by Jet, M
"I did it, Dominique, if I recall correctly."
The din of the diner happening around them seemed to fade in her mind as everything else on earth disappeared. All she could think of right then was him. She refused to let him slip away again. Refused.
"Like I said, vulnerable. I took advantage of you at a weak moment."
Mary Jane leaned her elbows down on the counter, bringing them face to face. "Dominique, I mourn the loss of my husband. But, I loved you first."
His eyes shot up to meet hers.
"I don't regret that night, and I pray there will be many more. And I don't give a damn what anybody may think about it."
Desire smoldered in his eyes and he stared at her so long that a grouchy customer finally had to break the spell by banging his empty coffee cup on the table. Mary Jane straightened and giggled shyly.
Dominique dropped enough on the counter to cover his coffee and tip, and stood. He gave her a quick nod. "Then call me when you're ready," he said, sliding his card under his coffee cup.
He turned and swaggered out the door.
Chapter 10
Outside of chatting with him each day in the diner, and his morning ritual of appearing outside to let her walk in washed in the safe glow of his cruiser's headlights, she didn't contact him again for over a week.
Her parents were still doting on her and the kids daily, and on a Saturday afternoon they asked to take the kids overnight and for the day Sunday. To give her some time to herself. She packed them a bag, kissed her babies goodbye, and let them leave with her mom and dad.
She was on the phone in minutes.
"Flame," came his brief answer to her call.
"Hi, Dominique," she said shyly.
"Mary Jane!" She could hear the smile in his voice.
A brazen heat blazed through her and she decided to come straight to the point. "I'd like some company this evening if you're free."
"I am," he said in a voice that dripped like honey.
"Good," she said.
"Would you like me to take you out, Mary Jane?" he asked.
She honestly hadn't thought about it. She paused to contemplate if she was really ready to handle the fall out of the small town gossip network once they found out she was out with another man less than two weeks after her husband's death.
"Let's just see where the evening takes us, OK?"
"OK, sure. Let me get a sitter for the boys and grab a shower and then I'll be over, sound good?"
She grinned. "Sounds wonderful."
***
An hour later found her standing before her bedroom full length mirror studying her reflection. Her shining blonde hair fell in ringlets to her waist. She'd applied smoky makeup to accentuate her big sad blue eyes. Freckles splayed becomingly across her tanned face, and full lips had been colored a shimmering pink. She wore a short, filmy dress; black with colorful tropical flowers on it, and dipping low over the rise of her cleavage.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd looked like this and scarcely recognized herself. In fact, she didn't think she'd ever looked like this. She'd never dressed for love. She'd dressed for obligation and keeping up appearances. She'd dressed to please a man in hopes that he would behave appropriately in return. At times, she'd dressed for lust, for a good looking man with whom she'd shared a bed, and a tumultuous life. But never for love. Tears sparkled in her eyes as she wished that this is how it would've been all along. And then his knock came at the door.
Dominique presented just as stunning a portrait as Mary Jane. He was dressed head to toe in black. Black trousers, perfectly fitted. Black button down shirt, tucked in neatly, and shiny black shoes. Her breath caught in her throat as she set eyes on him. They looked fantastic, and neither of them even cared if they left the house. With a shaking hand, she pushed open the screen door and let him in.
Once inside, he stepped to her. He didn't touch her, but his body was milometers from the shallow rise and fall of her chest, and his lips were close enough to hers that she felt his hot breath. He stood there for a moment letting the tension build to meltdown imminent levels and then he grabbed her.
She gasped as he owned her with a kiss and pulled her body tightly against him. She found his hands unbelievably hard and strong as he ran them up the small of her back. His fingers snaked under her hair, laced there at the top of her neck, and pulled her head back gently but firmly. He moved his lips down her jaw and neck as he controlled her with his hand in her hair. She moaned softly.
"Yes?" he whispered.
"Yes."
"Yes… Please?"
"Please! Please, oh please," she cried. Her husky voice trembled.
