DOMINIC (Dragon Security Book 3) (5 page)

Son of a bitch!

***

I dozed, I think. But I mostly lay there and watched him sleep, thinking about all the times we’d lain together in the past, usually with me as the one with my back to him instead of like this with his back to me. He would spoon with me, pulling me against him until I was all encompassed by the length of his body. I always felt safe with him. Now…I wasn’t sure what I felt.

I was so confused. The way he talked about Emily…there was respect in his voice. But then he said I was the only one who turned him on the way I’d done. Why would he say that when it was so disrespectful to Emily? Didn’t he care about her?

I don’t know…I wanted to believe he wasn’t in love with her the way he was with me. But I didn’t want him to not love her. That seemed wrong, too. I didn’t know how to feel about the whole thing.

I knew I was jealous that he clearly knew she was in Arlington when I didn’t. I was jealous that he got this almost adoring look in his eyes whenever he talked about her. I was pissed that he spoke to her before she died and I…I could have done something to help her if I’d known. I could have found her, got help for her, if I hadn’t been so consumed with anger.

I didn’t want to be angry anymore. I wanted to know what happened to my sister.

Dominic had been asleep maybe a two, three hours when he suddenly cried out in his sleep. He jerked, his body stiffening at an odd angle. Then he cried out again.

“Dom,” I said, leaning close to him, touching his shoulder. “You’re okay, Dominic. Wake up!”

He cried out again and spun around, his hand closing on my throat so quickly that I had no warning. But almost the second he did it, he recognized me and pulled back, sitting up on his haunches.

“I’m sorry,” he said, running both hands over his head. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No.” I sat up and reached for him, but my hand was cuffed to the headboard at such an angle that I couldn’t quite reach him. A pained look crossed his face when he saw that. He dug into his pocket and leaned close to me to remove the cuffs, his body pressed against mine for a long second as he worked the lock.

I touched his throat, running my hand slowly over the frantic beat of his pulse. And then I ran my thumb over his chin, touching his bottom lip with just the pad. I’d missed him. I knew I did; I knew that it was no coincidence that when I closed my eyes at night that it was his face that floated there. But I hadn’t realized how completely I missed him.

I loved him. He was the man I was going to build my future around. No matter what happened between us, I still loved him.

He got the cuff loose, and I pressed that hand, the cuffs still dangling from my wrist, against his chest. He groaned softly.

“Don’t, Amy.”

He took my wrists and pushed me back, climbing off of the bed.

“What happened to you?”

He hesitated, but he didn’t turn.

“What were you dreaming about? What did they do to you over there?”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then he turned and tossed the key to me.

“Get dressed. We have somewhere to be.”

He went into the bathroom, the sound of the shower immediately filling the small room. I removed the cuff and got up, padding slowly to the bathroom. I peeked around the partially open door and saw him climb into the shower, the length of his naked body thick and perfectly sculpted. When I knew him, he was nineteen, young and firm. But now…the military had built him up, made him buffer than he’d ever been before. But there were new things, tattoos and scars that hadn’t been there before. Again I was struck with this sense that he was so familiar, but so alien all at the same time.

Was he still my Dominic? Or had the military and time changed him into someone else?

Was it those changes that had driven him into my sister’s arms?

I stood there like some sort of voyeur and watched him bathe through the opaque shower door. He stood under the spray for a long time, clearly washing exhaustion away. Then he used the cheap, tiny sliver of soap the motel provided to wash himself and his hair. He opened the shower door, and I slipped the towel from around my body to offer him.

He stared at me, his cock—already partially erect—quickly responding to the sight of my nudity.

“Amy…”

I went to him, touching the tattoo above his heart that was a date only he and I would know, my fingers tracing the fancy scrolled numbers.

“When did you get this?”

He took hold of my wrist and pulled my hand back.

“Don’t do this.”

“What if it’s what I want? Will you deny me that, too?”

