Mr. OH Read online

  Table of Contents

  Mr. OH

  Publication Information

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Also Read

  Thank You

  Mr. OH

  by

  Vonnie Davis

  Billionaire Doms Book One

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Mr. OH

  COPYRIGHT © 2017 by Vonnie Davis

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Diana Carlile

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com

  Publishing History

  First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2017

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-1816-5

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1817-2

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To tattoo artist Rob at Caspian Tattoos

  who openly and completely informed me about the training and business of body art as he inked a blue butterfly on my ring finger. He took the time to show me all the equipment and explain what could go wrong if a tattooist wasn’t careful. Rob also does MMA on the weekends and was the inspiration for one of my characters. Not to worry, Rob, I did you proud.

  Although I tried my best to remember all he told me, any mistakes I’ve written about the industry are solely mine. And to Caspian Tattoos in Lynchburg, VA, you’re the best!

  To my critique partner Candice, thanks for keeping my language youthful and for believing in this story as much as I did. You helped me reach the words a writer longs for—THE END.

  Chapter One

  “What do you mean my flight’s been cancelled? What the hell’s going on?”

  I stood at the airline desk behind the angry redhead as she fired questions at the woman in the blue uniform. Evidently, we’d both had our sights glued to the flight schedule board when the status for Flight 3942 from Charlotte, North Carolina, to Philadelphia changed from Delayed to Cancelled. We each muttered a curse and charged for the counter. I motioned for her to go ahead, not because I was in the mood to be gentlemanly, but because I enjoyed watching her.

  “First, the flight was delayed for a freaking hour!”

  Her red springy curls danced as she expressed her displeasure. I leaned in and inhaled a whiff of her fragrance—peaches and magnolias. Intoxicating. Feminine. Sexy as fuck.

  She must have felt or sensed my closeness for she scowled over her shoulder. “Do you mind? You’re in my space.” She pointed at my chest. “Back up!”

  I nodded, but stood my ground. Her sassiness humored me.

  Her annoyance quickly boomeranged to the airline employee. “Then, for some ungodly reason, the boarding gate was changed from one concourse to here. Which meant I had to run like a mad woman to reach this gate.”

  While I’d watched her delightful derriere in those brown and tan leopard-print leggings, the spots bopping and bouncing. Hell, I never knew it was possible to run while drooling over a woman’s firm ass. Too bad she wasn’t my type. I preferred my women more polished. Softer. Submissive. Still, she’d snagged my attention earlier as she stared at her cellphone, texting and reading replies.

  Many of the texts she’d received made her smile, which fascinated me. My world ran on acquisitions, mergers, and waiting for my business opponent to blink first across the board table, because damned if I would. All that seriousness made me a sucker for a smile that marginally contained laughter, which hers did. The wide spread of her plump lips covered by two fingertips frosted in deep purple created the urge to brush them aside and kiss her thoroughly.

  My unusual reaction forced me to take a closer look at the feminine rainbow. Her bright red hair was a contrast to porcelain skin where deep green eyes added a punch of color that held a man’s attention and fascination. The bright orange tank top she wore exposed firm rounded breasts while it advertised PoiZen Pen Tattoos. Inked floral and ribbon chains circled delicate ankles and both wrists. She wore a silver toe ring with a large ruby stone. She was a woman who liked color.

  The airline employee interrupted Red’s diatribe and my assessment of the voluptuous kaleidoscope in front of me. “I have nothing to do with flight cancellations. You’ll have to go to the customer service desk and have someone there reschedule another flight for you.” She motioned to the rest of the passengers on our flight, who now gathered behind us. “You all need to go to customer service.” They ambled off, grumbling and shaking their heads.

  A purple-nailed manicured hand slapped her ticket on the counter. “I have to get back to Philly by seven in the morning so I can be ready for work. Or do you want to call Dr. Pinch Face and explain to him why his dental hygienist of a mere month won’t be in? This airline can’t put my new job in jeopardy like this!” She—Jazmin Archer according to the name on her ticket—was damn near frantic.

  “Look, I could care less about your job. I’m only going to tell you one more time, go to customer service.” The employee waved the back of her hand as if she were dispatching an annoying fly. “I have flights to announce and passengers to board.”

  I placed my hand at the small of Jazmin’s back, whether I was in her damn space or not, and leaned toward the rude employee. “If you don’t care about this nice young lady’s job, perhaps you care about yours. I’d be more than happy to report your rude attitude to your supervisor and the airline. We’re both on the flight that was cancelled. Now focus your overblown ego onto the computer to find us other flights home tonight. How about you provide us with some damn customer service right here?”

  She huffed an annoyed sigh and tilted her head back to read through her progressives. Her fingers clacked some computer keys. Lord, the woman would never work for me. I’d fire her ass before she and her put-upon-attitude made it to lunchtime at O’Hearn International. I expected my employees to work nearly as hard as I did. A tall order since I’d transformed the small shipping company I’d inherited from Uncle Theo into an emergent global shipping conglomerate.

