with me or not. He couldn’t care less how I react, how I feel. It’s exactly the kind of thing that I always do, and it always gets me into trouble.
I’ve. Got. To. Stop.
I grit my teeth and open my car door.
“Want me to come in?” Dominic asks, raising an eyebrow. He looks so relaxed behind the wheel, stretched out and casual. Not hot and bothered like me. I don’t affect him in the same way, and that pisses me off.
And crushes me.
“No.” I answer curtly. Leaning into the car, I pause for just a minute. “Thank you for an interesting day.”
I slam the car door and take joy out of his startled expression.
Apparently, no one slams doors into Dominic’s face, because he looks absolutely stunned.
This makes me smile as I unlock my door and head into the house. I toss my purse down and head into kitchen, where I immediately pop the cork on a bottle of red and drink several gulps straight from the bottle.
When my fingers have stopped shaking, I pour myself a glass and head to the bathroom, where I run a bubble bath and soak away my agitation.
The smells of lavender and vanilla assail my senses, soothing away my stress. Or so I hope. But try as I might, I can’t get Dominic’s face out of my head. I can’t forget the way his hands felt, the way his fingers slipped so easily inside of me. The astonished expression on his face when I stalked away from his car.
There’s something to be said for surprising someone and putting them in their place. And Dominic needed to be taken down a few notches. He’s too arrogant by half.
I’m toweling off, still smiling about that, when the doorbell rings. Puzzled, I pull on my robe and pad down the hall to answer it.
Dominic stands in front of me, casual and sexy and bigger than life, a bottle of wine dangling from his hand.
“I don’t take no for an answer very well,” he says with a slow grin. His trademark sexy grin. The one that drops panties. The one that turns my knees weak even though I’m pissed at him, even though I want to tell him that my no means no. That I don’t want him here.
But that isn’t true. I do want him here. And when it comes to him, my no doesn’t mean anything at all.
Chapter Thirteen
Dominic
I’m a hostage of my hormones. Or of my fucking fascination with this girl. And why? She’s just a girl. Blond, big-busted chicks are a dime a dozen in Hollywood. What’s so fucking special about this one?
But as I stare at her… I don’t see a blond, big-busted chick. I don’t see a Hollywood chick. I see a girl, naïve and feisty, who is standing in her doorway in a pink fuzzy robe with an innocent expression, her pink lips slightly parted. Her brown eyes are wide, and there’s something in them that says, I want to trust you. Don’t make me regret it.
And I want to tell her not to fucking trust me, not ever, because I will fucking hurt her. After everything she’s revealed to me about herself, I know that I’m the last thing she needs. She needs someone who is everything I’m not.
But of course I don’t say that. I can’t… because something in me pulls me to her, and I’m too selfish to resist it. So instead, I hold out the bottle of wine.
“Just a glass of wine. That’s it. I promise to keep my hands to myself, unless you ask me not to.”
She looks at me. “Hmm. I don’t think I should.”
I roll my eyes with a sigh. “Trust me. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of,” she answers softly. I’m startled, staring at her, but she opens the door wide and gestures me in.
She leads me to the kitchen where I see an open bottle of wine already on the counter, but she ignores it. Instead, she grabs a corkscrew, and when she turns back around she finds that I have trapped her in the corner. We’re both in the small space, so close I can practically hear her heart beat. I can definitely feel the heat emanating from her body. She takes a breath, and I take a step back, holding up my hands.
“See? I come in peace.”
She grins and grabs the bottle from me, popping the cork and pouring a couple of glasses. I watch the red liquid sloshing against the sides of the crystal glass as I carry mine to the living room. We both drop onto the sofa, and Jacey turns toward me, curling her legs beneath her.
“So. Is this your M.O. with all the girls? You pretend to hate them, then you seduce them into the sack?” She smiles and takes a sip of her wine, but I can see in her eyes that it wasn’t completely a joke. She’s as confused by my behavior as I am.
I laugh it off. “Yeah, it usually works like a charm. How’s it working for you?”
She shakes her head, not gracing that with an answer, instead giving me a direct look and following the look with a very direct question.
“Who was that girl, Dominic? The one at the party. She was the same one in the parking lot. She means something to you and you definitely mean something to her.” She pauses and swallows, then looks back at me. “I like spending time with you—when you’re not biting my head off—but not if you belong to someone else.”
I scoff at that. I can’t help it.
“I don’t belong to anyone,” I answer wryly. “And trust me, few people ‘mean something to me.’ That girl… her name’s Kira, and I grew up with her. She’s been a friend for a really long time.”
“Do you make out with all your friends?” Jacey answers dubiously. She stretches her leg out, and I can’t help but watch as her robe falls slightly open and I can see even more of her thigh.
