Dom X - The Complete Box Set: Alpha Male Romance (2 page)

I
t had taken Zed all
of two minutes to scope out our prospects for the night. We'd gotten a bit of a later start than Zed wanted, but I'd told him it was his fault. I'd been happy with the jeans and t-shirt combination I'd picked, but Zed had vetoed it. He'd eventually come up with a black t-shirt that I'd been meaning to throw away because it'd shrunk an entire size. Zed had insisted it was fashionably tight. I'd worn it more to shut him up than anything else. At least he'd let me keep the jeans.

No matter how many times I told him that I was perfectly capable of dressing myself and finding a woman, he didn't quite believe me. As obsessed with my apparent lack of fashion as he was, if I hadn't known how much he loved women, I would've thought he was gay.

“Let me guess.”

A woman's voice came from my right.

“You're the wingman.”

I turned to see a tall, athletically built woman with short, cinnamon-colored curls walking toward me. She had a pleasant face and knew how to use her makeup to accent her best features, which were clearly those dark blue eyes.

“What gave it away?” I asked wryly.

“Your friend is dancing with my roommate.” She gestured toward the dance floor where Zed had plastered himself to a petite blonde.

I chuckled and gestured to the barstool next to me. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Thanks.” She sat down, crossing one impossibly long leg over the other. “I'm Nance.”

She put out her hand for me to shake, and I did. Nice and firm, without being masculine. “I'm X.”

“X?”

I grinned. “Yeah. It's short for Xavier.”

She nodded and gave me a lingering once-over. “I like it. Easier to scream in bed.”

My eyebrows went up, and I didn't bother to mask my surprise at her forward comment. “I suppose it is.”

She smiled at me and motioned to the bartender. “Madras, please.”

“Another Jack and Coke for me,” I said when he looked over at me.

“Nice ink.” She motioned to my left arm.

“Thanks.” I glanced down even though I knew what it looked like.

The vines wound up my arm from my wrist, disappearing under my shirt sleeve, then across my shoulder and chest until they connected with the rose I'd had done over my heart. Two sets of initials were inside the rose, AH and MH. That had been my first tattoo. Two months after my eighteenth birthday. Two months after I'd decided I was going to do something with my life.

“Do you have others?”

Nance's voice pulled me out of the past and I was grateful. While I wasn't quite as determined as Zed, I wouldn’t say no to sex, and this conversation had the potential to end in bed. Much better than thinking about my miserable childhood.

“I do.” I pulled up my right sleeve and twisted toward her so she could see the barbed wire around my upper arm. “There's a flag on my shoulder.” I straightened and pulled up the bottom of my shirt. “And this one.” The Celtic sun around my belly button had been part of a dare my senior year of high school.

“Nice.” The admiration in her voice and eyes made it clear that she wasn't just referring to the quality of the design and the ink. “Army?”

I nodded. “That obvious?”

She shrugged, a smile playing around her lips. “Not exactly. Your friend likes to talk.”

I laughed. “Yes, he does,” I agreed. “What about you?”

“Do I like to talk?” she teased.

I took a drink and waited for her to actually answer. This wouldn’t be anything beyond a night of sex, maybe two nights if she wasn't busy tomorrow, but I'd never been good at the sort of hookups that didn't have at least some of this song and dance.

“I'm a teacher,” she said. “Kindergarten.”

“Married?” I asked as I looked down at her hand. I may not have been looking for a relationship, but I still had rules, and one was that I didn't help women cheat.

She shook her head. “Why bother?” She leaned closer and put her hand on my knee. “It's a lot more fun meeting people like you.”

“Really?” I asked as I leaned toward her, giving her the opportunity to slide her hand higher up my thigh.

She nodded and put her mouth next to my ear. “I also have a tattoo. And a piercing.”

My dick jumped at her words, going from mildly interested to very interested in a matter of seconds. I could take or leave tattoos or piercings on women, but something about Nance told me that I definitely wanted to find hers.

“You think your roommate will care if I take you back to your place without her?” I asked. “I'm pretty sure Zed'll end up back there tonight anyway.”

She slid off the stool and moved between my legs. With me sitting, we were the same height. Her eyes met mine, then flicked down, as if she couldn't hold my gaze very long. I wondered if she was second-guessing her flirting. I hoped not, because I didn't want to sit around here, trying to find someone else.

I slid my hands up her legs to her hips and pulled her closer, fingers just barely on her firm ass. “Look at me,” I said.

