AtHerCommand

by Marcia James

  Dom nodded. “Still it’s a whole new ballgame,” she said. “And we need a whole new game plan…”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ten p.m. Domino glanced at her dashboard clock and drummed her fingers on her steering wheel as she waited for her garage door to open. Was it her imagination, or was the damn thing operating in slow motion? Maybe she was just impatient to get inside her house to see if Dalton was waiting for her. Don’t get your hopes up. Even if he decides to drop by this evening, he won’t expect you home for hours.

  Thanks to Salvi, her late-night clients had been rescheduled. The club manager, after a briefing by Mattingly, had arranged for her to have an early night. Apparently Salvi had been pleased with the lawyer’s report. However, since Salvi’s facial expressions ranged from cold to emotionless, it was difficult to tell when he was happy about anything.

  Finally the door was fully open. Dom drove her VW into the garage, turned off the ignition and pushed the remote to send the garage door sliding back down with the speed of a glacier. For several seconds, she sat listening to the ticking of the cooling car engine. What if Dalton was inside?

  Dom nibbled on her lower lip. What if he wasn’t interested in picking up where they’d left off that morning? What if Dalton regretted what they’d done together?

  “Pollo piccolo,” Domino muttered, resting her forehead on the steering wheel. She was being a “little chicken”, as her grandmother had teasingly called her whenever she’d refused to face her fears. But what if Dalton’s desire for her had evaporated? What if the most incredible night of her life was no big deal to him?

  Cursing herself for being such a wimp, Dom grabbed her purse and slipped out her car. It’d be better to find out the truth than to fear the worse. She let herself into her house, stepping into the mudroom off the kitchen. The soft light over her dinette set glowed in welcome. Had she forgotten to turn it off when she’d left for the club earlier?

  Hanging up her winter coat on a wall peg, she walked into the kitchen and caught her breath. Dalton sat at the table, holding her contented canine partner in his lap.

  “Welcome home,” he said, strumming her senses with his deep voice. “Smokey and I were sharing some beer nuts. Want some?”

  Dom shook her head as the dog jumped down and trotted over to greet her. Bending to stroke his tufted head, she watched Dalton rise and approach in a slow, predatory swagger. She straightened, self-conscious and painfully aware her uncertainty was showing.

  “Long day?” He stopped in front of her and searched her face.

  “Yeah.” Could he sense her hesitation? Was he only here for a report on the case? “A long and frustrating day.”

  “Maybe you should get off your feet.” He scooped her up in his arms. At her astonished gasp, he shot her a wicked grin.

  “Dalton, you idiot, put me down!” she ordered but spoiled the command with a giggle. Her rush of relief at the desire in his eyes made her giddy.

  “Sure, in a minute.” He carried her down the hall and into her bedroom. Turning, he kicked the door shut in Smokey’s face. Domino heard the dog version of disgruntled grumbling before the pooch pattered away. Dalton strode to the bed and placed her on the mattress, coming down on top of her.

  “Did you miss me?” he asked.

  “You’re so damn cocky,” she teased. “What do you think?”

  “I want to hear you say it.”

  “You first.”

  Dalton rolled his eyes. “What, are we in kindergarten? Okay, I missed you.” His expression grew serious as he searched her face. “I missed the hell out of you.”

  Dom sobered and brushed a lock of dark hair off his forehead. “I missed you too.”

  For an immeasurable moment they just stared, connected on an emotional level she’d never experienced. Then Dalton closed the scant distance between them to take her mouth in a gentle, breath-stealing kiss. Her whole body sang in response but the loudest note came from her heart. And Domino knew she was sliding with terrifying swiftness into love.

  She ran her hands down his sides and tugged his shirt free from his jeans. Maybe, Dom thought in desperation, if she just concentrated on the lovemaking, she wouldn’t be so heartsick when the relationship ended.

  Dalton however, refused to be rushed. He caught her wrists and brought them to his lips. When he ran his tongue over her fingers and pressed kisses into her palms, Dom shivered and surrendered to his languid pace.

  “I’ve waited hours to hold you again.” He brushed his beard-roughened cheek against her hand. “I want to enjoy every inch of you.” Dalton lowered her arms to the bed and she moaned as he nuzzled her neck.

