by Tee O'Fallon
Losing her parents had been devastating enough, but she’d never been forced to experience what must have been sheer horror for Dom—seeing someone he loved bloody and battered. As a teenager she’d been shielded from that brutal ugliness. Her grandparents had identified her parents’ bodies, and it had been a closed-casket funeral. Dom had been forced to bury Anika’s remains and leave her behind in the desert.
Tears filled his eyes as he slowly knelt in front of her and wrapped his arms around her legs. When he looked up, his cheeks were wet. “I’ll never leave you again,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I’m home. You’re my home.” He pressed the side of his head to her belly.
Numb with shock, she couldn’t move, couldn’t utter a word. This was the biggest decision of her life. Take that giant leap and give herself to him, or risk never being whole. Because without him she would remain fractured, with no hope of ever fitting back together.
Several seconds ticked by, then she lifted her hand to his head and stroked his soft, wavy hair. He inhaled deeply, almost as if in relief, then let out a long, heavy sigh. When she caressed his cheek, he turned his head into the palm of her hand, kissing it tenderly, sending shivers up her arm.
“Dom.” She paused as her gaze roved the contours of his face. “I love you.”
He smiled up at her, relief obvious on his handsome face. “I was hoping you’d get around to saying that again.”
His lips were warm against her cool skin as he began kissing his way up the underside of her forearm, grazing her rib cage and breast with his chin before standing to gaze down at her with unabashed heat.
He clasped her face in his hands and gave her the most earth-shattering kiss she could ever imagine. Slow. Hot. Wet. They tumbled to the bed, disrupting Taz, who jumped off and scampered away.
Daisy’s clothes disappeared, peeled off hastily and dropped to the floor. Dom tore off his shirt first, then his jeans and tight Jockey shorts. Not for the first time she was overwhelmed by his incredible physical beauty. But beneath all that strength and power was also a man of the greatest character she’d ever known. A soldier and law enforcement officer born to serve and protect. A man with unexpected kindness, gentleness. One who had suffered great loss but had found love again. With her.
The mattress shifted as he leaned over her, his delicious clean, fresh scent settling inside her lungs. She gazed up into the clearest, bluest eyes. Windows to a beautiful soul. Levering onto his forearms, he leaned down to kiss her, but she touched her fingers to his lips, stopping him.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Tell me this is real,” she whispered. “Tell me again so I know I’m not dreaming.”
The look in his eyes was soft and gentle, yet fierce in its intensity. “I. Love. You. Always.” The smile he gave her was hesitant, as if he was waiting for something. Reassurance, she realized, and she clasped his face in her hands, pulling him down to her.
His kiss was gentle, his tongue stroking expertly with hers. As he deepened the kiss, a passionate longing took hold inside her, and her body thrummed with need.
She let out a little moan as he dropped languid kisses along her neck and breasts, then flicking and teasing her nipple into a hardened peak with his tongue, and doing the same with his fingers to her other nipple. She cupped the back of his head, holding him to her breast, arching into his mouth. The ache inside her grew, blossoming urgently into a beautiful flower desperate for water. Desperate for him.
With a deep, guttural groan he rose and kissed her again on the mouth. This time the tempo was faster, and she kissed him back with everything she had, pulling him on top of her, loving his weight and the feel of his body pressing against hers. She ran her hands down the steely hardness of his back, gripping his ass, urging him to enter her before she burned up like a comet entering the atmosphere.
He grasped her thigh, hiking her knee up, then thrust inside her, filling her so completely she uttered a throaty moan. She locked her other leg around the back of his thigh and met his thrusts, their bodies merging again and again until she was writhing against him.
“Please,” she whispered, arching her neck, pushing her breasts against his chest. His lips were hot beneath her ear, sending tingly shivers to her core. The tightness became unbearable, and her breaths came harder, her pulse racing as he rocked into her. She clung to him, completely mindless as the convulsions slammed into her, and she cried out his name again and again.
Dom’s last thrusts were powerful, shoving her up the mattress as he came inside her. “Daisy. Oh, sweet Jesus.”
Still pressing down on her, he kissed her neck once more, then her mouth, her chin, and her eyes. When their gazes met, his love shined with such honesty, it took her breath away.
For the third time since the day they’d met, Daisy fell in love with the same man.