She did.

“Do you want me to take you back to your place so we can fuck?” I asked bluntly.

She nodded.

“Say it,” I said. “I need you to tell me what you want so we're not misunderstanding each other.”

It might've seemed like overkill, but I'd known too many men who'd gotten themselves in trouble because they'd thought one thing and their date had thought something else. I would stop when and if I was asked, but I wasn't a mind-reader.

“I want you to fuck me,” she said, her voice soft. Her hand slid down my chest to rest on my denim-clad crotch. “I want to make you feel good.”

I stood up, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her from stumbling as she took a step backward. I reached into my pocket, pulled out some cash and tossed it onto the bar. As I led Nance toward the door, Zed glanced my way and I gave him a nod. That damn smile gleamed even brighter in the lights.

The ride to Nance's apartment was thankfully short. Her hands were all over me, her mouth on my neck until I was pretty sure I’d end up with a hickey. It wasn't until she tried unzipping me right there in the back of the cab that I took control. I wrapped my hand around both of her wrists and pulled her off.

“No,” I said firmly. “I don't do exhibition.”

She gave me a pouty look that made me wonder what it would be like to have those lips wrapped around my cock right here and now, but even that couldn't dissuade me. Hooking up with some random I met at a bar was one thing. The army wouldn't look too kindly on me being arrested for indecent exposure.

Her apartment was on the third floor, but not surprisingly, the elevator wasn't working. With Nance being a teacher, and I was assuming that her roommate was something along the same lines, even their joint income wouldn't be enough to get them into something bigger. It was big enough for what I wanted though.

It had two bedrooms, and that was all I cared about. The walls were thin, so I knew we'd be hearing Zed and the roommate when they came in, but I could deal with that. What I hadn't wanted was two beds in a single room where I'd have to actually see Zed performing. That was a little too personal for me.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Nance asked as she took my hand and led me down the narrow hallway. On the right was an open door that led to the bathroom, then two closed doors on the left, one closed door on the right. She opened the one on the right.

I didn't really see much of the bedroom because only a faint exterior light was coming in, making everything gray. I did see a bed, which was enough for me.

“You didn't answer my question,” Nance said as she closed the door behind us. “How do you want to do this?”

My pulse quickened as I realized she was serious. She wanted me to tell her what to do. Despite how forward she'd been in the bar, she was pulling back now, letting me call the shots.

“Take off your dress,” I said as I pulled my shirt over my head.

She immediately complied, reaching around to unzip the back and then shimmying out of it. At least that told me she wasn't too drunk for this. Then I was staring at the skimpy black lace bra and panties she was wearing. The bra barely covered her breasts, leaving a hint of her nipples showing. The panties were sheer enough that I could see the flames where hair had been.

“Bed.” I jerked with my chin and then stripped off my pants. “Condoms?” I asked.

She gestured to the bedside drawer. I took the few steps necessary to take me there. They were on top and I grabbed one, tossing it onto the bed next to her. I wasn't planning on having more than one go. I'd make Nance come at least once, but I wasn't planning on doing anything like cuddling afterward.

I tossed my underwear onto my pants and shirt, making a mental note of where they were in the room so I'd be able to grab them easily when it was time to leave. I then climbed into the bed. Nance leaned on her elbows, looking up at me with a cat-that-ate-the-canary kind of smile. Her eyes ran down over me, and I wrapped my hand around my cock, letting her watch as I stroked myself.

Her tongue ran out, licking her bottom lip, but she didn't take her eyes off my hand as I slowly moved it up and down. I wanted to feel that tongue on me, licking me, tasting me. Those lips were made to go around a cock, to suck every last drop of cum from it.

It had been a long time since I'd had a good blow-job. One of the last girls I'd hooked up with had given me a decent one, but as long as there was latex in the way, it'd never be a great one, but I sure as hell wasn't doing any sort of sex without a barrier, oral or otherwise. I’d not been with the same woman more than once or twice since my only steady girlfriend when I was fifteen. Definitely not long enough for anyone to gain my trust. But that was okay. I considered myself fortunate to have two people who I could trust. Zed and the Father. That was more than enough.

I ran my hands up Nance's legs, moving them apart and then settling between them. I leaned down, moving my hands over her hips, up her ribcage and around to cup her breasts. She moaned as I rubbed my thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden under my touch.

I reached up and pulled the straps of her bra down, taking the cups with it. I didn't take it off though. I left her breasts exposed, her arms lightly restrained by the straps. I leaned down, shivering a bit as my cock brushed against her skin. I hadn't realized how long it'd been since I'd had anything other than my hand.

