Sweet Seduction Sacrifice (27 page)

"Yes," he clipped. "Every room except the bathrooms."

"They watch you with your women?" I asked, my voice somehow rising in pitch and volume with each word.

"What women?" he asked, frowning. Then shook his head to dismiss the question completely. "They switch the monitors off when I'm in the bedroom, standard SOP."

"But when I was alone in there?" Still voice high and loud.

"They would have kept an eye on you," he replied coolly, and then a slow smile spread his lips. "Why? What did you get up to? Do I need to request a copy of the footage from Eric?"

I blinked at him. He could go from killer-lawyer, to iced-lawyer, to heated-man-with-hooded-lids within seconds. It was kind of impressive if not a little startling.

"You're crazy," I declared, ignoring the building heat in his eyes and coming off his body. "Nobody
wires
their house to that degree. Who the hell heard of having cameras in the bedroom, unless you're kinky. Are you kinky? No, don't answer that, I don't want to know. The fact that you have cameras through your house is not kinky, it's psychotic. You're psychotic. You've obviously got some sort of security hang-up, maybe it's because you're a lawyer and you see what fucked up things people can get up to, but whatever it is, you've got to know it's not sane. This
behaviour
is not sane. There's something wrong with you and I want to get as far away as possible." I took a deep breath in, either to recover from that tirade or to prepare for the next sentence, it was difficult to tell. "Please get off me."

He was still smiling, it had turned amused. But he didn't get off me, he lowered his body until he was flush against mine, entirely. Chests, stomachs, hips, groins, legs. Top to bottom touching. I held my breath.

"Have you finished psychoanalysing me?" he said in a soft voice. I nodded, somehow I thought that question required an answer, it was only after I did it that I realised he didn't really care. He'd already moved on to the next topic. "Lets get a couple of things straight. I am not insane. I have never been certified crazy. Although I am beginning to wonder if I am a little crazy contemplating a relationship with you." He said relationship. Lack of oxygen had made me hear things that simply were not true. "There are valid reasons why my house is wired to such a degree - your words, not mine - that I do not wish to discuss at this point in time. The bottom line is, it is the safest place for you to be, and although Katie doesn't know that,
you
should have trusted me. Do you really think I'd leave you alone in my house if I didn't think it was one hundred percent safe?"

I stared at him, he glared back, his look alone demanding an answer.

"You're intense," I stated, because that was forefront in my mind and my mouth simply grabbed it and ran with it. "I've never met anyone like you. You scare me. You confound me." And now would be a good time to shut the fuck up. "You totally bamboozle me."

"Bamboozle," he said on a smile. "I like that, but you're distracting me from the question at hand. I asked you to trust me, yet time and again you don't. Why is that, Genevieve? Is it because of your ex? How he let you down and you can't seem to bring yourself to trust another? I'm not Brett Elliott. I'm nothing like him. You need to see that."

"Now look who's psychoanalysing," I shot back, feeling decidedly uncomfortable with how accurate his analysis was.

"Sweetheart," he said, shifting to rest on his left elbow, his right hand cupping my face tenderly. "Give us a chance. Trust me. We'll get through this, we'll get Elliott sorted and we'll get your life back. I have every intention of being a part of it when we do. Know this, the more you push me away, the more intrigued I become. I haven't had this much fun in a long time, Genevieve. I'm not about to walk away from something so delightfully addictive any time soon, so
stop
running."

I wanted to believe him. Dear God, I wanted to believe him. He was almost too good to be true when he said things like this. Maybe it was because he was a lawyer and words came naturally to him. But it felt like he meant them. It felt like everything he said came from deep inside. I just couldn't understand how
this
Dominic related to the Dominic who'd take a phone call and leave without saying good-bye.

He sighed, exasperatedly, above me, clearly seeing my thoughts on my face. I was going to have to get better at hiding my emotions. But even if that worked, my mouth had a tendency to blow any cover I strove to hide behind. Already he knew too much about what I felt for him. Already my stupid mouth had given too much away. So, I decided I'd just stop talking altogether. Better to be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all shadow of doubt. I'd read that somewhere. Now would be a good time to take that advice.

"You're impossible," he said. It was definitely laced in exasperation still, but was spoken in a soft voice. He moved his hand down and plucked at his T-shirt - the one I had stolen last night and worn to bed. "And mine, whether you accept it yet or not." He smiled broadly at me as I glared back, lips zipped firmly shut. "And adorable when you're angry." I furrowed my brows further, it was starting to ache across my forehead, but I could be stubborn when I wanted to. "Christ," he said on that cough-which-could-have-been-a-laugh sound. "You have absolutely no idea." And
that
was said as though to himself; incredulously, wonderingly, quietly.

I bit my lip. He growled. And then his mouth was on mine, his tongue sweeping across my bottom lip - and like every other time he'd done it, as though I was a bloody hussy - I parted them and let his tongue inside. I groaned, he groaned, our hands started exploring each other. One of mine up into his thick, dark hair, the other all over his very fine chest and abdomen. His hand attached to the elbow he was resting on, twisted into the strands of my hair, tugging gently to make my head move to the side, allowing him unhindered access to my mouth at just the right angle. The other hand under my T-shirt -
his
T-shirt - and already tweaking my nipple. I got the impression he liked heading there as soon as things began to progress.

A voice inside my head warned that this was
not
where I wanted things to go, but my body said to hell with that and wrapped itself around him, arching my back, grinding back against his very impressive erection and generally acting like a cat in heat. He didn't seem to mind, his own movements frantic with desire, his mouth hard against mine, his tongue plunging in and out, and in and out, in a motion that strangely made me wetter with each hot plunge inside. His hips rocking back and forth in a faster and faster rhythm, sweeping us up in a tidal wave we had no hope of surviving.