  “Your scent drives me crazy,” he continued, the rumble of his voice vibrating against her skin. “I want to taste you everywhere.” He opened the top buttons of her fleece shirt and explored the planes of her collarbone.

  Domino had never had a lover who caressed her with words while he stroked her body. Would it have the same sensuous effect on him if she described her thoughts aloud?

  Urging herself to match his sexy monologue, she whispered close to his ear. “I’ve dreamed of touching your body all day,” she said, thrilled she had the courage to say such things. “Running my hands over you and taking you in my mouth—”

  His groan stopped her. Had she gone too far? Despite the throbbing of his cock evident even through the jeans, she stammered on. “I’ve never actually done that but I thought you might like it if I kissed you there…”

  Dalton gave a choked laugh and tilted his head to look at her. His pupils were so large and inky black. “You’re killing me here, baby. I’m trying to take things slow.”

  His use of the endearment and the affection on his face flooded her with warmth and bolstered her daring. “Don’t. We’ll make a banquet of it the next time.” Domino grinned. “And we’ll savor every moment. But for now…”

  She slipped her hand between their bodies and rubbed the swollen length of him through his jeans. He shut his eyes and shuddered, his jaw clenching in his fight for control.

  Dom leaned closer, her lips brushing his as she spoke. “Why don’t we think of this first time as an appetizer—something hot and fast?”

  Her last words were all but swallowed up as he kissed her hard. Then, taking her suggestion to heart, he swept her into a mind-blowing, pulse-pounding ride.

  * * * * *

  “Hit me with your best shot…why don’t you hit me—”

  With a curse, Domino slammed the snooze button on her clock radio, cutting off Pat Benatar mid-note. Then she turned onto her back with a groan and stared at the ceiling. Were little S&M gremlins programming her favorite FM stations? Maybe Dalton had slept through the noise. Right on cue, the bed shifted and the man himself was smiling down at her.

  “Don’t say it,” she grumbled.

  “What?” he asked, all feigned innocence. “That you seem to have a violent taste in music? That I wonder if Mistress Bella uses the songs to get pumped up for action in the mornings?”

  She glared at him and he laughed before kissing her frowning lips. The press of his body against hers made Dom aware that all of him was wide-awake. Her irritation at the radio vanished as Dalton slid his mouth to her ear. His nibbling sent electric sensations pulsing through her system.

  Giggling, something she was doing surprisingly often these days, Domino wiggled away from his sexy ministrations. “I wouldn’t be throwing accusations at Bella, if I were you. You’re the only one who’s pumped up this morning.”

  Dalton grinned and ran his hand across her peaking nipples. “Are you sure about that?”

  The rasp of his callused palm against her flesh had her shivering, lighting an appreciative gleam in his eyes. But before they could act on their desires, her doorbell chimed.

  This time Dalton cursed as they rolled out of bed together. Crossing to her closet, Dom slipped on her sweat suit. She had goose bumps and wasn’t sure if it was the chill of leaving a warm bed or her dread that
Salvi was at her door. As Dalton zipped his jeans and shrugged into his shirt, the doorbell rang again.

  “Stay here,” she instructed, opening her bedroom door.

  Dalton started to speak but simply nodded. It was obvious he wasn’t happy with the need to stay hidden. Dom walked to the front door and looked through the peephole. Meyers.

  Relieved, she called, “It’s my partner Meyers.”

  Dalton stepped into the hallway as she unlocked and opened the front door. The large, red-haired man standing on her front porch was indeed the DEA operative who’d coordinated Dalton’s rescue a couple of nights ago. Before he could greet him however, Meyers stepped inside, pulled Dom into an embrace and kissed her—not a peck on the lips between friends but a full-blown, tonsil-swabbing kiss. Dalton fisted his hands as a cauldron of anger clouded his vision. He charged forward with the single intent of knocking in Meyers’ teeth.

  Before Dalton reached the couple, Dom pushed her partner off her and slammed the front door, concealing all three of them from anyone watching her house. Dalton stopped, unnoticed by the DEA agent and still wanting to plant a fist in his face.

