Captivated (12 page)

“Whoa. That’s enough.”
Dom disengaged himself from her embrace. Champ growled and barked and pushed
between them. Guiding the dog back a careful distance, Dom pointed to the lobby
door. “You should go.”

“I won’t forget this.”
She blew him a kiss, then turned and strutted through the lobby and out into
the sunshine. He shook his head and walked into the elevator.

The brown envelope
crinkled in his fist. He didn
’t want his prior relationship
touching any parts of his current one. He strode through his apartment to the
trash can in the kitchen. But his hand hesitated over the open lid. Just
trashing it seemed wrong. Then again, she hadn’t cared about his feelings much
at all during their relationship. He should trash it. She would, if the
situation were reversed, unless she found an angle to her advantage. He dropped
it in the can. Conscience kicked in, and he pulled it back out. He’d mail it
back to her and tell her to try another route, one that didn’t involve him.

Her scent still clung to
him, making his skin crawl. He stripped and dropped everything in a heap in his
bedroom and jumped in the shower. Hot water pounded against his skin and he
soaped up twice, scrubbing his body harder than when trying to rid himself of
dirt and grim after a game.

The run-in with Natalie
reinforced how special Irisa was. For the first time in a long time, he
’d
met someone who made him feel happy, and that feeling seemed mutual. Forget
telling her they needed to slow down. No way would he let her go.

Irisa spent the afternoon
shopping for lingerie, then indulged in a long bath and pampered her skin with
lotions. She slipped on her favorite dress, a deep blue shift that made her
skin glow, and enough jewelry to make her smile. A cluster of thin bangle
bracelets hid a good portion of her wrist bandage.

Dom was waiting for her
when the elevator doors opened on his floor. Nerves charged through her, little
electric pulses jumbling in her blood.

“You look beautiful.” He
reached out a hand for her. His gray shirt and dark jeans fit like they were
custom-made. Maybe they were. Ordinary wasn’t enough for this extraordinary
man. “Come in.”

The apartment seemed
brighter and bigger than it had on her last visit. Furniture polish and
something else, like clean linen, lingered in the air.

Deep barking preceded
Champ
’s
entrance into the room. Dom grabbed his collar before he could leap on her. She
reached down and rubbed his head. “Hi, boy.” In response, Champ licked her
knee.

“It’s wrong that he got
to kiss you before I did.” Dom guided the dog to the hallway and pointed. “Go
to your room.” Champ trotted away.

“He has his own bedroom?”
She laughed.

“He sort of demanded it.”
He came back to her, smiling, and cupped his hands at her waist. His lips
touched hers, light and teasing at first, then deeper and demanding and urgent.

She opened for him,
tasting him, and becoming drunk on his flavor. 

With a mighty groan, he
pulled back.
“Before we go any further, there’s something I want to
ask you.”

“All right.”

He drew her over to the
couch, then sat and pulled her onto his lap.
“What did Oliver
do to you? Even since Zander mentioned it, I can’t stop thinking about it. For
him to be that upset, I keep thinking it’s something awful, and that makes me
want to hurt him.”

Part of her resisted
reliving the tale.
“I really don’t like to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to. It’s
just…you mentioned it’s been a while for you and you wanted to go slow, and”—he
paused, looking entirely uncomfortable—“I know I’m a big guy. I’m strong. I
don’t want you thinking I’d ever push you or rush you or hurt you.”

“It wasn’t anything like
that with him.” She traced her finger over his brow, smoothing away the lines
of worry. What a good man.

His arms came around her,
strong and secure, and her discomfort eased.
“We dated. He went
behind my back and used my connections to land a job at the label. Once he had
that, he dumped me. I found out later that he’d orchestrated everything, from
how he met me, to how he gained my trust, to how he’d copied my date book so
that chance encounters when he’d find me having lunch with someone at the label
weren’t by chance. He’d weasel his way in and charm everyone.”

“He was dumb enough to
admit it to you?”

“I overheard him bragging
to his friend when I showed up at his house to return items he’d left in my
apartment.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He still doesn’t know
that I know. If I’d been smarter, I would’ve realized something was up. It’s
not the first time it’s happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“People have been nice to
me only to get to meet the band, or they’re nice to me because they think it’s
an easy way to get them or their friends or family in with the label.” She
paused and looked at him. “I thought the same about you at first.”