She felt his erection hard against her and craved it. She fumbled with clumsy shaking hands, but he grabbed her by her wrists.
"You do what I say, Mary Jane," he said darkly.
She nodded, panting with her desire. She wanted whatever he wanted. She would give him anything.
He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her to the floor, onto her knees. She knelt before him, trembling from head to toe, and he reached down to place a finger beneath her chin and tip her head up to meet her sparkling eyes.
"Your dress is beautiful, Mary Jane. Take it off."
A jolt of electric energy shot through her. She reached to untie the strap behind her neck and the flimsy dress fell easily into a pool around her knees on the floor. She noted his sharp intake of breath when he saw she wore neither bra nor underwear.
"Good girl," he said smiling.
The direction this encounter was taking wasn't one she'd ever taken before. But it felt incredibly appealing and right to her. She felt desperate to give him whatever pleased him and welcomed whatever way he chose to please her.
Incredibly slowly, carefully calculating every move as he watched her, Dominique unfastened his belt and slacks. Apparently not ready to fully reveal himself to her, he instead just freed his long hard cock from the silky folds of his black boxers. She regarded it with wide eyes and could barely even catch a breath.
"Touch yourself," he demanded quietly.
She didn't hesitate to reach between her legs and find her clit. She dampened her fingers with her body's own dripping desire and began massaging her sweetest spot. She shut her eyes at the sensation but he reminded her to look at him and she complied.
"Do what feels best, Mary Jane. Let me see you," he seethed as she rubbed slowly at first then more frantically. With her other hand she rubbed and tweaked her own nipples and massaged her breasts. She glanced away from his eyes only long enough to see the throb of his stony desire no further from her lips than a lick.
"God, yes," he hissed between clenched teeth. He placed his hand behind her head and held his cock with the other. "Suck it," he demanded barely above a whisper. She moaned happily as she enthusiastically closed her warm mouth over her cock.
She wanted to touch him, but he had to remind her to keep touching herself. He tipped her head back and gently worked his cock as far as it would go against the back of her throat.
"Relax. Breathe slowly," he instructed, never taking his eyes off her eyes. "Open to me. Let me in."
He was incredibly slow and patient as he coaxed her throat open, little by little despite the fact she felt him grow harder than seemed possible in her mouth. Though he was the picture of calm, she could sense he was close to exploding. His control set her on fire and she could feel more wetness spilling over her own fingers.
It had never before been something she could do, but she enveloped him deep in her throat. The feeling of it aroused in her both fear, and intense eroticism. She loved him. She craved him. He was her obsession.
She began to whimper with her mouth full of him as she felt orgasm rapidly approach and suddenly he pulled out of her mouth. He made short work of lifting her off the floor and repositioning her body. He placed her face down on the arm of the couch, positioning one of her feet firmly on the floor, and the other foot buried in the couc
h cushions. She felt him step back and stole a glance over her shoulder to find him studying her wide open vulnerability.
"Beautiful," he murmured, glancing into her eyes. He traced a finger delicately around the opening to her pussy and she shuddered feeling the waves return again.
Taking his time, he took a turn to kneel. "Close your eyes," he demanded this time and she did as she was told. "Just feel. Don't look."
She felt him work one finger into her and begin manipulating her g-spot. Then another finger wriggled in to her tightness and the two fingers rubbed and teased. Next she felt his tongue join the dance, lapping luxuriously at her clit.
She drew a jagged breath, fighting the urge to attempt to close her legs, at least a little. She knew he wanted her open.
"Not yet," he warned. "Don’t come yet, my love."
She wanted to obey him. But she was dangerously close. Just as the waves nearly crashed, he abruptly pulled his fingers out and his tongue away. The promise of orgasm subsided once more but not for long as he finally gave her what she'd truly been waiting for.
Dominique plunged his cock into her. He moved slowly at first and began tantalizing her orgasm once more, inviting it back.
"Tell me you like this," he whispered.
