AtHerCommand (18 page)

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Authors: Marcia James

BOOK: AtHerCommand
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“You’ve got mustard right here.” He leaned forward to
replace his finger with his tongue.

She didn’t want to drop the subject but his distraction was
working. The feel of his tongue gliding over her lips was so erotic she
trembled.

That was all the encouragement Dalton required. With smooth,
fast moves, he stripped off her sweats and his pants. Lying back on the couch,
he pulled her onto him and pressed his hard need against her stomach. Domino
moaned, amazed she could be starving for him so soon after their explosive
lovemaking. If anything, she wanted him more, and the thought shook her.

Dalton cupped her face, his eyes fierce. Pulling her mouth
down to his, he swept his tongue inside, the flavor of the spicy mustard
layered over his own hot taste. His hands stroked down her body, inflaming and
teasing until she was desperate for him.

Breaking the kiss, he reached for his wallet in the back
pocket of his discarded pants and withdrew a foil packet. Domino had only a
moment to wonder how many condoms he carried with him before he was shifting
her to the side and sheathing himself.

“Bedroom?” Dom’s voice was a throaty whisper.

“Here.” Dalton grunted, grasping her waist and lifting her
over his erection. “Now.”

He lowered her and she watched fascinated as the swollen
length of his cock disappeared inside her. The heated pressure was intense and
she held still in an effort to adjust to his size. Dalton shuddered and she met
his gaze. His struggle for control thrilled her. Domino arched her back and
began to move.

The sultry slide of their bodies drew her to the edge,
tempted her to press harder, ride faster. But the sensations were too exquisite
to rush. Dalton’s hands reached up to clasp her breasts, his fingers brushing
her sensitive flesh. Dom gasped and covered his hands with her own. He took her
wrists and rubbed her palms over her nipples, urging her to pleasure herself.
With a moan, she massaged her breasts.

Dalton dropped his hands to her thighs, his breathing ragged
as he watched her. His self-control shattered and he forced her thighs into a
faster rhythm. He dictated speed and depth, thrusting into her until Dom hit
her flashpoint. Throwing up her arms and shouting her climax, she flew.

With a roar, he followed her. And when she fell forward in
languorous bliss, he caught her and hugged her to his chest.

For long moments she cuddled boneless against him, listening
to his heart beat and hovering on the edge of sleep. His breathing evened out
but the gentle stroking of his fingers up and down her back let her know he was
awake. Domino smiled. Despite choosing a female-dominant sex position, Dalton
had needed to be in charge again.
Bully.
She straightened to see his
face and tugged his chest hair.

“Ouch.” Dalton rubbed the pulled hair. “What’s that for?”

“Even when I’m on top, you have to set the pace.”

“Honey, you set the pace for the last month as Mistress
Bella,” he teased. “Now it’s my turn.”

Blushing, Domino ducked her head back to his chest and kept
quiet even when he chuckled at her embarrassment. It mortified her to think of
the things she’d said and done to Dalton. Her face burned hotter than the
candles she’d dripped on him earlier that evening. Not only had she topped a
cop but she’d played her Mistress Bella games with a man who was now her lover.

Lying in his arms, Dom thought of what he’d said about
Jason, how he blamed himself for his murder. Before he’d distracted her, she’d
glimpsed his well of deep pain. Was this guilt the reason he’d never used the
safe word during their sessions? He thinks he deserves to be punished, she
realized, with a rush of compassion and sadness.

And regardless of the danger to her heart, Domino wanted to
be the one to take his pain away.

* * * * *

“C’mon baby, make it hurt so good…”

Dom sat up in bed and slammed her hand down on the snooze
button. Of all the music to blare out of her alarm clock this morning, it had
to be John Mellencamp’s masochism-tinged song. The last thing she wanted after
the incredible night they’d shared was to remind Dalton of their sex club
sessions.

Turning the dial to an easy-listening station, she snuggled
against Dalton’s side. Well, at least he appeared to have slept through the
suggestive rock song. She was drifting on the edge of sleep when the alarm went
off again.

