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Time, place, frustration and animosity cease to exist, floating only as a faint memory in my foggy mind. I’m aware of the silence in the kitchen, but it’s inconsequential. My heartbeat drums in my temples, swelling my head and muting the world around me.
I lose the ability to think, but my other senses go into overdrive, making me hypersensitive to his smell, his touch and his taste. And the sound when Dominic groans against my lips again. It’s like junk food. I know I’ve had enough, but I can’t help it. I should stop us, but instead of a protest, a moan escapes me.
Dominic takes it as an invitation and the tenderness is replaced by urgency. He is devouring me now with need, passion, dominance, and I surrender control to him. He takes charge and I let him. It feels… liberating. What?
His length hardens against my stomach as my hips shamelessly grind against him. He swears under his breath, brushing my lips before diving in again. This time it’s deep and fast.
Dominic pulls away and cups my face. “Perhaps a sleepover, Chils.”
The idea excites me beyond reason. And the consequences douse that excitement with a mountain of ice.
We’re both panting. I don’t want him to know I’m as wet as he is hard. I don’t even want to know that. This is a disaster in the making. Just a few hours ago, I thought this would be an exercise in self-control. And here I am, letting him dominate my will with his kiss.
He’s a good kisser, but that doesn’t make hooking up a good idea. I muster my determination to ignore the pang of disappointment at cutting this short.
“Enough pretending for one night,” I growl, unreasonably proud of getting the upper hand.
He raises his eyebrows. It’s just a microsecond of surprise before he rearranges his face into his usual arrogant grin.
“You’re right. Nia is waiting anyway. I better go.” He calls his goodbyes to my parents again and leaves me.
I stare at the door. Fuck him. What did that mean? Is Nia waiting to work with him, or has he been lying about their relationship and they are screwing?
His words leftmy upper handblanketed in anger, which is my default feeling, so I should feel safe. But today it’s coupled with sexual frustration and, to my utter dismay, jealousy. I hate how he makes me feel.
I hate him.
Chapter12
Dominic
While we make frequent appearances in front of her parents, London and I barely speak for the next two weeks. We stick to pretending. Not just in terms of the fake dating, but also stubbornly ignoring the heat between us.
Our kiss after dinner with her parents was a promise, but she stomped all over it with her words.Enough pretending for one night. I don’t believe for one moment she was pretending.
Since that night, however, "Chils” is no longer short for hot chili. My pet name for her now signifies chills. My angry, fake girlfriend transformed from a dragon into an ice queen.
I’m thinking about it all too much. I don’t accept failed missions. I don’t fail.
Tonight, however, there is no escapingus. Bianca gave us tickets for a Broadway show.
I yank at my tie, frustrated with the knot. I try to form it again. I haven’t worn a suit since the day I collapsed. It feels strange. Like putting on a second skin that doesn’t fit anymore.
My three-hundred-dollar tie is a noose around my neck. The premium cotton dress shirt prickles like barbed wire against my skin.
The last thing I want is to spend an evening with Chils while my wardrobe is attacking my senses.
An incoming video call buzzes from my living room and I make my way to answer.
“Isn’t it the middle of the night over there?” I tilt the screen up because I can’t sit. Too much nervous energy jiggling through my veins.
Rocco sits on his sofa with the baby in his huge arms. The thing is so tiny he is stroking her back with his index finger and it still covers half of her body.
“Yeah, dipshit. Newsflash, babies don’t give a shit.” He yawns. “Why are you wearing a suit?”
I briefly consider lying, but what’s the point? “Going on a date.”
Rocco chuckles while he continues to gently stroke his daughter’s back. “You know that getting a lap dance in a club is not a date?”
