Her Dom's Lesson (Dominic Powers Book 2) Page 13

  “Every twelve hours as needed for nausea and vomiting.”

  “Are you nauseous?” he asks, eyeing me speculatively.

  “Not at the moment. I actually feel pretty good for a change. You did hear that she said a healthy, vigorous sex life is still okay, right?”

  He smirks, such a sexy grin, “Oh, I heard her, Miss Vasco. Just wait until I get you home.”

  “Thank you, Dominic,” I say. My tone reflects my seriousness as my overwhelming gratitude overcomes me. Pregnancy hormones or not, his nurturing side astounds me.

  “For what?” he asks, clearly puzzled.

  “Everything,” I say simply. “You’ve given me so much without asking for much at all in return. I was broken when I came to you. I’d lost my true self and you helped me find it again. It may be hard to believe, but I wasn’t always so dependent on others. Somehow, I made it through college, internships, and even thriving in a very demanding position at work, but I let Harrison push every self-destruct button I have.

  “The only thing I don’t regret about meeting him is that he sent me to you. I’ve told you many times that I don’t deserve you, but I can never let you go now. I mean that with all my heart, Dominic. Even when we were apart, I picked myself up and carried on because I had to. It wasn’t easy, but I found some of the strength I lost somewhere along the way. That’s because of you.”

  He smiles warmly at me and shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Sophia. Submitting to someone else, allowing them to decide what they do to you, and surrendering your complete trust in such a beautiful act of faith–that is strength. You’ve always had it. You may have misplaced it for a short time, but it’s always been there.”

  Leaning over the center console, I gently stroke his face before placing soft kisses along his jawline. Continuing up to his ear, I gently take his earlobe in my mouth, lick around the edge, and pull it between my teeth and lips. Dominic groans and moves his hand to my leg. Darting my tongue out, I lick down the path from his ear to his collarbone. “You taste so good, Dom,” I murmur against his skin.

  The growl that rumbles through his chest sets me on fire. Sliding my hands down his chest, I skim my fingertips over the ripples in his abdominal muscles and rub my palm across the bulge in his pants. Deftly unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, my hand wraps around him and I begin stroking him up and down.

  Dropping my head into his lap, I take the mushroom shaped tip into my mouth and he moves his hand to the back of my head. As I circle my tongue around the tip of his cock, I’m feeling playful, so I tease him with my mouth. Fully opening my mouth, I lower my head slightly but refuse to take him in fully just yet. Raising my head again, I pay more attention to the underside, flattening my tongue against him from tip to base.

  His fingers grip my hair and he pants, “Baby.” His pleasure-filled tone spurs me on further. Licking my way back to the top, I wrap my lips around him and spiritedly pleasure him. My hand and mouth work in tandem, his hips jerk upward and his grip on my hair tightens in response. Taking him as far in my mouth as I can, I relax my throat muscles and allow him to hit the back of my throat. Moaning, I feel the ripples crash through him as his body stiffens.

  “Fuck, Sophia,” he says between clinched teeth.

  Swallowing, so that the muscles constrict around him, I lightly shake my head from side to side. This earns me another growl of praise. “Holy shit, Sophia!” He sucks in a sharp breath and holds it in. I keep working him, my warm, wet mouth taking his length and girth as much as possible. His one hand that’s still on the steering wheel is fully extended, his knuckles are white from his tight grip, and his hand in my hair is slightly tugging on it.

  “Fuck, it’s hard to focus on the road with your mouth on me,” he praises.

  Increasing the speed and pressure, my head bobs up and down in his lap until he says, through gasps, “I’m…about…to,” before he’s unable to hold back any longer. His release shoots into my mouth and bathing it in his warm, salty taste. I keep going until I’m positive I’ve taken all he has to offer and lick up every last drop. His entire body instantly relaxes as he melts back into his seat.

  When I raise my head up, he looks at me with both surprise and adoration. “What was that for?”

  I smile at him and respond, “You just tasted too good for me to stop.”