“The first cut is the deepest…”

Domino twisted to smack the snooze button again, cutting off
Sheryl Crow’s ballad. What the hell was it with these songs? She’d kill the
alarm altogether but she needed to get up soon to check-in with her boss.
Switching the station to a classic rock favorite, she rolled back to Dalton and
laid her head on his shoulder. He was so warm, like a big bear, she’d thrown
off the blanket hours before. Cuddling under flannel sheets, Dom wished they could
spend the day in bed together.

“Beat it! Beat it!…”

With a frustrated cry, Domino shot out of bed and pulled the
alarm clock’s plug out of the wall. Michael Jackson’s voice died mid
Beat It
.
She stood, glaring down at the dead appliance. Sure, it’d been a juvenile
reaction, but at least she hadn’t flung the clock across the room.

Dalton opened one eye and regarded her. “What do you have
that thing tuned to? The all-S-and-M, all-the-time station?”

Domino gasped, aware she was standing in her birthday suit
in the weak February sunshine. Grabbing the flannel top sheet, she pulled it
off the bed and wrapped it around herself like a toga. Dalton opened the other
eye, chuckled and sat up in bed. Helpless to resist, her eyes traveled south
down the splendid naked landscape of his body. His obvious interest in a repeat
of the previous night’s many performances stood at attention, impressive and so
tempting.

Before either of them could move, his cell phone rang.
Dalton stood up, cursing, and rummaged through the pile of his clothes on her
chaise lounge. Grabbing his coat, he pulled the phone from a pocket.

“Cutter.” Dalton’s voice was brisk and no-nonsense.

Domino marveled at how quickly he’d changed from her sexy
lover to an on-the-job cop. Locating her gray sweat suit, she donned it and
headed to the bedroom door. She’d make them coffee and give him a little
privacy.

“No, dammit.”

Dalton’s angry voice had her turning back in concern. As she
watched, he let loose a string of expletives that burned her ears. What had
happened? She took a step toward him.

“I can’t fucking believe this, Captain,” Dalton spit out.
“Are you sure they weren’t paid off?”

Domino could hear the caller’s heated tone but not his words
as Dalton held the phone away from his ear.

“All right,” Dalton said, and she watched him rein in his
fury. He put the phone back to his ear. “I’ll be there soon.” Running his free
hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture, he listened and then nodded. “I
won’t do anything stupid, Captain, but I’m not letting this guy get off.”

He hit the End button and dropped the phone onto the clothes
pile. Meeting her eyes, he seemed to realize she was there for the first time
since he’d answered the call.

“Bad news?” she asked, knowing how ridiculous it sounded.

“You could say that.” He took a deep breath and let it out
slowly. “Captain Bennett called to tell me Salvi was released this morning,
something about an illegal search.”

Righteous indignation shot through Domino. “Are you saying
that bastard is getting off on a technicality?”

“Looks that way.” Dalton began to dress, his movements jerky
as he pulled on his jeans. “When the captain tried to tell me the details, I
saw red.”

“Do you know the arresting officers? Are they on the take?”

Dalton buttoned his shirt and shoved the tails into his
pants as he considered her question. “Peterson and Kovey? I’ve never seen any
evidence they’re dirty but you can bet your ass I’ll get to the truth.”

The steely determination in Dalton’s eyes almost made her
sorry for the cops.
Almost.
But she too wanted Salvi in jail and more
than that, she wanted Dalton to have his revenge.

Domino put her hand on his arm. “What can I do to help?”

Chapter Eighteen

 

Dalton glanced at her hand. Her touch was warm and there was
firm resolve in her voice. Meeting Dom’s gaze, he was shaken by the compassion
and more he saw in her eyes. When was the last time a woman had cared enough to
stand by him when things got rough?

He wanted to thank her for her support but his throat was
tight. So he went with instinct, drawing Domino into his arms for a kiss he
hoped conveyed all his feelings. When his hormones clamored for more, Dalton
reluctantly set her away from him.

“Thanks,” he said, his tone gruff. “There are a couple of
things you can do.”

