Dancing With A Dom: A BBW Romance by Katherine Deane Page B

as fun as it had been, would be over in four hours, thirty minutes, and forty-five seconds. Give or take.
    I was going to lose control, lose my Dom, and lose my heart—in front of a live national audience.
    I felt like puking, thankful I hadn’t had those fries after all. I took another peek from behind the curtain. Clenching my fists, I released a low growl and took off the pale-pink dancing heels and tossed them into the corner along with my duffel bag.
    “Come on,” Dane said, giving me a kind smile. “Freaking out about the crowd was not on your long list for tonight.”
    Throwing a heated glare at him before sitting back down to check my makeup—for the fifth time—I expelled a huge huff along with a few mumbled words about his manhood.
    “Enough. I’m adding an item to your list.” He yanked me up onto my feet and pulled me down the corridor to a small utility closet.
    “Oh, no,” I said, digging my feet in as he pulled. “We are not adding a quick sex-capade to my list because you want to get off. You are going to mess up my hair, and the ‘just fucked’ look does not pair well with a waltz.”
    He laughed and closed the door behind us, advancing on me like he was a tiger, and I his mouse. Squeak .
    “Who said anything about fucking?” Turning me so I faced the door, he placed my hands on the doorframe. “I have no intention of messing up your hair. Now, pull up your skirt so I can whip your ass properly.”
    A soft mewl escaped my lips as I rolled up the many layers of sheer, cream chiffon, careful not to wrinkle any of it. I pulled down my cream spankies—those were to keep me from flashing cooch to the audience—and pressed my bare bottom out and up toward him.
    “Have I told you lately how beautiful your ass is?”
    I cooed as he stroked my naked cheeks. Yes, I needed this. So badly.
    “Tell me what you need, little girl.”
    “Whip me until I come. Please?”
    I heard the woosh as his belt slid from the loops of his trousers. Thank God for looped dancing pants and belts. I danced in place, giddy with anticipation for him to lay the first line of fire on my ass.
    What was he waiting for? I asked out loud, more than a little grumpily.
    He grabbed my bottom cheeks, pinching them hard as he leaned forward to whisper in my ear. He smelled like woods on a crisp autumn day—all man. “You are a bossy little sub tonight, aren’t you?”
    I pushed back from the door and spun to face him. “For the record, I am beyond stressed out. I can’t tell if I want to laugh like a maniac or curl up and cry like a baby. It is the mother-effing anniversary of my ex-husband’s little gift to me. And after this is all over, I am going to go back to my little apartment. By...myself.”
    Tears flowed down my cheeks. I should have cared that I was ruining my makeup. But, screw it. I didn’t care. My heart already hurt. And would get worse throughout the evening as each couple danced our two dances for the audience, leading to the final vote and tally of the night. A celebration I feared with every fiber of my being.
    I rocked back and forth, my fists clenched, as I squinted and turned from him. I was melting down in epic proportion, and the last thing I needed was to see his reaction.
    “I need you to help me through this one moment. Get me past this, and I’ll be your perfect dancing partner. Then when it’s all over, we can both go our separate ways.” I still refused to meet his gaze. “Just spank me and get it over with. Please.”
    His soft touch caressed my cheek and dried my tears. I nuzzled up against his strong, warm palm. It felt so good. I didn’t want him to release me. My lips trembled as he soothed me.
    “You’re wrong about one thing, my beautiful sub.” The timbre of his voice sounded off, almost strangled. His eyes blazed with heat and his whole face lit up with something I hadn’t seen in a long time. It looked an awful lot like love. “Let me share my list with you.” His mouth