Dangerous Authority (6 page)

Chapter 9

A
fter a while, the rain subsided.  She shut off the air conditioning and opened the windows, allowing a cool night breeze to flow through the small house.  She walked around lighting lavender scented candles and put some ambient music on the stereo.

Despite it all, she felt peaceful. 

She walked to the kitchen, took a bottle of cheap merlot out of the fridge, and poured herself a glass.  For a moment she hesitated and felt guilt stricken.  Then she raised it to her lips.  After all, she wasn't the one with a drinking problem.  She wasn't the one who put drinking before family. And she wasn't the selfish, irresponsible drunk driver who should've been home in bed with his wife and instead killed himself.  So damn it, she was going to have one glass of wine.

She returned to the living room, lit only by the dancing flames of the candles, and the small blue light from the stereo.  She settled onto the couch and drank the wine, letting the warmth and relaxation wash over her mind.

It wasn't that she wasn't sad.  She was completely wrecked over the prospect of telling her children, to be sure.  But she was setting that aside just then.  And she was sad that Zander was gone.  That things hadn't been different.  That things hadn't been
better.
She certainly wished her last encounter with him wasn't being punched in the face.  Maybe then, there wouldn't be relief accompanying the grief. 

She was also scared.  The future was uncertain.  She doubted she could afford the house alone for very long, and was afraid she and the kids would end up living with her parents.  But she was setting that aside for the moment too.

Some things would be difficult.  But all the uncertainty was gone.  All the anxiety.  All the hostility.  Life would be different.  But it would be simple.  She would make it.

Once again, an unexpected knock sounded at the door.  It was much softer this time, and the front door was open with only the screen door keeping the night outside.  She walked to the door and was somehow not surprised to find Dominique there, in plain clothes.

"Hi," she murmured through the screen.

"I'm sorry to come back, Mary Jane.  I know you didn't want me here.  I'm just…  I'm beside myself worried about you."  More emotion played on his face than she'd ever seen before.  A distant flash of lightning struck with no thunder following and illuminated his tanned skin and the tattooed flames on his arm.  She pushed open the screen and stood aside to allow him to pass. 

Once he was in, she shut the front door and stared at it for a moment at the spot where her hand rested.  Then she slowly turned to face him.

"Are you OK?" he asked earnestly.

She answered by falling against him and throwing her arms around his neck.  Their lips met as if drawn by magnets and his fingers laced in her hair, behind her bun, as he plied her mouth with his.  She moaned against him as he had his way with her lips.  She'd imagined a moment like this ten thousand times over but it surpassed everything she'd ever wished for. 

Not breaking the kiss, he pushed her slightly, guiding her back up against the closed front door.  He moved his strong hands slowly over her body, pausing each step of the way to caress and mold her.  When his hands reached her hips, he reached behind her and hoisted her up.  She happily complied by wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him harder.

With a low growl he pulled his face away from her just a fraction.  "Is this what you want, Mary Jane?" he asked quietly.

"Since the first time I ever saw you, Dominique," she whispered breathlessly.  He closed his mouth over hers again and carried her to the couch.  He sat down with her still wrapped around him and she found herself pressed against a rock hard erection which made her instantly and noticeably wet.  She still wore her black dress from the funeral, but had long since discarded her shoes and panty hose.  So when he moved his hands up her thighs, it was bare hot flesh that he felt.  She began rotating her hips against him and he momentarily threw his head back against the back of the couch, staring up into her heady eyes. 

His hand inched further up her skirt and grazed the heat of her center covered only by a thin film of material.  She trembled against the slight touch and the small movement sent a shade of raw lust over his handsome face.

"Are you wet for me?" he breathed.

She nodded, biting her lower lip.

"Will you ride my cock, Mary Jane?" Dominique asked.

She whimpered, overwhelmed with the demons of her own desire.  She'd never felt even a small fraction as turned on as she did just then.  She answered his question by raising her hips just enough to reach and unfasten his fly.  She closed her hand around the evidence that he was every bit as aroused as she.  Using her other hand, she pushed aside the material of her own panties and the slid him slowly into herself.

"Oh, fffffuck," he moaned.  His dirty words thrilled something wicked she hadn't known was in her.

He jerked his hips and thrust himself deep inside her.

"Ah!" she cried, throwing back her head.  Her loose bun came undone and hair tumbled down her back.  He pulled the straps of her dress and bra down simultaneously and exposed her full breasts to the cool night air.  The widening of his eyes as he beheld her for the first time unleashed something hot and raunchy deep down and she began to rock her hips, leaning back with her arms behind her and hands propped on his knees.

"Yes," he urged in a demanding whisper. 