…
Through the sheer curtains, Dom watched the remnants of the city’s pink sunset filter into the bedroom. True to her nature, Daisy had fallen into a deep sleep with her arm thrown over his chest and her head snuggled against his neck. The flowery scent he inhaled was as much a part of her as her flower shop.
They’d gotten so hot after a second round of love-making they both lay naked on top of the covers. The sleekness of her smooth back and the rounded curves of her buttocks drew his attention. There wasn’t one part of her that he didn’t love to touch or taste or kiss, but what he loved most was her beautiful heart and her fiery spirit. She’d never take shit from him, and he loved that, too.
Being careful not to wake her, he lovingly skimmed his fingers over her shoulder, reveling in the softness. It still amazed him that after the hell she’d lived through as a child, then what he’d put her through—emotional and physical—she still loved him. She’d been the one for him all along. The only one who could bring him back from the dead and get his heart going again. Emotional CPR. He’d needed it in spades.
Making love with her both humbled and empowered him, and coming inside her was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever experienced. He was more alive than he’d been in a very, very long time. With her, he realized, he was a better man.
On the floor beside the bed, Taz lay curled into a little black ball on top of his jeans. He’d actually had a condom tucked into the wallet in his rear pants pocket, although he hadn’t wanted to use it. Because he wanted a family. With Daisy.
He glanced at the closed drawer of the bedside table. Inside was a blue velvet box he’d stashed there before falling asleep on her bed. When he’d woken to find her watching him, the shocked then wary look on her face had scared him to death. For a minute there, he’d nearly broken out in a cold sweat for fear that she wouldn’t take him back. She didn’t know it, but he would have groveled at her feet for the rest of his life if she hadn’t. He ached for her that badly.
Reaching out, he opened the drawer and pulled out the box. In the event he really had gotten Daisy pregnant, he fully intended to make an honest woman of her.
“Sweetheart.” He stroked the top of her head. “Wake up. I want to ask you something.”
“What?” she murmured against his chest.
His gut tightened with apprehension, and he took a deep breath. Even though she’d said she loved him, he took nothing for granted. There was every chance she’d need time to think about it, or flat-out say no.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. Whiskey-colored eyes stared at him. Her mouth gaped at the sight of the box in his hand. “What did you say?”
He knelt on the floor beside the bed. After opening the lid, he held the diamond-studded engagement ring out to her, and with his heart thudding in his chest, repeated his question. “Will you marry me?”
She clamped her mouth shut. Her lips trembled, and she nodded. Slowly at first, then more vigorously. “Yes,” she whispered, smiling as the most beautiful tears ran down her cheeks. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”
He tugged the ring f
rom its velvet cushion, then took her left hand in his. He slipped the ring onto her finger and kissed it. When he lifted his gaze to hers he saw everything he needed reflected in the depths of her eyes. Love. And his future.
His gut tightened at the overwhelming emotion welling inside him. He couldn’t believe this exquisite beauty—the woman of his dreams—had agreed to be his. “You’re everything to me. And I want to be everything to you. I swear I’ll make you happy.”
“You already have,” she said in a trembling voice, then reached out to stroke his cheek, urging him back onto the bed.
As he lowered her to the mattress he entered her, thrusting deeply until she clung to him, crying out his name. And afterward, as he lowered his head to her chest, the wetness on his cheeks was his own.
No longer were either of them disavowed. No longer would either of them be alone. Because they had each other.
Now and forever.
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Acknowledgments
As always, I’d like to thank my incredible critique partners, MK Mancos, Cheyenne McCray, and Kayla Gray. And my editor, Karen Grove—thank you for your patience this past year. Last but not least, a big shout-out to my publicist, Riki Cleveland, for putting up with all my inane questions.
About the Author
Tee O’Fallon has been a federal agent for twenty-three years, giving her hands-on experience in the field of law enforcement that she combines with her love of romantic suspense. Tee’s job affords her the unique opportunity to work with the heroic and sexy men in law enforcement on a daily basis. For Tee, research is the easy part!
Besides writing, she loves cooking, gardening, chocolate, lychee martinis, and all things canine.
Tee is the author of the NYPD Blue & Gold Series: Burnout, Blood Money, and Disavowed. Visit www.teeofallon.com to sign up for newsletters and keep tabs on Tee’s latest releases, including her next novel, Lock ’N’ Load, the first of her brand-new Federal K-9 romantic suspense series.
Discover the NYPD Blue & Gold series…
Burnout
Blood Money
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