  My “OH” logo was recognized in ports worldwide. Yes, I was a proud man. I was also smart enough to hire only the brightest and best which would eliminate this airline employee from having a chance of working for me. God save me from lazy people.

  In less than a minute, the employee shrugged. “I see nothing
that would help you. Move on.”

  “Try harder. This young lady’s job is on the line.”

  The woman in the blue uniform had the nerve to challenge me. Her chin rose and her eyes narrowed. Had she loaded her quota of polite customer service onto a previous flight and sent it to another location?

  “Now!” I barked.

  “Go easy on her. There’s no need to yell like that,” Jazmin whispered.

  “Seriously?” What the hell had I done wrong, given the situation?

  Narrowed green eyes blazed at me before she lowered her gaze. She shifted half a step backward. Well, I’ll be damned—a sub. A sexy, colorful, spunky submissive.

  The badge pinned to the snooty woman’s blue outfit proclaimed her as Wilma. She took Jazmin’s ticket. I handed Wilma mine so she could search for available flights. I’d heard airline employees were heavily stressed over the summer rush of travel, but hadn’t expected this level of discourtesy. This was beyond pitiful and, hell, it was only June.

  “There’s a flight to Chicago in two hours with a layover. Then you can fly from there to Philadelphia, arriving at ten-twenty in the morning.”

  I glanced at Red in question.

  “I have to be at the office by eight. Before that, I’ll need to go home, shower, and change into scrubs.” She cast worried eyes on mine. “I’ll lose my job. I had to leave work early on Friday to make my flight to Kentucky. The dentist I work for was not happy about giving me two hours off. If I come back late, he’ll freak.”

  “Keep checking,” I ordered Wilma.

  “Ah…oh…there’s a flight leaving in fifteen minutes for Atlanta where you can catch a flight arriving in Philadelphia at five-forty.”

  “Any first-class seats?” I wasn’t folding myself into a cramped regular passenger seat.

  “Two,” the airline employee replied.

  “We’ll take them. What gate?”

  Jazmin elbowed me. “Hold on, mister. I can’t afford the cost of upgrading to a first-class ticket. I’ll take a regular seat. That’s what I’ve already paid for.”

  “Nonsense. I’d welcome the company. My treat. I only fly first-class.”

  She narrowed those emerald eyes again. “No man in his right mind treats a stranger to a first-class ticket. Not unless he expects a different kind of payment, which you’re not getting.”

  “Relax, Red, you’re not my type.” I ignored her annoyed huff and leaned toward Wilma. “What gate?”

  The woman actually smiled, which struck me as odd. “Gate E-fifty-four. Hurry, you’ve only got fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, I’ll put you in the system.” She entered some data and returned our tickets.

  “Looks like we’ll have to make another mad dash. Are you ready?” Jazmin nodded. I grabbed my new traveling companion’s hand and we took off running. Our gate was in a different concourse and we had less than fifteen minutes to get there. I hoped she could keep up.

  ****

  “That woman lied to us! There is no Gate E-fifty-four! Fuck! She did say ‘Gate E-fifty-four,’ right?”

  He directed his fierce expression at me and I could barely speak. Hell, after being dragged on a flat-out dash with a man who appeared six feet six or more, I could hardly breathe. I nodded before bending to press my palms to my quivering thighs and sucking air.

  Had my plane left on time, I’d be in Philly by now, riding with Aunt Gemma to my little apartment above Vicki’s Vanity. Instead, I was breathless, pissed off, and stuck with a Dom. I thought once I’d broken things off with my former boyfriend and walked away from playing in the BDSM lifestyle, I’d never have to face another dominant man again. Yet, here one hovered nearby like a sexual helicopter with spinning rotor blades grinding off a fuck…fuck…fuck sound. I squeezed my thighs together and my clit pulsed. Just my damn luck.

  I’d noticed him as soon as he swaggered into the seating area for our flight’s original gate. He carried his powerful aura as easily as he did his Starbuck’s Grande cup of coffee. Wavy hair with the patina of raven’s wings brushed the collar of his white polo shirt stretched tight over broad shoulders, defined pecs, and biceps. He had the slim muscular build of a swimmer.

  What also drew my eye was the Greubel Forsey watch he wore. I’d read an ad about the new black style, featuring a globe, in a Forbes magazine in my dentist’s office. What made them memorable was that they cost more than a freaking Ferrari. Only the glossy page referred to them as “idiosyncratic timepieces.” I scoffed. Hell, it was still a watch with a black band to match his black shorts. He was a study in black and white. The man probably had a closet full of tailored suits—all black. To say nothing of a stack of laundered white shirts and a rack of sedate ties.

  Black sneakers came into view and he wrapped a hand around my bent elbow. “Do you need to sit for a few minutes? I know I dragged you pretty hard to reach this nonexistent gate. Need some water?” He escorted me to an empty plastic seat, all caring and concern in a voice suddenly gone deep and sexy. I hated to admit it since I’d pretty much sworn off men but, God, he was gorgeous.

