Committed (27 page)

He pushed his fingers through her hair, combing it out to lay over his chest. She tilted her head and relaxed a bit.

“I’m used to women I have a relationship with fitting into one part of my life or the other. If she’s someone I would date, my coworkers know who she is and ask us over for barbecues and to watch the game, but we don’t … play. If she’s someone I would play with, my dungeon
family knows every bit of her, but to my coworkers, she doesn’t exist.”

Poppy listened with a sinking feeling. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out which category she fit into, and she didn’t like being a dirty secret.

“But my coworkers know who you are, and so do my dungeon family. I don’t think I quite know how to handle it. Yet.” He placed his hand over hers, pressing it against his pectoral.

Wait … what?

“I’m not perfect. I’ve screwed up. I get that. All I’m asking for is a little patience while I get my shit together.”

How did she reply to that?

Oh, no, you screwed up once, sorry, that’s it. I’m totally perfect and never do anything wrong, by the way
.

Hell, no.

Poppy crawled up his body, fumbling to find his face. Her nose bumped his chin before she found his mouth with hers. He tasted of mint and coffee. A little bit of perfection.

“I’m a basket case and relationships make me nervous. I’m about a decade behind everyone else when it comes to those skills,” she blurted out, feeling heat crawl up her neck.

Damien rolled them over. Mario leapt off the bed, meowing his displeasure, but he’d get over it. He kissed her again, pressing her into the pillows while his body settled between her thighs.

“I can help you there,” Damien whispered.

Her heart raced. Was he serious? Did he mean, like, a relationship-relationship? Or something else? Her tongue was too busy sparring with his to vocalize the question, but there would be time for specifics later.

Damien palmed her breast through the fabric of the T-shirt she’d worn to bed. It wasn’t exactly sexy attire, but she hadn’t expected him to make an appearance. She arched into his hold as his fingers passed back and forth over her hardening nipples. She wrapped her thighs around him and raked her nails down his back. He hadn’t yet allowed her the use of her hands during sex, and she wanted to touch him all over.

He kissed a trail down her neck to the collar of her shirt, while his hands slid under the fabric. She mapped his shoulders and back, relishing the way his muscles rippled against her palms. He pushed the shirt up and she pulled it off, tossing it over the edge of the bed.

Damien paused and chuckled as yet another meow and soft thud marked the departure of Yoshi.

“I don’t think they like me much right now,” he said, his lips brushing her stomach.

“They’ll get over it, promise.” They were cuddle-sluts, which was one of the reasons she loved her cats. Any transgression could be cured with a good snuggle on the couch or in bed.

Damien scraped his stubble against her ticklish sides and she squirmed, trying not to giggle. Giggling was not sexy, but she couldn’t help it. He held her in place with his weight and strength, subjecting her to the torturous drag up and down her other side.

He chuckled and moved to her breast, nuzzling the underside. His mouth was magic. He drew her nipple into his mouth and gently teased the nub with his teeth. She undulated beneath him, wanting the feel of his cock inside her once more.

She slid her hands over his scalp and down his neck, and kneaded the muscles in his shoulders.

Damien rose suddenly, leaving her and going across the room—to his bag.

Poppy removed her panties, tossing them in the vicinity of the hamper. Damien returned with nothing more than a condom. She didn’t know if she could take more play. Arousal sang through her veins, and she wanted to touch him this time. They didn’t need the trappings of bondage or power exchange, not all the time.

He removed his boxers and rolled the condom on. She felt his gaze flick to her, but in the dim light she couldn’t make out his features, just his form. Could a man be beautiful? Because he was.

Damien crawled up her body once more, joining their lips as she reached for his hard length. He pulsed in her grasp, as ready as she was. She drew him closer, hitching her leg higher around his waist and bringing him to her entrance.

He held her face with both hands as he thrust. Their breath mingled as their bodies joined. He withdrew and thrust again. She whimpered as sore muscles protested, but it felt too good to stop.

She ran her hands down his back to his ass and squeezed, urging him deeper. The hard muscles flexed as he pushed further into her body, seating himself fully in her pussy. She squirmed, trying to move, but he held her perfectly still.

