“Like what?” My voice croaks.
She moves closer, her gaze fixed on mine, and I can see the fire in her eyes—the same fire that’s had me hooked on her nearly my entire life.
“I’m so wet,” she purrs. “Take care of me.”
Fuck me.
“I know you want me.”
“Ellie—”
“Don’t deny it,” she cuts me off, her hands pressing against my chest. “I can feel it. Every time you look at me, every time we’re in the same room. You want me just as much as I want you. Let me reward you tonight for protecting me.”
I swallow hard, my resolve shattering to pieces at the same time my cock presses against my zipper.
Of course I want her. But not like this. Not when she’s drunk and vulnerable and not thinking clearly.
“You need to sleep,” I say, my voice strained.
“I told you what I need, and it’s definitely not sleep. So I had a little to drink—who cares? I can handle myself, and I can handle you.”
Fuck, do I remember how well she handles me. I remember it so well, it’s been playing on repeat for ten years, every time I’ve wrapped my hand around my cock, it’s only Ellie. It’s always only been her.
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’m staying down here. Go upstairs. Please.”
Her expression falters, just for a moment, and I hate myself for putting that flicker of hurt in her eyes. But then she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine. Be boring. See if I care.”
I don’t respond. I can’t.
“I’ll just be in bed, taking care of myself.”
It takes me a moment, and then I realize what she said—at least what I think she said.
Her footsteps stop when she reaches the top of the stairs. “You’re welcome to watch.”
CHAPTER 35
Dominic
STRAIGHT TO HELL
PRESENT
I’m frozen, stuck on the bottom step. If I go up, something will happen. What? I’m not entirely sure. I can’t touch her—I won’t. I waited ten years, and I’m not going to fuck it up just because my dick can’t listen to my brain. But would watching be so terrible?
“Are you coming?” Ellie calls out at the top of the stairs, laughter in her voice.
Something tells me I’ll be coming at some point. At this rate, probably in my damn pants.
I’m going straight to hell for this. As I take the first step up, my index and middle fingers glide across the chain around my neck, tugging at it like it might make me feel better about what I’m about to do.
Hell it is.
I walk slow, my limbs heavy with hesitation.
When I get to the top, her bedroom door is propped open and all the lights are off, save the the flicker of a candle.
I should turn back around, be a better man. I justknow there will be fallout from this come tomorrow when her mind is lucid, but right now I don’t want to be a better man. I want to storm in there and strip that dress off, and sink into her like I’ve been dreaming about.
