All He Needs (All or Nothing) (6 page)

W
hen they reached the trading station, Dominic helped Kate with her clothes, escorted her into the main house, and came to a halt in the entrance hall. “Tan will show you to the conservatory,” he said with a glance at the young man who’d opened the door for them. “Give me a minute to clear up a few things.”

She shot him a spiking glance, tinged with suspicion. “I hope that doesn’t mean you have to hustle some woman out of your bedroom,” she said under her breath, not as cavalier as Dominic when it came to staff who were close enough to hear.

“Ye of little faith,” he said with a full smile. “It’s business.” He’d deliberately not immediately escorted her to his bedroom as a matter of courtesy. Tact and conciliation—that was his plan.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

Whether it was a threat or a plea he understood the message. “Literally, two minutes.” He brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

But of course it wasn’t two minutes. It was closer to fifteen minutes by the time Dominic had seen that his security understood the newest mafia threat in the city and he was assured that the trading station was securely locked down. Tan’s relatives would be summoned as well. His family came
from a warrior culture slightly tamed by modern legalities, but not entirely pacified.

When he walked into the conservatory—home to a superb collection of orchids—he glanced at the coffee service on the table and the cup in Kate’s hand and grinned. “Coffee? Am I expected to be up all night?”

“You are.” She gave him a happy smile buttressed by her recent orgasm and some delicious chocolate petit fours. “Otherwise, I’d be wasting my time.”

“We certainly wouldn’t want that,” he said, taking a seat opposite her, stretching his legs out, and making himself comfortable on the cushioned rattan chair.

She pointed at the silver pot. “Coffee?”

“I’m good, thanks. My adrenaline is pumping big time.”

“How nice for me,” she murmured, setting her cup down.

“And me. Now all you have to do is tell me what you want. I’m going to be really careful not to cross any red lines tonight, so the agenda’s entirely up to you.”

“Well, first I want to come again. I don’t care how.”

His lashes lowered infinitesimally. “You’d better watch your choice of words, Katherine.”

“How about the usual then?”

A flicker of a smile. “Your usual or mine?”

“I’ll take potluck.”

His smile broadened. “Here I’m trying to be a good boy, and you’re breaking the game wide open. You sure?”

“With that look—probably not.”

An extravagant shrug. “So we’re back at square one.”

“Not necessarily,” she said, a teasing light in her eyes.

He exhaled softly. “Now you’re just fucking with me.”

“You’re better at this than me. If you’re doing something I don’t like, I’ll just say no.” She drew in a small breath. “That’s probably not going to happen.”

The raw need in her voice was like a drug to an addict, the elixir that stole through his senses and made him feel as though, for this moment in time, the world was perfect. “Why don’t we begin with something simple,” he murmured, “and we’ll go on from there. Open your blouse for me.” She was wearing her own clothes—not the clothes he’d bought for her in Amsterdam—the army green slacks he’d seen at her first interview, a plain white blouse, no jewelry, tan lace-up shoes.

A small start. “Here?”

“Yes, here.”

“Your staff,” she said nervously.

He dipped his head faintly. “Just do it, Katherine.”

She hesitated, quickly scanned the plant-filled conservatory, the colorful orchids spilling down the trunks of trees, the open door to the terrace and the tropical night.

“None of it’s a problem,” he said gently, watching her quick survey of the nineteenth-century glass house. “I thought you wanted to come again,” he prompted, his lounging pose unaltered, his voice mild. “Open your blouse and we’ll get started.”

“Please, Dominic,” she whispered, shifting slightly in her chair. “There are people around.”

“I don’t see anyone.”

“They might come in any minute.”

“Not unless you call them. Would you like some company?”

“God, no.” But perversely, a lustful jolt shuddered through her and she clenched her thighs together.

“Really, Katherine,” he said with a faint smile. “You’re getting wet, aren’t you? Does the thought of performing in public appeal to you?”

“Absolutely not!”

“Should I check?”

“No, stay away,” she said tensely.

“Me—stay away?” His voice was soft with insolence. “Would you prefer Johnny Chen? I’m sure he’d be happy to fuck you, although I don’t think you’d enjoy him. I’m guessing he’d come in two seconds and then what would you do?”

