by C. C. Gibbs
Coming to a stop before him, Kate tipped her head back and grinned. ‘You’re way too good to me.’
‘It’s not as though I’m losing out on the goodness factor. Everything feels good clear up to here.’ He swiped his finger across his forehead.
‘Life’s strange, isn’t it?’ Her voice went soft. ‘How we met, how I can’t live without you’ – she smiled – ‘at least for long.’
‘It’s good strange, babe. And it’s the same for me … your absence tears me up.’ He almost said, You have to sign the exclusivity contract, but caught himself. Time enough in the morning to begin that battle. ‘Lift your arms, now. We’re on the clock.’
Loss of control aside, when it came to pure gratification, she had to admit that having Dominic dress her was right up there with Venezuelan chocolate and winning the lottery. The act itself was an improbable contradiction of his public persona: it was tender, affectionate, impossibly erotic. And in her current mood of complete, utter adoration, Kate glanced at the shimmering midnight-green velvet, long-sleeved, scoop-neck blouse Dominic was holding and said, ‘Should I wear a bra?’
‘I wasn’t going to ask.’
‘Should I?’
‘You might be more comfortable.’
‘It’s not about me being comfortable.’ She smiled. ‘Are you worried about your mother?’
He shook his head. ‘That’s useless. There’s no pleasing her. But I don’t like other men looking at my tits. You know that.’
‘Yours?’ Her voice was teasing.
‘Yes. Mine.’ Not a scintilla of teasing in either word.
She shouldn’t feel a hot, sexy rush flood through her senses when he spoke like he owned her. Taking a small breath to tamp down her desire, she tried to speak in a normal tone. ‘I suppose you have some bras here.’
‘I suppose I do.’
She waved her hand at the walk-in closet, a great variety of women’s clothes visible on the racks. ‘How do you do this on short notice?’
‘Phone.’ From Paris. But he left that unsaid.
‘And everyone scurries.’
‘They don’t mind. They’re paid well.’
‘I suppose you have a bra in a matching colour.’
‘I expect so. Should we look?’
He found a dark green lace bra in a drawer of bras and held it out for her while she slid in her arms and turned her back to him.
Reaching around her, he slipped her breasts into the lacy cups, slid his fingers up the straps to smooth them over her shoulders, hooked the bra and bent to kiss her shoulder. ‘Maybe you won’t need a maid. Maybe I’ll always dress you,’ he whispered, his fully clothed body pressing into her back, his fingers slipping over her shoulders and downwards to the swell of her breasts. ‘Would you like that?’
Suffused with desire, Dominic’s powerful body and gentle touch stirring her senses, his sweet comments affecting her susceptible heart, she leaned back into his solid warmth, and nodded because tears were welling in her throat.
‘Hey, baby. We can’t have you crying,’ he whispered, beginning to recognize her moments of silence. He turned her in his arms. ‘You’ll mess up your non-existent mascara.’
She giggled.
‘That’s my girl.’
She sniffled. ‘I’d like to be your girl.’
‘Jesus, baby, some people are hard to convince. I’ve been saying this for a while.’
‘But maybe big-time players say it all the time.’
He grinned. ‘Or not at all until you came along. I might have to get a billboard after all and put it up in neon. Although, not now,’ he said, taking a step back. ‘We gotta get moving. Oh, Jeez.’
He almost took her bra off again she looked so goddamn sexy with her pale breasts in high, plump mounds above the scalloped cups. He almost gave in to temptation and, had the clock not inopportunely chimed the quarter hour, he would have. Instead, he sucked in a breath, grabbed the velvet top, quickly slid it over her head and down her arms. Adjusting the scoop neckline bordered in beaded glitter, he smoothed the delicate velvet down her ribcage.
‘I can’t decide about panties,’ he said.
‘I can tell it’s a family party.’
‘You’re right. Panties tonight.’ He leaned over and smoothly slid two fingers into her succulent sex. ‘But I promised you one for the road. Interested?’ When she didn’t answer other than to clutch his shoulders, he whispered, ‘That must be a yes.’ Gracefully dropping to his knees, he spread her legs wider with a little nudge of his free hand, then leaned forward and added his tongue to his fingers, licking and sucking her clit while he lazily stroked her pulsing tissue, deep and slow, in a gentle ebb and flow, or side to side, or more forcefully and compellingly at times – his virtuoso skills were well honed. Practice makes perfect was not just an idle phrase for Dominic Knight.
