She wanted to laugh with joy; she wanted to sob. She didn't know what to say, what to do; being with Dominic had stripped her of her last defenses.
A loud banging on the roof of the car made her jump with alarm.
Her limbs were heavy from their explosive love-making, and she awkwardly scrambled off his lap, practically falling headfirst into the passenger seat, her butt sticking up in the air, and dug for her clothes on the floor.
"Don't worry," Dominic said as he calmly handed her her bra, then her skirt and top. He rubbed away a streak of lipstick on her cheek. "Everything's going to be fine. Let me handle this."
Dominic turned his key in the ignition and rolled down the fogged-up window. A very stern policeman stared in at them.
"Good evening, Officer," Dominic said in an even tone.
"It's awfully late, folks," the officer said, clearly ready to read them the riot act. Then he realized who his offender was, and his expression instantly changed to one of hero worship.
"Dominic DiMarco?"
Dominic smiled. "We were just heading home," he said. "Sorry to have disrupted your evening."
The policeman waved his hand in the air. "No problem. Just remember, in the future this isn't the best place to score."
Dominic nodded, already raising the window back up. "Thanks. Have a great night."
"Oh, God," Melissa said as he drove away. "That was too close for comfort. If it got out that I was sleeping with a client, I'd be a laughingstock."
He didn't say anything, and the silence grew awkward. Had she hurt his feelings? No, that was impossible. She was as much his secret as he was hers.
Wanting things to go back to the way they'd been before, she teased, "You were pretty smooth there. How many times have you been caught in a car with your pants down?"
A muscled jumped in Dominic's jaw. "My past mistakes have nothing to do with us. I was just a stupid kid."
Mistakes? What mistakes? She stroked his arm, joking, "Okay, then, how about I tell you about all the sex I've had with guys in cars?"
Dominic hit the brakes hard at the Stop sign. Then gripping the stick shift so hard that his knuckles turned white, he shot forward on the dark, empty road. "I want to rip them all limb from limb," he growled. "Use their faces as punching bags."
It was all she could do not to giggle with glee. "That's not very nice."
"Where you're concerned, I have trouble being nice." He pulled into his parking garage. "I've never wanted anyone as badly as I want you."
"Would it make you feel better if I told you you're my first in a car?"
"I hate thinking of you with other men at all. It drives me crazy."
She tried to keep her feelings in, but couldn't. "You're the only one who matters."
Chapter Sixteen
Spend the night with me, Melissa." Melissa let him thread his fingers through hers. "You make it hard for a girl to say no," she whispered.
He smiled at her, a seductive flash of white teeth and stubble dusted across a strong jaw. "I'll keep that in mind." He came around to her side of the car and helped her out just as her stomach grumbled.
"I'm starved, too," he said. "Have you ever eaten spaghetti alla carbonara?"
She shook her head. "My people walked off the Mayflower. I grew up on Wonder Bread and processed-cheese slices. Kraft macaroni and cheese, if my mother really wanted to spice things up."
He grinned. "Looks like it's up to me to educate your palate."
They took the elevator up to his condo and she followed him into his kitchen. Most men she'd been with didn't know the first thing about cooking. They always expected her to whip up something amazing with fifteen minutes' notice. Unfortunately, cooking wasn't part of her skill set. She even burned microwave popcorn. If Dominic could actually cook, it would be one more plus to add to his already long list.
He uncorked a bottle of red wine. "You prefer merlot, don't you?"
She nodded, warmed by the fact that he'd noticed. She sat on a leather bar stool and he slid a glass to her across the black granite island. "White wine makes my toes itch," she admitted.
He raised an eyebrow. "Also good to know." Butterflies hatched in her belly as she wondered what exactly he was going to do with that knowledge. She wiggled her toes as he pulled out eggs and bacon from the stainless-steel fridge and spaghetti from the pantry. Then he grabbed a pot from the gleaming copper rack above the gas range.
"Where did you learn to cook?" she asked. "My mother could make anything. She was passionate about food." He reached into the fridge, turning his face away from her. "If cooking shows had been invented thirty years ago, she would have been a star."
Melissa digested this information, wondered about what he wasn't saying. "Was she a full-time mom?"
He put on water to boil. "My dad died when I was three. She supported us by bagging groceries at the mom-and-pop store around the corner."
Melissa suddenly remembered a story she'd read about Dominic. After signing his first major-league contract, he'd bought his mother a house. "Were you the youngest?" "Nope, the oldest. My sister is one year younger, my brother just behind her."
"My God," she said. "Three kids under three. How did your mother do it?"
He looked uncomfortable. "It was rough at times. She did the best she could."
Clearly, Dominic didn't want her to probe any deeper. It hurt her feelings that he wouldn't share with her, but at the same time she understood. She wasn't exactly offering up tidbits about her relationship with her father. Besides, she knew Dominic. He was a natural protector. Were it not for his size, he would have been a natural defensive player.
As a child, he must have tried to assume the role of man of the house. What a big burden that must have been for such a little boy.
It wasn't unusual for pro athletes to have a chip on their shoulders. So many of them had overcome bad childhoods, rough neighborhoods, little money. But Dominic had never once tried to use his upbringing as an excuse for bad behavior. He was a better man than that. It was one more reason to love him— one more reason she didn't need.
Dominic looked like a wild gypsy with his dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin. She wanted desperately to be the mate he would sacrifice everything for. But the truth was that there would come a day when she would see another woman giving him a celebration kiss after a game; maybe even pregnant with his child.