  He quirks one eyebrow at me and gives me his sexy smirk. “I know exactly what you mean and I’ll show you as soon as we get home,” he promises

  Tingles run through my body at the thought of what’s in store for me. “You need to hurry and get us back home then.”

  When we walk through the door, I immediately know that our afternoon delight will have to wait a little longer. Tucker and Shadow are at the kitchen table, deep in conversation. Their brows are drawn down and the air in the room is crackling with testosterone. Dominic senses it, too, because his stance immediately changes as he shields me with his body.

  “What is it?” Dominic asks.

  Tucker responds without looking up, “Something you need to see for yourself, Dominic.”

  When Tucker uses his name, it’s always bad. It’s always something that will be more than upsetting. This is his way of establishing they’re on the same team and that Dominic doesn’t have to face the problem alone. Dread and alarm fill me until I feel the anxiety swelling in my throat. Even Shadow has a concerned look on his face and that is definitely not normal.

  “Show me,” Dominic replies stoically.

  “Maybe you should have a seat first, Dominic,” Shadow suggests, but holds out a piece of paper anyway.

  I suddenly can’t breathe. My brain and muscles seem to have forgotten how to draw in oxygen. My feet are rooted to my spot on the floor, my heart is pounding in my chest, and the blood is roaring in ears. Opening my mouth to speak, I can’t form the words. I recognize that paper. How can this be?

  Dominic snatches the paper from Shadow’s hand but doesn’t take a seat. I think he may be somewhat insulted at the suggestion that he would need to take this siting down. For several long minutes, Dominic is eerily silent. I’m not sure he’s breathing either. Shadow and Tucker keep their eyes trained on Dominic, both unable to hide their concern in their normally indifferent expression.

  Dominic’s voice is low, controlled, and downright scary when he asks, “Where did this come from?”

  Tucker meets Dominic’s stare and, with a calmness that betrays his facial expression, he drops a nuclear bomb. “I paid a visit to Harrison’s house today. This was in a file with your name on it.”

  Without another word, Dominic’s confident, determined stride carries him up the stairs and into one of the spare bedrooms. After several minutes, he returns to the kitchen and is holding a second paper, his gun shoulder holster, and his Glock .45. He lays them on the table as he adjusts the holster and pulls it over his head before securing it in place.

  “Boss, let us handle this,” Tucker says soothingly, trying to reason with a very determined dominant man. “It’s best that you stay out of it for now.”

  No one seems to remember that I’m here. My hand found the countertop and I’m gripping it so tightly I’m sure there will be finger indentions in it. Curiosity is killing me. I want to ask what’s on the paper, but I don’t want to at the same time. Looking at it, I instinctively know what it is but not what it says. The only thing I know for sure is that one paper is about to change my life.

  “Tucker, if you think I’m not going to kill that son of a bitch, you’re fucking crazy,” Dom growls.

  “What is it?” I finally manage to speak, my voice meek and unsure, conveying exactly how I feel right now. Three heads whirl in my direction but my eyes are only trained on one of them. Dominic looks slightly confused for a second, as if he’s questioning why I’m here, then his eyes change with realization.

  “Sophia,” he says softly, his voice a stark contrast from the tone he just used with Tucker. He’s searching for the words t
o say. He doesn’t know how to tell me without hurting me. His eyes stray to my stomach and my hand quickly draws up to protect our baby. He drops his eyes to the floor just in front of me and I feel my heart break because he won’t look at me–he can’t look at me.

  “What is it?” I ask more forcefully, drawing my shoulders up to stand tall. I’m no one’s doormat. I willingly submit to Dominic because he’s earned my trust, he takes care of me, and he shows me he loves me. After the events of the last several minutes, I’m not feeling real submissive and it doesn’t appear that I’m his first priority.

