by Virna DePaul
He frowned. “Somebody has to do it. And I can handle it better than most.”
Could he? she wondered for the first time. Or did he just think he had to for some reason? “Don’t you want more than that?”
She knew they were both thinking of Jordan at that moment.
“Wanting more doesn’t enter the equation. I do what has to be done. And right now, Mattie, I need you to answer some questions for me.”
“How about you answer a question for me first?”
Surprise flickered across his face, but he nodded.
“Would you have stayed with me, if you’d known about Jordan?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Would you have been a cop?”
This answer came more slowly. “Probably not.”
“Would you have resented me?”
He didn’t answer for several minutes. Finally, he sighed and raked both hands through his hair. “I’d like to think not, but can I say for sure? No. Being a cop is who I am. Sometimes it feels like it’s all I am. But no matter what, I’d have taken care of you, if you’d have let me. I know that much.”
She swallowed hard, his answer sinking into her bones. She believed him. In fact, she’d never really doubted otherwise. Had it been wrong for her to deprive Jordan of her father because she’d selfishly wanted Dom to stay with her because of love and not obligation?
Walking to one of the living room bookcases, she pretended to straighten a picture frame. She stared at the picture of John and Jordan dressed as the Scarecrow and Dorothy for their last Halloween together. There was joy on their faces, but it had all been an illusion in the end. Ultimately, she and Jordan only had each other. Not even Tony was a sure thing.
Feeling utterly alone in that moment, she turned back to Dom, who was now staring at the floor, looking even more alone than she felt. His defeated posture reminded her that while she’d deprived Jordan of a father, she’d also deprived him of a daughter. Someone to give him hope when things were at their lowest.
“Why do people think Joel killed himself?” she asked.
His head jerked up. A slight flush colored his cheekbones, his calm façade cracking slightly. “Because that’s what the evidence suggests. Even Tawny, his wife… I saw the doubt in her eyes at the funeral. After Joel gave up everything for her, how could she—” His voice faltered and he glanced around the room, almost if he was looking for a way to escape. A place to hide before he let her get another rare glimpse of the man inside the cop.
She walked closer to him, refusing to let him hide. “Sometimes it’s hard for people to have that much faith in someone else. And fleeting doubt isn’t the same as betrayal.” She said it pointedly, taking his face in her hands when he wouldn’t look at her. “It’s not, Dominic.”
He tried to pull away, but she followed him, taking his hands.
“I’m not saying I—” he began.
“I know. But just in case, you need to remember what you do for a living. You are a cop. Like you said, your job is to cover every base. I understand now. I understand why you have to ask questions about Tony. Even me. And if you’ve had to ask questions about Joel, that’s okay, too. That’s how you survive. It’s how you do your job.”
He twisted his hands until he softly gripped her wrists, rubbing his thumbs against her pulse points, making her skin heat from the outside in. “He was my best friend—”
“And you loved him. You miss him.”
Not thinking of anything but wanting to comfort him, she rose on tiptoe and hugged him.
Dom didn’t return Mattie’s embrace.
Thoughts of Joel and Judge Butler and Mattie and Jordan were swirling in his head with enough force to make him dizzy. She clearly wanted him to release his tight grip on his emotions, and though it was slipping, he desperately held on to what was left. Being a cop meant having to suppress any emotion that would get in the way of the job. It meant having to view the evidence objectively and, just as she’d said, consider things you didn’t want to, even about people you loved.
Although he’d initially denied it, part of him had eventually questioned whether Joel had killed himself. As a cop, he’d had to, but the guilt still weighed heavily on him. She’d obviously seen that somehow.
Despite his stiffness, she didn’t back away. She simply held him and he let her. After several minutes, he realized the pain in his gut was gone. He could breathe a little easier. It was there—that same sense of “rightness,” of ease, that his body always felt when he was with Mattie.
It telegraphed loud and clear how much he needed her.
His heart pumped hard, shoving blood into his extremities. Making his fingers tingle. Making his skin heat.
Making him realize how lost he’d been without her and how lost he’d be if he let her walk away from him again. This time, with his daughter.
Instinctively, he rejected the very idea of letting his daughter go. But he’d been afraid of disappointing Mattie if he stayed with her. How much more would he disappoint a little girl?
Back away. Back away now.
But even as he braced himself to step back from Mattie, his body had other ideas.
He wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in the curve between her neck and shoulder. Mattie stiffened at first, then slowly relaxed against him. He shuddered as her warmth and fragrance wrapped around him, gentle and comforting.
She raised her hands to his shoulders, then to his skull, petting him in slow, easy circles. “It’s okay,” she murmured. Her hands caressed his face and he pulled back to look at her. She kissed his forehead, offering him solace in a way he’d never experienced before.
In a way he might never again.
He kissed her, a light touch of his lips on hers, gone almost before it started. Then he did it again, gracing her jawline with one kiss after another. She shivered when he kissed the soft skin behind her ear.
“Dominic?”
