How they got out of the restaurant and to their cars was something of a mystery. Rafe bounced between Molly and Domineau, trying to anticipate each of their needs. He got Molly and Matty settled in his car—it was his job to drop them back with Roman and Kelly. The other couple was handling the movie portion of the evening.

Standing in the open driver’s door of her car, he stroked Domineau’s arm until she looked at him. He handed her a key on a ring with a cheesy pink flamingo covered in bling. “Go to my house. The code is hula girl. Make yourself at home. Go through my drawers if you want.”

She glared at him with amusement shooting from her eyes. He hoped she went through the nightstands.

“There’s a bottle of Valleja sherry on the bar cart.” He bent and licked her ear. “Channel seven fifty-one is porn. Feel free to rev the engine but let me handle bringing you to the finish line.”

* * *

She dropped the outrageous flamingo key ring on the table inside the door and punched in the security code.

Hula girl! What an ass.

The first thing she did was check the thermostat. A sudden drop in temperature meant a storm system was threatening. It was still warm, but nothing like the staggering summer heat of the past couple of months.

Remembering he suggested she check his drawers, she squealed with laughter and took the stairs two at a time. Idiot! Didn’t he know she would rifle through his bank account if he let her?

In the master bedroom, the overhead ceiling fan was automatic, but the light was adjustable. She slid the control for dim shadows.

Rafe’s bedroom suited him. Her fingers brushed the top of a large wooden dresser. It was big and solid, like the man. She yanked open a drawer, found it stuffed with socks, and smiled. Such an ordinary thing—socks.

The wall behind the bed was deep red—black cherry came to mind as the name of the color. Everything else was done in shades of dark gray, some white, and accents of black.

The enormous platform bed was the perfect fuck playground. On an angle above the bed were two large skylights with sophisticated electronic shades. She activated the control and retracted the covering that kept the daytime heat to a minimum. The windows were at the perfect pitch that when she was on her back with her calves on Rafe’s shoulders, she could see the stars. And when she rode him, she sometimes lifted her arms to the heavens as his cock sent her soaring.

She bounced her butt on the mattress and looked around. A book on his nightstand was upside down. She flipped it over for a look and found it was about raising daughters. Some part of her wished the book had been about anything else. What did she know about being a parent? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing.

Carefully opening the top drawer of the nightstand as if she was expecting booby traps, Domineau peered into the darkness. When she was certain nothing awful awaited her, she went exploring with her hand.

The first thing she pulled out was a tube of hand cream. For such a big, active man, Rafe had the softest hands. She removed the cap and sniffed. When nothing offensive hit her nose, she squirted some into a palm and smoothed the cream into her hands. Two remote controls were next. One was a mystery but the other controlled the wall mount TV. Just to be perverse, she flicked it on and turned it to Rafe’s preferred porn channel.

Returning her attention to the drawer, she pulled out a pack of condoms shoved into the back. After some awkwardness about health histories and whatnot, they had agreed to ironclad monogamy for as long as they were together. She was more than happy to ditch the condoms in favor of the bareback option.

Rafe’s staff was a thing of wonder. She had a thing for him getting off. Maybe that wasn’t the right way of putting it, but it was true. Domineau loved feeling him bathe her insides with his essence, and she found it strangely exciting in a primal way when he came on her skin. Plus, there was the whole sucking cock and swallowing thing. She relished his tasty saltiness. He tasted like the ocean.

Not much else was in the drawer. Nor in the one beneath. Disappointed, she wandered to the other side, stopping to observe a lusty blowjob happening on the 50-inch screen. The actress swirled her tongue on the guy’s cock while he was in her throat. It was an impressive feat.

On the opposite side of the playground-sized bed, she smirked at the miniature hula girl that sat beneath the light. When she opened the top drawer, she understood what vapor-locking was all about.

Holy mother of kinky fuckery! Where the hell should she start?