  “What the hell was that for?” Dom demanded, rubbing her sweatshirt sleeve across her mouth.

  Meyers, still focused on Domino, smirked. “Just staying in character. I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, remember?”

  “Well, try something like that again,” she spat out, “and you’ll be singing soprano. Capisce?”

  Meyers’ look turned mulish. “Are you planning to call New Jersey and sic some of your knee-breaker uncles on me?”

  “She won’t have to call long distance,” Dalton said, watching as both their heads snapped in his direction. “I’ll be happy to do the job if you touch her again.”

  Dalton registered Domino’s grimace and eye-roll, but he never took his eyes off Meyers. They glared at each other as the agent drew himself up to his full height. It was plain Meyers had realized the significance of Dalton exiting the bedroom in bare feet and an unbuttoned shirt. For a testosterone-charged moment, Dalton hoped the man would throw a punch. He’d love to mop the floor with the arrogant bastard.

  A sharp bark drew all eyes downward. Smokey had joined the standoff, planted firmly by Dalton’s side. The dog, looking disturbingly like a rabid rodent, was growling at Meyers.

  Chuckling, Domino stepped forward and swept Smokey into her arms. “My hero,” she crooned to the dog, kissing its nose and ignoring the men.

  The humor of the situation forced its way past Dalton’s ire. And his smile turned into a laugh when Dom’s clock radio kicked back on and Britney Spears sang out, “Baby, hit me one more time.” With a comment about Satanic appliances, Dom carried Smokey with her to the bedroom to silence her radio.

  Dalton looked at Meyers and offered the morning equivalent of the peace pipe. “Coffee?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he headed into the kitchen. Meyers followed, seating himself at the table while Dalton filled the coffee machine. He sensed the agent taking note of his familiarity with Domino’s kitchen. Good. The jerk needed to know the score. Despite Dalton’s well-honed self-preservation instinct when it came to trusting women, he was staking a claim. Dominique Petracelli was his.

  Yawning, her hair still messed from sleep, Dalton’s woman entered the kitchen. Grabbing a mug, she impatiently pulled the half-filled carafe from the coffeemaker and stuck her cup directly under the fragrant stream of coffee. When the cup was full, she replaced the carafe and rooted in a cabinet for a dog biscuit to toss to Smokey. Dalton wondered if she was going to get the orange juice from the fridge and drink straight from the carton. He smiled. Apparently Domino wasn’t a morning person.

  Dalton poured himself and grudgingly Meyers a cup of coffee. Then he joined the agent at the table while Dom remained standing. After she took several sips of coffee and moaned in appreciation—reminding him of their more pleasurable nighttime activities—Domino spoke.

  “I’m glad you’re both here,” she began. “There are developments at the club you need to know. Salvi’s put surveillance cameras in the loading bay and storage areas.”

  “It figures,” Dalton said.

  She swung her gaze to his, all business. “Yeah, I was surprised there weren’t cameras there all along. But now our chances of planting a tracking device are slim to none.”

  “Maybe if the damn cops had kept their noses out of our business—” Meyers said.

  “Your business?” Dalton surged to his feet. “It was my partner they killed.”

  “Stop it!” Dom snapped. “It’s a joint investigation now.”

  “If your partner had come to the DEA,” Meyers said, ignoring Dom and rising out of his chair, “he wouldn’t be dead.”

  Dalton drew back his fist, anticipating the crunch of Meyers’ nose. But Domino gave them both a shove.

  “Damn it,” she swore. “Why don’t you just whip out your dicks and compare sizes so we can get back to the case?”

  Dalton started to point out she was already quite familiar with his appendage but after one glance at her face, kept the remark to himself. Meyers glared at her and sat down again. After a moment, Dalton lowered himself stiffly to his chair.

  “Okay,” Dom continued her debriefing. “So our original plan is pretty well shot, especially since Salvi and his buddies will probably lay low for months after all of this attention.”

  Dalton nodded. The club manager wasn’t the type to take foolish chances. Knowing the club was under surveillance, Salvi wouldn’t be accepting or shipping any drugs for a while.

  “And I’m not looking forward to dominatrix duty until Salvi gets his operation working again,” Dom added.