“Damn, you're hot.” Nance ran her fingers over my hair.

“Right back at you.” I flicked out my tongue against her nipple, chuckling as she made a whimpering sound. This wasn't the start of a relationship or anything like that, but I was, at least, going to enjoy myself.

I traced a circle around her nipple with the tip of my tongue, then took the whole thing into my mouth, sucking hard and long until she was panting and writhing. Her nails dug into my scalp, each scratch sending a new jolt of pleasure through me. When I switched to the other breast, she gasped, her back arching up against my mouth. Her hips moved as if seeking the friction I hadn't yet given her.

“Easy,” I said as I lifted my head. My eyes met hers, the heat I saw there fueling my own desire. “I'll get you there.”

I dropped a hand down between us even as I began to kiss down her jaw and neck. I rubbed my fingers across the damp crotch of her panties and she pushed against my hand. I raised my head as my fingers found something hard.

“Told you I had a piercing.” She was breathless, but grinned at me.

Seriously? This kindergarten teacher had her fucking clit pierced? I smiled against her skin as I slipped a finger beneath the elastic and found her wet. I also caught a better look at her tattoo. Damn.

“Oh, fuck!” she called out as I slid a finger inside.

I raised myself up on my elbow so I could look down at her while I moved my finger in and out of her, letting my thumb toy with the little metal ball, each pass making Nance moan and squirm even more. After a couple strokes, I pushed a second finger inside.

“Yes,” she hissed.

“I'm going to make you come,” I said. “And then I'm going to fuck you and make you come again.”

Then I curled my fingers and searched for that little spot inside her that would make her wail. I knew that I'd found it a few moments later when she did just that. Her pussy clamped down around my fingers almost painfully tight, but I kept up the pressure inside her, kept my thumb pushing against the piercing until I knew that sensitive bundle of nerves had to be screaming. I kept her coming until her body flopped limply onto the bed.

“Good girl.” I pulled my fingers out and then reached for the condom packet.

By the time I ripped it open and rolled it on, Nance was looking up at me, her fingers toying with her piercing. She gave me an appreciative look as I put the tip of my cock against her still-pulsing opening.

“Hard and fast?” I made it a question even though I already knew what I wanted.

“Please.” She raised her legs, hugging her knees to her chest.

I took that as the invitation it was and drove into her with one hard stroke. She cried out, but it wasn't a sound of pain. It was pure pleasure, and something deep inside me twisted.

I moved hard and fast, just as I'd promised, pounding into her until she was no longer saying my name or words, but rather just sounds that mixed with the noise of our bodies coming together. And then I was swearing, every muscle in my body tensing. I ground down against her, knowing I was putting what had to be painful pressure on her clit, and then she was screaming my name, clawing at my back, and I was coming too. Grateful to spiral out into the mind-numbing pleasure for as long as I could manage.

A
ll in all
, it wasn't a bad shift. Leta was knocked out on her meds the next time I went into her room, so nothing there, and Ivar was his usual joking self. There were no surprises, no medical emergencies. Everyone was pleasant, even the ones who were in pain. The meds were on time, the wounds easy enough to redress. No one cussed me out or threw anything at me.

But even with all of that, working the burn unit was never simple. Seeing not only the results of accidents, but too often the cruelty of one human to another. None of that got any easier.

I breathed out a slow breath as I got my things from my locker and headed for the elevators. Riding down, I pulled out my phone and checked the messages. Two calls from my mom and a voicemail.

Shit. I sighed. If Mom wanted to chat about something and it wasn't important, she usually just sent a text, asking me to call when I got the chance. The fact that she'd called more than once told me it wasn't something minor.

As soon as I stepped outside, I listened to the message. Not quite as bad as I'd feared, but not great either.

“Hey, Nori, sweetheart, I know you're working and you won't get this until you get off, but I need you to check on your dad. You know Friday nights are the best tip nights or I'd call off and do it myself. He's not answering his phone and I'm worried.”

I didn't need to hear the rest. I knew how it'd go because I'd gotten some version of this sort of call at least a hundred times since their divorce had been finalized about five years ago. I couldn't say it was an amicable divorce, but it hadn't been an ugly divorce either. It'd been more like the two of them hadn't been able to handle what staying together would mean. The constant reminders every time they saw each other.