Kate’s world narrowed to soft, lambent sensation, to touch and feel, to the exquisite cadence and rhythm of Dominic’s fingers, to the benevolent performance of his mouth and tongue. To a simmering, seething, increasingly frantic delirium as he scissored his fingers open inside her for better access, reached for her G-spot and licked it like a lollipop.
She captured his head in a vice-like grip, wanting to preserve the intoxicating pressure, the wild, fierce glory, whimpering as flame-hot rapture ravished her senses, spiked through her core, left her quivering in limbo.
He drew his head back fractionally. ‘Ready, babe?’
Did she have to answer? Could she find the breath to answer? What if she couldn’t? She struggled to speak.
‘It’s OK, Katherine,’ he said gently. ‘I’ve got this.’ Carefully forcing in a third finger, he slowly slid it in palm deep, until she was gorged, until every sleek bit of tissue was stirred and stretched, throbbing in time to the frantic beat of her heart. Then he dipped his head, recaptured the small nub of her clit and sucked with tender, exquisite restraint.
She instantly climaxed with a familiar unbridled scream.
He smiled; there was no faking it with Katherine. Careful not to move his fingers, he waited until she slowly opened her eyes. ‘Satisfactory?’ He glanced up from under his lashes.
She sighed, unflexed her fingers clamped in his hair. ‘As in completely mind-blowing, Mr Knight.’
‘Good to hear, Miss Hart,’ he replied politely, sliding his fingers out, coming to his feet, touching his finger tips to his mouth. ‘Ummm … nice. If we weren’t going out, I’d leave your mark on me, but’ – he gestured at a comfortable chair – ‘sit for a minute. I’ll be right back.’
Dropping into the soft, cushiony chair upholstered in a sunny, surfing motif fabric, Kate basked in a warm post-orgasmic haze while the sound of running water echoed from the bathroom. Even when Dominic returned, she didn’t move. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured. ‘I’m on pause.’ She smiled at him. ‘My body’s in overload.’
‘You’ll have time to wind down at the party. Then you’ll be ready again.’ He grinned. ‘Because we’re on vacation.’
‘Is that what a vacation means? Non-stop screwing?’
‘I’ve never taken a vacation before. But non-stop screwing is definitely on my agenda with you. I hope you don’t mind?’
‘And if I did?’
He glanced at her, flashed a smile. ‘I’d have to change your mind.’
‘Oh, God,’ she groaned, instantly tight and hot with longing, the undeniable power of his soft intimidation frightening – and recklessly compelling. ‘How do you do it? I’ve never been like this before – insatiable, constantly horny, seriously oversexed.’
‘There’s no such thing as oversexed.’
Her brows shot up. ‘For you maybe.’
He smiled. ‘Then I can teach you. But not right now.’ There were very few people in his life he chose to please, but Melanie had always been at the top of his list. ‘We gotta get out of here in the next few minutes.’ Squatting between her legs with the effortless ease of killer muscles in perfect harmony, he wiped h
er sex with a washcloth, threw the wet cloth into the bathroom, then slipped on a scrap of green lace that functioned as panties, and a pair of black skinny, cropped-leg jeans. That she was still in a minor trance didn’t deter him; he lifted her effortlessly, zipped and buttoned, said, ‘Perfect,’ once, softly, giving her a pat on her knee, then stood and disappeared into the closet.
‘Open your eyes, babe.’
Jeez, had she dozed off? Although after countless orgasms in bed and her recent one for the road, maybe she had an excuse.
A calm, measured look. ‘Do you want coffee?’
She shook her head, forced herself into the present. ‘I’ll have a rum and coke later. If your sister has rum.’
‘I’m sure she does. So?’ Dominic held up two pairs of shoes. ‘You choose.’
She smiled. ‘Really? You think I can handle it?’
He grinned. ‘A limited choice, baby. Your fashion sense is appalling.’
‘I believe I’ve said this before. I don’t care. Either one.’
