HARDCORE: Storm MC(39)

“You did right. Damn. Okay. So, he’s gonna be really, really pissed about this, and there will be blowback. You know this, right? He’s gonna be on the hunt for you. Which makes me very, very unhappy. I don’t feel good about havin’ you go back to your little apartment alone anymore, not while he’s out there gunnin’ for you. I want you to stay with me, here. You down with that?”



Wow. He’d really been processing this situation a lot more than I had, up to this point. I hadn’t even thought that far in advance.



But he was right. Fielding would be on the hunt for me, and it would be far safer for me to stay here with Dom. I smiled at him gratefully.



“You are totally right, Dom. You wouldn’t mind? That’s a big ask.”



“I don’t remember askin’. You’re movin’ in here with me. Now come over here, and let me hold you.”



I climbed up over him, and we snuggled on the couch until I fell asleep, not too much later.



It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized how completely sweet he was being with me, almost all the time, like maybe what was between us wasn’t all just about the stellar sex. But in those moments, like last night, as I lay on top of him drifting off, I was only aware of how big and warm and strong he was, and how I felt safe and secure and cared for. It felt really, really nice.



# # #



The next day started out perfectly.



I woke up snuggled against Dom in his fabulous king-sized bed. I lay there breathing in his scent, lightly kissing his chest and neck whenever I felt like it, drifting in and out of consciousness for a while.



Eventually I realized he must have been awake, too, and that he was smiling at me. When our eyes caught he rolled me over to my other side, lifted my upper leg back over his hip, and worked me up just enough so he knew I was ready for him. Then he slipped inside of me and smoothly pumped in and out, taking me there slowly, deeply.



When our breathing became more labored and his strokes more demanding, and I was grasping the sheets and my head threw back, he bit me at the juncture of my neck and shoulder and we came as close as together as we’d ever come before.



Best. Wakeup. Ever.



We took it easy the rest of the morning, staying away from hot topics, just enjoying being together in a kind of normal way. We made coffee, and he cooked me breakfast. We ate together and made fun of each other, still learning one another. I cleaned up while he went out for a run, and then I showered and investigated his book collection. He returned and showered. Okay, I’ll admit it: I showered again. We had more of the greatest sex ever.



It was a perfect morning.



All good things must come to an end, though, as they say. Eventually, we had to broach the subject and deal with what was really going on in our world.



Dom broke the barrier of happy good times when he dug out the external hard drive from his jacket pocket from the night before. Looking at me warily, he powered up his computer, connected the drive with a cable, and sat himself in front of the monitor.



He hadn’t mentioned it to me at any point last night or earlier in the day, but I could tell from his face that this was something he found at that sick bastard’s house.



My mind jumped to the possibility that there could have been digital evidence on that drive—something that could put Fielding together with Ronn’s pornos, or with other nefarious activity, possibly even with Tania’s death, though I shuddered to think of a recording of that. However, a recording of that was precisely the point of that, so it stood to reason that Fielding kept a recording on hand somewhere. I just didn’t think I could handle seeing it. Dom clearly had the same thoughts rolling through his mind, as he did not invite me to join him at the monitor.



I kept my seat on the couch, my face pointing to the open pages of a book I had picked up, one of those military-spy-mystery-adventure novels that so many guys love. I had no idea what the words were in front of me. They swam around while I tried to keep my breathing even and not freak out about what Dom was finding.



He didn’t say a word for a number of minutes, just kept clicking his mouse, leaning toward the screen, the fingers of one hand lightly covering his lips. Focused, but I could tell he was in search mode and had not yet hit pay dirt with anything.



As the minutes passed by, the tension in the air around us thickened. At one point, he dug out a set of mini earphones and plugged them into the computer and his ears, and I knew there were videos he was going to watch. I kept my eyes away and took a deep breath.



There were times when I’d known that he had found something. He’d stop clicking, his eyes scanning the screen, or sometimes even closed as he listened to whatever was happening. I moved myself to the mini breakfast bar between the living room and the kitchen, with my back turned to him so I could no longer see his reactions or watch his every movement. The book, however, continued to fail to engage me.