A Dominant Fallen (A Dominant Series Book 2)

by Black, Lena

  “Don’t get any ideas. We’re not ready to talk about that. We aren’t even engaged yet.”

  His face lights up and a huge grin broaden his lips.

  “Does this mean if I ask, you’ll say, yes?”

  “I guess you’ll just have to ask and see.” I smirk up at him, quite pleased with myself.

  It is late afternoon when Hunt and I arrive back from a hike through a nearby redwood forest. We had lunch near a quiet river, talked, laughed, and made love. It took my mind off things and gave us a chance to simply enjoy each other’s company. It was a perfect day.

  When we enter the kitchen, we find Beverly running about like a chicken with her head cut off. There are pots occupying every burner on the stove and the oven is working overtime. She finally catches herself for a moment and spots us at the door, wiping sauce from her cheek but only smearing more on. Her long brown hair, thrown up in a sloppy bun, held together by long thin paintbrushes.

  “Hey, kid…s. How was your nature walk?”

  “It was a lot of fun. I’ve really built up an appetite,” I answer, rubbing my tummy. “It smells amazing.”

  “Thanks, Ellie. It should be ready soon. I’ll be serving dinner in the garden tonight. Why don’t you two go rest and whatnot while I finish up here.”

  “That’s just what we’ll do,” Hunt agrees, leading me out of the kitchen and then upstairs to our room to ready for dinner.

  I put the finishing touches on my hair, pinning it into a French twist, then straighten out the full skirt of my white cotton dress. It’s perfect for a dinner in this garden I keep hearing about.

  I walk out of the bathroom and find Hunt shrugging on his white button-up and adjusting the collar. I toddle over to him and start buttoning up his shirt.

  “This is a change,” he comments, glancing down at me with a pantie-dropping smirk, and my heart actually skips a beat.

  “I know. I like it.” I grin up at him and kiss him on the chin when the last button is clasped, leaving the top two open. I play with the light sprinkling of hair on his chest, and he cups my face in his hands, tilting it up to his.

  “You are so fucking beautiful, I can’t even comprehend it. You are my world, Gabrielle Hyde.”

  “And you are mine, Damian Hunt.”

  He leans in and takes my lips gently onto his, holding me tenderly against him. I slide my arms about his neck and cradle him closer, moaning against his lips as he shows me what I mean to him through our oral dance.

  “Come,” he murmurs through our lips, “dinner should be waiting for us.”

  He breaks away from me and clasps onto my hand, guiding me over toward the staircase.

  “Wait, I don’t have any shoes on.”

  “Neither do I,” he replies, never faltering his barefooted stride. We head back down to the kitchen, out the backdoor, and step into a wonderland.

  The garden is beyond anything I was expecting. It’s crammed with the usual vibrant flowers, shrubs, etc., but this place has a touch of magic. There’s a pond with a small waterfall and brilliant lights and lanterns strung across the enchanting garden. There are three large oak trees toward the back of the property with glowing chandeliers, antique birdcages, and a plethora of multicolored jars hanging from them. Under these massive, illuminated giants is a table with a white linen tablecloth and mismatched chairs. It’s quirky and charming, just like Bee.

  “Hunt, this is spectacular. Your aunt is truly an artist.”

  “Yes, very true. She actually taught me everything I know about photography, the guitar, and cooking.”

  “You play the guitar…? I guess you learn something new every day.”

  He places his hand on the small of my back and slowly guides us along the cobblestone path toward the table. “Do you play anything?”

  “I played the piano and a little violin. My mother felt that playing instruments made a well-rounded individual. However, she raised me to find a man and settle down the way she had. But, my father…” I trail off and Hunt pauses, turning to me with inquisitive eyes.

  “What about your father, Gabrielle? Please, tell me, angel,” he softly pleads.

  “He…He raised me to stand on my own. He told me that I should rely on myself in this world and never let a man determine who I am or choose to become.”

  I notice the glimmer of a tear welling in his eye. “He was a very wise man. I can only hope to be the kind of man, father, husband that he was.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this,” I utter, tilting my head down to the ground, but he lifts it back up with a strong finger under my chin.

  “I know, Elle, and we won’t. But, I will say this. He loved you and only wanted the best for you.”

  “Which he didn’t feel you were,” I snap out, my face turning red. “It shows how much he knew.”

  “Actually, that’s not entirely true.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, shortly before his passing, he came to me. We sat and spoke for quite a while…He told me about you, and how you had been since you left me. He said you weren’t doing well, and then he asked something of me that means more now that he’s gone…Perhaps he knew he didn’t have much longer. I don’t know.”

  “What, Damian? What did he ask of you?”

  “He asked me to watch out for you and protect you. He said he wouldn’t be around forever and he needed someone he could rely on to ensure you were taken care of, happy. He said he knew that I would allow you to be who you are but also help you grow as a person…Elle, he gave me his blessing.”

  “He did?” Now tears swell in my eyes, but I push it back down, deep, where I keep my pain.

  “Yes, and, frankly, it means a great deal to me that he did. He was a good friend.”

  “I was surprised you didn’t show up as his funeral. I was sure you would.”

