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Please, God, say I am. I don’t want to have to waste a second of our time together hunting down every man she’s been with and making him forget what it was like to have her.
“Yes.” She answers softly, some of the stiffness leaving her shoulders.
I rub small circles on her skin with my thumb, and she lets out a sigh. “And we both remember what happened on Tuesday, so please stop trying to rush this. I know a lot of ways to bring you pleasure that don’t include pushing you to the end of your limits and fucking this all up.”
“Fine.” She releases my hand and crosses her arms. “If you want to spend the next few weeks doing everything but the one thing we both want to do, that’s what we’ll do. But if I break my vibrator or die from sexual frustration because you refuse to give me some dick, that’s on you.”
I try to hold the laugh in, I swear I do, but something about the petulant little scowl marring her beautiful features and the seriousness of her tone when she mentions her vibrator, rips a loud laugh from my throat.
Sloane rolls her eyes at me and tries to hide the smile threatening to curve her lips by taking a bite of the salad she’s been playing over since this conversation started. By the time I’m done laughing, she’s moved on to her sliders and her eyes are rolling into the back of her head as she chews. I don’t even try to hide that I’m watching her enjoy her meal.
“I want to spend a whole day feeding you, just to have the pleasure of watching you eat.”
She takes a sip of her wine and raises a brow. “Is that your first rule, Mr. Alexander?”
There’s a sultry curve to her lips as they wrap around the question, and it makes my dick throb. I’ve been hard since Sloane mentioned our little scene in the elevator, and the situation has gotten even more dire. I try to be subtle about adjusting myself in my pants.
“No, but I might be inclined to add it to my list of things I hope to get the chance to do over the next eight weeks.”
Hopefulness smoothes the creases in her forehead. “So you’re not fighting me on the end date anymore?”
“No.” Yes, just not in the way you think. “You make some good points, and I don’t want anything to get in the way of this.” Of me claiming your body and soul. Of me etching myself into your lungs until you can’t fucking breathe without me.
I take a bite of my steak and soak up the sunshine of her smile. There’s no need for Sloane to know I plan on spending the next eight weeks making her need me as much as I need her. I’ve lived a lifetime without her in my arms, hating myself for wanting her, and now that I have her, letting her go is not an option.
“Thank you, Dominic.”
“You don’t have to thank me, angel. Do you have more cards to lay on the table?”
“No, I’m good. All of my cards are out there.”
Great, so the only thing you need is a definitive ending to the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Keeping the bitter thought from showing on my face is hard as hell, but I manage to do it. It’s the only way to keep this conversation on track, and damn do I want to get this shit over with so I can take her home and bury my face between her legs.
“Perfect. Then are you ready to hear my rules?”
“Yes.”
She’s breathless like she was in the club last night when I ran my hands over her curves in that stunning red dress. But instead of leaning into my body, soft and pliable like putty in my hands, her back is ramrod straight. Her shoulders squared and her eyes thoughtful as they meet mine. Now, she’s all business.
I tap my fingers on the table slowly, just to see if her business-like facade will break. My angel has a thing for hands. Specifically, my hands, which gives me more pleasure than it should. Sloane’s gaze flicks to the table for less than a second, her tongue a flash of pink as it darts out to lick her lips. I give her a wolfish smile, and the sick satisfaction that stems directly from owning a part of her she hasn’t given to someone else sends sparks of liquid fire down my spine.
“Let’s get straight to it then. First things first, and I think this should go without saying, as long as there’s an us, there’s no one else. No James. No Ash. And no other asshole Mal thinks you’ll enjoy spending an evening with.”
Sloane pushes her empty plate away. “Fine. That also means no more Kristen.”
“I’ve already told you Kristen and I aren’t a thing.”
“You should tell her. Because the back-to-back phone calls and the hand she was running all over your body at the club last night tells me she hasn’t accepted that truth yet.”
Fuck, jealous Sloane is sexy as hell, but she’s also wrong. Kristen knows it’s over between us. Yes, she did get a little friendly in front of Sloane last night, but that’s just how she is when she’s drinking. And tonight, well she was just freaking out about being passed over for partnership if she loses her current case.
“We’re just friends, and before you ask, yes I meant it when I said I haven’t slept with her in weeks.”
Sloane’s shoulders go back. “And you’ve been tested since then?”
There’s something dangerous about those words coming from her—a sinful implication that coaxes the image of me spurting hot ropes of cum into her spasming pussy, right to the front of my brain. Thoughts of filling her up until it leaks out and runs down her thighs, covering our joined skin in the sticky evidence of my need for her has my balls tightening viciously. Jesus. Will she let me have that?
The hungry glint in her eye makes me think it’s a possibility.