“No,” I tell her, reluctantly pulling my eyes up to her face. “Not generally.”
I feel a twinge at the thought of Kira. Not because I’m cheating on anyone, because I’m not. But because Kira has called about ten times this week and I haven’t returned her calls. Whenever I’m in town, she puts her life on hold, always making sure that she makes herself available to me.
My thoughts are dangerously close to guilt, which annoys me, so I shove them aside. I don’t deserve to feel guilty. Booty calls with me are a choice Kira makes. I don’t force her, by any means.
“So you’re not dating her?” Jacey confirms slowly, her eyes still doubtful.
“I’m not dating her,” I promise. Because I’m not. Fucking her up the ass, yes. Tying her up and coming on her face? Yes. Whipping her? Teasing her? Sucking on her? Biting her? Yes to all. But dating her? No. And I’m not above using semantics to get around a question.
“Did you mean what you said… few people mean anything to you?” Jacey asks hesitantly, her hand wrapped tightly around her glass. “Because that’s really sad, Dominic.”
I stare at her harshly. “Don’t judge me, Jacey. You have no idea what it’s like to be me. You don’t know what’s happened in my life, you don’t know how people try to use me. Trust me, it’s just easier to not give people the chance.”
She sniffs. “Whatever. I get that you’re on a different plane from the rest of us mortals, but still. People are people. And everyone needs other people. And everyone gets hurt in life and everyone gets used. We have to get it over it and move on. If you let people who have hurt you or used you or pissed you off influence your actions, you’re letting them win, Dominic.”
I stare at her, at the way her jaw is set and her face is determined. “Says a person with experience,” I answer with interest. “What happened to you, Jacey?”
She blushes now, something that only makes me want to know more. With a quick flip of her hand, she downs the rest of her wine, then pours herself another glass. I notice that her hand is shaking and I raise my eyebrow.
“What happened to you?” I ask again, softly this time.
She shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m just a dumbass who always picks the wrong guy. Over and over. It’s a pattern.”
Yet her hand is still shaking as she takes a large gulp of her drink. I shake my head.
“Uh-uh, that’s not bad enough to put that look on your face. Something else
happened.”
I’m not sure that I care so much as I’m curious. But either way, I want to know. Jacey sighs and stares out the window, not looking at me.
“It’s bad enough because it’s a pattern, Dominic. I’ve got some issues. I’ll just tell you that right now. And because of those issues, I usually fall for the wrong guys.”
I’m intrigued as I stare at her. “But that time it was worse somehow. What happened to make it worse?”
Jacey sighs, looking away from me.
“I fell for the devil himself. My friends, my brother… they all tried to help me keep away from him, but eventually, like the dumbass I am, I went back to him because I fell for his line of shit. And one day, he did something terrible. Really, really terrible, and it fucked up everyone around me. Is that bad enough for you?”
I’m not sure what he did, but clearly it wasn’t pretty. Jacey’s face is pale and grave and sad and I don’t push her anymore. Instead, I simply nod.
“That’s bad enough.”
A tear runs down Jacey’s cheek and she wipes it away quickly, burying her face into her wineglass, refusing to look at me.
“And that’s why I made a pact with myself. No more choosing the wrong guy. I’m working on myself and I’m not going to settle for anyone less than the perfect person for me. Someone who values me and won’t push me around. That includes you.”
I reach out and turn her chin toward me, forcing her to look at me.
“I don’t remember offering to be with you,” I remind her gently. “Jacey, I’m not a good person for you. Not in the long run, not for real. What I’m interested in is someone to hang out with while I’m here, someone to have fun with and someone to keep me company. What I’m really interested in is seeing if you’re as decent of a person as you seem… because I’m at the point where I doubt that anyone actually is. That’s it. I’m very, very capable of hurting you… but not if you don’t let me.”
She looks at me with watery eyes. “I’m not decent, Dominic. I can tell you that right now. A decent person wouldn’t have let Jared get anywhere near me or my family, much less dated him. But you can bet your ass that I won’t let you hurt me. I won’t get attached to you. I’ve already promised myself that.”
I nod. “So let’s see if you can keep that promise. You want to see if you can hang out with me and not get attached to the wrong kind of guy yet again, and I want to see if there is one decent person in the world. It’s a win-win situation. I can make you feel good and you can do the same for me. It sounds like we both need it.” I pause, staring at her.
She stares back.
“So it’s a no strings attached, you like me, I like you, win-win situation. I won’t fall for you, Dominic.” Her voice is calm and even.
“I don’t want you to,” I tell her just as evenly. “That’s the whole point. Come on. Take the challenge. Let’s see if you can do this.”
“And let’s show you that there really are decent people in the world,” she answers stubbornly. “Because there are.”