There were two tubes of lube. One said anal desensitizing. She fell over laughing. He was so messing with her! Jumping up, she ran into the en suite bathroom and hastily squeezed the entire tube into a big lump of goo in the sink. She tossed the empty tube on top and washed her hands in the second sink.

Next, a still-in-packaging vibrator got her attention. The shaft curved slightly and had small beads inside. A rubbery protrusion with a knobby flat head meant to nestle the clitoris made her pussy throb.

A shiny butt plug with a pink heart-shaped crystal fell into her hand when she dumped a blue velvet pouch. She bit her lip and inspected the cold smooth steel. This was new—playing with her ass. Rafe was way too big for actual penetration but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be adventurous.

Fuzzy handcuffs with a curious bordello look made her smirk. There was a matching set that she couldn’t quite figure out. It took her a few minutes to get it. One pair was for her ankles. The other her wrists. There were secondary buckles to attach the cuffs together. Wrists to ankles. Oh, my goodness. She eyed the naughty vibrator and wondered what Rafe was thinking.

A small box contained a beautifully illustrated Kama Sutra and some massage oils.

Another box had a bullet vibrator and a note that read, I recall you liked the little egg. I hope you will allow me a personal guided tour of the best way to make you come.

The man getting his dick sucked on the TV withdrew his saliva-covered staff and roughly flipped the woman onto her knees. He shoved her head down and moved her ass around. Without stopping for finesse, he lined up and rammed home—bottoming out on the first plunge.

She felt her face burn with desire. Maybe it made her even more fucked up, she wasn’t sure, but Domineau enjoyed well-done porn. It excited her to see a dick power fucking. The sight and sounds made her crazy wet and horny.

A minute later, she shimmed out of her pants and tore off her panties. She got on the bed, stacked up some pillows and faced the TV with her legs spread wide.

The bullet hummed to life. With her eyes glued to the furious fucking on the wall, she started teasing her pussy and clit. In no time, her moans filled the air. She slid the bullet just inside her pussy and let the vibrations send her soaring. Rafe had a tongue that knew all her secrets, so fantasizing came easy. She closed her eyes and rubbed the bullet around her sensitive clit.

A noise made her eyes fly open. It was Rafe, holding the bottle of sherry and two glasses. He was right next to the bed staring at her pussy. “Don’t stop,” he grunted.

The casual way he calmly put the glasses down and poured, all while never taking his eyes off the bullet and her creaming pussy, made her quiver.

He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned into her open thighs for an audible inhale. “Here, let me help,” he drawled a second before his big hands and sturdy fingers spread her pussy lips wide. With her hands free, she could concentrate on her pleasure. Her pussy clenched with unbridled arousal when he told her how swollen and beautiful her clit was.

She teased the throbbing nub and laid the wicked vibrating egg to it. Her back arched, and she jerked from the fiery jolts of lust. Her hips bucked. She wanted to come. Overcome by the building climax, she paused long enough for Rafe to lovingly pluck her clit. The flood he unleashed made her shake all over. When he slid his big warm hands beneath her ass and lifted, her thighs parted farther. She was totally exposed.

Rafe’s face was inches from her pussy. “Finish it,” he demanded, “while I watch.”

The second she tapped the bullet on her swollen clit, she catapulted into a groaning, body-jerking climax punctuated by his pleased grunts. When the throbbing pulses stopped, and she caught her breath, Domineau tossed the bullet aside and melted into the bed—her thighs still open.

Half expecting him to claim the invitation, she was startled when he gruffly demanded she sit up and look at him.

“That demonstration was quite enlightening. Thank you. But we need to get something straight.”

He was kidding, right? Crossing her legs as if she wasn’t naked from the waist down, she licked her lips and regretted the absence of some water to help her parched mouth. When she made eye contact, he was standing, arms crossed, with a stern expression. The substantial bulge under his zipper mocked how turned on she was.

“The kids aren’t here. It’s just us. Look me in the eye and promise me you weren’t fucking around about the boyfriend gig.”

“Is this the best time to seek clarification?”