“Shhh,” he said. “Not yet. Just let me—” He took her mouth again, this time with a fierce, almost desperate melding of lips and teeth and tongue. They’d been together only a few months before their split, and their reunion had covered mere days, but it felt like he’d wanted her forever. He’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted Mattie.
He tilted his head and took her from a different angle, deepening the kiss. His hands snaked under her shirt, making her jerk when his cool skin pressed against her warmth. She moaned and pulled him closer, her hands ripping at the buttons of his shirt, encouraging him to take more.
Forcing himself to leave her mouth just long enough to pull her shirt over her head, he immediately latched back on only to pull down her pants and underwear. She kicked them out of the way and undid his jeans, inserting a hand and cupping him until he gritted his teeth at the pleasure. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her hand away, lifted her up until her legs wound around his waist, and speed walked into the bedroom.
Once there, he laid her on the bed and took in her splayed thighs and the treasure between them. Slowly, softly, he touched her. She was wet, so wet, and he instantly froze, eyes closed, trying to absorb every hint of sensation. Her head fell back, as did his own.
Their breathing synchronized, ragged and deep. He buried his face in her neck and parted her with his fingers, trying to reach into the very heart of her.
“Dominic,” she moaned, her voice rising just as she started to contract around his fingers, milking him with a firm, rhythmic squeeze of velvet and silk.
“So good,” he gasped. “You feel so good.” He pulled himself up to look at her, but her eyes were closed. “Look at me,” he grated, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. Gravelly. Primitive. All pretenses shattered.
She did, but her eyes were dazed. “Let me touch you,” she whispered, trying to pull away from him.
He shook his head. “Bend your knees,” he encouraged. “Open yourself to me. All of you.”
She hesitated then complied, bending her knees
, exposing herself, putting herself in his care. Gently, he pulled her toward him at the same time he scooped each leg onto one arm, and pressed her out and open until she was completely exposed to him. He gripped her wrists again and poised himself at her entrance.
“This is what I want. I want you to look into my eyes and know how desperate I am for you. That there’s nothing you can do, nothing you can say, that would stop me from wanting this.” He teasingly slipped just the tip of himself into her, shaking at the effort of holding back. “Tell me you want me.”
She struggled against his grip, trying to envelop more of him inside her.
“Tell me you want me. Tell me I’m all you’ve ever wanted. Me over you. Me inside you. Even if it’s just for the moment.”
“You know I—”
“Tell me, Mattie. Please.”
She froze and stared into his eyes. He let her see it all. His yearning. His desperation.
Her breath caught and she nodded. “I want you. Over me. Inside of me. You’re—” She swallowed hard and her eyes filled with tears. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
She hadn’t even finished the sentence before he was inside her. He let go of her wrists, wrapped himself around her, and thrust deep. He gritted his teeth at the way her short nails bit through the fabric of his shirt. Within minutes, she came, but he still didn’t let himself go. He pulled back and tilted her chin up so he could look into her beautiful eyes.
“I want you to remember this moment. Remember how much you want me. How much you need this.”
She nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him.
He groaned as he felt himself getting close. “Promise me,” he gasped out. “Promise me you won’t for—” Suddenly, he couldn’t speak. The tremors overtook him, dragging a hoarse, animalistic shout from the depths of his soul. “Mattie!”
His body jerked in a series of fading tremors. When it was over, he could barely move. She rubbed his back, caressing him with firm, steady strokes. “I promise,” she whispered. “I promise.”
She said it again. And again. Until all he could do was tighten his arms around her and welcome sleep.
She woke sometime during the night to find him staring at her, trailing his fingers across her body the way he’d done so many times in the past. She stretched languidly, unashamed of her nudity, relishing the way his eyes darkened and his breathing sped up. The air felt heavy, her skin warm. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was dreaming about him again.
She didn’t realize she’d spoken her thoughts until he said, “This is no dream.” He grinned and bent to kiss her, flicking his tongue lightly against her lips until she moaned. Instead of penetrating her deeper, he pulled back. “But if it was,” he teased, “and you could control it, what would you have us do?”
Murmuring in protest, she rose up and tried to capture his mouth, but he pulled just out of reach. “Come on, Mattie. Tell me one of your fantasies. Something you’ve never done, never told anyone, but always wanted to try.”
She stared up at him, feeling as if she was in a daze. Her inhibitions seemed to have melted away and she wondered if someone had injected her with honey. She felt all warm and tingly. Soft. Womanly.
Edible.
Savor-able.
The word echoed in her mind, causing her to speak without thinking. “Handcuffs,” she whispered.
His eyes narrowed just before he buried his face in the crook of her neck. There, he sprinkled several kisses across her skin before biting her with a sharp nip that made her moan. Then, before she knew it, he was gone and pulling on his jeans. She shoved herself up on her elbows. “What—?”
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
He exited the bedroom, and she heard the front door open and close. He was back inside in under a minute. He lifted his hand, showing her the cuffs dangling from his fingers. She immediately snickered and held out her hands. Dom tossed them to her.
He placed a key on the night table, then, with his jeans still on, sat beside her. “Now, where were we?”
