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Fucking torture.
There were no better words to describe being with Jasmine in her flimsy, see-through cover-up and knowing I might actually get a real taste of what lay beneath before night’s end. And the way she licked her ice cream cone? I’d been unaware of what need actually was before Jasmine had crashed into my life.
She would eventually be mine, and I couldn’t fucking wait, but I wondered about the future of our relationship. A Dom through and through, I got off on having a submissive under me. I enjoyed dishing out pain to bring pleasure.
And even though Jasmine definitely seemed interested in the lifestyle, I highly doubted she would ever be up for that. With her past, I expected there would be no marking her with my hand, let alone a wooden paddle or cane I brought out on rare occasions to prove I held onto my self-control, unlike Dean.
If compatibility proved to be an issue with Jasmine, would an attempted relationship work? The thought hung heavy on my shoulders, but I told myself to take shit one step at a time—just as she’d been doing to distance herself from her past and touch issues. She just happened to move at one hell of a fast pace I wasn’t sure I trusted.
But fuck did I want to.
We ambled back down to the beach after finishing our ice cream. I’d had just about enough of the heat, but Jasmine had suggested that sunset walk after I’d picked her up. I could handle another couple of hours until sunset since it meant having her beside me.
I started to sit in the beach chair we’d left in the sand, but she stood, hands on hips, scowling at her spread out towel someone had kicked sand across.
“I think I’ve had about enough of the sun and sand for today.” She glanced at me, her frown relaxing. “Want to take off?”
I hopped back up like a fire lit under my ass. “Let’s go.”
A few minutes later, we climbed into my car, and I rolled the windows down to let the heat escape a bit before turning on the AC. “Where to?” I asked, pulling out into traffic.
She smiled and shrugged, but I caught the wariness in her eyes.
“We can grab some food and head to my place if you want. Watch a movie. Hang out.”
Her laughter also betrayed her nervousness. “Don’t feel like cooking?”
“It’s too fucking hot,” I said, cranking on the AC and putting the windows up.
“Hanging out sounds good.” Jasmine’s phone rang, and she fished it out of her bag. “Hey, Mom.” She listened as her mother’s murmuring reached my ears. I couldn’t make out the words—and wasn’t the type to try.
“Oh.”
The word sounded forced, drawing my gaze off the road for a second. Face pale, Jasmine stared out the windshield.
“W-when?” she asked.
A few seconds passed, and I clutched the steering wheel. Obviously, the call had brought bad news.
“I might have seen him this morning, but I got distracted.” Her swallow sounded loud over the blasting AC. “Going into Mr. Donovan’s backyard.”
I frowned at the tremor in her voice.
She blew a deep breath out between her lips. “Okay, I will.”
I glanced over at her again to find her peering at me. “I’m sure it’ll be all right, Mom, but I’ll ask him.”
“What’s going on?” I asked the second she hung up.
“The asshole is out of jail and moved back.”
“I thought he couldn’t be anywhere near you,” I said, my brow furrowed into a scowl.
“I guess the other side of town is far enough away he isn’t breaking the restraining order, but knowing he’s close by…I think I saw the back of him when you picked me up.” Nerves had gotten the best of her voice, and she all but whispered, her hands clenched around the phone on her lap.
“Fucker,” I growled, hold the steering wheel tight as though I wrapped my fingers around his neck. “You should call the cops.”