He only hesitated a heartbeat. He pushed me back, trapping me up against the narrow vanity that held the stained and cracked sink. His mouth was on mine, stealing what had always been his, his tongue slipping past my partially parted lips as if it belonged right where it was. He trapped my arms behind my back, his free hand sliding over my breasts, his fingers tweaking and twisting my nipples, drawing moans from between my lips. And his knee was forcing my legs apart, making me open to him in every way possible.

I wanted to touch him. I leaned into him, my breath coming in quick gasps, my need so intense that my body had forgotten how to do something as simple as breathe. I wanted to draw him to me, wanted to wrap my hand around his familiar length and pull him inside of me. My body knew him and had missed him in ways that I couldn’t really wrap my mind fully around. He was my first, my only. And I desperately needed to feel the pleasure that only he could offer.

He leaned me back, his mouth moving over my throat, his teeth tugging at the thin skin over my trachea. It was painful, but so good all at the same time. I moved my hips, telling him with my body that I was ready, that I wanted him. He pressed his head against me, acting as if he was going to take me, but then he backed off. I groaned and he sighed, moving back up along my throat to nibble at my ear.

“Tell me,” he whispered. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

He groaned, as he stole my mouth again.

I felt his fingers brush me as he reached between our bodies to guide himself inside of me. The pressure was incredible, the feel of him pressed against me, asking for permission to enter. I wrapped my legs around him and tugged a little, moving my hips until he had no option but to thrust forward, to push his thick cock deep inside of me. I cried out as his mouth moved back down to my throat, the heat of his breath sending shivers of pleasure up and down my spine. He let go of my hands in favor of grabbing my ass in both of his and lifting me partially off of the vanity, encouraging me to move hard against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, moaning as he moved into a quick rhythm, thrusting hard against me as I ground my hips against his. My clit felt like it was going to explode, even as he touched things inside of me that made my toes curl and my heart pound.

We were both lost in the pleasure of each other’s bodies, pulling and tugging at each other, our mouths giving voice to things we never would have expressed in any other situation. I could feel my orgasm building. I pulled him closer, moving my hips so that he barely had to move to get the friction just right. And then I cried out, my body quivering with the waves that blew through me. He held me, standing still as he waited for the moment to pass. I’d never truly appreciated before how difficult that must be for him. But I could see it now, the color in his face and the tension in his jaw, his shoulders, his ass. He watched me through hooded eyes, need radiating like heat from a fire.

When my body began to relax, the orgasm slowing, he untangled himself from my grip and turned me around, bending me slightly over the vanity. Then he entered me again from behind, his hands on my hips as he began to pound against me, forcing my thighs against the edge of the sink with incredible force. The pain mixed with pleasure, with the friction of his fingers on my clit. Another orgasm began to build as he lost control, pounding so hard that I would later have bruises across the front of my thighs.

He cried out as he reached his pinnacle, grinding his teeth against the intensity of his pleasure. I could feel him swell just a little more; I could feel the heat of his orgasm bathe me. He thrust a few more times, the friction pushing me over the edge again. My vision darkened ever so slightly, my ears ringing. And then it was over, our bodies connected, our breathing almost on the same frequency.

But then his phone began to ring, pulling us back into reality.

He stepped back, picking up the towel I’d given him off the floor and tossing it over my body.

“Get dressed. It’s time to go.”

Dominic

Edgar was sitting at a table close to the kitchen, a drink in front of him that looked untouched. He was nervous. He hadn’t wanted to meet, but I gave him no choice.

“Hello, brother.”

He looked up, his eyes lost behind dark tinted glasses. He stood, taking my hand to pull me in and give me a pat on the back.

“Good to see you’re still alive.”

I stepped back and his eyes fell on Amy. He stiffened, stepping back so that he nearly tripped over his chair.

“Emily?”

“No. This is her sister, Amy.”