She sighed when he took her mouth, this time giving her the deep, wet kiss she was longing for. Then a thought occurred to her and she pulled away. “Wait a minute,” she breathed with a hand to his chest. “Have you ever—?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never used handcuffs with a woman. I swear.”
Well, at least that was something.
He tilted his head as he looked at her. “If you’ve changed your mind about being tied up, we can forget about the cuffs and just get to the good part, you know.” He reached out to take the cuffs from her and she quickly moved away, holding them out of his reach.
She wagged a finger at him. “Uh-uh-uh. Who said anything about me being tied up? You asked me about my fantasy and yes, handcuffs are involved. But in my fantasy, I’m not the one wearing them.”
He leaned back against one of the bedposts. “Is that a fact?”
“That’s right. Does that scare you?”
“Not at all.” Before she could express her skepticism, he lowered his hand to his jeans then paused. With a questioning look, he asked, “I’m assuming you want me naked?”
“Uh. Sure,” she said, unable to tear her gaze from the light dusting of hair that arrowed into his jeans. Unable to believe he was willing to accommodate her without a fight.
“You sure? Because if you had something else in mind…”
“No.” The word came out a little faint, so she cleared her throat and spoke louder. “Naked is good.”
“Great.” Methodically, he stripped off his jeans. When he was finished, he stood in front of her, completely at ease with his nudity. Staring at him, her mouth went dry and her knees trembled.
Despite how wonderful making love with him had been, she hadn’t had the opportunity to simply look at him or to take her time touching him. She wanted to do both. To reacquaint herself with his body. As much as she wanted. For as long as she wanted.
She suddenly understood what he was giving her. Complete and total access. Complete control. And complete accountability. This wasn’t about being swept away by passion, but grabbing it by the throat with full knowledge of who and what Dom was.
“Should I lie down?”
Biting her lip, she nodded, unsure of her ability to speak. He immediately lay down on the bed and stretched his arms above his head. “You need help with the cuffs?”
“I think I can do it.” She stepped beside him, amazed at how unconcerned he appeared. Not unaffected—he was long and hard, spearing out from his belly like a warrior eager for battle—but completely comfortable with putting himself, literally, in her hands. Unable to help herself, she reached out and trailed her fingers over him.
He clenched his fists and hissed, but otherwise didn’t move.
Doubt suddenly swept through her. Once he was tied down, it was all up to her. What if she choked? What if he got so bored he fell asleep? As ridiculous as her thoughts were, they still had her hesitating. “You know, I’m not sure—”
“Here. I’ll show you how they work.” Gently, he took the cuffs from her, slipped his left wrist in one, snapped it closed, and then hooked it on the bedpost. He held out the other cuff. “Now you do the other one.”
Silently, she stared at the cuff. “Okay.” Taking if from him, she slipped it on his right wrist and tightened it. When she moved to connect the chain to the bedpost, however, he said, “Wait.”
She froze.
“Come here.” The command came out hoarse, as if he was having trouble breathing.
She’d lost her ability to breathe a long time ago. “Why?”
“Because before you tie me down, I need to do something.”
She leaned slightly toward him.
“Closer,” he whispered.
She leaned down even farther, until her long hair brushed against his face. He brought his hand toward her and she expected him to cup her breast or the hot spot between her legs. She actually moaned in anticipation. Instead, he tu
cked her hair behind her ear and then rubbed the back of his fingers against her cheek. Startled, she nuzzled into his touch like a cat begging to be petted, but kept her gaze glued to his. He just stared at her for several seconds, a mysterious smile on his lips, and then he dropped his hand. “Okay, I’m ready.”
She blinked. “That was it?”
“Yeah.” The single word was fraught with contentment. As if he could die at that moment with no regrets.
Feeling stronger and more powerful than she ever had, she attached the restraint to the other bedpost. “How’s that?”
He tugged on both wrists, then grinned. “I’m at your mercy. Do your worst.”
“Are you kidding?” she asked. She climbed up the foot of the bed, forcing him to spread his legs in order to make room for her. She prowled toward him on all fours, not stopping until she straddled his waist. He hissed and arched as she brushed against his erection, and she closed her eyes at the feel of him sliding against her backside. With a teasing smile, she planted a hand on either side of his head, bending over him so that her nipples just hovered over his chest. She pressed a light kiss on his shoulder, then rose to stare into his dazed eyes. “I have a job to do and doing my worst isn’t in the plan. Not when I can do my best.”
Dom was dying of pleasure. Sweat covered his body and his skin felt like it was on fire. Her slightest touch caused pleasure to pool in his shaft, making him so hard it actually hurt. He lost track of time and measured its passage by how desperately he urged her to touch him.
First, he asked her to take him in her mouth.
Then, he told her to wrap her fingers around him.
Soon, he was commanding her to finish it.
She ignored him, rubbing her nipples across his chest, trailing kisses up one thigh and down the other, licking his nipples with slow, languid strokes of her tongue and then gently biting them. His hips were in perpetual motion, searching for release even as he marveled at her power over him. He’d even started to beg, but no matter what he said or did, she ignored the part of him that longed most for her attention.