Disclaimers: They're still not mine, and I'm still not making
anything from playing with them.
Thanks and hugs to Mouse and Nicole for most excellent beta.
Summary: Goes back to Bobby's POV for more relationship development. I don't know where the sex came from. It wasn't in my plan, I swear.
Feedback to jb7811@bellsouth.net
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I'm already in too deep. I think I knew that *before* I spent that first night with him--because I wanted it, wanted *him*, so badly. My usual way is to hook up with people that I can care about, but not too much. I don't do one night stands, and I'm not afraid of commitment...up to a point. But there's that point, that I'd-take-a-bullet-for-you point. When I see it coming--and I almost always do--I begin the retreat. The retreat moves at roughly the same speed as the point's approach. So how in the hell do I find myself watching the point whiz right by without taking so much as a step backward?
Is that love, insanity, or just raging stupidity? Why would I let him become so important and why did I first start to realize it when his daughter was sitting right there watching me with those eyes? Those eyes that were just like his, in that they seemed to be able to see right through me, from everything I've ever been to everything I ever will be. It was unsettling to say the least. If I'm honest with myself--and I might as well be, because nobody else'll do it for me-- I'll admit it went much deeper than 'unsettling'.
I've faced down gun wielding maniacs and guys twice my size with murder in their eyes, but never has anything struck more terror in me than facing one teenage girl determined to interrogate me on the most intimate details of my life. I was still dealing with the hit of fight-or-flight panic that I'd gotten after sleeping with Dominic, but this had the opposite reaction of freezing me up. I couldn't have moved or run if I wanted to, although I tried not to let her see that. Why did Gabriella scare me so much? Because she's so damned important to Dominic, that's why. If she hated me, or rather the idea of me with her dad, that would influence Dominic's attitude toward me. It might not happen immediately or even willingly, but it would happen. He'd have to choose her over me. If he didn't, he wouldn't be the man that I...became friends with in the first place. Only a jerk would do that, and Dominic's never that, not around me anyway.
So, I guess "raging stupidity" gets a pretty strong vote. This thing with Dominic can't last. I knew that all along, because nothing ever lasts, not for me anyway. No reason to start whining about it now--it's just the way things are. I figured if I kept reminding myself of that I'd be okay. Ironically enough, losing him is becoming a thought I can barely live with. Suddenly, I find myself thinking about the future-- some kind of hazy, dreamlike, everything'll-be-all-right future with Dominic.
As if indulging in dreams weren't bad enough, I also find myself wanting Gabriella to like me. More than that, I want her approval. It seems as if simply reassuring her that I'm not trying to take Dominic away was a good first step. Now all I have to do is not blow it, keep my momentum going.
I make victims and witnesses trust me everyday, so how hard can it be with Gabriella? There is a slight difference in that those people are generally at a low point where they need to trust somebody. They want something in return--help, retribution, justice, whatever they want to call it. Gabriella doesn't want anything from me except the reassurance that I've already given. So what does that leave? I don't want to be her *friend* exactly. I just want her to think I'm good enough for her dad. This could be a difficult task, but it's not one I can ignore. And failure is not an option. I can't allow it to be. I can't lose Dominic because I couldn't get his daughter's approval.
We were still sitting there in Dominic's living room staring at each other, and I was wondering if her thoughts were as mixed up as mine, when Dominic walked in. When he saw us, the look on his face was priceless--like a recurring nightmare had come to life in his living room, but it wasn't quite as bad as he thought it would be. I looked over at Gabriella and she grinned back, and I thought that maybe we might be on the right track after all. She told him we were good and then changed the subject, which was fine with me. It seemed to be fine with Dominic, too. He looked relieved that there would be no histrionics that evening.
Dinner at Gabriella's favorite restaurant passed pleasantly enough. She kept pinning me with that Look, the look that must be a Da Vinci family trait, at regular intervals as if looking for cracks in the veneer or some flaw that she could point to and say, "Ah hah! You *are* a freak!" or whatever fault she might find. I also noticed that whenever a pretty woman passed by she watched me closely for reaction. Does she accept Dominic's attraction to both sexes, but not mine? That'd be a strange attitude. Or maybe she's not convinced I'm really committed to Dominic.
Well, she'd have plenty of reason to believe that, since I can't seem to be able to actually say the words to either her or Dominic. But that doesn't mean I'm not, right? I mean, just because I don't talk about my feelings much doesn't mean I don't have them. Dominic is the same way. We're guys. Actions speak louder. This is who we are and what we do. He knows that already, so I guess I need to let Gabriella know...somehow...that I'm not just fucking around with Dominic.
