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“Let me go get it quick,” he says, leaving the kitchen to go, I assume, to his bedroom in the finished basement. I’ve never been down there since he moved in, but I’m sure he’s very particular about where things go. He strikes me as the neurotic type.
When he returns, he’s holding a little velvet box. It’s too big to be a ring, but too small to be a necklace.
He opens it, and I see a plain, sporty-looking smart watch displayed proudly in the center.
“This is cool, but I still need to wear shoes. I’m not sure what you’re getting at here. I already have like two of these, anyway,” I scoff, removing the bracelet from the box and trying it on with no enthusiasm whatsoever.
“You’re missing something,” he replies, taking my wrist and ratcheting the bracelet around my wrist until it’s right against my skin.
He takes out his phone, and after a few minutes, the bracelet vibrates on my wrist.
“Jesus, what did you do?” I ask as the bracelet continues to vibrate. “This is really obnoxious.”
“It’s just activating right now. It won’t do that forever. It’s collecting your biometric data,” he explains.
I attempt without success to remove the bracelet. It’s locked in place, and I can’t loosen it at all. “What for? Why do you need that?”
“It’s a tracker. Your father got it last night after I explained what happened. You can go out, but only with me and only when you’re wearing this.”
I’m completely insulted. “This is insane! I’m not a pet, it’s not like you can microchip me. Where the fuck did he even get this? How is this legal?”
Dominik scoffs, causing my face to burn with anger. “Do you really think your father gives a shit about legality? Besides, this is pretty standard tech. A lot of overprotective parents put them on their kids. It’s the same thing you would get if you were under house arrest.”
I want to scream, but I know that will only make things worse at this point. “Okay, fine. But if you wanted to control me so bad, maybe you should have gotten me one of those remote-control vibrators instead. I’d be a lot less likely to run away then.”
His eyes narrow, and he appears to be caught off guard by my comment. “I doubt we would get much done if I were controlling it.”
Even though I said it to get a reaction out of him, I didn’t plan a follow-up. “Well, it depends on how well you warm me up first.”
He bites his lower lip as if he’s fighting the urge to say what hereallythinks. His whole demeanor has been different since yesterday. Now I know that he finds me completely intoxicating, enough to go against the wishes of my father. That’s a weakness I can manipulate to its full potential. He’s just like any other man – fully believing that he’s in complete control of his urges. I can’t wait to prove to him how wrong he is.
The tension in the air is so thick and electric that I’m barely able to contain myself as we wait for our driver to arrive. My father decided that it would be a better idea to have someone else drive us into town because he wants Dominik to watch me more closely. He’s afraid I’ll jump out of the car at a red light, which is something I’m wishing I had done the last time we went out.
Even though I’m projecting a collected, coy energy, I can feel myself responding to the tone of the conversation. My pussy begins to pulse steadily in my panties, and even though I know that nobody can see, I still feel exposed and vulnerable. A rosy pink flush of color has spread over my cheeks, and I’m tempted to run off to the bathroom to splash cool water on my skin. I’d hate for Dominik to notice how flustered I’ve become, but how much would I hate it, really?
The driver arrives on time, just as I’m debating the idea of running upstairs to hide. I’ve never felt so out of control, like I’m at the mercy of someone else’s whims for once. Dominik probably has this effect on every woman he ever meets, making me feel like I’m just another warm body in his fan club.
As the driver approaches the door to open it for us, Dominik grasps my upper arm in order to guide me to the car. I’m insulted that he feels the need to be so harsh about it, but at the same time, he’s got a lot more skin in this game than I do. I’m shocked my father didn’t punish him for the last time.
I press myself up against the door on my side of the back seat, anxious about showing any sign of interest to Dominik at all. The kiss we shared shook me to my core. I’ve thought about it on an endless loop since it happened.
For him, I’m sure it was nothing more than another average kiss at best and a mistake at worst. I’d give anything to know how he felt about it, what he expects to happen now that Pandora’s box has been opened. That isn’t the kind of thing you can put back and move on from.
When I look over at him, it’s clear that Dominik is at war with himself over giving me attention while trying to do his job. He needs to supervise me, but if his eyes linger just a little too long, I’ll know that he wants more than just a spontaneous kiss.
And we can’t have that.
Arriving at the mall with Dominik at my side feels both powerful and embarrassing. People look at us like he’s my boyfriend, and even though their stares are questioning and disapproving, I revel in the knowledge that people notice us together. He still has his hand wrapped around my upper arm, though he’s loosened his grip somewhat.
“So, we aren’t supposed to linger too long at this place because we’re too close to Italian territory. We need to make it quick. Do you know exactly where we’re supposed to be going?” Dominik asks, increasingly annoyed at the cacophony of teenaged shrieks on the other side of the food court.
“Yeah, I know where we’re going. Do you think I want to spend a lot of time here? I hate malls,” I reply.
He sighs heavily, closing his eyes as if he’s preparing himself to receive a piercing or urethral catheter. “Alright, then maybe you should lead us there.”
I fucking hate how flat his affect can be sometimes. I hate the way he makes the most obvious comments just to get the last word in and lord his authority over me. It’s obnoxious and does nothing to favor him.
Even still, I can’t help but notice the way that his black t-shirt is clinging to his chest and abs. I’ve never seen him in black before, and it blows everything else out of the water. The way his hair flows messily to one side of his face adds to the gritty, rugged look, and the embers of that same stupid pulse begin to warm me between my legs.