  Dominic takes a step toward me and I take a step backward while slowly shaking my head back and forth. I will not be placated with “trust me” or “everything’s okay” this time. Dominic’s head drops to the paper still held in his hand. He takes a deep breath and fully exhales it, clearly still torn on what to say. In my peripheral, I can see Shadow and Tucker looking at me with a mixture of compassion and pity.

  “It’s the second page of Carol Ann’s letter to me. The page that has been missing,” Dominic replies solemnly.

  My heart ceases to pump in my chest.

  Dominic

  Sir,

  I can’t believe we have been together for a whole year. So much has happened in our short time together. I often feel that I’ve brought more sadness than happiness to your life. You have brought me nothing but happiness and I want you to always remember that. No matter what storms have hit, you have been my steadfast rock in the turbulent seas.

  Never doubt the good you’ve done for me. Never doubt my appreciation for you. And never doubt my love for you. I’m paralyzed at the thought of losing you and I know I could never live without you. Through all of my problems, it’s been your love that has pulled me through. I love you, My Sir, and there’s nothing about our life together that I regret. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused for you.

  I memorized those words and can recite them backwards in my sleep. The rest of the letter, the page that Tucker just handed me, is now seared into my memory. The conclusion of Carol Ann’s thoughts on the worst fucking day of my life will haunt my dreams, interrupt my sleep, and forever be cursed by the ‘what-if’s’.

  What if I had just stayed home that day?

  What if I had made it home earlier?

  What if….

  I’m frozen in time as I read her words. Picturing her in my mind, I can see her face as she writes each line. She’s sitting at the desk, her left arm at a ninety-degree angle as her hand supports her head. The right side of her lip is between her teeth as she concentrates on her wording. She lives in these words and I can feel her emotions bubbling up and spilling over onto the page.

  Through all of our troubles and trials, one thing has remained constant: our love. It has never waxed or waned. Not when my parents objected to us not being married before living together. Not when my brother tried to shame us for our choices. Not even when my fear of leaving the house put a damper on socializing or traveling.

  I made a new resolution today and, with you, I will keep it tomorrow. Enough of my life has been lived in fear and shame. No more. You’ve asked me to go with you on business trips before but I wasn’t able to go. I want to go with you on your next trip. I want to spend every minute with you that I possibly can. Tomorrow, I want you to take me shopping for new clothes.

  Oh, and some of them will have to be maternity clothes. 

  With all the love in my heart –

  Carol Ann

  (P.S. I didn’t really drink the champagne.)

  Chapter Fourteen

  Carol Ann was ripped from my arms, my life, and my heart way too early. Now, reading these words, I can’t help but think about all the ways my life has been forever changed in the blink of an eye. I mourned her death, I blamed myself, I questioned my Dom abilities–but I was robbed of the time to mourn my unborn child.

  My paternal rights were denied in every imaginable way. I would never see that baby born, teach it the things only a father can, and watch it grow every single day. My baby that Carol Ann carried has never been recognized, named, or even memorialized in death. Robbed–of all the things that can never be and all the things that should have been.

  The rage hits me like a freight train and my sole purpose has become killing Harry Dick-man. A terrible and violent death is too good for him, but that’s what he’ll receive nonetheless. Without a clue as to where he is hiding, I bolt up the stairs to retrieve my gun.

  When I reach the top of the landing, I have a sudden need to retrieve the first page of the letter from Carol Ann. It was one of the things I saved from the house fire–one of the few personal items that survived. After I double-check that the handwriting and the paper match, I unlock the secret safe and grab my Glock .45 and my shoulder holster.

  He is dead. He just doesn’t know it yet and he won’t know I’m there until I want him to know.

  Bounding back down the stairs with my possessions in hand, I lay them down on the table, ready to double check the clip before I head out to find him. I’ve zoned everything else out in my red haze of fury. I’m barely cognizant of Tucker trying to talk me out of what he knows I’m planning. After leveling him with my don’t-fuck-with-me stare and response, I continue with my plan.

  Until I hear a small voice calling from behind me.

  Sophia.