“And I suppose you wouldn’t?” She knew it was stupid even as she said it, but Dominic’s unfettered arrogance never failed to get a rise out of her.

“If you’re going to be argumentative, at least be reasonable,” he said amiably. “No, I wouldn’t come in two seconds, as you well know. So take off your blouse.” He smiled. “Pretty please?”

She blew out a breath. “I don’t know how you’re always so restrained, when I’m falling apart.” She tried to suppress her libido, reminding herself how she disliked Dominic’s corrupting power, how she disapproved of docilely yielding to him. That she’d left Dominic in order to avoid relinquishing her freedom.

“I like that in you,” he said pleasantly, immune to issues of power when he wielded incomparable authority. “I like your irrepressible passion. Please don’t change.”

She sighed, smiling faintly. “As if I could.”

“Lucky me,” he said. “You’re not wearing a bra,” he added in a cooler tone, jealous of every man who came near her. “You must have made Johnny Chen very happy.”

“Everyone’s not like you, Dominic.”

“Any man likes big tits,” he murmured. “You must have given Johnny a hard-on a dozen times a day. Whenever you’re ready, Katherine.” He opened his sports coat slightly to expose his prominent erection.
Maybe power wasn’t irrelevant after all, maybe the thought of Johnny Chen looking at his tits required payback
.

She dragged in a breath, flushed rosy pink.

“You can have this as soon as you get undressed.” His voice was blunt, exacting.

“I shouldn’t.” An automatic response when Dominic spoke as though he owned the world and everyone in it.

“Just so we’re clear, Katherine. I play this game only because you like it.”

“
You
do too.”

He shrugged faintly. “I don’t
dislike
it, but I like lots of things. It doesn’t have to be this.”

“So I could choose something else?” Her lips twitched impudently. “I could tell
you
what to do?”

“Perhaps.” Had Johnny Chen seen that impudent grin? Had she been playful or flirtatious with him?

“That sounds like perhaps
not
,” she said with a flicker of a smile.

“Did he touch you?”

A look of surprise. “You mean Johnny?”

“Unless there were more men you’d like to tell me about,” he said gruffly, the blue of his eyes suddenly cold.

“Stop it, Dominic. Right
now
.”

“Did
anyone
touch you?” he asked, ignoring her, jealous for the first time in his life. Not entirely sure he knew how to deal with it civilly.

“You don’t own me, Dominic,” she quietly replied. “We’ve been through this before. If that’s what you want, I’m leaving.”

“Not tonight you’re not. It’s too dangerous.”

“Jesus, Dominic,” she muttered. “You haven’t changed one single bit. I’m here whether I want to be or not? You’re in charge of every goddamn thing. Orders every fucking second.”

“And you’re still fighting me every inch of the way,” he retorted brusquely. “So tell me, which one of us hasn’t changed?” He shut his eyes for a second, slid down on his spine, then blew out a breath and looked at her from under his long lashes. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this—piss you off, argue, lose my temper. But I’m jealous of every man who looks at you
. Every. Single. One.
I wish I didn’t give a damn. I wish it didn’t matter to me. I wish you weren’t in my thoughts and dreams every minute of the day and night. So don’t tell me to stop feeling the way I do,” he growled. “I
can’t
.”

“And you wish you could.” She grimaced. “I know the feeling.”

“We are truly fucked,” Dominic said with a sigh. “On the other hand, you’re here, I can see you and touch you”—he smiled—“maybe. So things could be worse.” He slid upright again. “At least I don’t feel like drinking every minute. That’s good.”

“And I don’t feel like crying every minute.” Kate smiled back. “That’s a relief. Still,” she said with a little flutter of her fingers, “do you think the sex is worth all the angst?”

“You’re kidding—right? The sex is fantastic. Fuck the angst.” The warmth in his eyes could have illuminated Singapore for a decade. “You make the world livable, Katherine. And at the risk of pissing you off again, I should know. Look,” he said gently, “we’re not going to solve the riddles of the universe tonight or maybe ever. All I know is I’m happy when I’m with you and miserable when I’m not. That’s gotta mean something.”

“I suppose,” Kate murmured. “I’ve never felt so rotten before either.”

