The Sacrificial Lamb (37 page)

Not wanting to tempt fate, Alex got up off the cot. As she was bent over, something sitting on the last shelf built into the wall caught her eye. It was partially hidden behind some cans of food. Moving the cans aside, she saw a small radio and yanked it out.

It was one of those older models, just a basic black box, with a cassette player and an AM/FM dial. Alex guessed the purpose was to get news broadcasts, or maybe just to listen to some music so you didn’t go crazy in this place. Maybe it wouldn’t even work, but she decided to bring it upstairs to try. Wrapping the cord around the radio, she took it with her as she left the room, closing up behind her. Climbing the ladder with one hand was tricky, the radio was kept curled close to her chest, but Alex made it out of the hatch with no incident.

Placing the radio on the floor, she hauled herself up out of the basement and closed the trapdoor carefully. As soon as Alex plugged in the radio, there was a static burst followed by deafening white noise. She jumped and then spun the volume dial down. Once it was at a more manageable decibel level, Alex started to turn the dial, not picking up much of anything. It took her a minute to figure out the antenna was still retracted, so she grabbed it and pulled it all the way up, fiddling with it to get better reception.

Finally a station came in loud and clear. Alex listened to Michael Jackson belt out “Beat It” and smiled to herself. It had been ages since she’d heard this song. She bopped her head and tapped her feet to the tune. Music. She hadn’t heard music since before the abduction and realized how much she’d missed it. Something so simple could always make her feel much better. Michael Jackson gave way to “Sweet Soul Music” by Arthur Conley. She recognized it because it was one of her father’s favorites. This must be an oldies station.

Alex listened until they announced the call letters, 104.3 WOMC,
Detroit’s greatest hits!
She unplugged the radio and brought it into the washroom with her where she’d be doing the laundry. She might not know the names of all the songs, or who sang them, but she was surprised at how many she recognized and was able to hum along with.

After a quick clean of the tub, Alex filled it with lukewarm water while she fetched the laundry detergent and their clothes. She went into Domenic’s room and picked up the bag of clothes that was on the floor. There was some loud clanging in the bag and she looked inside. There were several types of guns in there and magazines full of ammo. It looked like Domenic was ready for a war. Alex sat down, breathless, as everything hit home.

Sighing, she rubbed her hands across her face and wondered how the hell she had found herself in this situation. Alex wanted to curse Santino DiRocco for putting them in such danger. What had he been thinking, dragging her father into all of this?

Then she looked up at the tumbled sheets on the bed and knew that had none of this happened, she would never have met Domenic. What a strange predicament. Would she have chosen to spend her time living a nondescript and safe life, or to be at risk and experience the most intense time of her life? Both had their pros and cons, but she was leaning toward the latter.

Alex grabbed Domenic’s clothes, added them to her own, and carried everything to the bathroom. She dumped the clothes on floor unceremoniously and opened the small box of laundry detergent. Pouring a generous amount in the tub, she ran her hand in the water, swishing it around. She nodded to herself as the soap melted away and bubbles rose to the surface of the water.

After drying her hands on one of the shirts on the floor, she plugged in the radio. The reception was pretty good and the music came in tinny but clear. A song she didn’t recognize was playing. Alex removed the gun from her shorts and placed it on the bathroom counter, well away from the sink. The last thing she needed was to get the gun wet. Domenic would kill her if she did. A snort escaped her.

She was fucking a man in the mob.

And not just that, she was falling in love with him. Alex wondered what her father would think of all this. Shying away from that thought, she started dumping clothes in at random. Except for her track suit and two pairs of her panties, which she had taken with her from the warehouse, all of the clothes were Domenic’s.

Alex wasn’t quite sure what to do with the clothes after dumping them in the water. At home they would have been loaded into a washing machine and with a push of a button come out clean. She sloshed them around the tub with her hands, hoping the soap would take care of the rest. After a while, that didn’t seem satisfactory. She tried to channel her inner fifties housewife, but that didn’t work either. Then she had a light bulb moment. She checked the bottom of her feet, finding them clean, and stepped into the tub.

“Stuck in the Middle with You” by Stealers Wheel came on then, and she started dancing around the tub. The sodden, soapy clothes squelched under her feet, so she held onto the wall to keep her balance.

“Cops to the left of me!” she belted out, improvising the lyrics “Mobsters to the right! Here I am, stuck in a cabin with you!” Self-imposed hysteria threatened to bubble to the surface.

“Ahem.”

Whirling around, Alex found Domenic standing in the door, his shoulders shaking with mirth.

“What, may I ask, are you doing?”

“Laundry?” she replied, her face flaming with what must have been the brightest crimson. She kept stomping around the tub, suds sloshing around her calves.

“Where did you find the radio?” he asked, inclining his head at the device in question.

“Downstairs in the panic room.”

“You went back down there?” Domenic’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and she smiled at him widely.

“Yeah,” Alex said, leaving it at that.

“All right.” Domenic came toward her.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he stepped in the tub.

“Helping you do laundry.”

“Mony Mony” by Billy Idol came on, and they started jumping around and singing like crazy people. Water splashed up around their knees, and their laughter bounced off the walls. It was all very surreal. If someone had told Alex two weeks ago that she’d be frolicking in a bathtub with Mr. Armani, she never would have believed it. At this moment, he was light years away from the man she’d met that fateful day in the warehouse. That man looked like he hadn’t smiled or laughed in years. She wondered if perhaps that was the actual truth.

Billy Idol gave way to “Sweet Home Alabama.” Alex got a little exuberant with her stomping and managed to splash the front of Domenic’s shorts. “Oops,” she said, covering her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

“Oops, huh?” Domenic replied, an evil glint in his eyes. He bent over and flicked a handful of water at her.

