All He Needs
Page 93

 C.C. Gibbs

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She knew how he felt. She’d missed him every minute of the day, every second while she was multitasking and actually doing her work. And she’d been waiting for his knock on the door, had almost begun to despair when he arrived.
Dominic was undressed before she’d tossed her robe on a chair and made it to the bed. He picked her off her feet, dropped her on the bed, and fell on top of her with an explosive urgency and a murmured, “Forgive me.”
He was frantic at first. She’d never seen him like that. He was always incredibly restrained, as though he could last forever; he could last forever. But this time he came almost the instant he entered her, panted “Sorry,” and a few moments later proceeded to come again when she climaxed.
“God, you feel… good,” he groaned, resting inside her as she gasped for air, his dick still rock hard. “You’re going to have to kick me when you can’t stand it anymore. I can go all night.” His adrenaline was pumped up to the max, from frustration and anger, from lust and horniness, from feelings he couldn’t define that burned through his body and brain.
“That works out then cuz I really need you.” She ran her hands down his back as though vetting his presence, compelled by her own urgencies, her sense of loss in his absence profound. Dominic had been gone only a night and a day and she’d missed him desperately: the feel of him in her and over her, the pleasure he offered that lit up her world, his warm smile and goodness. And she was filled now with such overwhelming gratitude that he’d returned she was near tears. Shaky. She had her own addictions, and her next hit was in sight. “Oh, hell,” she gulped, trying anything to keep from crying, even running through accounting formulas to divert her thoughts. And for a second it worked… until unassailable emotion overwhelmed the flood gates.
“Jesus, baby, don’t cry,” Dominic whispered, dipping his head and kissing away her tears. “If I did something, I’m sorry.”
“I’m… not… crying because… I’m sad,” she sobbed, clutching his back with white-knuckled fervor, weeping uncontrollably. “I’m just… happy… you’re back.”
He clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth would crack. Dragging in a breath, he slowly exhaled; then wiping the wetness from Katherine’s cheeks with the sheet, he rolled over, sat up, and pulled her onto his lap. “Okay, we both need a quick breather.” Reaching over, he picked up the box of tissues from the bedside table, took out a handful, and handed them to her because she was wailing like a baby now.
“Sorry,” she hiccupped between sobs, super embarrassed, her nose dripping; she was gasping for breath.
“Everything’s good. Cry all you want. I’ll get more tissue if you need it.” And he held her and handed her tissue and kissed her gently until her tears finally stopped.
“I suppose it’s really great to come home to this,” Kate said, wiping her eyes for the last time and tossing the tissue. “Every man’s dream.”
Coming home. He remembered Katherine saying that in San Francisco and it hit him in the gut now just as it had then. “Hey, you’re my dream no matter what,” he said, overcome by a sudden wave of exhaustion as though his adrenaline had finally given out. He had been kidding himself—his decision in Rome had not been unemotional. He didn’t want anything to change. No three-month break, no playing his numbers game.
“Thanks.” Her voice was unsteady again; she wanted to believe he meant what he said when she wasn’t so sure about anything with Dominic. “Let’s talk about nothing until I get myself together.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, baby.” Nothing was a helluva lot better than the total mess screwing with his head. “So tell me about your first day at work. Who did you meet? What did you do? Do I have to crack any heads cuz some guys came onto you?”
She giggled.
Which was the point. He had to get through the night. Keep his shit together. He asked questions, she answered, and neither did anything irretrievably foolish. She described her first day at work. She told him of the projects assigned to her, the exciting scope of the problems, how she was looking forward to solving them.
“So you like a challenge,” he noted lightly. “That must be why we get along. You figure you’re going to fix me up someday.”
She smiled. “As if I could.”
“I like when you try.” He shrugged. “Who knows, you might get lucky.”
“I’m lucky already,” she said, forcing down the tears swelling in her throat. “I have you in my life.”
“There you go. Step one. Ten thousand more and you might be halfway to making me human. Remember?” he teased because he could see her struggling to hold back more tears and he’d talk about anything to keep his mind off his looming wedding. “You scolded me once about joining the human race. Now, tell me,” he said, changing the subject to something even safer, “did you run into Justin today? Or is he on a different floor?”
“I met his wife. She came into the office.”
“How is she?”
“Nice. Friendly. A tall, willowy blonde, beautiful of course.”
“Why of course?”
“Because Justin makes a very good living so he gets to choose from the classy women. She was pregnant.”
“Ah… I was wondering what you meant.”
“She invited me to dinner sometime.”