by Marcia James
Dalton turned at the deep voice and spotted a red-haired man he’d first seen eating with Domino in a Taco Bell. What had he said? Dom’s cop? There was something nice about the words that Dalton didn’t want to examine at that moment.
“Name’s Meyers. We’d like you to accompany us to answer a few questions. We’re taking these SOBs to Metro PD, since it’s your jurisdiction.” The large man’s eyes lowered to Dalton’s hands, which were red with blood. “I’ve got a first-aid kit in the car. Or we can drop you off at the hospital.”
“The kit will be fine,” Dalton answered. “And I’d like to borrow your cell phone and call my captain. He’ll want to have Clyde Salvi, the club’s manager, picked up as well.”
Meyers nodded and led the way to his car. Quickly, Dalton used alcohol pads to clean his cut palm as he thought about the upcoming hours. He’d answer the DEA’s questions. He owed them that much. And he’d convince Captain Bennett to let him take part in the questioning of Salvi and his hitmen. But he doubted anyone as street-smart and connected as Salvi would talk without a lawyer present. The Metro PD had the club manager dead to rights on Dalton’s kidnapping but would they be able to prove he’d killed Jason?
Dalton placed a sterile pad on his wound and wrapped first-aid gauze around the hand to hold the pad in place. His clothes were covered with grease, sweat and blood, but at least his hands were clean. Hell, at least he was alive. And he knew who he had to thank for that.
Yeah, he’d talk to the DEA and help with the interrogation. But then, after a quick shower and a change of clothes, he planned to look up Agent Dominique Petracelli and get some answers of his own.
* * * * *
Domino whipped her VW into her driveway, threw it into Park and killed the engine. She was too impatient to wait for her ancient garage door to open so she left the car where it was. She had to know if Dalton was safe. It’d been hours since he’d been taken from the club. While she’d been topping submissives, he might have been hurt or worse. On her way home, Dom had dialed Meyers’ cell phone repeatedly with no success. It was just like her partner to leave her hanging.
Grabbing her coat and purse, Dom slipped out of the car and hurried up the sidewalk toward her house. Maybe she could reach her boss at home. Sam Lowery would’ve been given a status report. Dalton had to be alive. Her mind refused to consider the alternative.
The freezing temperature cut through the silk of her dominatrix outfit but she’d been too worried to change before leaving work. Domino pulled her keys out of her purse, blaming her trembling fingers on the cold and not her anxiety over Dalton. She took the front steps two at a time to her wraparound porch, her attention on getting inside and making the call. She slid her key into the lock and opened the door.
A callused hand covered her mouth and she was jerked back against a steel-hard body. Adrenaline shot through her as she raised the keys to rake them across her assailant’s face.
“It’s me, dammit!” The hoarse words sounded exasperated.
Domino’s pulse leapt as the musky scent of his aftershave confirmed his identity. Dalton! Her body went slack with relief, allowing him to push her through the open door into her house. Once inside, he released her to close and lock the door. She spun to face the man she’d feared was dead, the man who had haunted her dreams for weeks.
“Thank God.” Dom launched herself into his arms, which after a slight hesitation wrapped firmly around her. Dalton felt so right. After a moment, she raised her head to see his smiling face. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Well, my balls are a little bruised, courtesy of Mistress Bella.” He chuckled at her embarrassed flush. “But thanks to your switchblade, I had my hands and feet free by the time those goons reached the river. And that little tracking device brought the cavalry. The DEA took Joey and Hobart into custody before they could even open the trunk. I guess I owe you one, Agent Petracelli.”
Dom looked into his intense eyes and thought of the paybacks he owed her for the sessions with Mistress Bella. Not sure what to say, she tried to escape his embrace.
“No, you don’t.” Dalton tightened his arms to keep her clasped against his body. “I like you right where you are.”
“Uh, what about Salvi?” she asked, attempting some emotional distance through conversation.