“Just name them.” Dom sat on the bed and waited.

Dalton hesitated, surprised to find he didn’t want to wreck
the special memories in this room with the things they had to discuss. But time
was short and she needed to be prepared.

“You’ll be hearing from Salvi anytime now,” he warned.

Domino nodded. “He’ll be anxious to discover what I plan to
tell the cops about last night.”

“Yeah,” Dalton agreed. “Salvi’s smart enough to figure out
we’ll be picking you up for questioning. And if you verify my story, Metro PD
can build a stronger case against him.”

“He’ll pressure me not to testify about your abduction,” Dom
said. “And of course I can’t corroborate your story since I need to protect my
cover at the club.”

Dalton understood but he wasn’t happy about the situation.
And she certainly wouldn’t welcome a suggestion from him to turn over her case
to another DEA agent. Domino was a highly trained undercover veteran, but he
wished like hell he could put her in a safe house until Salvi was behind bars.

Frustrated, Dalton paced her bedroom then returned to stand
in front of her. “You realize even if you promise Salvi you won’t support my
story, he might decide to get rid of you?”

Her lips curved with pleasure at his concern. “I promise to
watch my back. Since the cops confiscated my blade, I’ll carry my gun with me
instead.”

“Government issue?” he asked.

“No, my personal gun,” she reassured him. “My official
weapon would blow my cover if anyone searched me.”

“Good.” Dalton wanted her out of harm’s way but she had her
own job to do. There was one thing however he could do to help protect her.
“You know the club masseuse named Suzi—slim, attractive, with a smart mouth?”

Something like jealousy played across Dom’s face. Feeling
foolish for relishing her caring enough to give a damn, Dalton wondered if he’d
misread her expression when her eyes turned cool.

“I’ve met Suzi,” she answered in a flat tone.

Dalton could practically see the wall she was throwing up
between them. “She’s a Metro PD detective.” He watched Dom’s surprised
reaction. “She’ll be part of this combined police-DEA effort and an ally for
you on the inside.”

Domino ducked her head for a moment then shot him a sheepish
look. “Suzi’s a cop?”

“Yep, a
good
cop and a good friend,” he said. “If you
can find a safe place to meet, Suzi will be able to keep you posted on our side
of the investigation.”

Dom rose from the bed and stepped into his personal space.
Her spicy scent tripped memories of the hours they’d spent burning up her
sheets and he grew hard with wanting her.

“What about you?” The sexy smile on her face almost
distracted him from the vulnerability in her eyes. “Will you be by to…brief
me?”

“I’d rather debrief you of every article of clothing.”
Dalton cupped the nape of her neck and drew her mouth to his. Could she really
be insecure after the night they’d spent together?

If only he had the whole day to reassure her in her brass
bed but the real world was pressing in on them. Instead, Dalton brushed his
body against hers, letting her feel his hard desire. When he broke the kiss, her
ragged breathing echoed his.

“I’ll be back this evening,” he promised. “I’ll park on the
street behind yours as I did last night and come through the backyard in case
they’re watching your house.”

“Okay.” She sounded husky.

Domino walked to her dresser, opened a drawer and took out a
small jewelry box. Lifting the lid, she retrieved a key and brought it to him.

“This is my spare.” She handed over the key. “It’ll fit the
back door. And there’s a security system keypad.”

“Your system wasn’t activated last night.” Dalton was amazed
he could sound like a nag.

“Well, I guess I’ll be a little more careful from now on,”
Dom said. “The code to deactivate the system is ten-three.”

“October third?” he asked and she blushed. Was the date
something special between her and a boyfriend?
Damn.
Just imagining
Domino with another guy made him want to put his fist through a wall.

“It’s my grandmother’s birthday,” she explained, obviously
embarrassed at the sentimental code choice.

God, she was a dichotomy—the serious agent who could pull a
switchblade faster than he could blink and the sexy lover who decorated her
bedroom in frills and flowers. She wouldn’t enjoy being told she was hard on
the outside with a soft center, like a gumball. Dalton smiled and just barely
resisted stealing another kiss.

