Dom Wars: Round Four

by Lucian Bane

The woman had turned ten shades of red by the time I was done. She blinked several times before halfway gaining her composure. "I…I'm not sure they have that here."

  "But you're familiar with what I'm describing?" I moved closer to her and put my arm on the rack, putting Tara at my back. "You seem like you might be. You certainly have the body type for it."

  "Oh my, I…I think I know what you're talking about. And I'm pretty sure they don't carry that here."

  "Can you direct me where I can find that? I'm in the mood for something…a little wild. Do you feel what I'm saying?"

  She cleared her throat and angled her head, pointing a little. "You're um…friend is…"

  I slowly closed my eyes, not needing to look to know she was leaving. "Sorry for my inappropriate behavior." I barely managed the words. "I didn't mean one fucking word of it."

  I hurried after Tara, following her to the car. Shit, Steve hadn't called.

  "Tara!" I yelled as she began to half run out the store. Jesus Christ.

  I hurried to catch her and then decided why the fuck. It was useless. I finished my trek at a regular pace not surprised to find she'd locked me out. Out of the car, out of her heart. Her fucking life.

  At least it was over. Another murder committed and done. I leaned my back against the door, looking around, hanging my head in disgust. Couldn't even say I was sorry.

  Fifteen minutes later, Steve half ran to the car, awkwardly clutching a white stuffed cat half his body size. He didn't notice me until he got to the limo. "Jumping Joseph on a pogo stick!" he exclaimed with wide eyes.

  I shook my head in defeat.

  "She's…"

  "I got an assignment. She locked me out. And I don't fucking blame her."

  "What about…"

  "A two story stuffed donkey kong named I'm fucked wouldn't even fix this!" I kept my words to a hiss and resisted the urge to slam my fist on the car. "And now I have to go in there and play saint fucking Lucifer."

  He handed me the giant kitten. "Do what you can. We're late to the final domination."

  "Final?"

  He nodded, grim. "I can tell you now. The last two dominations happen at the same address." He added a pained frown.

  "Do I know this address well?"

  He grimaced a bit. "You do, my friend." He put a hand on my shoulder and nodded once. "You know it very well."

  I rolled my eyes and dropped my head. "Okay. Let's do it."

  Steve hit the button on his keys and the locks disengaged. I opened the door and climbed in, only to have the giant cat get stuck in the door. I angled it tail first and pulled it in. "A gift for you." I sat it on the floor between me and Tara and pointed to the name tag as I shut the door. "Sari is its name. I thought you'd like it."

  "Sorry? Are you apologizing with this gift?"

  Wow. Gun to head. "Apologizing for what?"

  "Fuck you," she muttered.

  "Okay," I said, softly.

  Fifteen minutes into the dreadful ride there, her phone rang. She took it out and threw it at me. I looked at the text, dread making me sick. Make love to Lucian.

  Fucking bastards. No, fucking bitch. I knew without a doubt Danielle was behind this twisted bullshit. No fucking way anyone else would be so brutal.

  "I have to make love to you."

  "You don't have to do a damn thing," she muttered.

  "Are you quitting?"

  "Fucking yes I am."

  "Really? Fantastic. Let me tell Steve to stop now."

  "You're so thrilled to not have to make love to me."

  "No, I'm so thrilled to not play this fucking game anymore."

  She spun in her seat. "I get a make love to Lucian text, and you're suddenly so sick of this game?" She spun back forward, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring out the window. "We're not quitting dip-shit. We're playing. You don't want to make love to me? Too goddamn bad, you have no fucking choice."

  "Oh now that is where you're wrong, sweetheart. I have always had a choice and I can make it right fucking now." I banged on the divider between me and Steve and the window lowered. "I'm done, I quit this game. Take me back."

  She looked at me and I glared at her.

  "You thought I was stuck in this? Doing all this bullshit for me princess?"

  "Then why? Don't fucking say for me mister, I think I'm not stupid. This is not for me."

  "You'd be wrong."

  "So this is all for me while you practically fuck that bitch in the lingerie department right in front of me!" She slammed her fists on the seat and Steve rolled the window back up, continuing to drive.

