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“Val!” My voice is high and shocked and makes me sound guilty as fuck.
She picks up her bag and stares me down.
“We were both working late.” Nell saunters out, touching Val’s arm lightly as she steps past her. “Bye, Dominic. See you tomorrow.” She waves, and her smirk makes it appear like she’s the winning bidder and I’m the prize.
I step off the elevator. Val and I stare at one another wordlessly until Nell is out the doors of the building.
“Nice,” she spits out like venom.
“It was nothing,” I say like every other man probably does when it actually is something.
“I asked you for one promise! And here I thought you’d actually keep your word and not see anyone else.” She spins on her heel and rushes to the door, pushing it open with force.
“You said you had to work until seven.”
She stops and studies me. “So that’s a pass for you to fuck around behind my back?”
“I wasn’t fucking around,” I grind out between clenched teeth. “Do you really think I’d do that to you after what happened with Max? Jesus, just when I think maybe we’re getting somewhere.” I throw up my arms, pissed off that I constantly get such low expectations from her.
“I don’t know what you’d do because the fact is you were screwing her.”
“I made you a promise.”
She steps out onto the sidewalk, stopping before she hits the street. Her shoulders deflate and she circles around to look at me. “I just…”
I approach her cautiously, just in case I ever do want to father a child someday. “Why do you find it so hard to believe that I wouldn’t do that to you?”
She swipes at a tear and looks away. “I never know where I stand with you.”
“You stand on the first pedestal. It’s always you, Val. Always.” My hand cradles her cheek. “I stopped things with Nell as soon as you came back into my life.”
She nods, and her hand holds mine to her cheek. “Take me home?”
I step closer to her while raising my hand for a taxi. “Always.”
The taxi stops at the curb, and I open the door for her to slide in first. She tries to stay on the far side, but I pull her along the vinyl seat toward me.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you when we get home,” I whisper in her ear. My lips travel along the soft skin under her ear.
“Show me how I’m number one.”
Her lips find mine. I’m not opposed to public affection, so I kiss her back, sliding my tongue between her lips. Our kiss starts slow and easy. My finger runs up her thigh and she parts her legs, allowing me access. Her leggings are thin enough that I should be able to get her off in here, then I’ll really take care of her back at the house.
I glance at the cab driver, who has AirPods in and is speaking animatedly in a language I don’t recognize to someone on the phone. He’s not paying us any attention.
“Dom, we can’t,” she whispers so softly I barely hear her.
Usually I can keep my shit together until we reach the elevator of my condo at least, but I’m desperate to show her that Nell means nothing to me. I push my finger into her center, and she bucks into my hand.
“Just relax.” I kiss her jawline then capture her lips.
I try to position us so that the cab driver will think we’re just making out, but she’s squirming as I apply more pressure to her clit. Her breath hitches, the thin fabric acts as a barrier so that she doesn’t get the ultimate relief she’s seeking, and she circles her hips and presses her body closer to mine. I bite her earlobe and her body sinks into mine.
“I’m going to mark you tonight. When you look in the mirror tomorrow, you’ll know I was there and know whose bed you belong in.”
Her hand slides down my arm, gripping my wrist.
“Go ahead.” I grant her the permission she’s looking for.
Using her hips and the pressure of my fingers, she gets off, controlling her movements and the pace. Her ass rises off the bench seat, and I watch her eyes flutter shut, the pink of her cheeks turning bright red, and her body falls back down as the orgasm takes over. She’s so damn breathtaking when she comes—even if it is silent by necessity. No wonder I never get enough.
Her head falls to my shoulder, and she slides her hand in mine as though she didn’t just see stars or fireworks behind those eyelids. As I’m composing myself, she tilts her head and presses her lips to the hollow of my neck.
“I’m sorry for questioning you,” she murmurs.
Her apology should make me happy, but that time bomb is still ticking toward Sunday, and when it blows, it’s going to shatter me to pieces.
