Chapter 9 - Dom
Dom
Catherine Fischer, Harry’s sister and one of my closest friends, moaned as her head fell back on her pristine rose-red sofa, her pink lips dropping in pleasure.
We’d been close for so long—too close—and I needed this as much as she did.
“Do you want it harder? Or deeper?” I murmured as I pushed my fingers into her and watched her squirm, loving that I could help her like this.
She was so soft and malleable. I found her sweet spot, and she shuddered again, her chestnut hair swelling around her breasts as her back arched, her fingers digging into the armrest.
“Both, please, fuck. Dom, don’t stop,” she whined. She’d always been gorgeous, but like this, letting go under my fingers, she shined.
“Is that good, Kitty Cat?”
Her knees spread, her black dress riding her thighs, opening herself to me, letting me drive my fingers in again and again. I brushed up and down, my thumb finding its way to that tight ball of muscle that always got her going.
“Yes, I just—I need...” she gasped.
“I know,” I purred, watching her writhe beneath me. I leaned over her, getting a better angle. “You’re almost there.”
She cried out, her hips rolling as she pushed herself closer to me.
“Oh, my God!” She trembled. “My husband would kill you if he caught you doing this!”
There was a loud cough, slashing through our reverie, and we looked up to find Max glaring at us from the kitchen door.
“Your husband’s standing right here,” he growled, running his eyes over the scene before him. “Making the pancakes you asked for.”
I eased my grip from Cat’s left foot, giving her one final stroke as she moved, groaning, her very pregnant belly stopping her from sitting up.
We both grinned up at him from the sofa as he scowled. I loved winding him up like this. It was payback for stealing my friend.
“And I must say,” I laughed, “you’re looking fabulous doing it.
” I nodded towards his pink, frilly apron covering his band shirt and ripped jeans, his hands filled with a bright yellow mixing bowl.
His usual bad boy look was dampened when he had his long black hair tied back and none of the trademark kohl around his eyes.
Free from his usual grungy appearance, he actually looked handsome, but I would never admit it.
He was a famous rock star, loved by millions around the world, including Cat.
And he didn’t need me pumping his ego. He had enough of that at home.
I was glad I got to see him like this. Though I still hadn’t quite forgiven him for breaking Cat’s heart when they were younger, he adored her and treated her like a queen, and that was good enough—for now.
“I just got Keiran to sleep as well.” He frowned. “If you wake him up, you’re dealing with it.” He held up the bowl pointedly.
Their first son was nearly two years old, and as the youngest of the Fischer family, he was spoilt rotten.
“What a pity. I was having so much fun.” She tilted her head, getting a proper look at him. She hummed as she slowly ran her eyes over her husband. “Darling, I need to speak to Dom alone. Why don’t you finish those pancakes, and I’ll be through in a minute?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. “And if you’re good, I’ll give you a special treat later on.”
Heat flashed in Max’s eyes as he grinned. Their gazes locked, their hungry stares filling with love as Max gave her a passionate smirk. He turned, retreating to the kitchen, the door gently shutting behind him.
“Uh,” I scowled, “please don’t say stuff like that in front of me. I know far too much about your sex life to pretend I don’t know what that means.”
She shot me a wink, beaming. Even though Max had put her through hell when they first broke up twelve years ago, I’d never seen her so happy.
She was glowing. Pregnancy suited her, and she walked around as if she were floating on a cloud, smiling all the time.
Still fierce and feisty, but it was always layered with a new kindness that chased away the darkness that ruled her when we first met.
“I can’t help it.” She threw her arm across her forehead like an eighteenth-century damsel. “He just does things to me…”
“Cat.” I glared.
“Ha! Okay, fine.” She gave one last lingering look towards the kitchen door before swinging her attention back to me. “Anyway, why are you here? You never visit me out of the blue, especially on a Friday night.”
I was usually in a bar or club, perusing the customers who might be down to fuck, even for just a few hours. If I was feeling generous, I’d even let them stay for the weekend. But there was something more urgent going on.
“Harry’s getting married,” I said, shaking my head. I wouldn’t accept it, even though we only spoke about it yesterday.
“Aaah, he finally told you then.”
My eyes snapped to hers. “What do you mean, finally?”
“Well.” She shrugged, scratching her cheek. “He was putting it off for a bit…”
“A bit? Why a bit?”
“You know why.” She gave me a look, but just because I was getting annoyed didn’t mean I had an answer.
Cat rolled her eyes. “Because he knows how you get about things like this. It’s why he waited a week to tell you he and Molly were buying a house together, and you still got weird about that.”
“I don’t. I’m not being weird about it,” I said, sounding so defensive that I made her point for her.
I was surprised they were moving so fast. Harry and Molly had only been together for three years, so they obviously needed more time before marriage.
“I just wanted to ask what you thought,” I said.
Which was a total lie. Okay, maybe I hit on him when he told me because I was annoyed, but the way he presented it made no sense.
Marriage wasn’t a fucking ‘why not’. Sure, I had no plans of getting married, and the only married couple I knew that were actually happy were Cat and Max, but I knew enough about it that I was sure it was more than a fucking business decision.