“Me? Because I mentioned
I was a big fan?”

She nodded.
“I
thought you were only being nice to me so you’d get to meet them.”

“Seriously? I’m not that
kind of guy.”

“I figured that out the
night you turned down dinner with the guys to hang out with me.”

“All throughout that
night’s game, I was thinking up ways to get you alone.”

“I was afraid to get
close to you, in case you turned out to be like the others. But I’m so glad
you’re not like them.” She slipped her arms around her neck and kissed his jaw.
“I want to get close to you.”

He stood and clamped his
hands on her hips. The hard lines of his body pressed against her. Strong and
powerful.
“I’m not like that other guy.”

“I know, and I’m glad.”
She wound her hands in his hair. Her gaze focused on his then lowered to his
mouth. “Kiss me?”

He dipped his head to the
curve of her neck and nibbled and licked a path back to her lips. Goosebumps
pebbled her skin. She teased his tongue with hers.

“Wait a second.” He swept
her off her feet and carried her into his darkened bedroom. The slow slide down
his body inflamed every part of her.

His fingers traced along
her waist, up the sides of her body, and around to cup her breasts. A moan
escaped her lips. Needing to touch skin, she glided her hands under his
t-shirt. Fingertips met the ridged muscles of his abdomen. He sucked in a
breath.

Dom slipped her dress
over her head and tossed it onto a chair. She kicked off her shoes and stood
before him in her new red lace bra and matching panties.

His eyes darkened and
hands fisted at his sides. He looked wild, untamed, and appreciative of what
she had hidden under her clothes. He hauled off his shirt and tossed it on the
floor, then stripped down to his boxers. Golden skin covered sculpted muscles.
She laid her hand on the center of his chest. Feeling his heartbeat race for
her made her bold. She sauntered to him and rubbed against him. Heat seeped
through the thin barriers. Every part of him seemed hard and restless. His
hands streaked across her skin, claiming the areas covered in lace. Blunt
fingers teased under the fabric. She closed her eyes on a moan.
“The
baseball critics are right—you do have great hands.”

He chuckled and increased
his pace.

Two could play this game.
With wandering hands, she set out to destroy his control. When she closed over
him, his head dropped forward and he made a sound between a moan and a groan.
“So
good.”

Dom secured his hands
around her waist, and then he backed her toward the bed. After stripping off
her lace and his cotton, he rolled on protection and then followed her down,
sinking into the mattress.

She wrapped her legs
around his waist, ready to feel him. Bracing his hands outside her shoulders,
he sank into her slowly. Dark eyes caught her and held, watching as he slid
home. Irisa fisted her hands in his hair to anchor herself and lifted her hips
in time with him. He increased the pace and thrust into her in hard strokes.
The fire stoked higher and hotter and threatened to burn out of control.

“Dom.”

He claimed her lips and
sent her crashing over the edge. Her release knocked him into a frenzy of harsh
groans and snapping hips. His body tightened and then he buried his head in her
neck as he pulsed inside her.

Breathing hard, he pushed
onto his forearms. Sweat dotted his brow. He traced his fingertip along the
side of her face.
“You okay?”

“Mmm. More than okay.”

“Good.” The mattress
dipped and sprang as he rose. He disposed of the condom, then joined her in
bed. Strong arms wrapped around her and he drew her against him. A cuddler.

She rested her head on
his chest. Falling asleep like this would be perfect. But he might not be
willing to share his bed for the night.
“Do you want me to go?”

His hand stopped
mid-stroke on her back.
“Why would I want you to leave?”

The baffled tone pleased
her and made her feel silly for asking.
“Not everyone likes
sleepovers.”

He nudged her body until
they were eye to eye.
“Don’t even think about getting out of
this bed.” Firm lips rubbed over hers. “How’s that for a definitive answer?”

“Pretty good.” She bit
her lip to hide her smile. He wanted her to stay.

“Just pretty good? Looks
like I have some convincing to do.” He rolled her under him. “You better hold
on tight.”