He sneered. Her damn pussy throbbed. Seriously?

“Yes, it is. Because I know you, Domineau. Or should I call you Rina?” He pinned her with a look. “If you try to pull a smoke maneuver, your ass will pay for it.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Woman, you need a good spanking. Not one of those ‘please sir, may I have another?’ I’m talking a butt whupping to remind you what the hell is at stake. I don’t lie to my kid, and I’m pretty fucking sure you’d swallow bugs before purposely fibbing to Matty.”

She grumbled at his pronouncement but didn’t deny he was right. His arched brow, crossed arms, massive chest, and mocking bulge unleashed a myriad of slutty thoughts.

“Okay, fine!” She threw her hands up. “You win. Rafael D’Alessandro—official boyfriend. Happy?”

The brow remained arched. “And?”

She glared at him through narrowed eyes. Dammit. He really did know her too damn well. “Shit. Whatever.”

“Say it, babe. Out loud.”

“Rafe, come on.”

“Nope,” he drawled. “Out loud, Ms. Rivera. Who do you belong to?”

Yeah, she was gonna like this girlfriend thing, but no way was she giving in this easy!

“Belong to?” she shrieked with outrage that unfortunately sounded more like teasing. Knowing she was making a logistics error, Domineau flipped onto her knees and started crawling across the bed.

Was her bare ass in the air? Yes.

Did Rafe laugh? Also, yes.

Grabbing the corner of a pillow, she tossed it behind her, hoping that it smacked him in the face. The damn bed was so big that making it to the other side took way more effort than expected. Rafe grabbed her ankle and yanked. She clutched the covers, trying to keep an advantage, but he was too strong. She screamed with outrage and tried to kick him. He just kept laughing.

When he tugged one last time, she lost her piddling advantage and barely stopped from landing on the floor.

“On your feet, woman!” His bark was more chuckle than bite.

Putting both hands in the middle of his chest, she tried to shove him away with the expected result. Rafe was solid and barely budged an inch, so she tried faking him out with a duck and weave, but he caught her before she took two steps.

Then the bastard did the unthinkable! He started tickling. Wiggling like a crazy woman as she tried to get away, she screamed with laughter and kept smacking his hands.

From the sound of his voice, she realized Rafe was enjoying himself far too much. “Say it or I’ll tickle till you pee!”

“All right, all right,” she screeched. “Stop!”

The fucker stopped but boxed her in with the back of her legs against the bed. “I’m waiting,” he teased.

It was impossible to keep the stupid smirk off her face, so she barely tried. She put her hands on his neck and pretended to strangle him. “Wipe the smug look off your face.”

“Are you kidding?” He sniggered. “No fucking way. Waited a long time to get you backed into a corner.” He waggled his eyebrows and laughed. “C’mon. Say it. You know you want to.”

A bolt of inspiration flash-banged in her brain. The crusty, hands-off, surly thing was past its expiration date. Rafe knew all her moves by heart. That left just one alternative. She wondered how he would react.

Fluffing her hair, she did a pouty-mouth smirk and went to the hilt with some chick-teasing. Walking her fingers up his chest, she even cocked a hip for good measure.

She had never played the coquette even once in her whole life, and the only reason she knew the term was because her mom collected unusual words and peppered her conversations with them.

Rafe’s near giddy pleasure in her act was clear. He was literally looking at her as if he was deciding where to begin devouring.

“You are crazy for wanting this, Rafael D’Alessandro, but yes, I’m your girlfriend. Happy now?”

He laughed. “Very happy. Thank you.”

She continued her simpering flirtation because … Rafe. “What’s in this for me?” The question was innocent and set up what she wanted to say next, but her boyfriend had other ideas.

With one mighty yank, he shredded her blouse in two and ripped it off. Her bra was next.

Years of living twenty-four seven in a minimizing sports bra meant that in her current life, she kind of lost her damn mind every couple of months with lingerie shopping sprees. Was she thrilled that his big paws destroyed her favorite underwire? No. Nevertheless, it felt great when he took it off and tossed it to the floor.

