold a grudge against me for taking over her old job, which was a relief. I’d rather make friends than enemies any day. Plus, she seemed happy in her promotion and liked working as Seth’s assistant.
Now I’d been working at Suspicious Activity for about a week when someone walked into the receptionist area that I didn’t know.
The elevator dinged in the distance, my spine stiffening for impending engagement. I was prepared for anything that might walk in– except him.
With short, dark hair and dressed in minimalist chic, like a younger Lucien Greaves, the man who entered the reception area was more handsome than any I’d ever seen.
“Is Seth here?” he asked, his low, growly voice making my panties instantly damp.
“No, Sir, he is out with his family.”
I hadn’t meant to call him “sir.” But Sven was kicking my natural submissive tendencies into high gear.
“Oh, right, okay.”
“I could ask him to call you when he gets back, Sir.”
“Yes, please do that.”
“And what is your number?”
He gave it to me slow and clear as I made a note.
“And your name?”
“Sven,” he said, looking at me as if I should know that.
“Oh, yes, of course, Sir,” I told him, hoping I hadn’t turned him off to me too much from the get-go.
I had heard of this man with the strange name.
He was the recording engineer for the company.
There were rumors that he liked to engage in BDSM. Other women had whispered about it.
My face flushed as I thought about how much I’d like him to do such things to me.
I nodded as he left, and then I double checked the number I had written down on my sticky note.
I would give Seth the message, of course, but not before saving the number in my phone.
I was determined to find out more about this sexy man whose presence had lit up the place instantly.
And I was equally determined to lose my virginity to him.
Chapter Two – Sven
I rarely went into the main Suspicious Activity Records office, because Seth had his priorities and, since I was the recording engineer, he preferred that I stay at The Sanctuary, which is what we all called the recording studio that was off-site from the main building.