‘These then.’ He swung a pair of black suede ankle-strap shoes with gold studs down the chunky heels. ‘Unless you’d rather not wear heels.’
‘Those are fucking high.’
‘Depends how much you drink.’
She lifted her brows.
‘Something less elevated then.’ He dropped the ankle-strap shoes, kneeled at her feet and slipped on a pair of black glittery ballet flats. ‘These are safer. As I recall in Amsterdam, you weren’t too steady in spike heels.’ Smoothly coming to his feet, he took her hands and pulled her up.
She looked up and grinned. ‘Maybe I was just hitting on you.’
‘Lucky me.’ He pulled some earrings out of his pocket – small gold hoops with single emerald tear drops. He’d told his jeweller to keep it simple.
‘I probably was hitting on you,’ she conceded. ‘Subconsciously at least.’
‘While I was fully conscious of wanting to nail you on the spot.’ He slipped on one earring since he hadn’t gotten any grief.
‘That would have raised a few eyebrows.’
‘I doubt it. I pay their salaries.’ He slipped on the other earring.
‘Whoa … two things. First, not an image I want in my head. And second, don’t do that I’m-master-of-the-universe crap. It pisses me off.’
‘Naturally, I apologize.’
She gave him a squinty-eyed look. ‘As if.’
He shook his head. ‘Haven’t you noticed yet, babe? My recent freak-out aside, I pretty much do whatever you want. You’re calling the shots. I’m just here to serve and assist.’ He held out his hand. ‘We really have to go. I’ll introduce you to the part of my family I care about. You OK with your hair? Need a brush?’
‘You tell me.’
‘Nah, that FF look is hot.’
‘FF?’
He smiled. ‘Freshly fucked.’
‘And you’re saying it’s OK in public?’
‘We call it messy curls or artful disarray in public. You’re good. Let me get you a jacket. It’s trying to rain again tonight.’
She clamped her mouth shut when he walked out of his closet with a flower-print, short, swingy, silk raincoat, the background green, multicoloured flowers in every colour of the rainbow lighting up the fabric – the kind of making-a-statement raincoat you only saw on Paris runways.
‘Arms out, babe. Ah … perfect. Now that’s a good fit,’ he said calmly, as if none of the other clothes had fit. ‘Jeez, have you shrunk?’ He sliced the air above her head, then drew the edge of his hand to his chest. ‘Must be the shoes.’ He grinned. ‘Stay close. I’m going to have to keep you from being trampled tonight.’
It was impossible to be angry with him. He was just too goddamn nice, not to mention beautiful and killer hot and, of course, sexually gifted. Why was she even putting up a fight? All too soon, she’d be missing him. So smell the roses while you can.
‘Do you like the coat?’
He was smiling at her. ‘It’s perfect. Thanks.’
‘Melanie’s going to love you, baby. Come on.’ He grabbed her hand. ‘I can hardly wait to show you off.’
She put up her hand. ‘I’m not your newest toy. You know that, right?’
‘Jesus, I don’t want you to be.’ His voice dropped low. ‘I just want you to be mine.’
Something in his voice at the end made her nervous. ‘No scenes, OK?’
Mild puzzlement. ‘As in?’
‘As in you getting hot about the men I talked to in Hong Kong.’
‘Then don’t talk to other men.’ A blunt, uncompromising command.
She raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re kidding.’
Seeing the flush flood her cheeks, he quickly rectified his error. ‘I was out of line. Sorry.’ He blew out a small breath. ‘I’m just so fucking jealous. I wish I weren’t. But’ – he smiled faintly – ‘since I’m a control freak, I should be able to exercise a little self-control. So no scenes. I promise.’
Sometimes you caught a glimpse of the boy inside the mighty, overachieving, hard-ass global magnate. ‘Thanks,’ Kate said. ‘I appreciate your understanding. And I’d rather be with you than anyone else, so there. We’re both on the same page.’
The warmth in his eyes brought a lump to her throat.
He dipped his head and lightly touched her lips. ‘It feels as though all the stars are aligned tonight,’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘The first time ever for me.’ He raised his head and smiled. ‘Crazy, hey?’
‘Everything we do is crazy.’ Aware of the shift in his tone, she was careful to keep her voice light. ‘Why stop now?’