"I love this," she moaned.
"Tell me what you want," he demanded.
She shuddered. "Fuck me."
"What, Mary Jane?" he asked teasingly.
"Fuck me. Fuck me, please!"
"Mmmmm… That's right." He tangled his fingers in her hair once again and pulled her head back. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to control. To dominate.
He rammed into her, jarring her forward. The textured upholstery of the couch's arm toyed with her nipples and her clit. "Yes," she begged.
"Yes? Hard?" he asked, giving her another devastating thrust.
"YES! HARD!"
He pounded relentlessly against her, his own breath becoming rapid and shallow. Despite the intense friction, she felt him become unbelievably hard and big inside her.
"Come now," he demanded urgently.
She let her muscles relax then and in a fraction of a second the warmth flooded her. She screamed as he hammered straight through his own orgasm.
***
She lay cradled in his arms in her bed after hours of intense love making. Both of them were still, naked, and spent. She traced a finger through the thick of black hair on his chest and inhaled the intoxicating scent of him. He seemed different at that moment. Different than he normally was, and definitely different then the role he played of domineering lover. He was sleepy, gentle, and happy.
"So," she said giggling. "I guess you have an authority complex… Officer."
He didn't laugh at her joke or her making light of his extremely disciplined love making. But he did continue to stroke her arm tenderly as he held her. "It appeared to me that you liked it."
Her cheeks flushed, no longer feeling like a brazen sex kitten. "Of course," she admitted shyly.
She peeked at his face and saw his eyes remain trained on the ceiling. Or seeming so, though the room was dark and he probably couldn't see anything in particular. He didn't say anything for so long she began to fear she had upset him.
"I just like what I like, Mary Jane," he finally explained.
She nodded against his chest. "I like what you like too, Dominique."
"Do you?" he wondered. "Can you give me all that I need, Mary Jane?" His voice had taken on a far off, mysterious quality. She shivered, as she had many times in the past over his powerful intensity.
"I can try," she whispered.
Moments later he propped himself up on an elbow. "You hungry? Let's go get a bite to eat. How about it?"
***
It was ten o'clock at night, but they'd been otherwise occupied at dinner time. So they decided to make a ten mile drive out to the freeway interchange and visit one of the all night truck stops for a late night meal.
She enjoyed the trip in his black Lincoln. It was spotless inside and out, and also black in and out. Though she knew two little boys often traveled in this car, it smelled of Dominique's cologne. Funny, she thought, a kid vehicle that doesn't smell like soggy animal crackers. She felt smooth and pampered in his car.
The truck stop restaurant was surprisingly busy for as late as it was. She couldn't help but peak around to see if she knew anybody present. Anxiety crept in over being spotted on a date. She threw a glance at Dominique and then a feeling of incredible love overwhelmed her to the point of bringing tears to her eyes.
She had many regrets about Zander. She knew she should never have married him. She hadn't loved him and that hadn't changed over time. Maybe he knew that. Maybe if she hadn't agreed to marry him, he would've had a happier life and would still be alive. His death hurt her deeply, but Dominique represented what her life should've been all along. She was utterly and irrevocably in love with him, and she made the decision right then to ignore whatever rumors would undoubtedly circulate.
As they approached a booth, Dominique paused and turned to her.
"Hey there," he said softly. "What's wrong?"
She stared into his eyes, unable to speak for a moment. "I… Dominique… I love you."
His face broke into a gorgeous smile and he pulled her to him for a long kiss. When he broke away from the kiss, he placed his lips gently on her temple. "I love you too, Mary Jane. It's always been you."
They sat cuddled on one side of a booth and feasted on a shared dish of cheesy French fries.
Chapter 11
"What could you be thinking?"
Mary Jane sat at her mother's kitchen table the following evening. Someone had spotted her with Dominique in the truck stop, and in true Elwood style, had already informed her mother.
"What, Mom? What's the problem?" Mary Jane asked, trying to keep the irritation from her voice.