Warm
sunlight fell across her face. Irisa blinked a few times, orienting herself to
the space. A heavy weight lay across her waist. Dom
’s
arm curled around her, holding her close to his body, even as he slept. She
studied his features and couldn’t stop the smile blooming across her face. He
made her happy.

Champ wandered in and
looked at her, head tilted as though he were waiting for something. He moved to
the door and looked back at her, again waiting. Careful not to wake Dom, she
lifted his arm and eased out of bed. She raised her finger to her lips and
followed the dog out of the room. He padded into the living room and stopped at
the balcony door.

She let him out. He paced
the length of it, then pawed at the door to come back in.

“That didn’t take you
long, did it?” She laughed and rubbed his head. He nuzzled her, then trotted to
the kitchen, again pausing at the door and looking at her.

Maybe he needed water, or
maybe he was lonely. She followed, poured fresh water into his bowl, then eyed
the single-cup coffeemaker, complete with everything she
’d
need on the side. She’d make two and surprise Dom in bed.

Champ joined her as she
doctored the cups with cream and sugar, then trotted ahead of her on the way
back to the bedroom. Dom was still asleep. She set the mugs on his bedside
table. The dog danced around the large room, then leapt onto a chair in the far
corner to gaze out the window. Growling, he jumped down, and the chair
’s
contents fell to the floor. He stayed by the chair, barking.

Irisa shook her head and
crossed the room. Did he see a bug or a mouse? She crept closer.
“Champ,
come here.”

Whining, the dog stayed
in his spot. Reaching a careful hand into the pile, she picked up Dom
’s
t-shirt. A waft of cloying perfume hit her. She lifted the shirt to her nose
and sniffed again. Gagged. And saw the red smear on the collar. Lipstick? Her
stomach heaved.

A brown envelope with her
name, written across in block letters lay on the floor. Frowning, she turned it
over. No return address, just her name. It wasn
’t sealed, and
curiosity compelled her to peek inside. A letter addressed to her and a flash
drive with
Natalie Frye
imprinted across it in
pink.

Natalie Frye.

His ex
’s
name had come up during one of the searches she’d done when she first met Dom.
She scanned the letter.
Dear Ms. Rostov
…my
special friend Dom Torres sweetly offered to put us in touch…pursuing career in
music…demo…enjoy and feel free to share with your industry contacts…

Special friend? Hurt,
betrayal, anger, and rage flashed through her like a pyrotechnics at a concert.
She shoved the letter and flash drive inside the envelope. Mutual friend? How
good of friends were they—with her perfume so strong on his shirt like they
’d
clung to each other for a long time, and lipstick smeared on its collar? And in
his bedroom, no less. Maybe that’s why everything had smelled so clean last
night…air-freshener to cover up evidence of another woman’s presence.

Champ barked and raced to
the bed. She turned, slowly.

Dom was awake and smiling
at her.
“Coffee
in bed? God, you’re perfect.”

“Save it.” She stalked
toward him and heaved the shirt and envelope. “We’re done.” Her clothes were
all over his bedroom floor. She needed to get the hell away.

“What the hell… How did
you…” He got out of bed. “This isn’t what it looks like.” His hand reached for
her.

“Don’t touch me.” Her
words ended on a shriek. She jerked away, wrestling with her bra, then gave up
and pulled her dress on without it. “How could you?”

“It’s not what it looks
like.” His bellow reverberated throughout the room. “She asked me to give it to
you. I said no.”

“Right. Then why do you
still have it? Why is there lipstick and perfume on your shirt? Should I give
you more time to formulate the rest of your story?” Tears formed fast, blurring
her vision. She couldn’t let him see her cry. She tugged on her underwear.
Forget the shoes. All she needed was her purse, and that was by the front door.
She bolted out of the bedroom and into the hall. Toward freedom.

Footsteps slapped against
hardwood. He grabbed her arms and tugged her against him.
“Wait.”

“No!” She fought against
his hold. “I’ve seen enough. How stupid do you think I am? Do you like juggling
multiple women, or is this part of a grander scheme where you use me to get
her
into the industry?
”

“Let me explain.” He
matched her in volume. “I’m not seeing her.”