Dominick

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Dominick Page 8

by Eve Langlais


  He eyed the garbage can where he’d dumped the catnip spray. Why had he drunk it? And what happened after? Because he didn’t remember going back to bed.

  However, he did recollect washing his hands—clean of blood.

  14

  Frazzled by the cops’ visit, Anika didn’t argue when Dom insisted that they go to his place to do laundry. If he wanted to be bored out of his mind watching her sort, wash, and fold, then he could have at it.

  She still couldn’t figure out his interest in her.

  Hell, she had a hard time figuring out her feelings about him but couldn’t deny he made her feel amazing. Desired. Protected.

  But at the same time, she wondered about him. She’d not mentioned the fact that she’d woken in the night and he wasn’t in bed.

  Then again, he wasn’t a wild animal, so even if he’d gone out, he couldn’t have been what attacked Thomas. And she didn’t see him as the type to be so elaborate that he’d steal a panther from a zoo and set it free for the attack. Ottawa didn’t even have a zoo, so chances were Thomas had lied.

  “You’re brooding,” Dom remarked, his hand on her thigh as she drove.

  She chewed her lip before blurting out, “I woke last night, and you were gone.”

  “I got thirsty.”

  “Oh.”

  “Anika.” He said her name softly, and she cast him a quick glance. “While I don’t like your ex, I didn’t attack him. I wasn’t kidding when I said he had a lot of enemies.”

  “I believe you. I just wish he’d leave me alone.” She huffed out a tired breath.

  He squeezed her leg. “Don’t lose hope. Maybe this will be the wake-up call he needs to get out of town before his enemies decide to do worse next time.”

  “I should be so lucky,” she grumbled.

  As they reached the house, they noticed a dejected teenage boy sitting on the porch.

  “Tyson, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?” Dominick asked, stepping out of her car. He’d yet to ask to drive, and while she shouldn’t compare, she did with Thomas, who insisted that women sucked behind the wheel.

  “Nana’s taking me to the doctor to run some tests. She wants to see if they can figure out what happened to me the other night.”

  “You got high. Don’t need a physical or blood test to determine that.”

  Tyson shrugged. “She says she wants to make sure I didn’t mess myself up.”

  “Doubtful. If catnip were dangerous, they wouldn’t sell it in stores.”

  Maybe not dangerous, but no doubt Dom had gotten frisky after smelling some last night.

  “She thinks it was laced with something,” Tyson offered.

  To which Dom replied, “Probably was, which is yet another reason your dumb ass shouldn’t have smoked it. I still don’t know what you were thinking, rolling a joint with some unknown substance. What if it was poison? You could have died.”

  “I know.” A soft murmur as Tyson hung his head.

  Mrs. Hubbard emerged, saying, “Are you ready to go?” Then, on a startled note, added, “Well, hello there again, Anika. So nice to see you.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Hubbard.”

  “Please, call me Nana.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, even as it went against everything she’d been taught growing up. One did not call older adults by their first names.

  “Oh, and before I forget, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Nana asked.

  “Eating with us,” Dom answered for her.

  “I am?”

  “Unless you have plans?” Nana queried.

  She shook her head.

  “Excellent. Bring an appetite, because I’m making a turducken this year, along with a ham and a beef roast.”

  “And tourtière!” Dom said, aiming for the trunk of Anika’s car and pulling out her basket of dirty clothes.

  “I swear you’re obsessed with my meat pie.” Said with fond exasperation.

  “’Cause it’s the best thing ever.” Carrying her laundry, Dom passed his mom on the stairs. “I told Annie she could do her laundry here instead of at a laundromat.”

  “Dom insisted. I can take it into town,” Anika hastily added.

  “Don’t be foolish. You shouldn’t be washing your unmentionables with strangers.”

  “Thanks. I brought my own detergent,” she said.

  Mrs. Hubbard snorted. “You are way too polite. Dominick could learn a lesson or two from you.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom. She’s been teaching me all kinds of stuff.” He winked at Anika, and she blushed.