“He was arrested at his house.” Dalton cut off her next question. “I promise to give you all the details later. You see, Dominique, I haven’t thanked you properly yet for saving my life.” The way he pronounced her name sent a shiver through her. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do since the first time I saw you…”
Dom realized his intent a second before his mouth took hers in a hard, punishing kiss. God, yes. His sexual hunger mirrored her own and she welcomed it. She pressed against him, arching to get closer still. Dalton’s arms tightened almost painfully around her body and his lips bruised hers.
She gasped and his tongue drove into her mouth, searching out and tangling with hers. Dom splayed her fingers through his hair and held on as she returned his kiss. For an eternity they warred for dominance, each fighting to inflame the other. Finally the need for oxygen broke them apart and she looked into eyes so filled with desire they were midnight blue.
“Tonight we’ll do things my way,” Dalton warned, mocking Mistress Bella’s words. “If you’re not up to the challenge, say so now and I’ll leave.” He loomed over her, his posture menacing. “Because once we start, there’ll be no yellow light, red light, safe-word crap. Understand?”
Dom licked her dry lips and nodded, a shudder of sexual anticipation racing through her body.
Dalton’s gaze flickered to her mouth before returning to her eyes. “If I stay, I’ll explore every inch of your body and get to know you in ways you’ve never dreamed before. Do you want me, Domino?”
Fighting down the frisson of fear his words inspired, she lifted her chin. “Yes,” she said in a firm voice. Then the air whooshed out of her lungs as Dalton threw her over his shoulder in a firefighter’s lift. “Is this necessary?” she demanded, sounding squeaky to her own ears.
“Yes.” His voice rumbled in his chest, the vibrations tickling her breasts as she hung upside down against his back. “Which way to your bedroom?”
“Neanderthal,” she muttered. But she slid her hand around the front of his body and pointed to the hallway on the right.
“It feels good to act the caveman after all those weeks as a wimp,” he growled. Giving her a swat on her butt, he headed toward the back of her house.
A bark brought him up short. Domino pushed herself upward far enough to see Smokey standing in the archway to the living room. His teeth were bared and he looked as fierce as a thirteen-pound dog could look.
“What type of mutant rat-dog is that?” Dalton asked.
“He’s a Chinese Crested and a highly trained DEA drug dog,” Dom answered in defensive of her canine partner.
“Well, call off the little ankle biter unless you want him to follow us to bed.” Dalton’s tone was amused. “I’m not an exhibitionist and I doubt you want an audience.”
Domino gulped and did as requested. “Smokey, sit. Stay.”
The dog obeyed with a few low yips that resembled bad-tempered grumbling. Dalton continued down the hall. More than gravity caused the blood to rush to Dom’s face as he carried her into her bedroom. Unlike the contemporary look of the rest of the house, her bedroom was decorated in frilly florals, creating a romantic, Victorian boudoir setting at odds with her agent persona. And given Dalton’s experiences with Mistress Bella, the ultra-feminine room suddenly seemed absurd.
The full moon filtered through the gauzy curtains, illuminating the king-sized bed with its brass headboard and jumble of pillows. Without ceremony, Dalton dumped her onto the bed and stood watching, hands on hips, as she pushed her hair from her face.
“Take off your clothes.” His order was short and non-negotiable.
Domino shivered, realizing he was following
Mistress Bella’s script. Tonight would be about sex, not love. But she was beyond self-deception and wouldn’t project this man into any fantasies about white picket fences and happily ever afters. She wanted Dalton more than she’d ever wanted any man. So she’d give him her body and take the pleasure he was offering without pretty promises. But she would protect her heart.
Domino pulled down the long zipper that bisected her silk dress. His gaze followed her fingers and his eyes widened as he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. A flash of feminine pride softened her innate resistance to giving up control. She revealed her breasts, stripped off the gilded dress and dropped it over the side of the bed. Her nipples tightened under his keen inspection.
Dom kicked off her sandals and they tumbled to the floor. All that remained were her golden garterless stockings and her thong. Moving deliberately, she slipped her fingers under the elastic edge of the stocking on her right leg, peeled it down and dropped it. Smoothing her hands up her left leg, she grasped the top of that stocking and removed it as well.