“Whatever.” I shake my head. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You’ll just have to show me.”
“Deal.” She nods. “I will.”
I lean forward a little, staring into Jacey’s dark eyes.
“So… now that that’s settled, do you want me to make you feel good?”
My words are loaded, my meaning quite clear. I emphasize it by gripping her thigh, hard, with my fingers. When I take away my hand, there is a white mark on her leg.
She’s fascinated by that. She looks at the mark, then looks at me.
“Yes,” she murmurs.
“That’s all I need to hear,” I tell her quietly. “It’s my favorite word.”
Her back arches as I pull her into me and she molds into my body. Hers is soft and small, her arms thin bands that close around my back. I flip her around so that she’s back on the couch, her spine pushed into the cushions. With my eyes locked on hers, I part her legs with my knee.
She opens them hesitantly.
“Are you wet for me, Jacey? Could you possibly be wet for me already?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I trail one finger down her chest, opening her robe with it.
She’s displayed now, in the sunlight, her tits pointing to the ceiling, her hips bucked upward. I trail my finger downward and around her nipple and she moans. But I don’t stop there. I continue down, over her hip, across her flat belly, and down to her pussy.
I trail that one finger over the tiny nub of her clit.
She twitches into me, but I still just keep that one finger there, rubbing that little swollen bump.
“You are wet,” I point out. “For me. What would you like to do about that?”
“Surprise me,” she breathes.
I chuckle lightly, slipping that one finger into the folds of her pussy, into her body where I move it… in, out, slow. She throws her head back and I add a finger.
“Wrong answer,” I tell her softly, leaning over to kiss and suck her neck. I’m being gentle with her now, easy. The hard stuff will come later. “You’ve got to tell me what you want.”
Her eyes glaze over as I rub her, as I stroke her, as she grows even wetter. She swallows hard, I can hear it.
“Fuck me,” she says simply. “Make me feel good.”
I chuckle again, even though my groin tightens at her words.
“You have to wait for that, Princess.”
She opens her eyes. “Why?”
She pauses her movement, her hips suspended against me.
“Because that’s the way I work. I don’t jump into the sack with just anyone.”
I don’t jump into the sack with anyone. At all. But of course I don’t say that. She’ll soon learn that ‘fucking’ me has a very different definition than what she probably assumes.
“But I’ll still make you feel good,” I add.
I get to my feet and pick her up, scooping her easily into my arms. She wraps her arms around my neck, but we don’t go far. I carry her into her bedroom and drop her onto the bed, where she bounces, then rolls over.
“How do you want me?” she purrs. “Spread-eagled?”
I smile, remembering when I’d told her that earlier, a couple weeks ago. “Yes. On your back. Do you have any scarves?
She looks puzzled but gestures to her top dresser drawer, where I find a heap of silk scarves. She looks hesitant when I climb over her on the bed and straddle her, lifting her arms above her head.
“Do you trust me?”
She looks unsure. “I barely know you.”
I stare into her eyes. “But do you think I’d physically harm you?”
She doesn’t hesitate, she just shakes her head.
“Good. Because I would never. Not unless you ask me to. If you ever say the word no, it’s all over. I’ll immediately stop what I’m doing. Got it?”
She nods.
“I’m going to tie your hands and feet to your bedframe. And you’re going to like it. Yes or no?
She stares at me in confusion. “How do I know if I’ll like it?”
I stare back and repeat myself slowly. “I’m going to tie you. And you’re going to like it. Yes or no?”
I ask it with more emphasis this time, more force.
“Yes,” she finally whispers. And I can see on her face that she believes it. I smile as I peel off her robe, then bind her hands, then her feet.
She’s totally immobile now, spread out on the bed like a gorgeous offering. Her full tits point toward the ceiling, amazingly perky for being natural. Coming from Hollywood, it’s rare for me to find real tits nowadays.
I crawl up over her, her curves rubbing against my dick, hardening it. I nip at her neck, and whisper into her ear. “I’m going to blindfold you. And you’re going to like it. Yes or no?”
Her lips almost tremble as she replies, “Yes.”
I smile again, then bend and tie a black scarf around her head, covering her eyes.
“You trust me not to hurt
you, because I would never physically harm you. Not unless you ask for it. Yes or no?”
I’m trailing my fingers along her torso now, over her ribs, along her sides. I watch the goose bumps form as she whispers softly.
“Yes.”
I smile, then kiss her hard. I feel my teeth against her lips, her tongue automatically plunging into my mouth. Her lips open for me, sucking me down. She wants more. She shows it with every movement.
I bend my head, trailing my lips along the silkiness of her skin, sliding it along her nipple before I pull that pink tip into my mouth, sucking it soft, then harder. She pushes up toward me as far as her restraints will allow.