  “Why?” Meyers muttered. “Isn’t that where you two met?”

  Dalton balled his hands, itching to wipe the smirk off the agent’s face. But he knew pain-in-the-ass Meyers was a necessary evil in the plan to put Salvi behind bars. And to Dalton, revenging his dead partner had to take priority over everything. But once this case was over…

  “We need a new plan.” Domino spoke loud to regain their attention. “Suzi Cho and I discussed it last night.”

  “Cho’s the cop undercover at the club?” Meyers asked.

  Dom nodded, poured herself a second cup of coffee and sat down at the table. “With a contact in the D.A.’s office, Salvi will probably find out about Suzi before too long.”

  Dalton started to defend his captain’s discretion but stopped. All it would take was the wrong person overhearing something at the cop shop and Cho’s cover would be blown.

  “Suzi agrees I have the best chance of any of us to gain Salvi’s trust,” Domino stated. “So, here’s what we propose to do.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ll tell Salvi I think Suzi’s a cop—”

  “Are you crazy?” Dalton interrupted, instinctively protecting his friend and coworker.

  Domino, earnest and unsmiling, turned to him. “Hear me out. I’ll tell Salvi I saw you and Suzi meeting and I suspect she’s a cop. Suzi knows it’s risky but we don’t think Salvi will hurt her with the cops investigating the club right now.”

  “I won’t let Cho be used as bait,” Dalton snapped.

  “What? Are you doing her too?” Meyers sneered.

  Dalton rose halfway out of his chair before he was arrested by Dom’s hand on his arm. He was starting to feel like a jack-in-the-box.

  “This was Suzi’s idea. Let me finish,” Dom ordered. When Dalton sat back down, she continued. “I’ll offer to keep an eye on Suzi for Salvi, to find out what the cops are up to. And after a week or so, I’ll report overhearing a phone conversation of Suzi’s about meeting someone from the Cabazone family.”

  “Perfect,” Meyers remarked. “Those assholes are in this up to their eyeballs.”

  “Salvi won’t want the cops getting inside information from the Cabazones so he’ll have to stop the meeting,” Domino said. “We’ll pick the meeting place, have it wired, put agents and cops in p
osition and take the SOB down.”

  Dalton knew it was a good plan but he couldn’t get past the danger to Cho. “I won’t lose another friend.”

  Domino gazed at him, her eyes filled with concern. “There’s no guarantee Suzi’s cover will stay intact for much longer anyway. We can’t afford to wait around for something to happen. It’s time to be proactive.”

  Meyers nodded. “I’ll run the scenario by Lowery but I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

  Dalton wanted to argue but he didn’t have an alternative strategy. “I’ll discuss it with Captain Bennett too. But don’t move ahead until we’ve all agreed it’s the best plan.”

  Dom knew for now she had to be satisfied with their answers. With all the male ego squeezed into her kitchen, she was surprised they’d shut up long enough to hear her out. When they got their minds off their dominant posturing, she was certain they’d get onboard with the plan. Putting her feet on an empty chair, Domino patted her knee. Smokey jumped on her lap.

  “Since Suzi and I spent all that energy developing the scenario,” she said, “why don’t you two flip a coin to see who’ll cook me bacon and eggs.”

  “No need to flip.” Dalton got up and walked to the refrigerator. “I’m sure Meyers has already eaten and has things to do elsewhere.”

  Domino suppressed a smile at Meyers’ dismissal. She’d rather have breakfast alone with Dalton anyway. Before her partner could make a snide comment, she spoke. “Okay then, I’ll walk Meyers to the door and be right back.”

  Ignoring the angry flush flooding the agent’s face, Dom placed Smokey on the floor and stood. When Meyers shoved up from the table, she led the way to the front door. Knowing her partner however, she was sure he’d have a couple of choice words for her before he departed. So she stopped with her hand on the doorknob and faced him.

  “You know, Petracelli,” Meyers spoke in a friendly voice that belied the fury in his eyes, “you had us all fooled at the agency. We thought you were a cold fish.” He gestured to the kitchen. “I guess it just took someone willing to play sick sex games with you to get past that iceberg exterior.”