The thing that made it so aggravating was that it hadn't simply ended there. I sometimes thought it would've been easier if they'd just hated each other. But Mom didn't hate Dad, even though she’d been the one who'd filed for divorce. In the past five years, she'd never even looked at another man, and she wasn't even coy about it when asked.

She still loved him.

Dad...well, Dad was indifferent. He'd been indifferent about life in general for too long. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him express any sort of real emotion.

And that was what worried Mom. She'd married him when she was eighteen, but they'd dated since he was fourteen. Her whole life had been wrapped up in Dad and our family, and then, suddenly, it'd all blown up. Sure, some of the pieces had still been there, but none of them had fit together anymore, not the way they had before.

I shot off a text to my mom, letting her know that I'd stop by Dad's on my way home. She didn't respond, but I knew she was busy. She'd get it on her next break.

When I got into my car, all I wanted to do was go home, change and head out for some relaxing one-on-one time with my boyfriend, but I didn't even consider skipping Dad's and going straight home. If I hadn't planned on going, I would've been honest about it. I may not have approved of how my mom couldn't let things go, but I wouldn't lie to her.

The drive from the hospital to Dad's was only about fifteen minutes when traffic was good, and it wasn't good at the moment, so it took closer to a half an hour, which meant it was well past seven when I pulled up in front of the apartment building where I'd grown up. Dad had stayed there when Mom left, but I knew it hadn't been out of sentimentality. It'd been easier than finding a new place.

I pulled out my keys as I headed up the stairs. I would knock first, but I had keys just in case. Most of the time, when I got one of these calls, I ended up using them. After knocking on the door twice with no answer, I figured this would be another one of those times.

“Dad?” I called softly as I opened the door. “Dad, it's Nori.”

I took a couple of steps inside and closed the door behind me.

“Dad? Mom called. She was worried.”

Still no response.

If I hadn't done this dozens of times before, I might've been worried. I wasn't though. I just kept going, walking out of the short entryway and through the kitchen. It was clean enough, but the lack of dirty dishes didn't surprise me. Dad ate out of cartons and drank from cans. That meant more garbage, but less cleaning up.

I didn't stop in the kitchen though. I kept going until I reached the living room. I heard the tv before I saw that it was on, so I knew I was heading in the right direction. Dad wasn't sleeping in his room. And my suspicions were confirmed when I saw the cans littering the floor next to one end of the couch. The carpet there was already stained from years of spilled beer, so I didn't even bother to see if it was damp.

What I was focused on was the man passed out on the couch itself. And I knew he was passed out and not simply sleeping because I'd found him this way more times than I cared to count. His salt and pepper hair was more salt now, receding back enough from his forehead that I could see shiny skin where I hadn't been able to before. His skin was drawn and gray, far more wrinkled than it should've been for someone who wasn't yet sixty. Everything our family had been through had changed all of us, had aged both of my parents beyond their years.

I leaned down to check his breathing, to make sure I wasn't imagining seeing his chest go up and down. Once I'd made sure he was still alive, I set about my usual way of getting him up and moving. He was taller than me, but I'd spent the last few years maneuvering men bigger than my father and with just as much dead weight.

I got him into the bathroom and into the tub, turning on the cold water, then standing back. It took only a few minutes before Dad was spluttering and cursing. He wasn't fully awake, but he was conscious enough that I was able to give him clean clothes and trust that he could change without passing out again. I drew the line at dressing my father simply because he was a drunk. More than once, I'd left him in his boxers because he belligerently refused to dress.

When he came out of the bathroom, he gave me a bleary-eyed look and then headed into his bedroom. I leaned on the hallway wall as I watched him collapse on the bed. While I waited to hear his snores, I pulled out my phone and texted my mom again, letting her know that my dad was okay.

Once I'd done that, I sent another message, this one to my boyfriend. Tanner would already be back at his place, but I knew he'd be waiting to see if I was feeling up to going out tonight. I was drained from work, but I knew that a night out with Tanner would be far more relaxing for me than getting some extra sleep.

My dad started to snore even as Tanner sent a message back.

Want to hit a club, then back to my place?

He was partially right, but I didn't want to go to just any club. I needed more than a bit of alcohol and some dancing. I needed the release that came with the sort of special relationship Tanner and I had.

Black Masque.
I sent back. That was where I wanted to go. Where I needed to go.

Tanner’s response was almost immediate.

Come to my place first. I'll have clothes ready. You can dress here
.

There was only one response for me to give to that.

Yes, sir
.