  The shock of that page completely floored me and I had thought of nothing else until she spoke. Her voice pulled me back from the deep pits of the revenge that I was plotting. Looking at her now, the shame fills me at how quickly I changed from the man who just brought her home from the doctor’s office to the man who forgot everyone and everything else in his life.

  Doctor’s office.

  My eyes drop to her midsection and I think about the baby that Sophia now carries. My baby, my blood, my life. My need for vengeance is completed deflated now and all I want to do is hold Sophia in my arms. An unconscious signal sent from my brain makes my feet move toward Sophia, the exact direction my heart naturally gravitates to anyway. But she moves backward, away from me, and shakes her head ‘no.’

  She knows and I’ve hurt her terribly, but she stands proud and demands to know what I’m still gripping in my hand. The doctor has just said she’s lost too much weight. We had to pick up prescription medication to help her even eat to keep herself and the baby nourished. The last thing I want to do is add to her stress by telling her anything about this.

  But I can’t lie to her.

  “It’s the second page of Carol Ann’s letter to me. The page that has been missing,” I painfully admit.

  The color drains from her face and she stands transfixed. Raking my hand through my hair, I blow out a frustrated huff of breath. Seeing my reaction to this letter cut her deeply, I know this without a doubt. It will appear to her that my feelings for Carol Ann are ruling me and that my feelings for her are inferior. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

  “Sophia, are you feeling sick? Do you need your medicine?” I purposely keep my voice gentle.

  Her chin begins to quiver but she’s fighting the tears with every ounce of pride she has in her. Taking a deep, calming breath, her countenance changes and her features become hard. I can see her shields going up to protect herself from further pain. What she doesn’t understand is I’ll do whatever she needs me to just to keep that pain from her.

  Her next question hits me in the chest like a twenty-pound sledgehammer.

  “Why would Harrison have that page of her letter if it was in your condo when she died?”

  The breath has been knocked out of my lungs and my mind spins with various scenarios, but none of them are plausible. In my shock of just now learning that Carol Ann was pregnant, and in my haste to exact revenge, my only consideration was that Harrison kept this from me for the past two years. The interrogatives of the details didn’t even occur to me–that’s how far gone I was in my own world.

  The distant sound of a chair scraping against
the floor comes from behind me, but there’s no connection between it and my brain. All the questions swirling in my head are so loud, it’s as if there are fifty people talking at once all around me. Strong hands grip my shoulders, push me downward, and my legs obey. My eyes are grounded to Sophia’s but I can’t even respond intelligently.

  “Dominic, let me have that,” Tucker says as he pulls the letter from my hand.

  Snapping out of my stupor, I realize Sophia has asked the million-dollar question. Exactly how did Harrison get that page? Carol Ann hid it in our apartment. Granted, it was in a spot she knew I would find it, but that was all part of our game.

  “I don’t know how he got it, Sophia. But I need to find out.”

  “What does it say?” She narrows her eyes and dares me to lie to her.

  “You can read it, I won’t keep it from you. But I’d rather you didn’t for a few more weeks, until we’re well past the first trimester.” I could be more forceful by outright saying she can’t read it, but that would cause her just as much doubt and anxiety. “I’m asking you to please wait, Sophia.”

  Her eyes fill with tears but she blinks them back, swallows the heart I know that is in her throat, and extends her hand toward me, palm up. Her hand is shaking, without a doubt scared to read it, but equally scared to not read it.

  “Guys, can you give us a minute?” I ask Shadow and Tucker as I stand and pick up the letter. Their reply is to leave the house completely. Knowing Tucker, they are just waiting on the front porch to give us a little privacy.

  “Sophia, I need to explain my reaction to this letter before you get upset over it,” I begin. “All I could think of was that this part of the letter has been in Harrison’s hands for the past two years. All this time that I’ve questioned my worth as a Dom, questioned what I could’ve done for Carol Ann, and even that Harrison blamed me for her death. He could’ve spared me all of that.”

  “Let. Me. Read. It,” she challenges.