The Dominator (34 page)

Then I curled into him. I was emotionally and physically totally and utterly spent. He was stroking my hair, rubbing my back, raining soft kisses on me until I fell asleep.

** ** **

I woke up hearing music playing. I sat up. Tommy was sitting at the back of the loft, denim-clad legs dangling out the opened doors, a guitar in his arms. The sun was setting over the pond and the sky was a brilliant orange. The view was dazzling. Seeing his strong naked back and hearing the strumming made for an even more beautiful view.

I got up and threw my t-shirt over my head and off and on top of my skirt that laid on the floor beside my flip flops, which he must have gone and fetched for me, then I put his discarded dove grey dress shirt on, did up the buttons, then padded to where he was. I sat on the floor behind him, putting my legs on either side of his hips so that my calves were over the edge, and I rested my cheek on his bare back. He continued to play and I recognized the tune.  Wild Horses by the Rolling Stones. He played beautifully, soulfully. The sky, the sounds, the smell of the warm air, the smell of him, feeling his warm smooth skin under my cheek, I was inexplicably glad that I was here with him.  I actually felt free for a moment. When he finished playing it, I recognized the next song as Iris, from the Goo Goo Dolls. It was one of my favorites.

Tommy

I knew it’d been brewing since before Mexico but today sealed it for me. I wanted her to want to be mine so bad I was willing to do just about anything to get her there. I wanted to take all the things that were fucked up in her life and erase them. I wanted to reboot our relationship.

I wanted to make the sun set and rise for her. I wanted to protect her. I wanted her to love me. I’d never felt this way before. It created fear and a fierce protective instinct in me that I’d never before experienced, but right now her body against me, watching the setting sun, and inhaling the summer night air we were breathing…this was it. This was all I needed. She’d come to me on her own and put her arms around me again, just like she’d done in the shower the other night. This was what I wanted. This. Not more money, not more power, just this. It was like I’d been missing something in my life that I didn’t know I was missing until her.

I wanted to dole out pain and punishment all the time. All the fucking time. But today she wanted pain from me. It was beautiful to me to see that and meant I didn’t want to give it to her. I made her want something from me, something only I could give her. She didn’t even name what she wanted from me and I didn’t want to give it a name, either. I just knew it was so satisfying --- even more than I’d expected. I wanted this time away to be different but I knew soon we’d go back to exploring her willingness to travel down darker corridors with me. Right now, I just wanted her to relax and forget everything she’d been upset about. I wanted her to feel safe, to enjoy being with me. I wanted that and I wanted her to want what only I could give her.

I put my guitar down and looked ahead.  She was still behind me, her legs on either side of mine, and her cheek on my back. A breeze picked up a little and her silky hair blew up around my face. I inhaled and caught the scent of oats, honey, and vanilla.  Her arms came around my waist and she flattened her palms against me, the right one across my abdomen, and the left across my chest. I looked down and saw her engagement ring on her finger and something welled up inside of me. I held my breath to hold back the overwhelming emotion surging through me.

We sat and watched the sun go down the rest of the way in silence. It was like the whole world was silent for a moment.

Finally, it was dark.  I twisted and she let go of me and backed up. I think she thought I meant to get up but instead I climbed on top of her on the floor. I gave her a long, sensual, deep kiss, running my fingers through her hair, cupping her chin. I wanted to devour her. I held that desire back.

Tia

After he kissed me, hovering over me on the floor, he got to his feet and helped me up. Then he pulled a screen blind down over the opened barn door area and fastened it to the floor with snaps, I guess, to keep the bugs out. The little table with two chairs was not far from the back doors and on top of it sat the cooler and picnic basket. He lifted the basket down to the floor and opened the cooler and took out a few plastic lidded food containers and then a bottle of wine and motioned to the basket with his chin, giving me a little smile. He was smiling more often since we’d arrived here. That smile was so beautiful it made me feel almost giddy inside.

I opened the basket and reached in. I laid out a big square blue and white checked table cloth on the little round table and pulled two wine glasses from the leather straps holding them to the lid and set them on the table and then set out the two plates and two sets of cutlery as well as linen napkins that matched the table cloth.  Tommy reached in and pulled out a candle stick and candle holder and fetched a barbecue lighter from a tall and weathered-looking armoire near the table and lit the candle. Then he poured wine while I layered cold breaded chicken, garden and potato salads from their containers onto the plates. There was also a lidded container full of fruit salad and a mason jar filled with a fragrant balsamic salad dressing.

Tommy put his phone on the table and
Holding Back the Years
by Simply Red played. We sat at the table and he lifted his wineglass up.  I lifted mine.

“To beautiful sunsets,” he said.

“To beautiful sunsets.” I repeated.

“And winning at hide and seek or tag or whatever that was,” he added, watching me closely.

“Congratulations, champ, but I’d say there were no losers in
that
game,” I dipped my glass in his direction and then took a sip.

He winked at me and had the biggest smile on his face. We dug in to the delicious food.

After a few minutes of serious chowing down of Nita’s gorgeous food, I came up for air, “So, no one knows about this place?”

He nodded, swallowed a mouthful of wine, and said, “Nope. Every guy needs a retreat. Every guy in my line of work needs a safe house. So this is both for me.”

“But you brought
me
here,” I said, “Isn’t that against man cave rules?”

“Rules schmules.” He reached across the table and took my hand, “We needed to get away. I think maybe we should stay tomorrow night, too. Totally detox. But I’ll have to call in tomorrow and see what’s up before I’ll know if I can do an extra day. Would you wanna do that?”

“Sure,” I answered.

“Cool. We’ll stop by and see the Crenshaws tomorrow. Then if everything’s kosher we’ll come back. If not, we’ll go back to the house.”