Edgar had paled noticeably under the glasses that seemed to cover his entire face. He studied her for a long moment before he slumped down into his chair.

“This was a mistake. You shouldn’t be here, and you definitely shouldn’t have brought her here.”

“I need to know what you know, Edgar. I need to know what Emily stumbled onto before they killed her.”

“They’re everywhere. They might be here, listening to us now.”

“I’m aware.”

Edgar looked around the room, checking out the twenty-something crowd that was undulating to music that was much too loud and much too vulgar to be considered true music. I turned a chair around and straddled it, leaning close to Edgar so that I was the only thing he could focus on.

“Tell me what she told you.”

“What makes you think she told me anything?”

“Because she trusted you. You would have been the first person she turned to with any information.”

Edgar inclined his head slightly. He glanced around the bar again, his eyes alighting on Amy where she stood behind me, then on me again.

“She looks so much like her.”

“Forget about her. Tell me what Emily said the last time she spoke to you.”

Edgar brushed a piece of long, greasy hair out of his face. “She said she thought she’d figured out the hierarchy. She knew who was at the top.”

“Did she tell you who?”

“No. But you know how she thought someone in the CIA was involved? She told me she was pretty sure she knew who it was and you were in danger because this guy was close to someone you know.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. She said he was a friend of a friend of yours in Houston. But she didn’t say who or give me his name.”

“What about the hierarchy? What did she say about that?”

“She thought she knew who was at the top. She said we were close before, when we were in Paris. She said we were so much closer than we realized and that’s why things imploded the way they did. She said she thought she could bring them all down now. She just needed a little more time.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. But I know she had some information. She was going to send it to me, but it never arrived.”

I nodded, wondering if it was possible that what I’d needed was back in Texas after all. I leaned forward and touched Edgar’s arm.

“You did good.”

“Did they really kill her?”

I tilted my head slightly, catching the grief in his voice. “They did. I’m sorry, Ed.”

He ran his hands over his face, dislodging the glasses briefly. “She was such a fucking arrogant woman, always bossing everyone around, telling everyone what to do. I hated her guts the moment I met her. But I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”

“I know. Me neither.”

I slapped his shoulder and started to stand, but he grabbed me and pulled me back down.

“That information you gave her months ago, the stuff you stole from the CIA?”

“Yeah?”

“That makes you a target. She said she thought that they were watching you, and that’s why she couldn’t send the information she’d gathered to you. Otherwise, it would have gone to you before me.”

“Did she have proof? Was someone watching me?”

He shook his head. “But it could be why they set up the kill scene the way they did. I’ve been thinking about it since you described it to me. They were trying to set you up. The call to her sister, that was coincidence. But the stabbing, your name in her phone…she was too careful for that shit. They set it up. They wanted to draw you out.”

“But if I’m being watched—?”

“We might be dealing with two separate groups here, Dom. You’ve got to be careful.”

“I will.”

I slapped his arm again and then grabbed Amy and pulled her out of the crowded bar.

“Who was that?” she demanded the moment we were alone in the silent car.

“A friend.”

“He knew Emily?”

“Yes.”

“He called her bossy.” She smiled. “He knew her well.”

That made me smile, too. Emily was petite, this gorgeous young woman who looked like she’d scream if she saw a spider cross her path. But, in reality, Emily was tougher than half the guys who fought in my squad. It was something I truly admired about her.

We headed back to the motel. She was quiet for a long time, staring out the window as the streets unfolded around us. I let us into the room and flipped on the television, searching through the channels for some news. There was nothing—for a country that once craved twenty-four hours of news, there wasn’t much available anymore. I tossed the remote to Amy and pulled out the throw away phone I’d bought. I found a Dallas news station that posted news on the hour. They were still looking for me, both in connection to Emily’s murder and Amy’s kidnapping. That would make searching Emily’s apartment tricky.

I dialed a number from memory, hoping I’d remembered it correctly, as Amy turned off the television and stared at me.