Within seconds, things were out of control. My T-shirt was gone, we were naked chest to naked chest, his hands had moved, one to the back of my neck, supporting my head as he kissed me, almost ate me from the mouth down, the other between our hips, rolling around at exactly the right delicious spot to make me writhe. A few sweeps on the outside, a thumb and forefinger pinch that made me shout out in surprise, and then he thrust two long fingers inside making me gasp.

"Christ, you're wet," he breathed against my lips. "Is that all for me?" I rolled my eyes at him and caught the amused glint in
his
eyes in return. "Wouldn't want to waste it," he whispered against my lips, and then his fingers withdrew and my mind stuttered in protest, but within a couple of seconds - which felt way too long - his body pressed back against mine and even through the fog in my mind, I recognised he'd removed his boxers and we were now completely naked in bed.

One hand slipped down and lifted my leg out slightly to the side to allow him to settle between my legs, his erection strained between us, the flat tip butting up against my centre. I wanted this so badly, I'd dreamt about it for the past two nights. Most of the time telling myself I shouldn't go there, the rest of the time wishing I could. And here we were, about to do it. I was about to feel what it was like to have him move inside me, to stretch me, to
fill
me. He'd said we'd do it against the wall, but right then I didn't give a rat's arse about any wall, I just wanted him. For one moment in time I'd let myself believe, that I
could
have him. That he was mine.

I knew I was walking on dangerous ground, I knew this could all blow up in my face. But there was no way I could walk away now, not when his hard, hot, naked body was pressed against mine. Or when his very talented tongue swept inside my mouth, or his teeth nibbled on my bottom lip, or when his hands made magic happen across my skin. My body was on fire, my heart was pounding in my chest, my breath was laboured and all I wanted was
him
.

I tilted my hips to allow him better access, he muttered, "Christ," into my hair and I felt him shift to enter. Our hands and lips and entire bodies moving, ready for the moment we connected in the most intimate of ways. He pulled back to look me in the eyes, I knew why he did it. He wanted to see me when he sank himself deep inside. I wanted that too. I held his gaze, time seemed suspended...

...and then the door banged open and Katie announced, "Out of bed sleepy head, it's a bright a sunshiny day." There was a pause, Dominic had frozen, I think I had too. Then, "Oh crap!" Katie said with meaning. "I am so sorry." The door clicked shut at her back.

We didn't move, the moment was definitely ruined. Katie - lovely, sweet, adorable, Katie - was as good as a bucket of ice cold water.

"I'll, ah, start breakfast," she said through the door. Dominic groaned and rolled over to his side of the bed, pulling me with him by simply placing one arm around my neck. My face ended up snug into his throat, my body flush against the length of him. "Take your time. No hurry," she added.

"Katie?" Dominic said, his forearm covering his face.

"Yes, darling?" came her slightly muffled reply.

"Go the fuck away!" he semi shouted back.

"Right," she said. "Got it. I'll, ah, go the fuck away, then."

We lay there expecting to hear another outburst from Dominic's sister, but after several seconds all was still silent from the other side of the door.

"I think she's gone," I announced into his throat. He wasn't letting me move further away.

"I'm going to kill her," he said softly.

"She didn't know," I argued, somewhat relieved, but Katie was definitely going on my Christmas Card list now.

"Doesn't matter," he declared. "She should have knocked."

"And that would have altered things, how?" I demanded, sure even a knock would have put a dampener on things.

"Then she wouldn't have seen my naked arse, poised to thrust myself deep inside your wet and waiting pussy. That is something I do not need my sister seeing. Ever."

He had a point. Still, I couldn't help feeling grateful to Katie. My mind had cleared from the Dominic sex-god fog that had engulfed it, and I now realised how bad things could have been. My heart was already in hundreds of tattered ribbons, doing the nasty with the man would simply obliterate what was left, when he stabbed it with a knife and returned to his cellphone woman waiting in the wings.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly and somewhat bizarrely reading my thoughts.

"What? How did you..? What?" Yeah, eloquent I was not.

"You're tensing, ready to run, and my guess is because you think I'd have sex with you and then do something to hurt you. Because that's what he did, isn't it?" I didn't answer when he paused as though expecting me to. He eventually went on. "What I want to know, sweetheart, is what you think it is I'm going to do, that has you so scared to give me your heart?"

I blinked a few times, frantically trying to get my thoughts to line up and make some kind of sense. To come up with an argument, a deflection, a shield of some description,
anything
, that would throw him off the scent. The longer I spent in his company, the more of me he
saw
. This could only ever end one way. With me broken, my heart destroyed on the floor.

Because he was right, I had given my heart to Brett and for a while Brett let me think it was safe. I lowered my guard and gave him more and more with each passing day. And then he annihilated it. Completely and utterly demolished it.

And any trust I ever would have in a man again.

And lets face it, Dominic wasn't exactly convincing me that stance was wrong. Cellphone calls that pulled him away without a good-bye. He was hiding something, his chance to come clean passed this morning, while he lay half-naked in my bed, trying to persuade me I had no reason to run, but not explaining why.

I disentangled myself from his embrace and reached over the side of the bed to slip his T-shirt back on. For the first time since I stole it last night, wishing I had something else to wear. I'm not sure if he was watching me, he didn't stop me, he didn't reach out and touch me, and I didn't look back to see if any of that could have happened or not.

I grabbed my overnight bag and practically ran into the attached bathroom, closing the door behind me and searching for a lock. There wasn't one, so I dragged a stool over and shoved it under the door handle, TV style, making a shit-load of noise. Then I turned the shower taps on to fill the ensuing silence and slunk down to the cold floor.