Damien kissed her sweetly, a gentle brush of his lips across hers. He mastered her body while wooing her heart. Did he even know what he was doing? Was it intentional?

He withdrew and thrust, his motions slow and controlled. She was almost glad for the darkness, because it hid the swell of emotions ricocheting around in her chest. He slid in and out, touching the deepest parts of her, and not just her pussy. He was touching her heart.

She arched her back and moved her hips in time to his thrusts. His nose bumped hers as he searched for her mouth. They chuckled and their lips met. For a moment all that mattered was the kiss, their joined bodies, and the soul-deep connection.

Damien took a handful of her hair and twisted her head sideways, baring her neck to him. He withdrew and thrust. She gasped as he changed the angle of his thrusts. He filled her completely. He wrapped a hand around her neck and squeezed slightly, just enough to let her know he was there, and what he could do.

Poppy dug her nails into his shoulders as the orgasm rolled over her, lust, desire, and even love twining together to drag her under the tide of pleasure zinging through her body. Damien shoved deep and his whole body tensed as he groaned.

For several moments they lay clinging to each other, as the haze of their lovemaking passed. Poppy bit her lip and stroked the marks she’d left on him.

Her life wasn’t a fairy tale, and yet she was falling for a man she barely knew.

Damien moved first, easing from her body and kissing her forehead before leaving to clean up in the bathroom. She got out of bed on shaky legs to get a clean pair of panties and a silky nightgown.

Mario appeared between her ankles, while Yoshi yowled at the bathroom door. She bent and rubbed under Mario’s chin.

“How do you fall in love with people so fast?” she whispered to the cat.

Mario’s eyes glinted in the dark as the bathroom door opened.

“It’s all you,” Damien said as he entered the bedroom, wearing nothing.

She clutched her clothes to her chest and slipped past him, too emotionally unstable to speak yet.

In the safety of the bathroom, she blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand across her face. She went through her routine on autopilot, finding no solace in the release she’d just shared. If anything, there was more tension riding her now.

She tiptoed back to bed, to find both cats sprawled across Damien, blinking in the lamplight. They glanced at her as if to say,
We approve. Why don’t you?

“I think they’ve added you to the pride.” She slipped in next to him and stroked Yoshi’s back.

“Lucky me.” Damien reached over, wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her down for a soul-searing kiss.

She blinked at him, her wits officially scrambled, as he stroked her hair with one hand
and Mario the other. The man had talent. He ran his thumb over the bracelet still circling her wrist.

“I don’t follow rules very well,” he said.

“What?” Her addled brain couldn’t even process a simple statement. Besides, she had no idea what he was talking about.

“The switch bracelet?”

“Oh.” She buried her face in the cool pillows while he chuckled at her.

He rubbed her back as the mattress shifted, dipping toward him as he rolled onto his side. Cat paws pressed into her lower back as one feline took his precious time finding another suitable spot to settle into.

She peeked up at him and slipped the bracelet off her wrist, offering it to him.

“You didn’t get a fair turn.” He pushed the bracelet away.

“I don’t want it.”

He frowned and accepted it, but didn’t seem to like the idea as much as she’d expected him to.

Poppy faced him, her head pillowed on her arm. “There’s something about our dynamic that makes me submissive in a way I’ve never been before. I don’t really want to switch with you, but I need to know it’s an option. Does that make sense?”

“Not really, but it might in the morning.” He yawned to punctuate the point that it was creeping past the early morning hours.

Poppy turned the lamp off and let him draw her closer.

“I’ll probably never be a real submissive,” she said.

Damien chuckled. “Sweetness, there is no checklist of what makes a ‘real’ submissive.”

His words offered a little comfort, but she had to wonder if it was enough.

Damien stepped out of the shower and the scent of frying bacon slapped him in the face. His mouth began to water and his stomach grumbled. The hurried dinner he’d had last night had long since worn off, leaving him famished.

He stepped around the corner and ambled into the kitchen.