  His mom beamed. “You’re staying for lunch?”

  “I shouldn’t. I’ve got to be at work for one.”

  “Well then, don’t be shy in the kitchen. I’ve got some goodies you can nibble on. Dom, make sure she’s fed before she goes.”

  “How long you going to be gone?” Dom asked as he held open the door, waiting for Anika.

  “At least an hour. Depends on how many tests they run.”

  As Tyson followed his mom to the sky-blue minivan, he glanced over his shoulder and mouthed, Save me.

  Dom smirked and then shouted, “You should tell them to check his prostate.”

  Tyson’s eyes widened. Chuckling, Dom led the way into the house.

  A little less frazzled this visit, she looked around a bit more than the previous time. Noticed the freshly painted walls and the vintage wooden floors with their light gleam. Pictures adorned the hallway wall, bearing different frames and the images of kids—Dom and his family growing up.

  She paused in front of one with a gap-toothed boy with his foot resting on a soccer ball. “Is that you?”

  He grinned. “Yup. Best on my team for a few years running until I broke my leg.”

  “Ouch. How did that happen?”

  “Jumping off the barn into a hay bale.”

  She turned wide eyes on him. “That’s dangerous.”

  “No shit. Especially when you miss.”

  The washer and dryer were in the mudroom off the kitchen, which meant walking through a heavenly smell. On the island, a tray of what looked like cinnamon rolls, drowning in icing, still liquid from being poured onto the hot treats.

  “Ooh. My favorite.” Dom moaned, almost in as much pleasure as he had in the shower that morning when she’d put her mouth on him. The throbbing between her legs approved of the fact that he found her more delicious than his treat.

  He set the basket down and leaned over the goods, eyes closed in rapture as he inhaled. “Want one?”

  “Sure.”

  He expertly slid a cinnamon bun, gooey with sticky sugar, onto a small plate, still warm to the touch. She held the edge of the plate to her mouth and tugged off a bite with her teeth.

  She groaned, almost as loudly as when he’d had his face between her thighs.

  “Dear God, that’s good.” She couldn’t help but savor each delicious bite. When she finished it, she seriously debated licking the plate.

  He didn’t. His tongue made quick work of the icing, and she followed suit.

  “That was insanely good,” she said, following his example and placing the plate in the dishwasher.

  “It was. But we need to pace ourselves. Laundry before another one.”

  “Another one?” She couldn’t help the excited lilt.

  “You are so fucking cute.” He drew her to him for a kiss, nibbling her lips, making her melt. Given the pleasure, she kind of now wished she’d not been so hasty years ago. Sure, his methods might be crude, but damn, the man set her girly parts on fire.

  And the magazines did claim you could teach a man new tricks. In her case, she could teach him the do’s and don’ts of today’s world.

  He ended the embrace and with a gruff voice said, “We should probably get the laundry going before I take you on this counter and get into trouble with my mom.”

  How wrong was it that she wanted him to do exactly that?

  The laundry room was a mudroom essentially wi
th a door leading into the yard. However, add one big man into a super small space, and she couldn’t help her awareness of him.

  Dom watched as she measured out soap and dumped in her light clothes for the first load. Only once she got it going did he drag her into his arms for another kiss.

  “Wanna sneak up the back stairs to my room?” he whispered against her mouth.

  She did but… “What if someone hears us?”

  “Raymond’s probably in the basement. Don’t worry, he won’t bug us.”

  While tempted, she refused. “I can’t. It’s too weird for me.”

  He sighed. Sadly.

  She laughed. “We could go for a walk instead.” She’d noticed a trail going into the woods.

  “Let’s go.” He dragged her to the door and opened it, only to exclaim, “Fuck!”

  “What’s wrong?” She peeked around him to see the world wet and cold. The rain cancelled the walk before it even began.

  So much for it ending in sex.

