Completely Mine: Bliss Series, Book Four

by Hall, Deanndra

“No. But I did come to make you laugh. Open your eyes.” When I do, he’s standing there with a pair of my boxer briefs.

  “What the fuck are you doing with those?”

  “Look.” He holds them up and unfolds them, and they look like Swiss cheese.

  “What the hell?”

  “Bullet holes. Everything in your dresser looks like that. You, my friend, have air conditioned clothing now,” he says, laughing.

  “Damn. How bad is it?”

  “There’s nothing salvageable, I don’t think. She had us go and look at the damage, and it’s a wreck. Dishes broken, clothes destroyed, and everything’s soaked with water. I don’t think anybody’s going to be living in that apartment for a while.”

  “Shit, what are we going to do?”

  “Steffen and Sheila want you to come there. They’ve got an extra bedroom and you’re welcome there for as long as you’d like.”

  “Where is she?” I ask, glancing around. I hope she didn’t change her mind about staying.

  “Down in the cafeteria. Olivia told her she had to get something to eat. She didn’t want to leave, but I promised her I’d stay and make your life a living hell if you woke up.”

  I yawn. “Thanks for that.”

  “Pleasure to be of service. Oh, by the way, the best part?” I nod. “Did you hear the crashing glass?”

  “Yeah. What was that?”

  “The fucking S.W.A.T. team rappelled onto your balcony and through the doors! Just like in the movies or something! Wish I’d been there to see that,” he mutters as he finishes the sentence.

  “Oh, yeah. Big fun. What about Matt and his buddies?”

  “They’re fine and back at the department here. I think he’s getting some kind of commendation or something. He should. Son of a bitch saved your girlfriend’s life.”

  “What about that detective? Derek Rodgers? Please tell me he’s not in trouble.”

  Dave laughs. “Oh, no, he’s not in trouble. But that whole gang is in trouble for threatening him and his family. He’s just another noose looking for their necks.” I’m relieved to hear that. The last thing I wanted was Derek getting in trouble for something he couldn’t help.

  “Hey! You’re awake!” a female voice says, and it only takes a few seconds for her to come into view. “How ya feelin’?”

  “Like I got run over by a truck this silly motherfucker was driving,” I say and point to Dave. He snorts.

  “I’m going home. I know when I’m not wanted,” Dave grouses and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Talk to you soon,” I call after him.

  He waves to me from the hallway. “See you in a day or so.”

  “Need anything?” she asks as she moves to the side of my bed and takes my hand.

  “You. Nothing and nobody but you,” I tell her and grip her hand tightly.

  “You’ve got me. Guess Dave told you about the apartment, huh?”

  I nod. “Yeah. Damn shame. I liked that place.”

  “I guess Zimmer Locations is going to get to relocate itself, huh?” she asks with a smile.

  “I’m buying you a house,” I say, as though we’ve already talked about it.

  “Oh, you are, are you? And where is this house going to be?”

  “Dunno. Gotta find it first.”

  “Yeah, that would help. We’re going to Steffen and Sheila’s for a little while.”

  “That’s what I hear. Did you say you want to change your name to Cirilla?”

  She nods. “Yep. And Franklin was my mother’s family name, so I think that’s good.”

  I stare at her for a second. “I could’ve sworn you told me you wanted to change it to Zimmer.”

  “I’d like to, but first, somebody else has to come up with that idea.”

  “I can’t. You already did,” I say, grinning.

  “We’ll talk about it. But we have to get you out of here first. Here.” She sticks a bag out in front of me. “Contraband. I’ll get in so much trouble if they find out.” I open it, which is quite a feat with one hand, and it’s my favorite roast beef sandwich from that little shop down the street from the apartment.

  “Oh, this’ll be good,” I moan, taking in a big whiff of the meat and crusty bread.

  “It’s all yours.” Then she winks and says, “And I am too.”

  “That’ll make this sandwich taste even better,” I tell her and wink back.

  “Well, look at this guy. Is that a bad sandwich I smell?” Matt says as he strides into the room, laughing.