I couldn’t get it out of my head. It didn’t fit; it was just wrong. Molly had been a friend since she joined our pub nights, but I had watched both of them over the years. Harry and I had had enough late nights talking about their arguments to know marriage shouldn’t be the next ‘step’ for them.
It was like I was stuck in hot sludge whenever I thought about standing next to him as he and Molly exchanged rings and pledged themselves to each other for life. Or, as long as forever lasted nowadays. I’d handled enough divorce cases to know it wasn’t exactly a lifetime.
“Does it matter what I think? As long as he’s happy, that’s enough for me.”
“I just want to know why he chose now to get married, is all,” I followed up.
There was no spark of desire between him and Molly that lit up the room whenever they were together, yet he was still happy enough to propose to her? I was calling bullshit.
I never saw them giving each other hungry looks, like the fiery energy that always passed between Cat and Max.
“And did you ask him?” Cat asked, notching her elbow on the back of the sofa and resting her head in her palm.
“Yeah, of course I did. He said it was a ‘natural step’.” I lifted my hands, making air quotes as I pursed my lips. The way he phrased it was still annoying me, like it was a simple thing, not tying your life to someone for-fucking-ever.
“Right, and you’re pissy about it because…?”
“Why do you think I’m pissy?” I paused my hand on her foot as a slight punishment for poking me in the way she was so good at.
“You mean besides the scowl on your face?”
I gave her a twisted smile as I tried to hide it, but it didn't work. And she had a point. I hadn’t even noticed the tightness in my arms and legs until she highlighted it. I’d been frustrated since he told me.
“Dom, why are you bothered about it when you’re off fucking some random guy every other night?”
“It’s not the same. I didn’t want you marrying Max, and I don’t want Harry marrying Molly.”
“I can still hear you, you know!” Max called through from the kitchen, only deepening my scowl, especially when Cat burst into a grin, her eyes shining as she returned her attention to me. Her hand softly circled her belly, and I got back to my work on her feet.
“You really don’t think there could be another reason you’re so upset?”
“I told you,” I growled. “I just don’t want him to be taken away from me—just like you were.”
She gave a deep sigh and propped her other foot on my lap, encouraging me to swap. I complied, taking out my frustration on her taut muscles.
“Jesus, okay.” She rolled her eyes as she tutted, “Look, maybe have a search in that big brain of yours and think about why you get in such a fucking mood every time Harry and Molly take a ‘natural step’. Or, even better, why you’re always making sure he’s ‘taken care of’, as you say, even though he’s got loads of other people in his life to do that for him.
” She smirked at me. “He literally pays people to look after him, and you still butt your giant head in, convinced you know how to do it better.” She raised her eyebrows at me and stared me down.
“I did exactly the same thing for you. I’d do it for any of you.” My thumb ground into one of the knots on her heel too hard to get back at her, but she just moaned. “The same for my sisters. Hell, even Sally if she ever actually needed it.”
I refused to call her ‘Mum’ any more. Sally had put me through so much that she didn't deserve the title. It had only gotten worse since I left uni.
Cat only knew the brief outline of all the crap Sally had put me through, but despite everything, I still loved her in my own fucked-up way.
“And he works too much,” I finished.
She ran her hand over her belly. “And I don’t?”
Cat was the new head of the law department of The Fischer Foundation and kept up her cases until right before Keiran was due.
She even went to work weeks after he was born.
I came around whenever I could to cook her food, clean up, and mind Keiran so she could sleep.
She had Max, but he spent half the year touring with his band.
But Harry… Harry would do twelve straight hours at The Foundation, seven days a week, and still go out to all the parties and events Mallory and her other socialite friends hosted, as well as movie premieres, award ceremonies, and anything else that required his presence.
Molly worked almost the same amount of hours, and it was easier for them if I left them food, just to make sure he was okay and see that he wasn’t getting too stressed or overwhelmed. Normal friend stuff.
I sighed deeply, my thumb sweeping the arch of her foot. “Fine, maybe I’m being slightly weird.”
“I highly doubt things will change just because they have rings on their fingers.”
“But is he going to be happy?” I asked.
“Harry’s happiness isn’t your responsibility.”
I glared at her, but she didn’t back down. She was completely right, but it didn’t explain why I felt like it was.
“He won’t be happy with her,” I said.
“How the fuck do you know that? It’s his relationship.”
I felt like I was backing myself into a corner. Whatever I’d say, she had an answer for. This shouldn’t be a struggle. I shouldn’t be fishing around for solutions to questions I thought I knew the answers to.
They weren’t even answers.
They were excuses.
“Look,” she sighed, “instead of making it a problem, why don’t you just be happy for him?”
I clenched my teeth as I rubbed her toes, pulling another moan from her.
“You’re so good at this,” she groaned.
“Years of practice, Kitty Cat,” I purred as she fixed me with her wicked gaze.
“Just think about what I said, okay?”
I ran my tongue over my teeth. I loved her endlessly, but she could be a pain in the ass. All the Fischers were. “I will.”
“Good, now, come on,” she said, dropping her feet from my lap. “You do not want to miss out on Max’s pancakes—one of the many things he’s good at stirring up with his fingers,” she said, shooting me a wink, cackling as I glowered at her again.