  “I was,” he utters.

  My eyes spring open. “You were there? Where?” I ask, stunned by this revelation.

  “I was up in the balcony, watching you. I had to pay my respects to your father without disrespecting you. I thought it was best if I kept my distance.”

  “I wanted you there beside me,” I state. “I searched the crowd for you. I wish I’d known you were there.”

  “You have no idea how much I wanted to be by your side, angel, comforting you. It killed me,” he confesses with pained eyes. I can’t stand seeing him this way. He must notice the torn look on my face, so he changes the subject. “Come, let’s eat. I’m fucking starved, and whatever she cooked is wafting over here.”

  He snatches my hand and leads us the rest of the way. Catlin is sitting at the table in a soft pink dress, bare feet dangling under her chair. When she spots us, she smiles broad and runs over to Hunt at lightning speed.

  “Damian, catch me!” She leaps up and he grasps her in his arms, placing his cheek on top of her little head as it rests on his large shoulder.

  “Hello, bug,” he whispers.

  We had seafood Jambalaya with a local red wine. It was delicious. Bev sends Catlin off to bed, and we sit and chat a bit. I find out that Catlin’s father died in a car accident when she was two. This house belonged to his family, and when he passed, she turned it into a B&B to support Catlin and herself. She loves it, and Caty always has children to play with.

  “It’s perfect for us,” she says, taking a sip of wine and scanning her garden.

  “It’s a little piece of heaven,” I comment.

  “Now you see why I come here to escape,” Hunt states, grinning a lighthearted grin.

  “Yes, I do. I love it here.”

  “You’re welcome back anytime you like,” she offers. “I’ll always have a room for you.”

  “Thank you. I may just have to take you up on that.”

  Suddenly, as if the universe could sense our joy, Hunt’s cell goes off, halting the conversation in its tracks. We all stare at him take his phone out of his tan slack’s pocket, watching with anticipation as every call could be th
e one that changes everything.

  He looks at the caller ID and gives me a quick glance.

  “Go,” I answer his unasked question. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

  He nods his head and picks up the call, getting up and walking away. “Hunt. What do you have for me…? Shoot it to me straight.”

  “So,” Bev breathes out, resting back into her chair. “How long have you known each other?”

  “Well, that’s kinda complicated.”

  She cocks her head to the side. “Why?”

  “Well, we met earlier this year, but we’ve been apart for a majority of that time.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, you two behave as if you’ve known each other for a lifetime. It isn’t the amount of time you spend together, but how you use it.” I can tell she is referring to her husband.

  “So, how long have you known Damian?”

  “His whole life. I used to babysit him whenever his parents would go out. Our families were very close…You want to know what he was like.”

  “Yes,” I murmur, surprised by her intuitiveness.

  “He was a very gentle child, wiser than his years. When his parents passed, he changed drastically, became introverted. I suppose the terrifying things he went through would change anyone.”

  “Do you know what happened with his uncle?”

  “Only what Vivi told me, but she didn’t know specifics. She just knows that abuse occurred. Damian is the only one who truly knows what happened.”

  “I figured you would say that.”

  “He’s always kept things to himself. I think it’s a survival tactic. He had to close up in order to keep his sanity. I think he pushes it deep down and locks it away somewhere…I don’t really know. But, I can see him fighting himself. He’s struggling to break free. Perhaps, if you ask, he will be willing to tell you.”

  “Perhaps,” I utter, but there’s doubt in my voice.

  “If he’s going to open up to anyone, it will be you…His life has vastly improved recently, and it’s all because of you, Ellie. Haven’t you noticed the change in him?”

  “Yes, I have. He’s already told me so much, but he is keeping something from me…I mean, beyond the secrets of his past.”

  “Yes, but Damian is a fairly rational person, so if he isn’t telling you something, it’s for a good reason.”

  I hadn’t thought of it that way. I just assumed it was because he is a hermit crab when it comes to his thoughts and past. However, he must have his reasons for keeping me in the dark.

  “True. He can be pretty reasonable.”

  “I know you want in, hun, but if you think about it, he’s known his family his whole life and he has already revealed more to you than anyone of us.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, smiling softly at her. That actually makes me feel better. I lean back into my chair and listen to the sound of crickets mingling with the music.

  Once Hunt returns and Beverly bids us a goodnight, we relax with our wine, our chairs pushed together. My head lies on his shoulder while we listen to Frank Sinatra croon. The song changes and the mellow sound of a sax plays a sultry tune, accompanying Dinah Washington’s soulful voice.

  “Would you care to dance?” Hunt asks with a gentle tone.

  “Yes, I would love to.” He stands and takes my hand, walking us over to a grassy lawn nearby. He takes me into his arms and holds me close, swaying us in place. His hand slides down my back and over my rear, grasping it in his palm. His other arm remains about my upper back, keeping me in place.

  I feel the tickle of the grass under my feet as I shift my weight from one to the next. Hunt’s warm, hard body feels so good against mine, so right. He smells of sex, soap, and nature, which still lingers from our romp through the forest. Absolutely divine.

  “I had planned on staying here another day, but we have to head back into the city tomorrow.”

  “Does this have to do with the phone call?”