He dropped the key into his wallet and his wallet into the
back pocket of his jeans. He needed to restock the worn leather trifold with
condoms or maybe just buy a box for Dom’s nightstand. The thought was both
exciting and scarily domestic.

Dalton slipped his feet into his boat shoes and pulled on
his jacket. Instinctively, he patted the reassuring bulge of the gun in his
pocket. He met her eyes, wishing he could protect her through the day ahead.

“My partner Weinberg will come by around ten to escort you
to the station,” he said.

They walked together out of the room, down the hall and into
the kitchen. Domino unlocked the deadbolt on the back door. “Will you take part
in the interrogation?” Her eyes reflected his reluctance to part.

“I’ll be watching through the two-way mirror in the
screening room,” Dalton explained. “I’m sure Salvi’s lawyer will be there so my
captain will have to make it look real.”

“No problem,” she said.

He nodded, opened the back door and stepped into the freezing
February air. As he turned to go, a wicked impulse triggered a parting remark.
“Say ‘hi’ to Mistress Bella for me. I still owe her a couple of paybacks. Maybe
I’ll stop by the store and pick up some candles.”

 

Domino heard his laughter as she locked the door behind him.
Holy cannoli.
Visions of Dalton dripping warm wax over her skin had her
blushing at the same time her body hummed in anticipation. Damn, it was going
to be a long day.

With a glance toward the wall clock, Dom hurried down the
hall and into her bathroom. She adjusted the water and stepped into the shower,
aware of pleasant muscle aches and twinges courtesy of her night with Dalton.
With a smug smile, she soaped her body and thought about their sexual Olympics.
Insatiable, they’d barely closed their eyes all night and she couldn’t wait for
a repeat performance.

A niggling voice in the back of her mind clamored for
attention.
You’re riding for a fall. Dalton’s a lot of fun but he’s not
interested in anything long-term
. Ignoring the warning and banishing images
of the night before, Dom lathered her hair and ran through her story for the
cops. She’d have to be on her toes today to keep from blowing her cover.

An hour later, she’d dressed, eaten breakfast and was
savoring her second cup of coffee when her doorbell rang. Smokey ran to the
door, growling and bristling. Checking the peephole, Dom spied an unsmiling man
in an expensive-looking topcoat standing on her front porch. She adjusted the
gun at the small of her back to make sure it was covered by her jacket, fixed
her Mistress Bella persona in place and opened the door.

The man grimaced in a parody of a smile and introduced
himself. “Ms. Petracelli, my name is Charles Mattingly.” He shifted his
briefcase into his left hand and offered his right, which Dom shook. “My firm
represents the Xecutive Branch club. Could I speak to you?”

With an air of arrogant indifference, Domino stepped back
and motioned for the man to enter. He walked past her to the living room, his
expensive cologne cloying and sweet. He shot a look of distaste in Smokey’s
direction and settled on the sofa.

Dom took the chair across from him, forcing a confident,
unworried manner. “What’s this about, Chuck?”

Just as she’d expected, the lawyer frowned at the diminutive
of his Christian name. Apparently he wasn’t thrilled to be dealing with the
likes of Mistress Bella. But he maintained the formal attitude as he opened his
briefcase, pulled out a file and placed it on the coffee table. Reading the
label upside down, she could see it was Dalton’s file.

“Ms. Petracelli, what do you know about Dalton Cutter?”

Dom curved her lips into a smirk. “Well, let’s see. He has a
high tolerance for pain, needs to work on his submissiveness and has no
interest in water sports. But you already know that since I wrote it in his
file.”

Mattingly’s ears reddened but he continued. “And did you
learn something new about him last night?”

Her heart jolted. Was he referring to her lovemaking with
Dalton? Then she realized he was quizzing her on the scene in the loading bay.
Her self-preservation and agent training kicked in.

Dom reached for the cordless phone on the coffee table.
Instead of answering his question, she dialed the club. Vicky, the
receptionist, answered with a brisk “Xecutive Branch”.

“Hi, it’s Dominique. Is Mr. Salvi in?”