  "I was asking an innocent question. Why should that upset you if you trust me? Don't you trust me? Don't you know that I fucking love you?" God, I prayed, let her know.

  "Love!?" she shrieked, fury in her eyes. She launched at me, fists flying. I blocked her with my forearms, fighting to restrain her. She landed several punches in my face before I had my arms around her.

  "You busted my lip, sweetheart."

  "Good!" she sobbed. "I hope I did! I hope it hurts, you bastard!" The final words barely squeaked out.

  I fought with all my might not to say sorry. "I love you baby, how can you doubt me?" I gasped in her ear. "How the fuck?"

  "Because—"

  "Shhhhhh, shh. Don't fucking say it. Just know that, no matter what, I love you." I rocked her in my arms until she was still. Dead still.

  "We better do this assignment," she said, her tone flat.

  "Are you sure?" I asked.

  She removed her clothes and laid on the seat like a slab of meat offering. And yet all I could think of was taking that offering. Showing her what she meant to me.

  I got undressed and began at her feet. I worshipped her sweet body with my lips and tongue, letting my fingers dance softly and reverently along her skin. Her body betrayed her resistance, raising goosebumps on her flesh. I bypassed the juncture of her thighs, and I bypassed her breasts, hoping she knew it wasn't sexual for me. It was her. All her.

  I kissed along her face, willing the flood of my emotions into her. Silently begging her to believe in me. Trust in me. I finally covered her body with mine and she didn't embrace me.

  I put my forehead on her shoulder and stroked along her entrance. Amazing how my body refused to not be aroused even while my soul wept in agony. I entered her quickly, hoping to break through, needing to. For both of us. We were fucking drowning together. Don't drown baby. Please hold on.

  I commanded her desire with deep kisses and thrusts until she was my Tara again. Clawing, moaning, devouring me back. Like she needed me. Wanted me. Loved me.

  I pressed my face into hers and clenched my eyes shut, moving inside her heat, thankful her body realized what her mind didn't. This might be a small victory, but I clutched at it with everything in me.

  Too soon, she came undone around me, shuddering in her orgasm, and my body refused to be left behind. The freight trained slammed into me and I poured into her before the final spasms left her.

  Fearing my weight would crush her, I shifted to my side, tugging her with me until she lay half on me, her head pillowed on my chest. "Don't forget, I love you, baby."

  Tara didn't reply and exhaustion from the past… I had no clue how many days, rolled over me, insisting I stay still for a bit. I closed my eyes and let my breathing even out, hoping for a little sleep. Just before I surrendered, I felt dampness on my chest. Oh God. I realized she was crying. Hot tears burning my skin and heart. All while she didn't make a sound.

  Chapter Twelve

  After we woke, Steve stopped at yet another convenience store so we could clean up a little. Couldn't show up for my crucifixion smelling like sex. I put on the khakis and polo they'd directed I wear for this. Could they get any further from what I'd normally wear? Despite my disgust, I couldn't help the little thrill of anticipation from wondering what they'd given Tara to wear.

  I left the restroom and headed for the car, dread dogging my steps. Every instant drew me
closer to the kind of misery that drove people insane. Between what the game was doing to Tara and me, and having to face my father, confront him even, I couldn't imagine much of anything worse. I was sure there must be something, but fuck if I knew what it was.

  I waited beside the rental car, reluctant to get inside it one instant before I had to. So I stood in the hot early evening sun and just waited. I would miss the limo for this part of the journey. No more privacy, no more of Tara's scent filling the air.

  Tara came out of the store and my heart stood still. She was in an almost sheer white blouse and a blue skirt that flowed about her lower calves, swaying with every step she took. She'd slicked her hair into an elegant style and applied makeup. She fucking took my breath away.

  Struck entirely dumb, all I could do was open the car door for her. She slid inside without a word and all the way over to the other side. I climbed in after her as Steve left the store, dressed so casually I hardly recognized him. He got behind the wheel and we were under way once more, the tires eating the miles way too quickly.