Because there hasn't been nearly enough of *that* to really qualify as the point of the relationship anyway. We were just about to move into Dominic's bedroom when Gabriella called about her friend's assault. Dominic had to go be a father, and I had to go to work. Then last night we had dinner with Gabriella, and then I went home. Alone...again. What else could we do? Neither Gabriella nor our jobs can be ignored, no matter how much they interfere with our time alone together.
When Dominic called me on my cell this afternoon to say he'd be working late, he sounded as regretful as I felt. Much as I like being with Dominic in person, I'd almost be satisfied just talking to him on the phone for hours at a time. When he talks real low, it doesn't matter what he's saying, he could be reading the newspaper and I'd still get hard.
Of course, he took care of that problem in a hurry when he asked about Maddy, who's a more effective arousal killer for me than a bucket of ice water poured in my lap. "With all that's been happening, you never did tell me about Madeline calling you. What's the story there?"
"I talked to her for nearly two hours, and I can only hope I made her understand how her mother felt. I think she's going to go back to Portland," I told him, while I tried hard to believe it. "I wanted to take her home right then, but she has to decide for herself or she'll just end up back in the same leaky boat. Or she'll end up some place even worse. I told her to call me when she's ready. I just hope she doesn't wait nearly a year this time."
"Maybe you got through this time. She probably called because she was finally ready to listen to what you had to say, yeah?" He didn't say everything would work out, but he did encourage my hope.
I really appreciated that, but I wasn't sure how to tell him beyond, "Thanks."
"Yeah, listen, I'll talk to you later, okay? I've got to get back to work if I want to get home before midnight."
"What are you guys working on that's so big?" That was my subtle way of asking if he was working alone.
"Nothing in particular. I'm just going to get caught up on some reports and paperwork while it's quiet. Between the phone constantly ringing and being in and out of the office all day, I can't get them done during regular hours. Every once in a while I have to play catch up."
"I understand. Maybe I'll call you later." I said it offhand, but I knew I would. I'd find myself thinking about him, and the next thing I knew, I'd be calling him up to see if he's free yet.
And that's what happened, except for the calling part. Since I was driving aimlessly around because my apartment had felt too damned empty, I found myself on Burrard Street for the third time and gave up. I parked in front of the Coroner's Service building and walked right past the night guard with a flash of my badge, which should have worried me a little, but I was too preoccupied to get worked up about it.
When I got up to the Coroner's Office, the place was dim and looked deserted, except for the light coming through the windows of Dominic's office. He seemed to be tidying up his desk when I knocked lightly on the doorframe. He looked up with a start, and said, "Bobby. What's up?"
"Would you believe I was in the neighborhood? So I thought I'd drop in and see how you were doing." I wouldn't have believed it myself, but he just smiled.
"I'm glad you did. I was just finishing up here. Come on in and have a seat." He motioned me not to the visitor's chair in front of his desk, but toward the small sofa by the outside window.
I'd been in his office several times for both personal and professional reasons, but tonight put me in mind of the evening of our first date. I had sat over there and watched Dominic, fantasizing about his hands and wondering what was going to happen with us. Tonight, he looked more relaxed, with his sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened. I sat on the couch and watched his profile as he straightened his papers and files.
He looked tired, and I remarked on it, saying, "You've had a long day. I should go on home, so you can do the same."
I started to stand up, but he said, "No, just wait a minute."
I sat back down and reached into my pocket for a cigarette. I hadn't had one since lunchtime, and it was a nervous reflex that had my hand moving before I remembered there's no smoking in municipal buildings. Dominic noticed the aborted movement as he sat down next to me. I shrugged and said, "I've been trying to quit--well, cut down-- anyway."
"Oh yeah, seriously? That's good, Bobby. You'll feel much better." He smiled and I believed him, even though I would have cheerfully strangled someone for a smoke. It was partly because of him that I'd ever thought about quitting in the first place. When both partners smoke, you don't think about the smell or the taste or whatever. But when you start kissing someone who doesn't smoke, it becomes a worry--not as important as the health angle, of course, but something else to think about.
I clenched my hands around one knee to stop their shaking, and changed the subject, "How's Gabriella doing?"
"She's doing pretty good considering... She's being very mature about everything," he said proudly. He reached up and loosened his tie some more and undid a couple more buttons. If he'd been a woman or even a different kind of guy, I'd have thought he was coming on to me. Since it was late and we were in his office, I tried not to be too affected by his actions, even when he leaned back and looked up at me from under lowered brows. Control wasn't easy to maintain, because my body was getting the message loud and clear, and responded accordingly.
"That's good." He looked at me with this flash of hunger in his eyes and this half smile on his lips, and I forgot that I'd been referring to Gabriella. In fact, I completely forgot about her existence. It was all about Dominic now and how he said my name.
"Bobby." Low and hot, the word I hear a dozen times a day was like a direct link to my nervous system. I could feel it in every part of my body, and I leaned closer, wanting...more. By the time my mouth touched his, I didn't care that we were still in his office. Hell, I couldn't have been sure we were still on planet Earth.