He fit her perfectly and they established a rhythm that nuzzled her g-spot with each stiff thrust.  The sensation it created left her frantic and tingling all over.  He ran a hand up her abdomen, between her breasts and it came to rest on her collar bone just beneath her neck.  He pushed her back just slightly more and she began to squeal with each movement then.

"Come for me," he whispered.

She moved her hips slightly faster, desperately wanting to oblige his request that she'd imagined so many times.  Her entire abdomen was warm and the sense of loss of control was building.

"Mary Jane," he said.  "Come for me."

"Yes," she moaned.

"Look at me."

She made herself look forward and into his dark eyes.  The sight of him, a thing that was finally real, whose lap she finally straddled, brought her straight to the brink, and he knew she was there.

He grinned, one of his rare full, broad smiles.  "Say my name," he whispered.

"Ah…  Ah…  Ah…  Dom-i-niiiique!" she cried out.

Anyone who would've been walking by on the street just then would easily have heard her scream of ecstasy as she exploded over his dick.  He growled as her body clenched on him and that was the end of him as well.  Dominique Flame finally found his release, deep inside Mary Jane's shuddering body.

***

Everybody was surprised when Mary Jane only took one more day off after the funeral and then returned to work.  Mitch argued with her, inviting her to take all the time she needed, but she insisted on coming in.  She spent the day being comforted and soothed by her coworkers and beloved regular customers.  But mainly she just got what she'd come for, mundane things to focus on and give her a reprieve from her grief.

The night of her long awaited encounter with Officer Flame, she'd asked him in the end to go home and give her time.  Respectfully, he had obliged, and she hadn't heard from him the next day during which she spent a sad time informing and comforting her children.  They'd spent a quiet day mourning together and beginning to adjust to the prospect of a very different future.

But he did stop into the diner on the day she returned to work, as he always did.  It was probably her imagination, but she thought he looked at her differently.  Like he knew the inside of her mind.  Like he saw through to the heart of her.  She met his piercing eyes, and gave him a sultry smile despite herself.

He smirked and arched an eyebrow, but quickly pasted his usual stony expression back on his face with a quick glance around.  "Afternoon, Mary Jane.  You doing OK?"  This question was sincere, not just for show.  Maybe no one else would understand her actions on the night following her husband's funeral, but Dominique did.  On a day of such tremendous loss, she was able to recapture something else she'd thought she'd lost.  The past had died.  But the future was still living and breathing.

"I'm OK, yeah."

"I can't believe you came back so soon," he commented as she poured his coffee.

She shrugged.  "Life goes on, I guess.  It helps keep my mind off things."

Dominique leaned forward slightly across the counter and lowered his voice.  "Mary Jane, about…  Uh, I'm sorry.  I should never have done that."

She cocked her head to the side and pondered him.  "Why?"  Her heart began to race.  Not again.  A kiss off, again?  At least he was going to do it in person this time, she supposed.

"I just… You are vulnerable right now.  I need to respect that.  What I did was unacceptable," he said, staring into the well of black coffee in front of him.

"I did it, Dominique, if I recall correctly."

The din of the diner happening around them seemed to fade in her mind as everything else on earth disappeared.  All she could think of right then was him.  She refused to let him slip away again.  Refused.

"Like I said, vulnerable.  I took advantage of you at a weak moment."

Mary Jane leaned her elbows down on the counter, bringing them face to face.  "Dominique, I mourn the loss of my husband.  But, I loved you first."

His eyes shot up to meet hers.

"I don't regret that night, and I pray there will be many more.  And I don't give a damn what anybody may think about it."

Desire smoldered in his eyes and he stared at her so long that a grouchy customer finally had to break the spell by banging his empty coffee cup on the table.  Mary Jane straightened and giggled shyly.

Dominique dropped enough on the counter to cover his coffee and tip, and stood.  He gave her a quick nod.  "Then call me when you're ready," he said, sliding his card under his coffee cup.

He turned and swaggered out the door.

Chapter 10

O
utside of chatting with him each day in the diner, and his morning ritual of appearing outside to let her walk in washed in the safe glow of his cruiser's headlights, she didn't contact him again for over a week.

Her parents were still doting on her and the kids daily, and on a Saturday afternoon they asked to take the kids overnight and for the day Sunday.  To give her some time to herself.  She packed them a bag, kissed her babies goodbye, and let them leave with her mom and dad.

She was on the phone in minutes.

"Flame," came his brief answer to her call.

"Hi, Dominique," she said shyly.

"Mary Jane!"  She could hear the smile in his voice. 

A brazen heat blazed through her and she decided to come straight to the point.  "I'd like some company this evening if you're free."

"I am," he said in a voice that dripped like honey.

"Good," she said.

"Would you like me to take you out, Mary Jane?" he asked.

She honestly hadn't thought about it.  She paused to contemplate if she was really ready to handle the fall out of the small town gossip network once they found out she was out with another man less than two weeks after her husband's death.