Marsha put down the knife she was using to slice an onion and turned to face her daughter. "Mary Jane, your husband just died."
A lump formed in her throat. "Yes, Mom, I'm aware of that," she choked.
Her mom glared angrily at her and she had to look away from the scrutiny.
"Was this going on before Zander died?" Marsha asked.
Mary Jane gasped and her cheeks reddened. "No Mother! Of course not!" She struggled against the tears that pricked her eyes.
"So what then, is Officer Flame some sort of feel better remedy for you?"
"Mom! No! I love Dominique."
Her mother groaned. "You love him, but you were not having an affair with him?"
The tears spilled and she could not stop them. She didn't want to feel ashamed of this thing she'd wait for so long. "I've known him since I was eighteen, Mom. But there was never anything between us until now."
She wilted under her mother's lengthy glare. "You know, Mary Jane, your father and I weren't necessarily huge fans of Zander's all the time… But his memory deserves a little better than this."
Without makeup, Mary Jane knew the remnant of her last encounter with her husband was still faintly visible on her face. She stood up and turned that side of her face to her mom and pointed at it. "Do you see this, Mom? I know that you do. I know you saw it when it was fresh too. This is what my life with Zander had boiled down to. We were on the way to the end. I'm devastated that my children lost their father, but as far as our marriage… It was as good as over."
After forcing out her explanation, she doubled over in retching sobs.
Marsha pulled Mary Jane into her arms and stroked her hair and back. "OK, baby. OK. I'm sorry. I'll support you. Shhhh. I'm sorry, baby girl. Don't cry."
***
Dominique and Mary Jane spent as much time as possible together without letting their children know about the relationship. They fully intended to tell the kids and let them meet one another, but both agreed Mary Jane's children should have more time to grieve and adjust before introducing Dominique.
Their arrangement left little priv
ate time and they became creative about lovemaking escapades. Sometimes it was early in the morning before a work shift. Sometimes it was in the bathroom of the diner. Incredibly fast. Quiet. And erotic. She often teased him that they did things together that he would arrest other people for. When she said that, he never answered with anything but a slight smile.
By the time three months had passed since Zander's death, and fall had decidedly set in, Mary Jane's finances had become exceedingly tight. She sat at the table late one night going over bills and crunching numbers. Sighing, she massaged her temples and closed her eyes. Her house was simply too expensive. She wasn't going to make it. She would have to downsize. She contemplated getting a small apartment, or asking her parents if she and the kids could stay with them for a while to get on her feet.
Her phone rang and snapped her out of her worries.
"Hey," she said on answer.
"Hey, love," Dominique said. "Thought I'd call and tell you goodnight. I just got the boys down, I'm going to hit the hey."
"Alright, baby. Goodnight."
"Hey, you. What's wrong?"
She'd thought she'd effectively disguised any worry in her voice. However, he seemed to have an open line of communication straight to her soul. "Nothing, baby. Don't worry about me."
"Stop. Don't lie to me, Mary Jane. Tell me what's the matter."
"Honestly, it's not that big a deal. Just doing bills and such, money's tight."
There was a pause before he spoke. "Zander didn't have life insurance?"
Mary Jane almost chuckled. "Um, no. He was not that man, Dominique. There was nothing. No insurance, no savings."
He fell quiet again. She thought she detected a slight quickening of his breath. Knowing him as she did, she knew this made him angry.
"Dom," she continued. "Seriously, it's not that big a deal. We have options. I can borrow money from my parents for a deposit on a smaller apartment, or we can stay with my parents so I can save up for a while. Either way is perfectly fine, OK?"
"Move in with us."
It was Mary Jane's turn to be speechless. It was her dream. Had always been her dream, to lay her head next to his every night. Literally nothing could make her happier. Her children were adjusting well and she knew they would accept and love Dominque. Their relationship was big talk around the gossip circuit, but people seemed to accept it and she'd experienced very little grief over it.