“Okay.”

“Sooo,” I said after a few minutes of silence. There was a weird vibe coming off him. It was intense. I wanted things light and airy, “How long have you had this place and your house?”

He swallowed, wiped his mouth with a napkin, took a sip of wine, then answered, “Pop bought me the house a few months back. I’ve had this place a year and a half. Before the house, I lived in a condo down near the office. I started renting that out to my brother when Pop bought me the house.”

“He bought you a house?”

“For my 29
th
birthday, yep. Should’ve known that was the prelude to getting married.”

I frowned at him, “You don’t have to get married if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he said and reached for my hand.

Awkwardness crackled in the air.

“Do you like the house?” he asked after the awkward moment didn’t pass.

“It’s a bit sterile. But it has potential. It’s the exact sort of house my mother would’ve picked from the outside.”

“Feel free to inject some personality,” he said.

I raised my brows at him.

“I’m serious. After the wedding or now, whatever. A few projects to keep you busy, right? And if you don’t love it, we’ll buy something else.”

I must have made a face with distaste because he looked a little like he’d deflated.

“Listen,” he said, “I know things are different from what you planned but instead of mourning those plans, why not get excited about possibilities?”

“I wanted to get my degree. I…”

“Get it. Do online school.”

Not exactly the same as the college experience.

“Then I wanted to work in social work.”

“You won’t need to work. We have money.”

“We?”

“You and me,” he answered.

We?

“I wanted to.” I said softly.

“Nothing’s really off the table, babe. Once things are settled you can take on charity projects. Start your own charity, hell, I don’t know, start your own business. As soon as things are settled and safe we can talk about what you want. Nothing is off the table right now, just be open to this, to us. Please?”

His saying
please
touched something in me. I stared at the flickering candlelight for a few minutes. Then he squeezed my hand and got up from the table, taking me with him. He leaned over and fiddled with his phone pulled me to him, music started and he twirled me a little, then started to slow dance, pulling me against his chest and kissing the top of my head. I felt shivers climb up my spine. Just a bar in the song registered in my brain, “At Last” by Etta James, I felt my knees almost buckle because wow. Wow.

I knew, back to when I was a little girl, that if I ever found my dream man, if I ever got married this song would be it. This song would be
the
wedding song, the first song I’d have my very first dance with my new husband to. I’d never told anyone that. Nobody.

He tucked my head under his chin and he moved us around so gracefully that it was almost as if I could dance, too. It was as if we’d practiced. Tears stung, unshed, in my eyes and emotion tried to claw its way up my throat but I tried to hold it together.

I’d thought when I saw him that first time at the ice cream parlor that he had the looks and the swagger of my absolute dream man but I thought he was totally unattainable. Older than me, more sophisticated, above my station. Then I met him the day I graduated and thought he was my worst nightmare.  Now where was I? I didn’t know. I’d hated him, I’d surrendered to him sexually, I’d tried to escape him, then it all went horribly wrong when I was kidnapped and then he’d rescued me from a fate worse than him and I’d clung to him like he
was
my hero. I’d warmed up to him a bit. Maybe more than a bit.

Tommy Ferrano was the man of my dreams but he was also the man of my nightmares.

What if I hadn’t been taken that day; what would he have done once he got me back in the house? What sort of punishment would I have faced for taking off from his sister? Did my kidnapping change him? Was he capable of change? Was he capable of being loving and giving and sweet all the time or was I getting a temporary reprieve from the angry, punishing control freak who wanted to play scary sex games and mind fuck games?

Just how dark and evil was he? How many people had he killed? What kind of illegal stuff did his family participate in? Was he involved in profiting from the sex slave rings he’d threatened me with?

This morning when we were shot at and he turtled over me and it did something to me. Something I couldn’t quite name but it was like the night he rescued me in Mexico he’d sliced me open and then when he climbed onto me this morning to protect me, that open wound still there, he climbed right inside of it, of me. But because of the way he’d seesaw between dark and light I felt like I was always on eggshells. The light was nice; it almost verged on puppies and rainbows in my heart sometimes. The dark was scary. But then the dark could also be exciting. I’d even invited it, with volunteering to play sex games, with provoking him. What was my problem? Was I just a stupid little girl playing games out of my depth? Yes, way out of my depth. Way.

He sang into my ear the very last line of the song, “For you are mine, at last.” Then he looked into my eyes and the loft was silent and nearly dark except for the little glimmer of candlelight from the table and the stars outside the opened doors, or no wait, those were fireflies twinkling out over the field or the pond. Fireflies. Oh, man! How could I keep my guard up at this rate?

It was a magical moment, dancing in candlelight and firefly light, wearing only his shirt, him half naked and gorgeous, up where there was no one but us, in his special place that he’d only ever shared with me, and he was full of light right now, not darkness.  For someone who didn’t do relationships he sure knew how to set a romantic scene. The music stopped and we were still dancing, dancing to the sound of nature outside.

If it could often be just like this, would it be enough for me?  Would I be able to live under his regime, under his rules, in a world of crime and danger?  Did I have a choice in the matter? How dangerous was his life? What sorts of illegal things did he do? I still didn’t even really know.

He was still looking into my eyes; I was looking into his. It was like we were both stripped bare. He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckle just above where the engagement ring sat.  Then he looked at the ring for a beat and dropped to one knee, making my heart skip a beat, “Tia, I want you. I want you to be mine forever. Not because you clear a debt, not because I have to get married to take over for my father. I want to marry you because…” He stopped and looked away for a second. Then he looked up at me again and took a slow breath and said, “I’m about to say something to you that I’ve never said to another woman so know that when you hear this.”