"Let's just see where the evening takes us, OK?"

"OK, sure.  Let me get a sitter for the boys and grab a shower and then I'll be over, sound good?"

She grinned.  "Sounds wonderful."

***

An hour later found her standing before her bedroom full length mirror studying her reflection.  Her shining blonde hair fell in ringlets to her waist.  She'd applied smoky makeup to accentuate her big sad blue eyes.  Freckles splayed becomingly across her tanned face, and full lips had been colored a shimmering pink.  She wore a short, filmy dress; black with colorful tropical flowers on it, and dipping low over the rise of her cleavage. 

She couldn't remember the last time she'd looked like this and scarcely recognized herself.  In fact, she didn't think she'd ever looked like this.  She'd never dressed for love.  She'd dressed for obligation and keeping up appearances.  She'd dressed to please a man in hopes that he would behave appropriately in return.  At times, she'd dressed for lust, for a good looking man with whom she'd shared a bed, and a tumultuous life.  But never for love.  Tears sparkled in her eyes as she wished that this is how it would've been all along.  And then his knock came at the door.

Dominique presented just as stunning a portrait as Mary Jane.  He was dressed head to toe in black.  Black trousers, perfectly fitted.  Black button down shirt, tucked in neatly, and shiny black shoes.  Her breath caught in her throat as she set eyes on him.  They looked fantastic, and neither of them even cared if they left the house.  With a shaking hand, she pushed open the screen door and let him in.

Once inside, he stepped to her.  He didn't touch her, but his body was milometers from the shallow rise and fall of her chest, and his lips were close enough to hers that she felt his hot breath.  He stood there for a moment letting the tension build to meltdown imminent levels and then he grabbed her.

She gasped as he owned her with a kiss and pulled her body tightly against him.  She found his hands unbelievably hard and strong as he ran them up the small of her back.  His fingers snaked under her hair, laced there at the top of her neck, and pulled her head back gently but firmly.  He moved his lips down her jaw and neck as he controlled her with his hand in her hair.  She moaned softly.

"Yes?" he whispered.

"Yes."

"Yes…  Please?"

"Please! Please, oh please," she cried.  Her husky voice trembled.

She felt his erection hard against her and craved it.  She fumbled with clumsy shaking hands, but he grabbed her by her wrists. 

"You do what
I
say, Mary Jane," he said darkly.

She nodded, panting with her desire.  She wanted whatever he wanted.  She would give him anything.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her to the floor, onto her knees.  She knelt before him, trembling from head to toe, and he reached down to place a finger beneath her chin and tip her head up to meet her sparkling eyes.

"Your dress is beautiful, Mary Jane.  Take it off."

A jolt of electric energy shot through her.  She reached to untie the strap behind her neck and the flimsy dress fell easily into a pool around her knees on the floor.  She noted his sharp intake of breath when he saw she wore neither bra nor underwear.

"Good girl," he said smiling.

The direction this encounter was taking wasn't one she'd ever taken before.  But it felt incredibly appealing and right to her.  She felt desperate to give him whatever pleased him and welcomed whatever way he chose to please her.

Incredibly slowly, carefully calculating every move as he watched her, Dominique unfastened his belt and slacks.  Apparently not ready to fully reveal himself to her, he instead just freed his long hard cock from the silky folds of his black boxers.  She regarded it with wide eyes and could barely even catch a breath.

"Touch yourself," he demanded quietly. 

She didn't hesitate to reach between her legs and find her clit. She dampened her fingers with her body's own dripping desire and began massaging her sweetest spot.  She shut her eyes at the sensation but he reminded her to look at him and she complied.

"Do what feels best, Mary Jane.  Let me see you," he seethed as she rubbed slowly at first then more frantically.  With her other hand she rubbed and tweaked her own nipples and massaged her breasts.  She glanced away from his eyes only long enough to see the throb of his stony desire no further from her lips than a lick.

"God, yes," he hissed between clenched teeth.  He placed his hand behind her head and held his cock with the other.  "Suck it," he demanded barely above a whisper.  She moaned happily as she enthusiastically closed her warm mouth over her cock. 

She wanted to touch him, but he had to remind her to keep touching herself.  He tipped her head back and gently worked his cock as far as it would go against the back of her throat. 

"Relax.  Breathe slowly," he instructed, never taking his eyes off her eyes.  "Open to me.  Let me in." 

He was incredibly slow and patient as he coaxed her throat open, little by little despite the fact she felt him grow harder than seemed possible in her mouth.  Though he was the picture of calm, she could sense he was close to exploding.  His control set her on fire and she could feel more wetness spilling over her own fingers. 

It had never before been something she could do, but she enveloped him deep in her throat.  The feeling of it aroused in her both fear, and intense eroticism.  She loved him.  She craved him.  He was her obsession.