With an ass ton of manly swagger, Rafe declared, “I like that I’m the only one of those Justice butt fucks who gets to see your boobaliciousness.”

Did he say boobaliciousness?

He snickered while cupping one breast. “Magically delicious.”

They started kissing like horny college coeds at a sex party. Afloat on a cloud of aching need, she fully embraced her enjoyment. Everything felt so right with this man. As herself—or as close to herself as she’d ever come.

Deep in bliss, she barely registered him breaking the kiss. His commanding hold of her naked body made her putty in his hands. She loved when Rafe cut through the dozen layers of bullshit she seemed forever wrapped in and simply took her. There was no other way to put it.

A low groan rumbled from her throat when something wet landed on her breast. She jerked at first—it took a few seconds for her brain to clear. Rafe had dribbled some of the sherry onto her skin and began licking it off, paying particular attention to her nipple. She watched, transfixed, as his tongue licked. She shivered. Occasionally, the licks became sharp nips.

He repeated the process on her other breast. She watched some of the dark sherry drip down her torso. What he was doing made her bones turn to goo. He took his time, and she realized that for Rafe, it was all about how much pleasure he could give her. They would get to him eventually.

A minute later, she went for his belt buckle. Rafe’s husky chuckles made her pussy throb. “Ah. Just remembered I have clothes on, huh?”

“Shut up.” She sniggered. “I have to concentrate.”

He laughed some more.

“Unless, of course, you don’t care if I damage the crown jewels in my haste?”

“Haste!” He guffawed and smacked her butt. “Great word. Make haste, woman! There is a perfectly good hard-on waiting for your pretty hands.”

He playfully bucked his hips like a male stripper and chanted, “Haste! Haste! Haste!”

Of course, this would be the one time his stupid zipper chose not to cooperate. Struggling just enough to make her feel like a trembling teen about to confront her first trouser snake, she ended up bending for a closer view.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Rafe growled. He only had to lean slightly to reach her ass, which he boldly caressed while she took control of the pants hardware.

Getting her big man out of his clothes left her breathless and sweaty. His idea of helping involved a lewd verbal field trip complete with demonstrations of his Magic Mike prowess.

When he was gloriously naked—and grinning like a jackass—she eyed him stem to stern. He really was a magnificent example of manly beauty. The guy was huge and muscled. Smooth, pumped up, and fully erect. His thighs looked like tree trunks, and his hands? Shit. Rafe gave some of the best arm and hand porn out there.

Pointing at his cock, he audaciously sniggered a taunt. “You planning to ignore that?”

She circled back to the coquette routine and simpered like a brainless beauty queen with some appropriately applied giggles.

“It’s just so big! Should I be frightened or fall worshiply to my knees?”

“Worshiply?”

“Yeah, like this.” She smiled into his playful gaze and wrapped her hand around his dick. The bracelet with the ballet slipper charm twinkled even in the dim light. Pumping slowly, she breathed and sighed, huskily cooing with delight. Rafe shuddered.

Studying the tactile exploration, she marveled when the plump smooth crown of his cock rubbed the circle created by her grip. It wasn’t hard to visualize him inside her with the fat head of his beautiful cock leading the way.

He continued teasing her breasts. His sturdy fingers gently tweaking a nipple, and his rough grunts were making her tingle.

“Girlfriends come with certain privileges,” he growled.

She liked the sound of that and asked him to define with an example.

“In this instance, your first girlfriend reward is an easy one. Lady’s choice. How would you like to be fucked?”

Her answer was automatic and shocked the hell out of her. “I want you to make love to me.”

He looked so pleased that she did a fast double take and then blushed from cheeks to ankles. Cupping her face with both hands, Rafe claimed her lips and slowly reduced her to a shaky, moaning mess with just his tongue and lips.

Until she felt the mattress underneath her, she was blissfully unaware that he moved them onto the bed. The slow, delicious kissing continued. He stroked, caressed, and explored her body without getting too close to her aching pussy.

