The Foster Girls #2: Finland

Chapter 9: Finland

I blame what came out of my mouth on the whole night leading up to it.

In the month since we'd had that disastrous dinner with Camille, Dominic had been as good as his word and had put clearly-defined boundaries in place with her. He'd also not only talked with her about getting some help but had made her follow through on it. Happily, it had been quiet on the Camille front since then and I didn't mind that one bit. I also may have ensured Dominic was with me every single night so she couldn't get at him much, if at all. The MC business kept him busy during the day, and I claimed his nights. He even told me that Camille had gotten a boyfriend, so I took that as a really positive step. I may or may not have felt sorry for said boyfriend, but hey! It was his choice to get involved with The Most Evil, Horrible, Despicable, Nasty Bitch Queen From The Very Lowest Depths of Hell.

Another side effect of that showdown was Dominic opening up to me more. He liked to sit on my couch, with me straddling his lap, talking to me while he played with my curls or rubbed lazy circles on my thighs as he told me about his family, his years in the military, what he did for the MC (computer/technical/IT stuff that I couldn't understand but Elizabeth would have), things he loved and hated. 

He asked me questions, as he'd always done, and I remembered all the times my sisters and I had described what we thought love looked like. I had my answer now: it looked like Dominic's chocolate eyes looking into mine as I sat on his lap while he talked with me, as he pressed kisses to my lips and treated me as if I was someone so precious he would always hold me close to his heart and protect me.

As a romance writer, I'd described love in my books before, but that was pulled not from experience but from my imagination, and I was finding the reality of it was even deeper and richer than anything I'd ever written. My two newest books were benefitting from me being in love, and Willow, as my editor, even made a comment about how my books felt more real to her.

Tonight, Dominic and I had opted out of spending the evening at the clubhouse and having a quiet night in at my place instead. I'd made him dinner, which we were just finishing.

"Thank you for dinner, Finland. So damn good," he said to me, as if his taking seconds and thirds wasn't clue enough that he loved my cooking. He wiped his mouth with his napkin, tossed it on his plate and fiddled with his phone for a second. Then he pushed up from the table and held his hand out to me, waiting patiently for me to take it. With an unsure smile, I took his hand and then he pulled me close to his chest as the lead singer of The Pretenders crooned their most haunting song, "I'll Stand by You." With his one hand at the small of my back, the other one holding my hand twisted slightly so our hands rested against his heart.

And my biker slow danced with me in my kitchen. He twirled me under his arm and led me around the kitchen, but most of the time he held me close to his chest as he turned and spun us around together. His thumb made gentle circular motions at the base of my spine.

Being held like that made me feel that I was adored by him, someone he cherished. Snuggling closer to his chest, I memorized this perfect moment so I could take it out at later times and relive it.

As the song ended, his hands moved into my hair and he looked me in the eyes as his mouth slowly descended, taking my lips in a soft kiss that spoke straight to my soul.

Dominic was rarely this soft with me. He was a hard, aggressive man and although he never, ever even came close to hurting me, he was wild in bed, raw and savage and demanding. He wasn't gentle like this, not so tender it brought tears to my eyes that I desperately blinked back so he wouldn't think I was batshit crazy. Crying over a kiss? When had I become that girl? Apparently when this rough man held me in his arms and danced with me in my kitchen. It was an entirely new side of him and I liked it just as well as his primitive side.

He continued the slow assault on my mouth, leaving one hand in my hair while the other trailed gently down my neck. For the first time in my life, I felt loved by someone other than my sisters.

Eventually, his lips left mine and trailed to my ear, sparking shivers down my spine.

"I'll stand by you, Finland," he whispered into my ear. 

Later that night, he pulled me close to him in bed where he'd just finished making love to me, so gently and tenderly that I'd found myself fighting tears again. With his strong arms wrapped tightly around me, he buried his face in my hair and inhaled deeply, as if he were trying to take my very essence into his own body.

This was nothing new, but it never failed to touch me deeply, every single time.

So, sated, relaxed and feeling very adored, I pressed my lips to his pec and said, "I love you, Dominic."

Then he went frozen and locked up tight.

Which meant I went frozen and locked up tight, my mind shrieking DEFCON 1 warnings at me, red lights flashing. My default kicked in and all I could think was Run! Run! Run!

I wanted to kick myself. Why did you have to ruin a perfectly beautiful night? Why didn't you keep your mouth shut?

 Pushing against Dominic, I tried to escape his hold, but he locked me down, pushing me to my back, his leg thrown over both of mine, his upper body just above mine, his forearms on either side of my head, holding most of his weight off me.

"Let me go," I snapped at him, still trying to escape.

"Not happening," he soothed. "Just settle yourself."

"I just – I need to go," I cried in frustration as I twisted and squirmed to get away.

Run! Run!

"Stop trying to run from me, Finland. You're not going anywhere. Settle." His lips found my ear and he whispered soft, nonsense words to me, intending to calm me, soothe me. 

But none of those words were I love you, too.

When I eventually stopped straining to get away from him, he reared back a bit and I could feel him looking at me. "Don't ever regret telling me that, Finland." 

And I realized for the first time that aside from my nickname of gorgeous, Dominic never called me by any endearments -- but the very way he said my full name made it into one. The careful way he said Finland made it special on his lips.

"Look at me." His hands moved to my face and he waited for me to look into his eyes, but I wouldn't. 

"I'll wait here all night, Gorgeous." I made him wait for a few more minutes until I finally gave in. "Good girl. That's the most beautiful gift I've ever been given, Finland, and I'll guard your words in my heart and never let you take them back or regret giving them to me. You're everything to me, and I need you to understand that. You mean more to me than I can tell you."

Those chocolate eyes of his were working, trying to convey something to me that he wanted me to understand, were desperate for me to understand. 

I couldn't interpret his look, though, and his words confused me. What on earth did they mean exactly? It definitely wasn't a declaration of love. That much was clear. Everything in me still shouted Run! but I knew he'd keep me beside him until he was assured I wouldn't bolt. His lips and hands continued to soothe me for the better part of an hour, until I settled completely and fell asleep, helpless against his care and comfort.

But not his love.