  My heart sped up when we turned into the long drive leading to my parent's ranch. Seven in the evening. We had to spend the fucking night. Steve had come with a cover story for his presence. He was Tara's chaperone, paid for by her grandmother since it was a sleep over. Not allowed to sleep together, fucking stupid cover story. Tara kept her normal life story, I kept mine. Oh and it was my mother's birthday party, the one I'd been invited to the day I found the Dom Wars ad in the paper. How fucking quaint and convenient that turned out. Almost…planned. By that bitch named Danielle, I was more sure than ever.

  Tara sat once again at the far side of the car and I sat like granite on my side. It was me, all me, on this. I never needed anybody before and I wasn't going to start needing them now. Even I wasn't dumb enough to believe the lies I kept telling myself, but it wasn't like I had much choice.

  The drive to the house caught me by surprise. Nothing had changed in the several years since my last visit. The orchard to the left was still carefully pruned, obviously still producing, judging by the braces ready to support the heavy branches as the fruit grew larger. The live oaks along the drive were the same as always.

  "Beautiful," Tara whispered, looking all around. "Just beautiful."

  It should be an amazing evening, my first time bringing her home. The woman I loved. And I couldn't even enjoy it. But I'd have to pretend I was having a joyful good time. I welcomed the anger burning in my bones and mind, igniting my thoughts and making them into fire whips of blame. I mentally lashed out at my bastard father. Ex-military religious nut. He was like a fucking…Hitler Dom. Women were to be seen not heard, possessions to be kept not treasured. To be controlled, not nurtured. To be forced, not inspired. A reflection of his needs and desires. Never hers. Unless it made him feel good.

  And my brother. Couldn't wait to introduce the narcissistic, sexual predator, drug jock pig to Tara. And here I was, the prodigal son. Only, Jared was the one loafing off of dad's fortunes while I made a living with the swine. Yet, I was the prodigal fucking son? Fuck them.

  My nerves settled a little when I thought of mom. Turning sixty. Wow. How time flied. I bet she was still beautiful as ever though. Miss Texas in 1976. Lucky me, I was the only child that had taken after her looks. The oddball.

  Lucky me, I inherited nothing of my father. And boy did he resent that. No way was I his son. No son of mine doesn't play sports. No son of mine is into girl things. That qualified as books. Music. Philosophy. But that would be his fault and I had that to thank him for. From the earliest that I could remember, he made sure to tell me I didn't fit into the family. Only my mother cared and encouraged me. And she took heat for that shit too. Everything I did brought bad, no matter who or what I was, it wasn't right. Ever. And I paid for it physically, mentally, and emotionally.

  And yet, I was still Lucian fucking Bane. And that was because I'd inherited one thing from him. His dominance. And thank fuck, I'd used it to make sure I would never be like him. Thank fuck I'd learned to control who I was with my intellect, not my religious dick.

  Steve whistled when the Texas style mansion came into view. "Wow. What a place." His Georgian accent came through as he put the car in park and turned to us. "Remember the cover story?" He went over the details like a gentle father talking to his favored children. I realized suddenly that was why I liked Steve. He was a nice man. Genuinely. "Oh and don't be alarmed with any information I dish out. I had to create an entire fictional life for myself to make this look authentic." I could swear he paled, just a little. "You called them, correct?"

  "Five minutes ago."

  "Okay, good. I'll get the bags after introductions. Is that okay for you guys?"

  "Yes," we both said together.

  He looked at both of us, his face crimped. "Can you both…get along for this? It would help the situation if you could."

  Again we both agreed together and then got out of the car. We made our way to the front door and stood like the three stooges. My heart slammed my chest, wondering who would open the door. Part of me wanted it to be a family member and another part of me hoped it was the help to remind me how much they didn't want to really see me. Except my mom. And she would not come, just to appease my father.

  The door opened and my mother gasped and put her hands over her face. "Lucian!" she hurried out the door and hugged me tight.

  The unexpected immediate affection threw me, making it awkward. "Mom, you look beautiful." Surprise made my voice a little higher than normal. Had she gone against the old man?

  "Oh, I'm an old hag!" She turned to Tara. "Who is this?" She looked back at me, a twinkle in her eyes.

  "This is Tara."

  "HI, Mrs. Bane, it's a huge honor to meet you. Lucian has told me so many wonderful things about you. And you are as beautiful as he described you."