I kissed him like it had been weeks instead of days since we'd last been alone together, and he sucked the breath right out of me. His response reminded me of having his busy mouth other places, and when his hands settled on my sides, I started spinning fantasies of being fucked senseless across his desk. After several moments, the need for oxygen became too great to ignore and we both pulled back a little. Dominic glanced toward the open door and the windows that fronted his office, reminding me of where we were, and that we shouldn't be doing what we were doing. Especially since I was already thinking of doing even more inappropriate-to-the-workplace things.
I leaned back against the arm of the couch, but he was still pressed up against me, saying, "It's okay. No one else is here."
I had turned to stare out the windows, double checking I guess, when I felt his fingers on my cheek. I flinched before I could stop myself. Personal space had already become a foreign concept with him, but there's something especially intimate about touching another person's head, unless you're kissing or something. It's a natural reflex to avoid a hand coming toward your face.
Dominic dropped his hand to my arm as if that had been its destination all along, and shifted away, just enough that we were no longer touching at so many points. He ran his fingers down my arm and then gave my hand a little pat before standing up and going back to his desk. I sat there for a moment and wondered if something irreparable had happened, but then he turned with a smile and said, "Let's get out of here."
I smiled back and asked him what he had in mind. He shrugged into his jacket and slung his briefcase strap over his shoulder before saying, "Whatever you want."
Walking over to him, I deliberately crowded him against his desk as I leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I want you to fuck me on your desk, but I don't guess that's possible, is it?"
His eyebrows shot up and I could see him swallow hard, then he said slowly, "No. But uh...you know, I've got a desk at home. And a table and a bed--hell, I've got a whole variety of flat surfaces suitable to the purpose."
"And Gabriella?"
"Staying with a friend."
"All night?"
"All night."
"Okay, let's go then." I grabbed his overcoat off the rack and shoved it into his hand, saying, "Just carry it. It's not that cold out." I hustled him out his door just as a cleaning woman was maneuvering her cart into the outer office. I let out a relieved sigh and shook my head at our fortunate timing, while he greeted her by name and asked how she was doing.
When I nodded at her and said goodbye to him as if we were coworkers parting ways, he winked at me behind her back, letting me know that he knew what I was doing and that it was okay. Then I drove to his place and waited an extremely long ten minutes before he pulled in next to me. That I did it nicotine-free without chewing off my own fingers is a testament to just how focussed my thoughts of Dominic were.
Already hard and achy, I got out and followed him to his door. He unlocked the door while staring at me. It was slightly unnerving, and as I often do, I wondered what Dominic saw when he looked at me like that. I could never ask him. It would sound like I was fishing for compliments instead of being honestly curious. I know I'm nothing special, but damn, the way he *looks* at me sometimes... It's like he sees more than is there, and I wonder if I can live up to his version of me.
But then he pulled me inside and I forgot to worry. He crowded me against the wall much as I had done to him earlier, and put his hand on my erection. "Bobby. Want me to take the edge off first?"
Even as I pushed against his hand, I shook my head and said, "I can wait." When he raised both hands to the wall on either side of my head and pushed his whole body against me, sliding one hipbone along the length of my cock, I thought it might kill me to wait. But I could do it. I wanted to wait for him, but when he kissed me, I forgot why for a moment and started dry humping his belly like a teenager who hadn't learned the first thing about control.
Even through layers of clothing it felt so good I might have kept going, except that Dominic pulled back and grinned. "Thought you could wait?"
I leaned my head back against the wall and took a deep breath. "You're not making it any easier. We gonna do this here?"
"Only if you want to. I'd prefer the bed myself." He spoke in a low growly voice right against my ear, and had me not caring if we were in the hallway or the bedroom or out in the street. I just shook my head and pushed at his shoulders, hoping he knew what I meant because speech seemed to be beyond my capabilities. He did, because he pulled me toward his room, stopping for another kiss at the doorway.
When we reached the foot of his bed, he stopped and pulled back. "Wait here for a minute. I have to... I'll be right back, okay?" Before he left the room, he turned back and waved his hand kind of nervously toward the bed and said, "Why don't you get undressed?"
Feeling as if something sharp had just sliced down the middle of my insides, I took off my jacket and shirt, shoes and socks. When I got to the button of my jeans, I froze and just stood there for a minute wondering what I was doing. I wasn't fooling myself that this was all spontaneous--I'd taken care of too many details before leaving home to pretend that having sex hadn't been on my mind. In just a few minutes, Dominic would figure out that I planned ahead too, so he wouldn't be thinking that one kiss in his office is what really brought us both here. That thought cooled me off some and suddenly control no longer seemed out of reach.