  “Yes,” he replies softly.

  “But, you won’t tell me what it’s about.”

  “No.”

  “Well, then I will just have to trust that you know what’s best. But, will you ever tell me what’s going on?”

  “Yes. When I feel it’s the right time, I will tell you everything.” I roll my eyes and sigh as I lay my head on his chest. “Thank you for not fighting me.”

  “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

  “No, I suppose not. I just don’t see any point in you worrying over nothing.”

  “I know, but I just want to help.”

  “I know you do,” he whispers, lifting my face to his, “because you’re a good girl…I’m so in love with you, Gabrielle.” He gently kisses my lips and places my head back on his chest. “I want to stay like this forever.”

  “I don’t know about that. My feet would kill me.”

  I feel him smirk down at me. “No, not dancing…Happy.”

  “Are you happy, Hunt?”

  “Yes, I am, terribly so. Are you, Hyde?”

  “Yes, I am, completely.”

  He plants his hand on the side of my face and holds it against his chest so I feel his heartbeat. “That’s all I could ever ask for.”

  We dance long into the night, holding each other closely.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Breaking Without Entering

  We make it back into San Fran by noon the next day. When we arrive back at The Artemis, Maya and Chase are gone, but Banks is waiting for Hunt in the main room with a thick manila folder in his hand and a dour look on his face.

  “This arrived this morning,” he says, handing the massive file over. “It should have everything you need.”

  “Thank you, Banks. I’ll look it over and get back to you.”

  “Very good, sir. I will wait for further instructions.”

  “Excellent work.”

  “Thank you, sir.” He nods his head at Hunt then turns it on me. “I hope you enjoyed your trip, Gabrielle.”

  “Yes, thank you, Liam,” I reply, smiling up at him.

  “That will be all, Banks.” Hunt gives him a reprimanding look. “Thank you.”

  “Yes, sir,” he says, tips his head and takes his leave.

  I turn to Hunt with an annoyed look on my face. “That wasn’t very nice. He was only trying to be courteous.”

  “I’m still not comfortable with you two being on a first name basis.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Hunt, and you know it.”

  “I’m going to take our bags upstairs then I have to get ready.”

  “For what?”

  “There are matters that need my attention…I’ll be back later this afternoon. Banks will be downstairs if you need him.”

  He kisses me on the head before snatching our bags and heading upstairs to ready. I follow not far behind. We make a stop at his study to put the folder away, and he locks the door when we leave. I find this odd. He closes the door, sure, but never locks it.

  We make it to the room and head into the closet where he sets down the luggage then goes into the bathroom for a quick shower. I undress and slip into my white silk robe, tying it up as I head back into the bedroom. I walk past the bathroom door and spot him rinsing down his hard, tan body. Wow. Mine.

  He steps out and dries off, paying extra nice attention to his package. He glances up at me leaning on the doorframe and smirks when he spots me ogling him. He tosses the towel on the hook and strides out of the bathroom, back into the bedroom. I follow him and, suddenly, I notice something I hadn’t when we first entered, new black and whites adorn the wall, replacing the ones he’d taken down. They’re of me, of us, from my photo shoot.

  There’s a massive portrait of me on the bed kneeling and blindfolded, with my restrained hands resting in my lap. A collage of smaller photos decorate the wall about it, each of me in different submissive poses or close-ups of various body parts, the crook of my neck, the curve of my hip, the mound of my bare rear.

  But, there i
s one that catches my eye and keeps it. I’m in silhouette against the glass wall as light streams in from the city, my legs spread and my arms reaching high above me so I look like a large X. I’m ‘gazing’ over my shoulder at the camera, at Hunt with the silky blindfold over my eyes, finding him in my sightless state, as if guided by a sixth sense. It was the moment just before he took me wildly against the cool glass of the window.

  “Damian,” I whisper in awe, catching his attention.

  “Do you like them?” he asks with a shake in his voice, as every artist seems to have when their work is up for judgment.

  I spin around to him standing next to the bed and shoot him a huge grin. “Oh, Damian, you know I think they’re wonderful, truly exceptional. You have a gift, slick…Well, besides your gift of fuck.”

  He laughs hard and walks over to me. “I’m so glad you like them, angel.”

  “I do. They’ll be nice to have when we’re old and gray.”

  “That’s a lovely thought.”

  “Will you still love me when my breasts droop to my socks?”

  He chuckles. “Yes, you know I will. Will you still love me when my balls hang to my knees?”

  I giggle hard, snorting. “Yes, I will.”

  He pulls me into him, and we smirk admiringly at one another. He leans in and plants a kiss on my temple. “I wish we could stay like this, but I really do need to leave soon. I better get ready.”

  I let out a disappointed sigh, kiss him on the chest, and then release him, taking a step back. “I’ll let you get to it.”

  “Thank you, angel,” he says, turning and walking into the closet, allowing me an opportunity to get another good look at that bangin’ body and firm ass.

  Fuck me.

  He comes back out a few moments later, dressed in black slacks, a dark blue dress shirt, and no tie. It seems a bit casual for business.

  “What are these matters that need attending? Do they have to do with the folder?”