When he sat up, she complained and reached for him. He kissed her fingers and laughed. “Hold on, honey. The background porn is distracting.” He reached for the remote and turned off the TV. She had forgotten it was on.

An unexpected gurgle of laughter escaped her throat. Rafe looked at her with one brow arched. “Something funny?”

“Remember that horrible X-rated mess we watched the time we stayed in that shitty hotel across the river in Virginia?”

“You mean the desert prince who did awful things to a captive virgin?”

“Yeah.” She laughed. “That’s the one. You’d make a good fuck hero.”

“Fuck hero? Babe, this is how I can tell you’re becoming a Justice gal. Bunch of smart-mouthed females, every one of them.”

She and her bald Goliath never had problems getting their kink on, but she wasn’t much of a dirty talker. He was right. The Justice ladies were audacious vulgarians, and for the first time in her entire life, she felt at ease and comfortable with women. Until now, she had not ventured far from being one of the guys. It was where she felt most comfortable—and invisible.

“I’m glad you like them, honey.”

Domineau heard the encouragement in his soft voice. In a weird way, his support gave her permission to trust. And share.

“I figure any female who could stop Draegyn St. John in his tracks has to have some kind of superpower or magic elixir.”

He stroked with a flat hand from her throat to her abdomen. She writhed like a cat beneath the hand of her owner. His voice was deep and had a sexy growl. “It will do you good to be a girl. And don’t discount what you bring to their quirky tribe.”

The stroking continued. She put her hand on his arm and felt swoony with growing excitement. Her legs parted. She was through talking.

He took her hand and wrapped it around his cock. “Is this what you need?”

She bit her lip. Shit. He would keep pressing until she gave up or gave in. Mr. Romantic needed the words.

Goddammit, but this was harder than it should be. Maybe because Rafe was different. Her feelings for him made this whole thing different. She didn’t see the point in acting, and that wasn’t what he wanted. Overcome with embarrassment, she was about to tap out when it hit her that maybe a little lighthearted naughtiness would make it easier. Not acting, just playfulness.

It was fun to audaciously pump his manly girth and giggle like a nymphet. “Aren’t you cold?” she teased.

His eyes glittered with laughter and lust. It was a good look for him. “What if I am?”

This time, she not only parted her legs in invitation, but she also dug her heels into the mattress and undulated with a throaty growl. “Warm and wet. Just the way you prefer.”

It was a relief when he chuckled. “What I like is having exclusive rights. Possession turns me on.”

My goodness. He had never said that before. She watched him move with a grace that came naturally. Sitting on his feet between her spread thighs, he stared at her pussy and licked his lips.

“Arms above your head,” he commanded. “I don’t want you to do anything but lie there and feel me stretch your pussy.”

She raised her hands and crossed her wrists. Everything about the moment made her feel vulnerable and desperate. He was asking for everything. She was painfully afraid of disappointing him but pushed the crushing worry aside.

The background became fuzzy when he moved and filled her gaze. His size affected her—deeply. She craved the sensation of Rafe’s solid heaviness pressing her into the mattress. With him—only with him—Domineau felt her most feminine, and maybe that was why when he asked what she needed from him, her answer had come so easily. Make love to me.

“Look at me.” His voice was thick with arousal. “I know you aren’t ready for this, but we’re done with the shadow relationship. If all you can handle right now is being a girlfriend, I’m okay with that.”

Relief coursed through her, and she exhaled heavily. Had she been holding her breath?

“But,” he growled, “I love you, and I’ve waited long enough. Understand?”

A jerky nod was all she had. And then she breathlessly added, “Don’t give up on me.”

Time stood still. Their eyes locked. She couldn’t say the words—not yet—but the shaky plea came a close second.

He lay on top of her and entered her body with a slowness that stole her breath. She automatically lifted her knees and clutched his back with her legs. Slow-moving ecstasy coursed through her system. Rafe grunted and claimed her neck with an aggressive bite that left her quivering. It took so little for him to express his dominance.