  I raised my brows at her, impressed and… wait, not impressed, she was putting on a show. Of course. "Tara is a life coach. She specializes in helping people feel good about themselves, achieve their goals."

  "Oh? Is this how you two met?"

  She looked at me, and I panicked at not knowing the answer to that. "Yes! It is." Tara rubbed my back in mechanical circles. "He was—"

  "Mom, she's a jester. We met at the library. She was holding a seminar and I was completely enraptured with her. I asked her on a date and we've been together since."

  "Since?"

  "January," Tara said. "Right after Christmas. Perfect start to a new year."

  "Ohhh, give me a hug then." She hugged Tara. "Welcome to the family."

  She pulled away and looked at Steve. "I'm Steve, madam." He bowed his head a little. "The chaperone."

  "Chaperone?" My mother sounded humored.

  "Orders of Tara's wonderful sweet grandmother. To protect Tara's chaste reputation." Steve nodded ever so slightly again.

  I nearly snickered at that one.

  "Well, well, well, if it isn't my big bro and his…" my brother looked at Tara and I put my arm around Tara's shoulder.

  "Tara. My girlfriend."

  He gave a shocked look at me. "Girlfriend? You settling down Don Juan?" He flashed that perfect Jock grin on his perfect Jock face.

  "My mother's instincts say he's in love." Mom sighed, dreamily.

  Tara leaned her head on my arm. "He's my soul mate. I do love this man." She stroked my chest with her other hand and I couldn't bring myself to smile despite the joy his expression gave me.

  My mother clapped lightly and spoke in hushed tones to Steve while Jared sneered. "Love, huh?" He stepped back and eyed Tara up and down. "I can dig that." He gave her an openly seductive smile and approving nod. "I can really dig that."

  It was practically a fucking sexual assault with words.

  "And I'm Steve." Steve shoved his hand between us as though breaking up a fight and Jared stepped back. He held his fist out to Steve for a knuckle tap. Steve looked confused before doing the same.

  Ja
red turned his cocky lopsided grin to me. "Dad's waiting for you to come see him. In the family room." He turned to Tara. "How about I show you around?"

  "How about no," I said. "I can give her the tour just fine."

  He held up both hands as though I was attacking him. "Easy bro. I'm not trying to get your girl." He slid his gaze to her. "Yet." His laughter hit my muscles like an assault. "Bro, I'm kidding, quit with the death looks. I got babes."

  "Rebekah?"

  "Nah. She's history."

  "Good for her."

  "I can't wait to meet your father, Lucian." Again Steve broke up the silent grudge match, stepping forward. "Let's go, shall we gentlemen?"

  "Yes, let's," my mom said. "You boys still fight like children. When will the two of you grow up?" Mom kept rattling to Steve about how Jared and I fought about everything like it was just the cutest thing. She was in denial. Pretending it wasn't what it was. No, nothing had changed.

  We finally made it to the family room where King Tut rose from his throne recliner. "Well, well, well, look what the cattle drove in. My wayward son."

  "Hey old man," I said, "long time no see." I went over and hugged him roughly before returning to Tara's side. "This is Tara, my girlfriend. And Steve, her chaperone," I added quickly, giving him more than one thing to address, praying it would be Steve.

  He eyed Tara. "Girlfriend? Is that what they call you girls nowadays? I thought it was call girl or show girl or something of the nature."

  I grit my teeth.

  "Tara is educated Harold," my mother sang. "She's a…" her face fell in sudden loss.

  "Life coach," Tara said, sticking her hand out to my father. "Mr. Bane. It's such a privilege to meet you. I've heard many amazing things about you."

  He boomed his laughter. "Honey, that's cute, but flattery will get you nowhere with me."

  Tara laughed with him. "It wasn't flattery, sir. It's just amazing. Like the as the amount of miles flies will travel to reach a pile of shit."

  The room went silent for a few seconds before Steve's baritone laughter rang out. "I'm Steve," he stuck his hand out to my father. "Tara's chaperone."

  "I heard. What the hell does she need a chaperone for? She's clearly not royalty." My father put his hand in Steve's who shook it boisterously.