I've never been attracted to androgynous guys. If I wanted smoothness and softness, I'd date a woman. It's always been the men who are most guy-like who have gotten my attention. So when Dominic walked back into the bedroom wearing nothing but plain cotton boxers, frowning at a bottle of pink body lotion in his hand, I went from zero to sixty in about two seconds. I was burning to feel that hairy chest rubbing against my back, holding me down, and his cock hard and strong inside me.
"This smells like flowers, but I think it'll do." He looked up at me and then down at my hands still clutching the waistband of my jeans like some kind of nervous virgin. He tossed the bottle on the bed and asked, "Did you...change your mind, Bobby? Because you know, we don't have to--"
"No. No, I'm good." I took my jeans off while he went over to the nightstand and took out, not just one, but a whole box of condoms. I smiled at him and said, "Think pretty highly of yourself, don't you?"
He laughed a little sheepishly as he said, "My hands are shaking so much it might take a couple tries to get the damned thing on."
I decided not to tell him exactly what all this meant to me, because the last thing either of us needed was emotional issues causing performance anxiety. I just wanted to get things going again like they had been in the hallway, so I walked over to him and took his hands and placed them on my hips. Then I wrapped my arms around his back and just kissed him, tasting the sweetness of his mouth for a long drawn out moment. When we broke for breath, he leaned his forehead against mine and said, "This is... Bobby, this could be a big deal. Are you sure?"
I could almost hear the jagged sound of defenses being ripped away, and I scrambled to rebuild them, shaking my head gently and saying, "Don't make it... It doesn't have to be. It's just a simple fuck, eh?"
His eyes were just inches from mine and I could read all kinds of skepticism there before he blinked and said, "Yeah, of course. If that's what you want."
Between kisses and gropes, we stripped each other's shorts off and fell onto the bed. I ended up on top, so I took advantage of my position to reach back and grab one of the condoms from the box. Now that we were both naked and on the bed, my hands were oddly steady, even if the rest of me wasn't. I ran my fingers across his chest and down his stomach to circle his erection. It felt hot and heavy and so *solid* in my hand, and I wanted it immediately, no more waiting. Needed it to fill up some empty space that I was only vaguely, peripherally aware of most of the time.
I got the condom on him with no problem, but then couldn't find the lotion. Dominic's low laughter skittered across my nerves as I finally just stood up and walked around the bed until I found where the bottle had fallen to the floor. I tossed it gently at him and then lay face down on the other side of the bed. He stopped laughing when I turned my head and asked, "So are you gonna fuck me or not?"
"Yeah, yeah, just a minute." He shook his head and mumbled something that I was glad I couldn't hear. He moved between my legs, lying on my back like a blanket. I barely noticed what his fingers were doing or that the air was filled with the smell of roses and sweat and musk. I was too busy soaking up his warmth and the weight of his body pushing me down into the bedcovers. And then, with a slow smooth thrust, he was inside me, huge and powerful, stripping away the defensive layers that I'd just been so determined to hang onto. He pulled whimpers and moans from me, even as I wanted to beg him for more, ask him to stop because it was too much, tell him how overwhelmingly good it was, but I couldn't find the words. He seemed to know anyway, where to hit hard and when to go fast, and how to snake his hand underneath to stroke my cock until I came with a loud groan muffled by the pillow.
And then he did it all again until he stiffened and came, collapsing on my back. His damp hair tickled my shoulder blade and I could feel every breath shivering against my skin. When he raised his head, I realized that it wasn't his breath that shivered it was me. I was shaking all over, and my eyes felt too wet beneath my closed eyelids. I squeezed them shut tighter when Dominic asked if I was all right.
"Just give me a minute." It was supposed to be an order, but it came out more as an uncertain request. I had to rearrange some things, put them back where they go before I could look at him. I just wanted to get fucked, not turned inside out. I never expected to feel lost when he pulled out of my body and back into his own, but that's how I felt as he rolled over onto his side of the bed.
He kissed my shoulder when he pulled a sheet up over us, and I felt that brief contact all the way to my toes. He fell asleep with his hand on my back, and it fell off when I finally had to turn over or suffocate. But Dominic scooted right up next to me and threw an arm over my chest. I felt good and...trapped.
Everything in me was screaming to get up and get out of here. The loudest voice was the one reminding me of that other exquisitely painful morning after, but the voice of reason--so quiet and timid at the moment--said that wasn't Dominic's fault. He had nothing to do with my getting ambushed by memories of Gwen.
As soon as I get home tonight--okay, tomorrow, I'm going to throw that pack of her cigarettes away, even if I have to toss the jacket to do it. In the meantime, I'm going to lay right here next to him and continue to wonder what to do next. I don't want to love him. I don't want to take a bullet for him either, but I would. So where does that leave me?
Stupid, insane, or in love. Hell, maybe I'm all three.
The End.