A few men try to high-five him from behind the gate and a few eager women try to get his attention with whistles, but the man’s eyes are locked on mine as he strides straight over to where I stand behind the gate.
With practiced ease, he hops to the other side. And between one breath and the next, he’s pulling me into his arms and pressing a deep, hot, mind-blowing kind of kiss to my lips. More cheers and whistles fill my ears, but my mind is too busy savoring how good he feels to comprehend them.
By the time he leans back, I’m panting.And horny.
“Eight seconds, baby.” He puts his cowboy hat on my head. “I think we can both agree, I lived up to the challenge.”
“You definitely lived up to it,” I say, my voice softer now, but I feel a heat in my gaze. It’s not just about the bull ride—it’s about Dom himself and the things he makes me feel. “But that wasn’t the only challenge of the night.” I lean forward to press my lips to his ear. “Though you’re going to have to take me home tonight to see if you can live up to the final one.”
In a matter of seconds, my feet go from the floor to up in the air as Dom lifts me and wraps my legs around his waist.
“You want to spend the night with me?” he asks, his eyes flitting between my gaze and my mouth. “Lovie is staying all night with your mom?”
“I do.” I brush my nose against his. “And she is.”
As I say the words, there’s no hesitation. For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m doing something purely for myself. I want this—I want him—and I’m ready to stop holding back.
For the first time in what feels like my whole life, I’m actuallylivingmy life.
And I have Dom to thank for that.
“Hannah May.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard my name sound as good as when it’s coming off his tongue. “I think I’m falling for you.”
“I think I’m falling for you, too, cowboy.”
33
Hannah
11:30 p.m.
Dom’s place is located across the street from West End Park, and the instant I set foot in the lobby of his building, I know his apartment isn’t going to be your typical bachelor pad.
In fact, because of all the real estate knowledge I soaked up like a sponge from my dad when I was a little girl, I would venture to guess if I checked his large, loft-style apartment’s value, it’d come in at seven figures.
“You want anything to drink?” he asks, dropping his keys, phone, wallet, and cowboy hat on the marble island in the center of his kitchen. He opens the fridge with a quick hand, peeking his head inside, and I sit down on one of the stools directly across from where he stands with his back to me.
“I’ve got water and water and ...” He stops for a second. “Water.” Pauses again. “Oh, and a bottle of orange juice that appears to be expired.” He glances at me over his shoulder with a sarcastic grin. “Any of that sound good?”
“Well ... the water is very tempting,” I answer through a laugh. “I mean, expired orange juice and the resulting stomachache is certainlysomething to consider, but yeah, I guess I’m going to have to go with water.”
“One water coming right up,” he says with a wink and grabs two bottles before shutting the fridge. He leans a hip into the counter, the island a barrier between us, and uncaps his water to take a quick drink. “I might have a bottle of crappy whiskey that Shane left here ages ago, but I have a sneaking suspicion that wouldn’t be of interest to you.”
“You would be correct.” I take a drink from my bottle. “Just curious, are your food options as good as your beverage options?”
He smirks. “My food options are just fine, Hannah.”
“And byjust fine,” I start, hopping up from my stool and walking around the island to stand right beside him. “Do you meannonexistent?”
“I mean ... they’re just fine.”
Without delay, I swing open the fridge door to take a look for myself. Dom tries to stop me, but I’m too quick and he’s too late, and within seconds, I’m looking into a fridge that contains a sad amount of food.
Half the shelves are bare. Hell, if you remove the bottles of water and carton of orange juice, all you’d have left is a half-empty bottle of ketchup, old soy sauce packets from a Chinese restaurant, and a jar of what should be pickles, but only green juice remains inside.
“Dominic Dunn, your fridge is one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen!” I exclaim through a giggle. “I honestly think a house full of Vandy frat guys would be appalled.”
He tugs me back toward his chest and shuts the fridge door with a chuckle. “I guess I’m more of a takeout guy, okay?” He wraps his arms around my waist. “Please don’t tell me my fridge was the second challenge of the night,” he whispers into my hair.
