Free Dancing With A Dom: A BBW Romance by Katherine Deane

away. “I don’t need your pity. I’m fat, okay?”
    But he didn’t let me go. Instead he gripped me tighter. “”Don’t talk about my girl that way. I’m not here to feel sorry for you. I’m here to hold you.” Kissing me gently on the forehead, he turned me so I could receive the full spray from the shower.
    I melted against him and opened myself up to his strength. It felt safe. It felt right.
    Dane held me and let me cry. And it felt nice. Sleepy, warm, sad, but not alone, I bathed, with a fully dressed man in my shower. My Dom was proving, once again, he could do anything. We would have to talk later. But, first, I just wanted to be held. So that’s what he did.
    In a long stream of hot, luscious water and lavender-scented bubbles that he sudsed into my hair and all over every inch of my body, I let go.
     
    ***
     
    Dane sat her down in front of him on the soft mat and pulled another towel down to dry her hair.
    “You know I can do this myself,” she muttered, but made no move to pull away.
    “I know. But I want to do it.”
    She shrugged and leaned back as he pulled the towel across the long, luscious dark strands of her silky hair. They were a dark mahogany when wet and looked gorgeous against her pale complexion.
    “I’m sorry about the other night.” He felt her tense against his legs. “You shouldn’t have had to hear that.”
    When she turned to glare at him with fierceness in her eyes, he almost fell back into the tub. “Yeah, they should have turned off the sound system,” she spat.
    “No. Because it wasn’t true.” He stroked her cheek and she softened against him, tears starting to spill again. “Turn around. I’m not done with your hair.”
    She obeyed, and he watched the tension ease out of her shoulders as he massaged the top of her scalp with hard, slow strokes. “I’m not usually this big a baby.”
    “I know. But you’ve had a lot happen this past year. You’ve held together pretty damn well in my opinion.”
    She shrugged.
    “I almost knocked those guys on their asses and fired them for the things they said. They’re not true. None of it. You mean a lot to me, and I think I…” He stopped when she tensed against him again. She wasn’t ready to hear that he was falling in love with her. Talk of commitment and her being the one would probably spook her. “You’re the best partner I’ve ever had.”
    “Even better than Sveta?”
    He detected a note of jealousy in her voice, and tugged her hair so he could kiss her forehead. “Little girl, you are three times the woman Sveta is.”
    “That sounds about right,” she said sarcastically and pulled away from him to stand up, her towel falling to the floor at her feet as she turned to walk out the bathroom door.
    He yanked her to him and swatted her still-warm ass hard and fast as she yelped and tried to get out of his firm grasp. “You don’t get to bully my partner. And I didn’t mean it like that.”
    Anger and hurt still filled her eyes, and her cheeks were flushed, but she shrugged and muttered, “If you say so.”
    Stroking her smooth re-heated bottom cheeks, he pulled her against his hard groin. “I definitely say so. See what you do to me?” He pressed himself against her wet pussy, wishing he could get out of these drenched jeans. They were killing him. “Sveta was a great dance partner, and we had a relationship for a while, but it didn’t work out. We both had different needs.” He pulled her to sit on his lap as he sat back down on the edge of the tub. “I need someone strong, full of passion and fire. Someone who doesn’t fit into the typical mold of ballerina type with bleached-blonde hair. A woman who can tell me to go to hell one minute, and then submit to me whipping her ass the next.”
    He felt her breathing increase against his neck.
    “I need someone who gets turned on by me calling her little girl or slut or subbie. Someone like you.” He hugged her and kissed her softly on her lips.