Vicky asked her to hold, which she did while maintaining eye
contact with Mattingly. Domino was surprised when the lawyer gave her an
approving smile.

“Salvi.”

Just the sound of the club manager’s voice sent dread
skittering down her spine but Dom feigned a casualness she didn’t feel. “This
is Dominique. I have a man in my living room who says he works for the club.
Chuck Mattingly?”

“Yes, Mr. Mattingly represents us. He helps protect
loyal
employees.” Salvi emphasized the word “loyal” and Dom didn’t miss the point.
After a beat, he continued. “I want you to answer all of his questions. And if
the police question you about that unfortunate incident last night, Mr.
Mattingly will accompany you. You are to follow his advice.”

“Sure.” Dom understood the threat the club manager was
projecting over the phone. Salvi cut off the call as abruptly as he’d cut her
throat if she testified against him. With a shiver, Domino set down the phone
and spoke to the lawyer. “You asked what I learned last night? I discovered
Dalton Cutter was a lying bastard cop.”

Mattingly nodded. “Mr. Salvi filled me in on the loading bay
events. I comprehend when you left work, you were under the impression the
danger to the club had been, uh, neutralized.”

It was Dom’s turn to nod. The lawyer folded his hands in his
lap and continued. “I regret to inform you Mr. Cutter or I should say Detective
Cutter is still a viable threat.”

Thanks to her undercover experience, Domino knew how to play
this scene. She let confusion then incredulity and finally anger wash over her
features. “Are you telling me Cutter got away?” she hissed.

In true attorney fashion, Mattingly spoke dispassionately.
“With the aid of reinforcements, Detective Cutter managed to gain the upper
hand and arrest two of the club’s warehousemen.”

Domino jumped out of her chair and stalked the length of her
living room and back. She didn’t have to fake her agitation. Dom knew exactly
what would happen to her if she didn’t convince this lawyer of her “employee
loyalty”.

“That
cop
,” she spat out the word like a curse, “is
alive?”

“Detective Cutter filed charges of kidnapping and attempted
murder against Mr. Salvi and his two assistants,” the lawyer explained. “Of
course, you
know
the charges are erroneous.”

Domino got the message loud and clear, a fact she didn’t
hide. “Sure, I know Mr. Salvi wouldn’t do anything illegal.”

“That’s correct.” Mattingly’s smile was cold. “I’m here to
help you polish your deposition for the police. When you’re questioned, you
wouldn’t want to say anything that might be misconstrued as supporting
Detective Cutter’s ridiculous claim.”

“Damn straight,” she said with what she hoped was
conviction. “That son-of-a-bitch cop played me for a fool. I’d love one more
crack at him as Mistress Bella.”

Raising one eyebrow in a disapproving gesture, Mattingly
pulled another file out of his briefcase. “Let’s begin.”

* * * * *

“Ms. Petracelli, I’m going to ask you again,” Captain
Bennett said, his voice echoing in the musty Metro PD interrogation room. “What
happened last night in the shipping area of the Xecutive Branch?”

Domino looked across the metal table at Dalton’s boss, who
sounded weary and frustrated. She imagined he’d like to be off working this
case instead of conducting a sham interrogation for the benefit of the club’s
lawyer. But the guys in the white hats needed to convince the villains that Dom
was on the side of evil. She almost smiled at the thought. She was getting a
little punchy after a busy night—courtesy of Dalton—and a day being prepped by
her lawyer and questioned by the police.

“I saw my client sneak into the loading bay and informed my
boss.” Domino smirked with disdain. “I figured Mr. Salvi could deal with some
wimp looking to rip-off a box of sex toys.”

Bennett sighed in exasperation and glanced at the gray
ceiling. In the chair next to hers, Mattingly sat unruffled, his back ramrod
straight. The wall clock made a slight ticking noise as it counted off the
seconds. Dom wondered how much longer this farce would go on. The sterile room
was chilly but she felt prickles of heat knowing Dalton stood behind the
two-way mirror to her left. The temptation to turn and send him a wink was
almost overwhelming.

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