Baiting the Dom

By Rayann Kendal

Two dominant personalities in under one roof can lead to a lot of tension. When BDSM is explored, things can get interesting.

Stella isn't sure about this side of her boyfriend. She likes the little taste of domination he asserted, but Dan just dropped a bomb. He wants to go to a play party. More than that, he wants her to submit. Thing is, Stella isn't that kind of a girl.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steamy eReads
• Release date: May 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215726389

Book preview

Give me one reason not to kick you out of my kitchen right now.

His voice roared over the din of the hustling cooks, the clattering pans, the shouts and sizzles. Stella looked up from the appetizer station, sweating in the heat of the open flames and the closeness of bodies. Chef Collier was an inch from the nose of the new line chef. Hell week was what he called it. He would dry hump the new employees, beating them like a mule, and take the entire staff along for the ride. He was an intense ass to begin with, but he ratcheted up the show for the benefit of weeding out the week—not many cared to stay. Stella was the longest lasting chef in the restaurant, and she was constantly on the verge of quitting.

A white blur of a plate rocketed across the isle way, shattering to pieces over the dessert station. Luckily, all their prep was well covered. The rattle and clamor of pots and pans and the hiss of fire never ceased. Chef Collier came back, with a finger dangerously close to piercing the new girls tear filled retina.

Douse one more salad with a liter of dressing and you can kiss your career goodbye. He took his aggression out on a large, metal bowl, flipping it halfway across the kitchen, where it showering greens and finally crashing to the floor. If they wanted soup, they would have ordered soup. A line chef who can’t even prepare lettuce. He snarled at her and, lowering his voice, growled, Pathetic. I will make sure you are black balled from any respectable chef’s kitchen within the city limits.

The woman flinched as Chef Collier’s vehement words flicked spittle onto her face. Stella’s anger was rising. Every damned time. Too much salt. Too little salt. Not enough garnish. Garnish overflowing the plate. Drips of sauce on the brim. Messy work station. All crimes met with punishing force. It had been a never ending litany of offenses since dinner service had begun. All the staff, regardless of experience, suffered under his eagle eyed scrutiny. He picked them to pieces. Stella’s pan crashed down on the burner and she spun on her heel.

Christ, Chef, leave her alone for one damned minute. No one can function with you breathing down our necks. Lay the fuck off.

I could feel the sweat trickle down my temple as the clamor came to a sudden halt. Not again. All eyes on me. You don’t talk back to Chef. Yes, Chef was the only address he cared to hear during service.

Chef Collier turned to me, head tilted, eyes flaming. "Mind your own damned station. You will work on this team. You will do as