Dalton’s gaze stroked her bare legs as it swept to the small patch of gold silk shielding the last of her from his eyes. She hesitated, suddenly reluctant to take this last step.
“Everything.” His hoarse voice brooked no opposition.
Dom slid off her thong and lay back on the bed. The hot anticipation of finally feeling Dalton inside her fought with her discomfort at being naked in front of this fully clothed male. As she watched, his hands curled into fists and he seemed to be struggling for control.
“Reach up and grab hold of the bed.” His order came through clenched teeth, gruff and imperative.
Dom slowly complied, the brass of the headboard cold against her palms. The movement arched her back and thrust up her breasts in invitation. She was only simulating bondage, but the intensity of his stare pinned her to the bed as surely as a rope.
“Spread your legs.”
His voice was so low she almost missed the command. Domino moved her legs a few inches apart.
“Wider.”
The word hit her like a slap and she opened herself fully to his gaze. A hot blush suffused her skin at the thought that her swollen, damp flesh was clearly visible. In the quiet room she heard Dalton’s breath catch and then continue raggedly. The knowledge of her effect on him hardened her resolve to see the game through to its finish.
“Weeks of sexual torture…” Dalton’s eyes slid to hers as he unbuttoned his shirt. “The teasing, the taunts…” He pulled the shirt from his pants and off his arms, dropping it without a glance. “You touching, taking…” He toed off his boat shoes. “Always in charge…” He slipped his wallet out of his back pocket and set it on the nightstand. “Always off-limits…” He slowly unzipped his pants and pushed them, along with his briefs, down and off.
Dom sucked in her breath at the sight of his arousal. She’d seen his body before, arrogantly handled it, but tonight was different. Tonight she would willingly relinquish control to the man who’d stimulated her fantasies…and finally feel the hard proof of his desire. Shakily, she licked her lips and watched Dalton’s mouth curve into a wicked smile.
Chapter Seventeen
God, she was beautiful.
And tonight, finally, she’d be his. Dalton squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to maintain control. He’d wanted this woman for too long to lose it now. Dammit, he wasn’t a horny teenager. After several calming breaths, he opened his eyes and reached for his wallet. Willing his hands to stop shaking, Dalton slipped out a condom and dropped the wallet.
He met Domino’s dark gaze as he ripped open the packet. Carefully, he rolled the condom onto his erection, the muscles in his stomach shuddering at the contact. Dalton looked up from the task to see her staring at his sheathed cock. He fought against the impulse to take her in a sex-starved frenzy.
Dalton moved onto the bed, kneeling between her spread legs and looking his fill. The scent of her desire made him dizzy with need and he bit back a groan. Reaching out, he ran his fingers across her perfect breasts. Her skin was damp, her nipples hard under his fingertips. She moaned and writhed, her hands loosening on the bed board.
“Don’t let go,” he ordered, borrowing another page from Mistress Bella’s tutorial, “unless you’re hoping to be punished.” He watched Domino’s stubborn little chin come up as she took a firmer hold on the metal rail. “Good girl,” Dalton praised and almost laughed at the flash of temper in her eyes.
He caressed and molded her breasts for several moments before leaning down to take one nipple into his mouth. Her gasp made the blood sing in his ears. Dalton gently bit the sensitive flesh and she arched off the bed. Then he sucked deeply, awed by Domino’s response. Greedy for more, he pressed her breasts together and laved both nipples with the flat of his tongue. He lingered, teasing and tasting his fill.
“Please.”
Her breathy plea made him throb. Why was he torturing them both? Releasing her breasts, he slid a hand down her trembling stomach to the wet prize between her legs.
Letting his fingers explore her hot juncture, Dalton kissed his way down her restless body. He trailed his lips over her abdomen and felt a rush of masculine satisfaction as her sweet skin quivered at his touch. Gripping her bottom, he tilted Domino’s hips and pressed his mouth to her most private place.
“Dalton!”