Something shifted inside her when they began the dance of making love. Excitement made her skin prickle. The sensation was exhilarating and sexy. Her nipples became hard and ached with need. The challenge of keeping her hands up made her legs grip his body more firmly.

His kiss was lethal. She felt her emotions unravel under the heady onslaught from his lips and tongue. Each stroke of his cock ended with a thud as he filled her completely.

Feelings swamped Domineau and drove her to the edge of her emotions. Rafe’s kisses and his growling words of love as his cock drove her higher. She writhed beneath his churning hips. A flood followed by a tsunami of arousal enflamed her senses.

“Oh god,” she groaned. “Rafe.”

“I’m here, baby,” he grunted. “Making love to my beautiful woman. You feel so fucking good.”

She was melting.

“Hang on. I need to …” He reared back and slammed deep in a series of frenzied, powerful strokes. Blinded by lust, she whimpered and begged for all of him. It was too much. She came so suddenly and fiercely that she cried out. The pulsing throb as her pussy claimed Rafe’s cock drew loud grunts from his center.

There were words, but she was too limp to answer. He gathered her close and slowed his thrusts. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. Rafe had taken them on a bone-melting carnal journey that left her shaken.

After he slowly and deliciously coaxed another orgasm from her quivering body, it was time for his pleasure. He was magnificent—stroking with a rhythm that helped empty her brain. She absorbed his manly grunts and answered his desire with her churning hips.

He rose above her. She knew the look on his face. He was going to come. Caressing his powerful arms as his muscles quivered from the effort, she felt his thighs harden to rock and whimpered her satisfaction.

He surprised her at the end by pulling out and fisting his swollen cock until he came on her stomach. Watching his big hand pump his arousal-covered cock was hot as fuck. Domineau moaned as he ejaculated onto her flesh. It was a claiming, and she found the act deeply satisfying. Just because she couldn’t say the words didn’t mean she wasn’t completely committed.

Rafe’s pleasure shouldn’t have taken her by surprise, but it did. When he collapsed beside her and pulled her close, she went eagerly into his arms.

There was no talking. He cuddled her close and repeatedly kissed the hand she put on his chest. Eventually, he took a deep breath and sighed.

He held up her hand. The plain delicate bracelet with the ballet shoe charm lay against her wrist. “You wore the bracelet for Molly, didn’t you?”

How could she explain something that she didn’t understand?

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” she muttered.

He immediately sighed. “Being prickly is the same as running.”

“Stop being right. Unfair advantage.”

His rumbling chuckle vibrated beneath her cheek. She pressed a soft kiss onto his warm skin. Rearranging her sprawl, she tucked in close and rested her chin on the hand she put on his shoulder. If they were going to talk, she needed the comfort of his solid presence.

Without a clue of where or how to start, she took the first exit to appear in her thoughts and stepped into the past. He already knew about her love of dance. What she had to say was like coloring an outline.

“Suburban kids did two things. Little League for the boys and dance classes for the girls. Dance is dance, and we learned everything. Square dances, tap dancing, the jitterbug, hip hop, and waltzes. But when I discovered ballet as a five-year-old, I was convinced I’d revealed my calling in life.”

“Must be a chick thing because Molly is obsessed.”

“Understandable. The elegance and beauty captivated me, and my parents were all too happy to feed my interest. The annual Nutcracker Festival was automatic on the family schedule. Dancing was my thing.”

Rafe stroked her back. “Your parents called you Rina?”

“Yeah.” She quickly explained and even pronounced the formal Portuguese word. “Dad was a big, burly man.”

The thunderbolt of awareness her description unleashed didn’t make her squirm, but it did reveal a lot about her attraction to Rafe.

“He liked NASCAR and Led Zeppelin with a side of heavyweight boxing. Someplace, amidst the shitload of stuff I keep in storage, there’s a pic of him with Muhammad Ali. Oh, and another of him and my mom posing in front of the Rocky statue.”