  “Yep. Don’t tell the nurse out there. She’ll give me an enema this evening just so I won’t remember how much I enjoyed this thing,” I say as I stick out my right hand, and he takes it and holds it, then claps his other hand over it before shaking it hard. “I’m glad to see you. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done.” He won’t ever understand how grateful I am.

  “You’re welcome. They’ve got the congressman on conspiracy to commit murder. The hit man flipped on him. Guy’s getting twenty-five years. Congressman is getting a lot more than that. He’s a real tool,” Matt says as he pulls up a chair. “But he won’t be framing anybody else. Oh, and they have a body in Bethesda they think is one of his old political opponents. Turned up in a landfill. Sloppy disposal job, if you ask me.”

  “No shit. Did you get your promotion?”

  “I’m getting my promotion. And a raise. But mostly, I’m getting old,” Matt says with a grin.

  I just shake my head. “Aren’t we all.”

  “Well,” he says, standing, “I just wanted to come by and tell you how glad I am that you’re going to be okay. And that you, little lady,” he says, pointing to my new girlfriend, Cirilla Franklin, “are home safe and sound and out of any kind of danger.”

  “Thank you so much, Detective Littlemeier. I really appreciate everything you did,” she says with a smile.

  “That is and always will be Matt to you. You guys take care and if you need anything, just let me know.”

  “Bye! Thanks for coming by to see me,” I call after him as he heads down the hallway. “Nice guy.”

  “Yeah.”

  Something’s been bugging me for a while, and I think I’ve got to dive in. I may hit my head on the bottom, but at least I will have tried. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure. Ask me anything.”

  “How in the hell did you get involved with Hubley?”

  She sits down and sighs before she speaks. “I’d been through a really bad breakup. I was working in a dentist’s office there in D.C., and he was a patient. When he’d come in, he was always nice to me. He always complimented me, always smiled at me. He remembered my name. One day I stopped at this bar on my way home and he walked in and sat down beside me. We started talking, and we talked for hours. I was younger, and to me he was handsome and sophisticated, so when he asked me to go out with him, I said yes. I don’t think I realized who he was at first, but one of the girls at work caught on to the fact that I was seeing him and climbed all over me. She got me fired for going out with one of our clients, and a married one at that.”

  “Ouch,” I whisper.

  “Yeah. When I told him, he said not to worry about it, that he’d help me out. He got me a nice apartment, new car, gave me plenty of money. Before I knew it, he was keeping me up and I was basically his whore. It happened so gradually that I didn’t understand what was going on until it was done.”

  “I can see how that could be.”

  “He kept telling me how he wanted to marry me, but his wife was a bitch and wouldn’t give him a divorce. By that time, we were sneaking around, meeting other places. Like the night she was murdered. I drove all the way to Philly to meet him at a motel so she wouldn’t know. And, well, you see what happened.” She stopped for a minute, then said, “The man I knew was kind, loving, generous, funny, sweet, sexy―”

  “So, basically, he was me,” I say with a grin.

  “Oh, ha. Yeah, basically. But, my god, I never thought
he’d be capable of killing somebody. Or having them killed, I should say. After she was murdered, I realized he’d used me to get rid of his wife. Not only was I up on murder charges, but I was heartbroken too.”

  “And the reason you didn’t want to get close to anybody,” I point out.

  “Not really. I mean, yeah, but that was mostly because I didn’t want anybody else getting in trouble. And instead, you got shot. Not a good trade-off, I don’t think.” Her eyes are sad, and I wish I could take all those horrible years away from her and make them disappear.

  “Eh. I’ll be fine. In the meantime, you did such a great job finding the apartment … Would you look for a house for us?”

  “What do you want in a home?” she asks, and I know she’s being serious.

  “I want you in a home. With me,” I say with a snicker.

  “Very funny, Sir. But seriously, amenities?”

  I name all the things I think are most important. But I wasn’t kidding. The most important thing I want in a home is this woman. She is my home. She’s my everything.

  * * *

  “Don’t pick that up! Let one of the guys do it!”

  “I’m not an invalid. I can pick up a damn box,” I almost yell back.