Poppy leaned over the stove just enough that the hem of her blue dress rode up to expose the curve of her bottom. He grinned and touched the bracelet on his wrist, as if it were a good-luck charm.

She hummed to herself, oblivious of his presence, so he tiptoed across the wooden floor, careful to avoid the troublesome squeaky places. He cupped her bare ass and squeezed. The sound of popping grease didn’t hide her intake of breath.

“This outfit looks great on you,” he whispered into her ear. While she’d showered first, he’d perused her interesting collection of costumes and selected one, challenging her to wear it. He wasn’t disappointed.

“It’s one of my favorites.” She glanced over her shoulder, rewarding him with a bit of a smile.

He slid his hand up further. Just as he’d suspected—no panties.

Very nice
.

“What princess is this?” He couldn’t place the blue dress with its little puffed sleeves, but he wasn’t exactly up-to-date on his princess movies.

“It’s not a princess at all.” Poppy chuckled.
“Alice in Wonderland?”

“Oh, but I thought you were into princess stuff. Is she a princess?”

“No, but it’s one of the outfits that doesn’t need a wig to make sense, so I end up as Alice or Cinderella a lot. Though now I can add Rapunzel to the list, since she finally got a movie.”

“Okay, so which princess is your favorite?” He leaned against the counter, ignoring the ridiculousness of the statement. There were worse things to be fanatical about than princesses.

“My favorite princess is Belle, but there are others that I really like. Tiana, Mulan, and Pocahontas are some of my favorites because of the history and lore behind them, but I don’t pull the outfits off well. Well, the last two aren’t technically princesses, but those are the ones I really like.”

“Why’s that?” There were differences between them besides the color of their dresses?

“Do you really want to know?” She wrinkled her nose and cracked eggs into another skillet.

“Enlighten me.” He could spend hours getting to know her, and still be fascinated by the layers. This weekend wouldn’t be enough. He needed more of her. A lot more.

Damien stalked into his office, muttering under his breath. “Damn. Fucking Cooper.”

It didn’t help that it was Monday morning. Cooper just made it worse.

“Careful, he’ll hear you.”

He pivoted, blinking at the woman hunched over his desk, scribbling away on a form.

“Gio, what are you doing in here?” He circled to his chair and sat down across from her.

“Being smart and hiding, unlike you. I do not want to get roped into staying late tonight.” She glanced up. “What did you get pulled into doing?”

“Matías and I are going to go do a damn stakeout,” he grumbled.

“That’s what you get for sticking your nose where the PD doesn’t want it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Word had finally gotten back to his boss, Howard Cooper, that he and Matías had shown up at a crime scene, uninvited. It wasn’t something totally disallowed, but departments got territorial about their cases and the few minutes they’d spent on scene had clearly bruised someone’s toes. As a result, both Matías and Damien were getting the shitty jobs.

“I think he’ll make you case agent on this one,” Gio said, as she scribbled some more.

“Not seeing that happen right now.” He pulled a few takeout menus from his desk drawer, procrastinating on the truly distasteful task of the afternoon.

His personal phone chimed and he pulled it out of his pocket.

    
Thinking of U
.

Three little words had such a strange effect on him, just because of who had typed them.

“What’s up with you lately? I’ve barely seen you.” Gio leaned back in the chair and clicked her pen a few times.

His standard reply was a kneejerk, “Nothing.” But that wasn’t the truth.

“I met someone I really like, and I feel like I’m fucking it up already. Every time we make plans, work comes up.” He flipped through one menu so hard the creased paper ripped. He made a disgusted noise in his throat and tossed it in the trash.

“Send her flowers. Girls love flowers.”

“You don’t.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not a real girl. I’m guessing she is, though.”

Damien smiled despite the unpleasant circumstances. “She is kind of a girly-girl.”

“Oh God, as long as she’s not like the last one.” Gio rolled her eyes.

“What do you mean?” Damien had to think for a minute, and he still wasn’t sure who Gio was referring to.

“The last one, with the big hair and bubble butt. She had that shrill laugh?” Gio leaned on his desk, her wild curls especially unruly today.