Her big man chuckled and gave her a hug. “I fucking love that statue. Did he run up the steps too? Shit. That Ninja fuck St. John is the only person to ever beat me to the top!”

She could only laugh at the visual. “What were you doing in Philadelphia? And with Sinjin in tow. Do I even wanna know?”

Rafe paused a moment and then had a good laugh. “Oh, man. Had to think for a second but I remember. Right about the time the team first formed, me and him were in DC giving hand jobs to the Pentagon brass. Long story and of zero importance. Anyway, his folks were in Philly for some reason. I think Arthur was involved with the stock exchange. They shocked Sinjin’s trust-fund collar, and he made me go with. In case he needed backup.”

“He made you?” She smirked. “Pretty boy St. John made you do something? Rafe, come on. You can bench press that silver-plated turd in your sleep.”

“Be nice.” He sniggered. “I like Draegyn. The man was born with all the wrong instincts, but he was smart enough to recognize that fact and eventually learned to distinguish between dumbass and survive.”

Wow. She’d never quite heard it put that way, but he was right. Drae had spectacular instincts. Like, scary spectacular. She’d follow him off a cliff if that were his call. When coupled with his unbeatable martial arts talents, he more than earned his ninja title. But there was no denying in certain areas of his personal life that he took being a complete shit to new heights.

“We did the Philly tour. Ate cheesesteaks and Tastycakes until I thought we’d burst. Discovered the sugar coma joy of a black and white milkshake. The Liberty Bell? Yeah, that was the shit. Rocky was the highlight for me. I’m glad if your dad liked that sort of thing that he got to experience it.”

Domineau fought the melancholy that accompanied memories of her parents. It took a lot of mental energy to Photoshop her brother out of the picture.

“He did the dance dad thing too,” she told him. “Like you.”

Rafe’s eyes held hers. She didn’t try to hide her feelings

“Molly asked if I had pointe shoes. Little girls love all that toe crap.” She shrugged. “Got my first pair from Dad when I was still too young. He wanted me to have them early and said something about dreaming big.”

Melancholy decided to stick around and pulled up a chair to settle in her gut. She tasted the bitterness of every word waiting to be said.

“By the time I got to use them, I wasn’t a little kid anymore. I guess taking a bullet in the chest acted as a growth stimulant. At thirteen, I was taller than every kid in school. The ballerina dream died before my eyes, like everything else.”

Rafe hugged her, but she wasn’t anywhere near finished with this sad tale. Not even close.

“Ballet connected me to my mom and dad. It didn’t matter that my height stuck a fork in my dance aspirations. I wanted to keep at it because that’s all I had. My aunt turned it into a weakness and used it against me.”

She felt Rafe stiffen. If hearing just that little bit got a reaction, wait till he heard the rest of it.

“Judy Waite was then and continues to be a classic cunt. Not the new fangled snarky cunt of today. That’s bush league stuff. Judy came from a position of privilege. She and Mom were complete opposites. Mom called it the generation divide. Judy was Johnny Mathis while Mom was the Beatles. In Judy’s book, she was white, skinny, and stuck-up—three things a classic cunt needed.”

Unable to remain still, she pushed off Rafe’s body and sat up. Her state of undress seemed ironic. Once she had her say, she’d be emotionally naked.

He pushed up too and rested against the headboard. He crossed his feet at the ankles and pretended to relax, but she wasn’t fooled. Rafe was hanging on every word.

“Bottom line—Mom and Judy despised each other. Dad hated her for being such a bitch. When the thing happened, my parents were young. Barely forty. Their will didn’t take murder into account, so Judy got stuck with me.”

The rest of it lodged uncomfortably in her throat. She slouched over and hid in her hair.

“Um, the thing is, Judy sorta took the other side.”

“Excuse me?” Rafe’s growl was somehow comforting.

“Yeah. As far as I know, she continues to visit the penitentiary. She’s a waiting room regular.”