Urged on by her gasping cry, he ran his tongue over her swollen flesh, feasting on her. Hungry for her every moan, he drove her higher. Domino twisted and bucked, whether in an effort to escape or get closer, he’d never know.
“Now.”
Her command made him smile even as it echoed his own frantic need. The little tyrant was as desperate as he. Shaking, Dalton slid up her body and took her mouth with more passion than finesse. “Mistress Bella’s not here tonight.” He settled between her legs and brushed his chest against Domino’s welcoming body. “I decide what happens and when.”
Dalton rubbed his erection against her wet opening before sliding just the head of his cock inside. He paused, wanting to maintain his dominance, but Domino curled her hips and drove him deeper.
“Damn!” Dalton’s tenuous control snapped and he surged into her tight heat.
She cried out his name, folding her long legs around him. In a carnal flash, he was swamped with the need to possess her totally. His…Domino was his. The thin veneer of civilization between him and his primitive ancestors evaporated and Dalton took her with a passion close to madness.
“Yes, God, yes!”
Domino’s cries fanned his sexual frenzy. She met his hard thrusts, her nails digging into his back. He felt the first spasms of her climax and lifted his head to watch her. Pulsing waves of pleasure rolled through her, each reflected in her face, and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
She screamed his name, her snug sheath triggering the most explosive orgasm of his life. Dalton roared as the powerful release convulsed his body. He buried his face in her neck and rode the waves, complete and one with Dominique.
As their shuddering waned and their breathing slowed, Dalton realized she was stroking his back, soothing him through the aftershocks of his climax. Some conquering caveman. Despite his efforts to dominate her, they’d come together as partners in the most intense sexual experience he’d ever had. Was this what it was like to make love? He resolutely pushed the thought away.
With sensuous slowness, Dalton slipped out of her but he wasn’t willing to relinquish their closeness. So he rolled her with him onto their sides and tucked her face into his shoulder.
To his supreme relief, she didn’t try to talk. Maybe Domino was as dazed as he by their lovemaking…that is, by the sex. Dalton frowned. Whatever you called what they’d just enjoyed, he wasn’t ready to analyze it to death. He just knew he was happy and satisfied and contented in a way he could never remember being. It felt like coming home.
Domino floated, dreamy and relaxed, cocooned by his warmth and his all-male scent. A strange
r to snuggling, she luxuriated in the new sensation of feeling cherished in Dalton’s arms. Before, sexual experiences had been a physical act for her, with no emotions muddying the waters. Here, with Dalton, she felt connected on a level her grandmother would label “spiritual”.
She opened her mouth to tell him how different, how special, their lovemaking had been, but she couldn’t form the words. While her body was alive with the aftershocks of their passion, her mind seemed stun-gunned. So Dom simply pressed her lips against his chest, right over his heart.
Dalton stroked his hand up her arm to her cheek. With a gentleness that surprised her, he brushed her hair back from her face. She turned her head and kissed his bandaged palm.
“What happened to your hand?” she asked.
Dalton held up his palm as though seeing it for the first time. “It was tricky using your switchblade to cut the tape.” She made a concerned noise but he jumped in before she could speak. “It’s just a scratch, but the switchblade was logged in as evidence. Sorry.”
Domino almost said she didn’t give a damn about the knife as long as he was safe but stopped. Now that the sexual afterglow was fading, she suspected she’d been romanticizing their lovemaking. If she admitted her feelings to Dalton, he’d probably leave skid marks on her carpet in his haste to escape. It was time to turn the conversation to a safer topic.
“So Salvi and his goons are in jail?” She shifted to lie across Dalton’s chest so she could watch his expression. His jaw tightened before he answered her.
“For now. But given the high-priced lawyer they called, I bet they’re out on bail by morning. The DEA turned them over to Metro PD and my captain handled the interrogation with me.” Dalton stopped and shot her a sheepish grin. “I’m in hot water since I was investigating the club against orders.”
“Imagine that,” Domino said, “you not following commands.”
“Smart-ass.” He gave her bottom a squeeze.
Their gazes met in a shared amusement that turned hot in an instant. Dom broke eye contact and asked another question.