“So fuck it. Who cares if we’re clueless about the reasons. How about I make you happy now?”

“And I’ll make you happy back.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He was suddenly tired of talking, but then he had a one-track mind when it came to Katherine. And his flight across the world to get here had only increased the anticipation of touching her, tasting her, possessing her.
“It’s been a long month for both of us,” he said, rising from his chair in a smooth, supple, deceptively easy motion. “It’s about time we had some fun.” Closing the distance between them in three strides, he lifted the table with the silver coffee service aside while her heart drummed in her ears, the hard, steady pulsing between her legs beat a wild, welcoming tattoo, and her frenzied carnal cravings reminded her that it
had
been a very long month.

Shrugging out of his jacket, he dropped it on the white
marble floor and gracefully knelt at her feet. “Let me help you with your buttons, then with another orgasm. After that we can debate our options.” Without waiting for a reply, he gently spread her legs, leaned forward, and unclasped the first pearl button on her blouse.

Issues of submission and independence, of temptation and willingness, were no longer relevant. Dominic was impossible to resist. And at the moment, with lust hammering her brain, with sharp-set desire ravishing her body, she was willing to do anything to feel him inside her. She reached for the zipper on her slacks.

He stopped her hand. “I’ll do that. I’ve played this film in my head a thousand times the last few weeks.” He slid the second button free, then the third, his slender fingers deft and quick. After he opened the fourth button, he unclasped the hook on her waistband, slid the zipper down, freed her blouse tails from her slacks, and slowly opened the plain white linen as if he were unveiling the Venus de Milo, the
Mona Lisa
, and all the wonders of the world.

He softly exhaled as her pale flesh was fully revealed—remembering how her skin felt, the silken warmth, the softness; how she always responded to his touch with eagerness, wild for sensation—for him. The déjà vu triggers were almost overwhelming. He sucked in a shaky breath.

“Are you remembering?” she whispered, as though she could read his mind, as though they were watching the same movie, listening to the same song.

He looked up and nodded. “I’ve replayed every breath, every heartbeat, every good thing that happened to us.”

“Along with every mind-blowing orgasm,” she said with a small smile.

“Oh, yeah, those most of all. So you’re not going anywhere this time.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Fucking A. Hell can do without me for a while. And I’m going to make you feel so good you won’t even think about leaving.”

“What if I have to work?”

“You don’t have to work.”

“What if I
want
to work?”

“Then I’ll see what I can do about working you,” he said with a grin.

“Sex fiend.”

“Uh-uh. I’m just trying to keep up, babe. You’re the one who sets the wicked pace.”

“I hope you’re not looking for an apology.”

“No way. I’m thanking my lucky stars you fell into my life. And now that you have, I’m locking the door behind you.”

“So I’m your captive?”

“Something like that. You’re also the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time and I’m not stupid enough to let you go.”

“What if I want to go?”

He smiled. “Then I wouldn’t be doing my job.” His smile faded. “Look, if and when that happens, we’ll talk about it.”

She sniffed. “You’re impossible. But I want you anyway.”

“Good, because this is new times, better times, baby. We’re not going to screw this one up. So let’s see what we
can do about making each other feel good for the foreseeable future. Okay?” He smiled. “Gimme a yes.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling back.

He grinned. “There you go, baby. You’re playin’ my song.”

He slid the blouse off her shoulders, down her arms, over her hands, then pulled it aside and let it drop from his fingers. “Now what do we have here?” he whispered.

His erection answered first, surging higher.

She took notice. “He likes me,” she murmured.

He held her gaze, his flame-hot. “He’s missed you—and these,” he murmured, sliding a fingertip over the pale swell of her breasts. Her sumptuous tits were more beautiful than he’d remembered, ripe, plump, her nipples already hard and peaked, waiting to be kissed. He gently touched one taut crest then the other, the pad of his finger feather light—a grazing caress, delicate.

Riveting. She sucked in a breath, moaned, spiking pleasure melting downward in a warm, blissful flood.

He was instantly overcome with jealousy at the familiar sound, at her hair-trigger arousal, at her lack of restraint. “No one’s seen these since Hong Kong—right?” His dark brows were angled in a frown. “Humor me, baby. This is a whole new world for me.”