  The disappointment was real.

  “I don’t know about you, but I could use another cinnamon bun,” he suggested.

  “Yes!” She practically dragged him to the kitchen, as eager as he to have another.

  Only to hear him yell, “No!”

  To their shock, in the minutes they’d been gone, the pan had been emptied. Only traces of the icing were left behind.

  Delicious when she swiped a finger across it and licked. She dragged a digit through the sugar trail again and held it to his lips.

  He sucked it. Slowly. Erotically. Her toes curled as she rocked on her heels.

  Mmm.

  Maybe she should go with him upstairs.

  “Dude, get a room.”

  She recoiled, backing away from Dom, moving abruptly enough she would have landed on the floor if not for his arm holding her in place.

  Dom glared. “Great timing, Ray.”

  “Better me than Mom.”

  “Mom took Tyson to the doctor’s and you know that, cockblocker.”

  Raymond smirked. “Yup.”

  “Did you eat all the cinnamon rolls, too?”

  “You know I’m more of a protein guy.”

  “Maeve,” he grumbled. “She’s got radar for anything with cinnamon in it.”

  “You snooze, you lose.” Raymond shrugged. “Listen, I didn’t come upstairs just to wreck your sex life. I gotta show you something.”

  Sex life?

  Oh, God.

  The embarrassment tripled.

  She tugged to move out of his arms, but Dominick held her firm.

  “Does it have to be now?”

  “Yes.” Raymond shot her a look. Then added, “Alone.”

  Which was her cue. “I should check on my laundry.”

  It wasn’t quite ready to swap, so she sat on the washer and pulled out her phone, not that she had much to browse. She’d had to give up social media because of Thomas.

  When Dom came to find her, he inserted himself between her legs, with his hands grasping

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  He didn’t sound all right.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  She frowned. “Bullshit.” She wiggled to get off the washer.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Away from someone who lies to me.” Because he was obviously disturbed.

  He sighed. “Not lying, more like trying to process something really fucked up.”

  She arched a brow, nothing more.

  He kept talking. “And you’re right. If we’re gonna be together, no secrets. Which I’m gonna say right now is hard for me. In the military, we’re trained to not talk about shit.”

  “I’m not asking for military secrets. I want to know why you appear troubled.” Because it bothered her.

  “I’ll explain, but we need to run an errand at the same time.”

  “Now?”

  He nodded.

  “But my laundry…” she protested.

  “It will get done. I’ll send Raymond a text to swap it.”

  Get another man to do her clothes? “I don’t—”

  He pulled her close and kissed her. That quieted her argument.

  The embrace ended too soon, and he grabbed her hand to drag her after him.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as they headed for her car.

  “Pet store.”

  “What for?” she asked.

  “Because I need catnip.”

  She paused. “Dare I ask why?” Then she added, “Is this about the catnip spray thing from last night?” She could have sworn it was still half-full, and yet this morning, she’d found it empty and in the trash.

  “Raymond has this weird theory that Tyson might be allergic to it somehow. Or susceptible.”

  “Your brother isn’t a cat.”

  “That’s what I said. But”—he hung his head—“I have to wonder if Raymond is on to something. Because the baggie my brother smoked, just smelling it had me getting a little high.”

  “So, you’re going to buy some more, and what? Smoke it?” She was only half joking.

  “Possibly. Whatever helps Raymond and his tests.”

  “Is your brother some kind of scientist?”

  “Of sorts. He’s a hacker, who is also an information junkie.”

  Reaching her car, she pulled out her keys and said, “You drive.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “So I can see if you’re a road-raging maniac or that annoying twat who drives the speed limit or under.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ll give me a hint as to which one won’t get me into trouble?”

  She smiled. “Guess you’ll find out.”

  She actually didn’t care, so long as he didn’t crash, which she planned to make difficult. Because the moment she was buckled in, her hand went to his thigh.

  He rumbled, “You do realize we left a perfectly good bunk bed behind.”

