But being with Dom? It’s making it harder and harder to deny that I’m more than just a caregiver—I’m still a woman, with desires I can’t keep pushing aside.
If only tonight I could tap into my long-standing coping mechanism and shove handsome, sexy, charismatic Dominic Dunn into my compartmentalization drawer and completely forget how I feel about him.
But it’s like I’ve shoved so much into that drawer that he can’t fit inside. Or maybe he’s too big, too great, too amazing to fit inside. I can’t be sure.
I sit up, placing both feet on the cool hardwood floor, and linger there on the edge of my bed. The light of the moon is the only thing that guides a path toward my door, and I follow it on bare feet until I cross the threshold into the hallway that leads to the kitchen.
Before I know it, I’m standing in the living room, in front of the couch, and looking down at a sleeping Dom. His chest is bare, and I take time to savor my view of the impressive muscles of his arms and shoulders and stomach. He’s beautiful, this man, so beautiful that I wonder how some lucky woman hasn’t already snagged him.
His eyes flutter open, and I don’t do anything but stand there, watching as his vision clears with a few long blinks and his confused gaze meets mine.
“Hannah? Everything okay?” he asks, his voice husky with sleep, but the deepness of his tone spurs a tingle that starts in my toes and vibrates up my body until it reaches the base of my spine.
My entire body reacts to him, a flush of heat rising to my cheeks and spreading down my neck. The ache low in my belly is impossible to ignore. And all I can think is ...I want him. Badly.
Because I do. And I’m reaching a point where I’m tired of never giving in to the things thatIwant and desire.
“Hannah?” he asks again, and my mouth starts moving before I can overthink my words.
“I don’t want to sleep alone.”
The confession hangs in the air, vulnerable and raw, but I don’t take it back. It’s the truth, and I’m tired of hiding from what I feel.
And he just looks up at me. His eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he blinks and his gaze searching mine like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“Come with me, Dom,” I whisper, and not even a second later, I hold out my hand toward him.
He takes it.
And I just ... lead him through the kitchen and into the hallway, and I don’t stop until we’re in my bedroom.
My room is still dark, only the light of the moon serving as a night-light, and I lie down on my mattress, pulling the covers back to make room for him, and pat the empty spot so he knows what I want.
He hasn’t said a single word since he sleepily said my name in the living room, but he gets into my bed, adjusting his big, muscular frame so that he’s spooning me from behind.
He feels good against me, but it’s not enough. I adjust my body so that we’re looking at one another over my shoulder, and the entire time, his eyes don’t stop searching mine.
Moonbeams bounce off his chest, and I turn to face him, my tank-top-covered breasts pressing lightly against his bare, hard chest as I reach out to trace my fingers along the ridges of his muscles. I gently brush my fingertips across his shoulders and his pecs, and I don’t stop until they rest right above the waistband of his jeans.
I flip the buckle of his belt, and the faintest gasp escapes his throat. But his eyes, well, they fucking blaze in a way I swear I feel heating my own skin.
“Hannah,” he says, his voice raspy again, but it’s not from sleep.
“Dom,” I say, and let my truth into the air. “I want you.”
28
Dominic
2:00 a.m.
Dom. I want you.
Her words replay in my mind, over and over again. I search and search for hesitancy, for uncertainty, for something that will help me gain the strength to not cross this line, but fuck, all I see is warmth and passion and the kind of need I feel all the way to my cock.
She wants me. Not as an idea, not as a fleeting distraction, but as something real.
And there isn’t a single doubt about what I want—her.Completely.