“Hey!” She kicked up another plume of water.

“Oh, you want to play that way, do you?” Domenic grabbed her and sat her in the water.

“No!” she screeched out with laughter, right before the water soaked through her clothes.

Grabbing Domenic’s shoulders, she pulled him down with her. The soapy water made everything slippery, and he lost his balance, landing on her. Both of them were drenched within seconds. Rolling to the side, Domenic pulled her on top of him instead. He brought his face to hers for a kiss.

“You taste like soap,” she said, still laughing.

“Do you care?”

“No.”

Alex kissed Domenic again as Rod Stewart’s “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy” played in the background. She sat up and stripped off her shirt, tossing it behind her.

“Oh well, it had to be washed anyway.”

She started listening to the lyrics of the song playing and looked at Domenic, about to start laughing again. Understanding her look, he started to croon the words of the song.

“So?” he asked with a wicked grin. “Do ya think I’m sexy?”

Sitting up against the back of the tub, hair tousled and dripping, wet shirt clinging to the planes of his chest, he was definitely sexy, and she absolutely wanted his body. Alex grabbed the front of Domenic’s shirt and pulled it until he was sitting upright. She took the hem and tugged on it. He lifted his arms and let her strip it off him. Her mouth was on his as soon as his face was free of the fabric.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, breaking away and chuckling.

“Take it however you like, Mr. D’Angelo,” she replied saucily.

“How about I take it anywhere besides in a vat of dirty laundry.”

Alex started to laugh as he looked around them, his nose wrinkling in distaste.

“Fine,” she said, sighing dramatically. “Come on then, help me finish here first.” Alex stood up, and shimmied out of her shorts, dropping them into the water.

“That’s not helping,” Domenic complained, ogling her now-wet under garments. She shrugged and held out her hand.

“Too late now. Let’s get started. That way we can finish faster.” She waggled her eyebrows, and Domenic smirked at her, taking her outstretched hand.

Once out of the tub, they dried off and finished the laundry. Grabbing the clothes, she went to her old room and laid them out on the bed to dry. He stayed in the bathroom to run a shower so they could wash the sticky soap off their bodies.

Domenic had started without her, and Alex slipped into the shower behind him. He heard her come in and turned toward her. Taking the soap from him, she rolled it between her hands to build up some lather. Placing her hands on his chest, she began washing his body. The water ran down his torso, taking the suds with it. She stepped closer as she smoothed her hands over his skin. He was already responding to her, and she ran the bar of soap along his hardening shaft. Domenic shuddered under her touch.

Once she was done with the front, she turned him around to rinse off and started cleaning his back. Alex soaped up his shoulders and arms first. When she was done, she slid her hands over the wide, muscular expanse of his back, enjoying the feel of him. She kept moving downward, first over his hips and then over his backside. His body was incredible, and with all the attention she was giving it, possibly cleaner than it had ever been in his life.

Alex got on her knees, continuing down his legs with the soap. Once she’d lathered them, she ran her hands up his inner legs as the water from the showerhead rinsed them off. Putting her hands on Domenic’s hips, she turned him until he was facing her. She looked up at him before reaching out a hand and stroking his erection. Domenic closed his eyes for a minute. His chest rumbled deeply.

Opening her mouth, she slipped her tongue over the head of his cock. Domenic moaned, and he opened his eyes, looking down at her. Alex slid him in further and moved her tongue along the ridge of his glans. Domenic kept his hands fisted at his sides—they shook slightly as she continued her exploration. She took him as deep as she could go, wrapping her hand around his base so that he was fully sheathed.

“Shit,” Domenic mumbled, still watching her as she pulled back. Her hand moved along his length, together with her mouth. Her tongue continued to tease the underside of his shaft, stroking him intimately. Domenic had reached up and grasped the shower rod. His other hand was braced against the shower wall. His groans increased, and she moved quicker, tightening the hold on the base of his cock.

“Alex…I’m going to…
fuck!”

Domenic reached out, as if he was going to pull away, but she squeezed his hip to let him know she wanted this. He kept his hand at his side for a moment and then reached out, weaving his fingers in her hair. Alex increased her speed a little more, and he started inhaling and exhaling in quick succession.

“Ah, God!” He started to climax.

When Domenic was finished, he lowered himself to his knees in front of her, clutching her against his chest and kissing her hard. He buried his hands in her hair, and his tongue explored her mouth. The water, pounding down on them both, started to get lukewarm. Regretfully Alex pulled away from Domenic’s fervent kisses. She still hadn’t had a chance to wash up and was slick from the laundry detergent, so she reached down and picked up the fallen bar of soap.

“Let me do that,” Domenic offered, reaching for the soap.

She batted his hand away, laughing. “If I give you this soap, we’ll never make it out of here!”

“But…what about you?” he asked incredulously.

Alex stood up and started to lather her body. “What about me?”

“You know!”

“I’m fine. I owed you for this morning…and last night,” she said, smiling to herself. She had lost count how many times Domenic had brought her to orgasm with that talented tongue of his. He knelt on the floor, looking somewhat smug, and Alex reached out and gave his head a playful shove.

“Are you sure?” Domenic said, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her stomach. He would have convinced her, if the hot water hadn’t decided right then to run out. The cold water hit them simultaneously, and they scrambled out of the shower.

It was well past lunchtime by the time they made it out of the bedroom. Alex brushed her hair as Domenic got sandwiches ready for them. She made a loose braid, securing it with a rubber band, and then sat across from Domenic to eat. They continued to sneak peeks at each other, grinning and being silly. So far it had been a very good day.

“So I take it you didn’t find anything in the woods?”