That wasn’t all, but she couldn’t deal with the latest bullshit her aunt was pulling.

“I wanted no part of her charade. She tried to force the issue. Counseling, psychiatrists, lawyers. I didn’t care what she did, the answer was no. No. No. No. No fucking means no.”

“Is it too late to kill the bitch?” He grunted.

She ignored his reaction and hurried to say the rest. “So she blackmailed me. I couldn’t have my ballet unless I agreed to her terms. The battle was long and arduous. Lawyers got involved. In the end, I agreed to go to the penitentiary but not to get out of the car. That meant every Saturday, we drove to the state armpit where I would be left to survive in either a sweltering hot or freezing car while she played her cunt game. The result was this—I got to take one class a week. On Friday night. Saturday was spent being tortured, and Sunday was the Lord’s day. No time for friends or extracurricular stuff. That’s why I never had girlfriends.”

“Don’t be afraid of Marielle,” he murmured. “She just wants to know you. That’s all.”

“Why did you tell her about me, Rafe? Why? I don’t understand. Until the team went on mission, there was a better than good possibility we were never going to cross paths again.”

“It wasn’t about seeing you again. It was about being honest, Domineau. I knew when she was born that some day I’d be explaining why she didn’t have a mother. Why a gestational surrogate carried her. I wasn’t fucking around when I said it was always going to be you, or nobody.”

“She wants a mother. You know I can’t do that.”

He caressed her arm. “Sweetie, don’t do that, okay? Don’t make a sweeping pronouncement and not explain why you think that.”

“I can’t be a parent.” She said it with swift precision.

“Big difference between can’t and won’t. Tell me why, Rina. Tell me why this freaks you out.”

It was unfair that she heard the endearment through a haze of memory, but she was the one who opened this can of worms.

The words wanted out. They were clawing at her throat. The eleven-year-old who watched her parents die in front of her eyes started wailing in her soul. The agony was unbearable.

“Do you think my parents thought that one day their son would blow their brains out? Huh? Do you? I can’t, Rafe. There’s barely enough of me left to scrape together a functioning person. If that happened again, it’d kill me for sure.”

“Oh, baby. Don’t cry. That’s not going to happen. You don’t have to spend your whole life paying for something you didn’t do. Isn’t that what you told Remington? Don’t you see? There’s a family right in front of you waiting to welcome you home.”

She didn’t cry. It did no good, but that didn’t stop Domineau from clutching at Rafe while a lifetime of tears drenched his chest.

“Just give us a chance, honey. That’s all I’m asking. You and me—you, me, and Marielle. Give us a chance.”

* * *

Coffee was a miserable choice for a three a.m. beverage, but he didn’t give a fuck. He needed the bitter dark brew to open his head.

Leaning his butt against the kitchen counter, Rafe took a mouthful of the scalding beverage, then tracked the heat as it washed over his tongue, scorched his throat, and warmed his belly.

The turmoil wrestling in his thoughts was making his heart beat faster. He wanted to find Aunt Judy and shit in her oatmeal.

Well, actually, he wanted to go full Justice on her, but being a self-righteous cunt wasn’t a capital offense. That did not mean, however, that he had to let her off the hook. Not when he thought about the hell she put Domineau through.

Snap decisions made over middle-of-the-night coffee probably needed a cooler head and the light of day, but he didn’t stop to analyze his response. From the table by the front door, he grabbed his phone and noticed the flamingo key chain. For reasons he didn’t care to pick apart, Rafe took this as a sign he was doing the right thing.

Doing the right thing and remembering it was three thirty in the morning were not the same thing, which explained why he chose that moment to send a lengthy text to Jason, explaining what he wanted. He didn’t doubt Domineau also kept the bitch in her scope, but he wanted a complete overview of the situation. The woman asleep in his bed had been through enough, goddammit. It was time for her to stand down and let her man handle things.

A chortling cackle of laughter ripped from his throat. Her man! Ahahahaaa!