She began to whimper with her mouth full of him as she felt orgasm rapidly approach and suddenly he pulled out of her mouth.  He made short work of lifting her off the floor and repositioning her body.  He placed her face down on the arm of the couch, positioning one of her feet firmly on the floor, and the other foot buried in the couch cushions.  She felt him step back and stole a glance over her shoulder to find him studying her wide open vulnerability.

"Beautiful," he murmured, glancing into her eyes.  He traced a finger delicately around the opening to her pussy and she shuddered feeling the waves return again. 

Taking his time, he took a turn to kneel.  "Close your eyes," he demanded this time and she did as she was told.  "Just feel.  Don't look."

She felt him work one finger into her and begin manipulating her g-spot.  Then another finger wriggled in to her tightness and the two fingers rubbed and teased.  Next she felt his tongue join the dance, lapping luxuriously at her clit.

She drew a jagged breath, fighting the urge to attempt to close her legs, at least a little.  She knew he wanted her open.

"Not yet," he warned.  "Don’t come yet, my love."

She wanted to obey him.  But she was dangerously close.  Just as the waves nearly crashed, he abruptly pulled his fingers out and his tongue away.  The promise of orgasm subsided once more but not for long as he finally gave her what she'd truly been waiting for.

Dominique plunged his cock into her.  He moved slowly at first and began tantalizing her orgasm once more, inviting it back.

"Tell me you like this," he whispered.

"I
love
this," she moaned.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded.

She shuddered.  "Fuck me."

"What, Mary Jane?" he asked teasingly.

"Fuck me.  Fuck me,
please!"

"Mmmmm…  That's right."  He tangled his fingers in her hair once again and pulled her head back.  Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to control.  To dominate. 

He rammed into her, jarring her forward.  The textured upholstery of the couch's arm toyed with her nipples and her clit.  "Yes," she begged.

"Yes?  Hard?" he asked, giving her another devastating thrust.

"YES!  HARD!"

He pounded relentlessly against her, his own breath becoming rapid and shallow.  Despite the intense friction, she felt him become unbelievably hard and big inside her.

"Come now," he demanded urgently.

She let her muscles relax then and in a fraction of a second the warmth flooded her.  She screamed as he hammered straight through his own orgasm.

***

She lay cradled in his arms in her bed after hours of intense love making.  Both of them were still, naked, and spent.  She traced a finger through the thick of black hair on his chest and inhaled the intoxicating scent of him.  He seemed different at that moment.  Different than he normally was, and definitely different then the role he played of domineering lover.  He was sleepy, gentle, and happy.

"So," she said giggling.  "I guess you have an authority complex…  Officer."

He didn't laugh at her joke or her making light of his extremely disciplined love making.  But he did continue to stroke her arm tenderly as he held her.  "It appeared to me that you liked it."

Her cheeks flushed, no longer feeling like a brazen sex kitten. "Of course," she admitted shyly.

She peeked at his face and saw his eyes remain trained on the ceiling.  Or seeming so, though the room was dark and he probably couldn't see anything in particular.  He didn't say anything for so long she began to fear she had upset him.

"I just like what I like, Mary Jane," he finally explained.

She nodded against his chest.  "I like what you like too, Dominique."

"Do you?" he wondered.  "Can you give me all that I need, Mary Jane?" His voice had taken on a far off, mysterious quality.  She shivered, as she had many times in the past over his powerful intensity.

"I can try," she whispered.

Moments later he propped himself up on an elbow.  "You hungry?  Let's go get a bite to eat.  How about it?"

***

It was ten o'clock at night, but they'd been otherwise occupied at dinner time.  So they decided to make a ten mile drive out to the freeway interchange and visit one of the all night truck stops for a late night meal. 

She enjoyed the trip in his black Lincoln.  It was spotless inside and out, and also black in and out.  Though she knew two little boys often traveled in this car, it smelled of Dominique's cologne. 
Funny,
she thought,
a kid vehicle that doesn't smell like soggy animal crackers.
  She felt smooth and pampered in his car.

The truck stop restaurant was surprisingly busy for as late as it was.  She couldn't help but peak around to see if she knew anybody present.  Anxiety crept in over being spotted on a date.  She threw a glance at Dominique and then a feeling of incredible love overwhelmed her to the point of bringing tears to her eyes.

She had many regrets about Zander.  She knew she should never have married him.  She hadn't loved him and that hadn't changed over time.  Maybe he knew that.  Maybe if she hadn't agreed to marry him, he would've had a happier life and would still be alive.  His death hurt her deeply, but Dominique represented what her life should've been all along.  She was utterly and irrevocably in love with him, and she made the decision right then to ignore whatever rumors would undoubtedly circulate.