“Hey, Elizabeth,” I said, as a familiar voice filled my ear.

“Dominic? Oh, god, I was afraid they’d gotten you, too.”

“No, I’m good.”

“Where are you?”

“San Diego. I needed to talk to Edgar.”

“Did he have any idea…?”

Her voice broke. It killed my soul to hear the pain in her voice. No one wants to see or hear their friends suffer.

“I’m sorry, Lizzie. If I’d known, I would have—”

“She wouldn’t have wanted you involved.”

“I know. But I should have been there for her, anyway.”

“Don’t do that to yourself. Emily knew what she was getting herself into. She knew the risks.”

Her voice cracked again. I could picture her, her blond hair down around her face, her face splotchy with her tears.

“Listen,” I said softly, wishing I didn’t have to do this. “I think Emily had something at the apartment that might help me find who did this. Would you be okay with me coming by tomorrow?”

“The police have been in and out of the place, but I think they’re done. Just…be careful.”

“I will.”

I disconnected the call, feeling heavy hearted as I turned and started throwing things back into my duffle.

“I think it’s time you tell me what’s going on.”

I glanced at Amy. “I think you’ll be better off not knowing anything more than you already do.”

She got off the bed and tried to grab my arm, but I moved out of her reach, grabbing the food I’d dropped on the floor earlier. I shoved it against her chest.

“Eat. We need to get on the road.”

She held her hands up, refusing to take it. “Not until you talk to me.”

“Christ, Amy!”

I bent and snatched the fallen food off the floor again, pulling out a bag of crushed powdered donuts and a small bottle of milk. I tossed the rest of the food onto the bed and then threw myself into a chair, tearing open the package and wolfing down the food. Amy came to stand beside me, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Who were you talking to on the phone just then? Elizabeth?”

“Maybe she’s my girlfriend.”

I saw a flash of pain cross her face and—I almost hated to admit it—it filled me with a little pleasure. I wanted her to be jealous. I wanted to believe that she lay in bed late at night and wondered whom I was with at that moment…just as I had done for years, wondering whom she was with.

“You were talking about Emily. And you said something about going to their apartment. Was she Emily’s roommate?”

I chuckled a little. “How could you be twins with someone, share every second of your childhoods together, and know so little about her?”

“What do you mean?”

I just shook my head, draining the bottle of milk. “Get your stuff. We’re leaving.”

“You’ve had less than three hours of sleep in the last twenty-four hours. Do you really think it’s a good idea to drive twenty hours now? Shouldn’t we wait until morning?”

“We don’t have time.”

“Why not?”

“Because the people who killed Emily are looking for both of us. If we don’t find them before they find us, we could very well end up right where Emily is right now.”

She paled a little, but refused to back down.

“Then why don’t you go to the police?”

“Because these people…the police can’t do anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because half of them work for the CIA. And the other half are terrorists who operate outside of the law.”

I regretted saying it the moment it slipped from my lips. I watched the shock wash over her face, the disbelief and then the fear. She shook her head as though she could shake the idea from her mind.

“I don’t understand. Why would the CIA want to kill my sister?”

“I don’t think the CIA did. But they didn’t do much to protect her, either.”

“You’re talking in riddles, Dominic.”

I got up and grabbed my duffle. I started for the door, but she stepped in my way.

“Amy, for Christ’s sake!”

“Tell me what’s going on! I’m tired of playing these games with you. I’m not some fragile little girl who can’t handle the truth!”

“I never said you were.”

“Then tell me and quit treating me like I’m too stupid to understand.”

I studied her face for a long moment, saw the determination that lived there. I knew I had no choice. If I was going to get her out of this motel room and back on the road, I needed to tell her something. It crossed my mind that I could get away with a few half-truths, but I knew Amy. I knew her better than I knew myself. I wasn’t getting away with anything other than the whole truth.

“Emily was CIA.”