  She blinked. “You invited me to your bunk bed?”

  “Top mattress.”

  That brought a chuckle. “Maybe we should stick to sex at my place.”

  “If you insist. Personally, anywhere you are is a good spot to me.”

  She agreed. It made her bold. Her hand crept over to his groin. “Earlier, you told the cops you were my boyfriend.”

  “Yup.”

  “You never officially asked me,” she mentioned.

  “I’d say it became obvious the first time my face was between your thighs and you came for me.”

  Heat filled her—all over. “What if I’m not looking for a relationship?”

  “Too bad. You’ve got me now.”

  “You’re bossy,” she declared, giving him a squeeze. He was hard for her. Had been from the moment she put her hand on him. There was something powerful and erotic about his unabashed desire.

  The car slowed.

  “Why are we stopping?” she asked.

  He turned to face her. “Anika, I know I’m a fucking dumbass most of the time and say the stupidest shit, but I like you. A lot. Mostly ’cause you put me in my place. You ain’t afraid of me. And you’re sexy as all fuck. Will you be my girlfriend?”

  Not the most eloquent of speeches, but so utterly heartfelt she didn’t just give his cock a squeeze through his pants; she unzipped him. Slipping out of the upper part of her seatbelt, she leaned over to put her face right above the bulge in his underwear.

  “Um, Anika, we’re kind of parked on the side of the road.”

  “Don’t let anyone see me then,” she advised before pulling him free.

  Having been with a few guys, she knew he was only slightly more than average length but thick. So thick she had to stretch her lips wide to put him into her mouth.

  He gasped, but he didn’t tell her to stop.

  She sucked him. Bobbed her head up and down. Suctioning. Licking. Getting horny herself as she remembered his slick and hard cock inside her.


  She moaned and moved in time to her strokes and then gasped as he manhandled her upward for a kiss. His hands shoved at her track pants—the sexy outfit she’d chosen to wear. Her attitude being: take me as I am.

  He did.

  In the car, on the side of the road, with vehicles zipping fast.

  She didn’t care.

  But the cop did.

  15

  Embarrassment had Anika ducked in her seat the rest of the way into town, whereas Dominick wore a wide grin.

  Yeah, he’d gotten a warning for fucking his girlfriend in public. As if he could have done anything less when she decided to blow him.

  She was so goddamned perfect it hurt.

  As they reached the pet store, she composed herself enough to say, “I don’t usually do that kind of thing.”

  “That’s because you and me, we’re special.”

  “And now criminals.”

  “Indecent exposure is just a misdemeanor. Don’t worry. It won’t go on your permanent record.” He winked playfully.

  Him.

  Playful.

  She brought out the softer, more fun side of him.

  “What kind of catnip are we buying?” she asked as they headed for the entrance.

  “Dunno. Depends what they got. Maybe one of everything?”

  “You know it sounds nuts, right?”

  “I do.” They headed for the store, and the moment they entered, his chin lifted, and he sniffed. “Can you smell that?” Faint yet delicious.

  “If you mean wet dog…” She grimaced over at the washing station where canines were getting a bath.

  “I’m talking about something sweet. Follow me.” Because his nose had chosen a direction. They threaded the aisles to the one labelled, Feline Treats. As they entered the aisle, he scanned the shelves and read labels. Dried meat. Weird processed crap. A section on catnip that had him licking his lips, but the things that drew his eye were the trays of fluffy green grass.

  He rubbed his hand over it. Soft. Nice. If he had a big enough patch, he’d love to roll naked on it. However, at seven ninety-seven each, it would cost him well over a hundred bucks to buy enough of them.

  But they weren’t the source of the smell he sought. Anika found it. “Hey, Dom. Check this out. They actually sell catnip plants.”

  He reached for the potted plants and lifted them to his face. He stuck his nose against it for a deep whiff. He then bit off a leaf and ate it. It tasted so fucking amazing.

 

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