‘Right. Fuck, I need a drink. How about you?’
‘Anytime, dude. Didn’t you read my centrefold? Loves puppies, walks on the beach and drinking.’
He laughed. ‘That must be why we get along. Same centrefold likes.’
‘And the sex.’
‘Oh, yeah. I never forget that.’
They left Dominic’s home and walked outside to the sidewalk where he pulled her to a stop. ‘Just a minute,’ he murmured.
A second later, Leo, Danny and two other men came out of the shadows of the adjacent yard, the houses only separated by their driveways.
Kate glanced up at Dominic. ‘They stay next door?’
‘I like my privacy.’
‘Is security really necessary?’
‘It’s just a precaution.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Just what I said. Evening, guys. How’s everyone?’
After greetings were exchanged, Leo and Danny took up positions in front of them, the other two men fell in behind. Taking Kate’s hand in his, Dominic started walking east.
‘You have to explain these four guys to me,’ she hissed.
‘There’s nothing to explain. I generally travel with security.’
‘There wasn’t anyone with us in Hong Kong or Singapore.’
‘We’re only walking a block tonight. It’s kinda hard for them to stay out of sight.’
‘That’s it?’
‘That’s all there is to it. There’s Melanie’s place up ahead,’ he said, wanting to shut down this conversation. ‘Don’t feel as though you have to remember all the children’s names. They don’t care.’
CHAPTER 16
When they reached Melanie’s, Dominic and Kate went inside while the security crew checked out the perimeter of the house before coming in.
Dominic hung up Kate’s coat in the entrance hall closet, picked up a shopping bag that had been brought down from his house and nodded in the direction of distant voices. ‘We’ll find them in the kitchen. Family birthdays at Melanie’s are pizza since the kids got old enough to holler. It’s good pizza, though. But save some room. The adult party has a better menu.’
When they reached the large kitchen at the back of the house, a wild whoop went up the moment they appeared in the archway. And a second later a wave of screaming young children powered towards them.
&
nbsp; ‘Hey, hey, watch it, guys,’ Dominic warned. ‘I have a guest tonight. Don’t knock her over.’
All but the youngest girl came to a skidding stop in time. The little blonde toddler with curly hair grabbed Dominic’s leg and tried to climb up, shrieking, ‘Unka Nicky, Unka Nicky, hold me!’
Dropping the shopping bag, he swung her up in his arms and gave her a kiss on her chubby cheek. ‘Ummm … peanut butter.’
‘We got a puppy! We got a puppy!’ The little girl banged on his shoulder with her half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich. ‘Wanna see?’
‘Give me a sec, sweetie. Eat your sandwich. I want to introduce my girlfriend.’
By this time, Melanie and Matt had come up, along with a stout, five-foot-nothing older woman who was smiling broadly enough for her kohled eyes to crinkle at the corners. With Birkenstocks on her feet, tie-dyed pyjama pants and brilliant henna-coloured hair, she was head to toe a member of the hippie generation.
‘Hi, Mrs B.’ Dominic moved forward to kiss her cheek, holding the sandwich-wielding toddler well away. ‘Are you keeping the ship running smoothly?’
‘Of course.’ She squinted at him with her snappy black eyes as he stepped back. ‘Are you still being a bad boy?’
‘Uh-uh. I’ve got myself a girl. She’s keeping me in line.’ He took Kate’s hand. ‘Katherine, this is Mrs B. She’s been helping around here for … what?’
‘Seventeen years. Pleased to meet you, Miss Katherine. You’ve got your hands full with him, I’ll tell you that.’
‘I’ve noticed.’ Kate glanced up at Dominic, her gaze mischievous. ‘We’re working on his manners.’
The housekeeper gave Dominic an approving smile. ‘She’s not afraid of you, Nicky. That’s good.’
Dominic dropped his head and gave her a quick grin. ‘I’m afraid of her, Mrs B. Katherine’s one tough babe.’
‘It’s about time you’re afraid of someone.’ She surveyed him with an examining gaze as good as any psy-ops interrogator’s. ‘Don’t want you to think you really do own the world.’
‘As long as I have you to slap some sense into me, that won’t happen.’
‘Good thing I’m here then.’ Her delivery was blunt, but she looked at him with tenderness.