  She stands there, hands on her hips, feet shoulder width apart, and fixes me with a wilting stare. “No. Let them do it. You want something to do? Sweep. That would be a big help,” she says as she retreats into the foyer.

  “Meh-meh-meh-meh-meh,” I mouth in my snarkiest voice.

  “I heard that!”

  “Of course you did,” I mumble. “I can’t fart without you hearing it.”

  “I heard that too!” she shouts back from outside the front door.

  “Giving you a hard time?” Dave asks as he passes me with a box marked Kitchen.

  “Yeah. That’s her primary job,” I grouse.

  “She’s trying to keep you from hurting yourself,” he says as he walks away.

  “I know, I know. But it’s been eight weeks,” I point out.

  Dave shakes his head as he makes a return trip. “The doctor said it would be a good sixteen weeks until you’re back to one hundred percent.”

  I give up. Nobody will let me do anything. But I have this sneaky feeling that when it comes time to unpack all these boxes, she’s going to be fine with me helping. Thank god I’d put a lot of stuff in storage when we moved to town. All that stuff is coming in handy, seeing as how everything we had was ruined in what I’ve started to call “Zimmer’s Last Stand.” I was fortunate the landlord didn’t try to dun me for all the damage, and I’m thankful I had good renter’s insurance.

  Everybody at the club really came through for us. By the time she got to Dave and Olivia’s to shower and put on clean clothes, club members had brought over underwear, bras, socks, jeans, yoga pants, lounge pants for me, tees, athletic shoes, and just about every other thing you could think of. Melina and Trish went over and salvaged what they could of our personal items, which were mostly intact, so we had toothbrushes, shampoo, and all that stuff. When I was ready to leave Steffen and Sheila’s and go to a place that we could call home, the members gave us a huge household shower, and we got a lot of things we really needed. Anything electronic, from the TV to the toaster, to her blow dryer, were all ruined. We spent three weeks writing thank-you notes in the evenings after work, and that wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.

  Once I knew her name was Sandria, I started to think of her that way, and then she wanted to keep Cirilla. Half the time I just stand there and think, What am I supposed to call her? When I can’t remember, I call her baby. That seems to be good enough for her.

  The Pairing was scheduled in the middle of all of this. I couldn’t oversee it, so Dave did it. But on the last night, at the collaring ceremony, I used it as an opportunity to offer my submissive my collar, which she took gladly. That’s one ceremony I’ll never forget, and not only for what it meant to us. Poor Melina. Once again, the Dom she’d spent two weeks with didn’t show up to collar her. Dave and I spent an hour after the ceremony talking to her while she cried.

  The last box comes into the house at a little after four, so I call out and order pizza delivered for all of us. The kids especially like that idea, and it’s great to have our new house filled with laughter and noise, at least temporarily.

  Our new house. This place is great. Gated community, back of the house is all glass and facing the lake, beautiful landscaping. We were lucky to find it at the price we paid. Seems someone had started building it and then defaulted on the mortgage, so it wasn’t going to be finished. They gave us a sweet deal so it wouldn’t sit there unfinished, and it didn’t take long for them to get it ready. Since it was empty, we could move in at closing. I love Steffen and Sheila and I appreciated them letting us stay there, but their house is a family home, and we were in the way. They would never have said it, but I know they were glad to see us go.

  Cirilla made sure they put the bed together before they left. At least we have somewhere to sleep while we sort through everything. I’m exhausted, she’s pretty damn tired, and we start getting ready for bed. I try to help her with the sheets, but it hurts, so I just do what I can. About the time we settle into bed, I say, “Oh! I forgot! There’s a box around here that I can’t lose. We need to find it.”

  She sighs loudly. “What box?”

  “Um, it’s a little bigger than a shoebox.”

  There’s a moment of silence before she asks, “Well? Are you going to get up and look for it?”

  “Could you do it? I’m really tired,” I say.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Oh, baby, please?”

  “Dear god,” she mutters as she gets up and stalks out of the bedroom. “Any idea where I’m supposed to be looking?”