  “Water? Yeah.” I managed to force through a mouth devoid of moisture. I reached in my purse for my wallet.

  His hand with polished blunt fingernails covered mine and I ignored my body’s reaction to his touch. “Allow me. Stay here.” He jogged off, still full of energy. I wilted on the chair and, although I tried not to, I watched his tight ass in those frigging black shorts. The man needed some color in his wardrobe.

  Meanwhile, I needed a shower. I was sweaty from all the running. My hair was probably frizzed skyward like Marge on the Simpsons. And my muscles cried for a bed. My bank account, however, screamed for a flight in time to make it to work tomorrow. This rushed weekend trip to be maid-of-honor at Olivia’s wedding was not ending well. Still, I wouldn’t have missed the chance to be there for my longtime bestie. We’d been tight since the third grade and I was thrilled to see her happy. God, she’d been a beautiful June bride.

  My trip home to Lexington, Kentucky, was bittersweet. I hadn’t been back since Momma’s funeral two years ago. Meanwhile, I’d honored her dying wish and finished my bachelor’s degree as a dental hygienist. My day job paid the bills. My evening gig as a tattoo artist fed the artistic side of my soul. My cousin Zen didn’t mind my taking time off from PoiZen Pen Tattoos to go home. Dr. Sadler, who I shamelessly called Dr. Pinch Face in private, did.

  “Here you go. Ice water and a brownie.” Tanned hands extended the items. That’s when I noticed the thumb ring. I wanted to laugh. I’d never seen a man wearing one before. Of course this dude’s ring was black, onyx no doubt, and rimmed on both sides with pewter. If he told me his name was Blackie White, I was going to lose it.

  I gladly took the water and brownie. “Thank you.”

  He smiled in response. Straight white teeth, black stubble, and dark broad eyebrows. Eyes the color of an impending storm. The man was all monotones. Even the tribal tattoos decorating the sides of his legs were pure black. Although if I’d done the job, the edges would be sharper, the design bolder like the man wearing them. A tattoo should reflect the person showcasing the art. His didn’t.

  He folded into the seat next to me, the warmth of him compounding my own body heat. His thigh rested against mine as if we were anything but total strangers. “I can’t get over the audacity of that pretentious woman to flat out lie to us.” He unscrewed the lid to his water and tipped it back.

  I tried not to stare at the muscles in his throat working to swallow as his Adam’s apple bobbed. I glanced the other way and downed some cool water myself. The man was totally hot and I was so totally not paying attention. Besides, he annoyed me one moment and got me all hot and bothered the next.

  “You know, I should have suspected something was up when Wilma smiled. I mean, I thought it was out of character, but I hoped it was because she’d solved our problem. The bitch,” he growled before chugging more water.

  At the time I’d felt he’d been too harsh with Wilma. It w
as obvious she was doing her best with zero help. He hadn’t cut her any slack.

  “I asked where customer service was located for our airline when I made this purchase. I can’t wait to unload on somebody. This is pure bullshit.” In typical Dominant manner, he unwrapped my brownie.

  I took a bite before he decided to feed me. My last meal was six hours ago, so I nearly inhaled the chocolate treat.

  “Do you eat everything with such gusto?” His voice had lowered and my sex-starved girly parts responded. God, it had been so long.

  “How did you miss this crumb?” His fingertip brushed over a stray piece of pastry at the corner of my mouth and he brought it to the center of my lips. “Open.”

  On reflex, I obeyed. My tongue curled around his finger to make sure I got all the chocolate, or so I told myself. My gaze rose to lock on his. He knew what I was doing and so did I. His dark gray eyes narrowed and he leaned closer. I couldn’t help but inhale his expensive cologne and the maleness he exuded.

  “I bet you’re a troublesome brat for your Master.”

  I opened my mouth and his finger slowly slid over my lower lip. My nipples pebbled. “I don’t have a Master, nor do I want or need one.”

  He adjusted himself before he stood. “Oh, you need one all right. A brat like you requires a strict Dom and a good spanking. My name’s Blake, by the way.”

  I stood and reached for my carryon. “I’m Jazmin, or Jazz, and you’ve got it all wrong. I’m nobody’s sub. Thanks again for the brownie. I was really hungry.”

  He brushed his knuckles down my cheek and smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Come on. We need to raise hell so we can get out of this place and on our way home. Someone will pay dearly for this airline’s incompetence.”

  My annoyance with this man doubled. Blake was arrogant, bossy, and too bold for my taste. We were strangers and he had no right to touch my face. I glanced away. I supposed I had no business sucking on his finger either. Surely that was different. Right?

  Chapter Two

  When Jazmin halted, I pressed my hand to the small of her back. The line zigzagging at the customer service desk was damn near as long as one of my ships. “We should have expected this. Too bad I don’t have any influence over airlines. I’ve been thinking of buying a private jet. This experience just nailed my decision.”