  “Probably in the oven,” I answer.

  “What?” she yells back.

  “Look in the oven.” There’s some cursing and stomping, and then I hear the oven door bang shut.

  She stomps back into the bedroom with a box in her hand. “Is this the box?” she asks, looking at the thing covered in all kinds of tape. I mean, I covered it. Pretty much every square inch.

  “Yeah. That’s it.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Open it up and see. I only have one good arm.” I’m trying so hard not to laugh that I’m almost choking.

  “Oh. My. God. You are unbelievable, you know that?” she says, then goes to the dresser and pulls out a pair of scissors. Once she’s cut through all the tape, she opens the box, then hands it to me. “Here. Your box. I hope it’s important.”

  I push it back and refuse to take it. “Oh, it’s very important. Open it.”

  There’s a bunch of paper in there, but she’s sifting through it, and she lifts out a small bundle. When she unwraps it, she starts to cry. It’s her pottery. Somehow, in all the chaos, it was untouched, so I had Trish gather it up, wrap it, and put it in the box. “I don’t believe it. I really don’t. It survived!”

  “And we did too.” I wait until she has all the pottery out, then reach through the rest of the crumpled paper to the bottom and pull out the tiny velvet-covered box. “Actually, I think this is yours as well,” I say and extend my hand, the box sitting squarely in the middle of my palm.

  She just stares at it for a few seconds and then says, “Oh, Brian …”

  “If you don’t want it, that’s okay. I’ll take it back,” I say, biting back laughter.

  “Well, that’ll all depend on what it looks like, won’t it?” she says with a chuckle and opens the box. The next words from her are a breathy, “Oh my god.”

  Inside the box is a ring, its center a huge Asscher-cut blue topaz, and the rest of the thing is covered in diamonds. Big ones around the large center stone, little ones all over the band, and it matches the band she’s been wearing perfectly. It’s possibly the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen, and I want it to be worn by the most beautiful woman I’ve ever kn
own. “I was going to wait, but I just couldn’t. I want to see it on your hand.”

  “Does this mean what I think it means, Sir?”

  “What do you want it to mean?”

  She tears up and, in a voice hoarse with emotion, says, “I hope it means you actually want me to stay with you forever.”

  “Oh, baby,” I whisper as I reach for her, and I slip the ring on her finger before she snuggles up against me. “It means so much more than that.”

  * * *

  The wedding was fabulous. Dave performed the ceremony, a simple thing, but it was powerful. For the first time in eight years, Cirilla got to see her family. Her parents, sister, and aunt and uncle came all the way to Seattle from Baltimore to be here. My parents died years before, but my half brother, Lucien, came. He’s been living in San Francisco, and we’ve decided that’s too close to not see each other more often. And I’m glad. We’ve always gotten along.

  The honeymoon was incredible too. I had no idea there was a cruise for kinksters, but Dave and Olivia found one, and the six of them paid for us to go as a wedding gift. It was amazing. It took the “rock out with your cock out” party concept to a whole new level. There was even one of those dinner parties where the food was served from submissives’ bodies. Amazing.

  And now she’s about to get her wedding present. I can barely wait to see her reaction.

  We’ve only been home from the airport for about four hours, and we’re working hard to get our suitcases emptied and laundry started when the doorbell rings. I think I know who it is, so I yell, “I’ll get it!” across the house.

  I was wrong. It’s Clint and Trish, and she’s got three casserole dishes. “We thought you might be able to use some food this evening,” Trish says.

  “That’s so great! Thanks so much! Yeah, we hadn’t given much thought to food,” I tell them.

  “Hey! What’s going on?” Cirilla calls out when she steps into the room. “Oh my god! You brought us dinner? You two are lifesavers!” she cries, hugs Trish, and then turns and hugs Clint. “Thank you so much!”

  Clint’s smile is huge. “You’re very welcome. We’ve gotta run, gotta pick the kids up from school, then the girls have gymnastics and Morris has karate. We’re just glad you’re home safe and sound and enjoyed the cruise.” He knows this because we called all of them from the ship and told them what a great time we were having.