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Since when is a conversation about someone’s shitty career a turn-on? The way he’s been looking at me since he opened the door earlier tonight has my body taut with arousal.
The man has this miraculous ability to hit all my sensitive spots at the same time without even touching me. I got to his door earlier annoyed by his lateness, but he shifted the mood immediately.
His body emanates energy that sucks me into a vortex of lust. The lack of self-control is driving me nuts. I hate not having control. And with Dominic Cressard, I’m barely hanging on to it.
His eyes are full of intent, the almost violent desire of a predator. It shocks me that I want to play that game. I want to be his prey, because somehow my body knows I will enjoy every minute of it. The idea is outrageous. Outrageously appealing.
The elevator has never felt this small. It’s just me and Dominic, and if I move, the car will explode.
My body is charged with want. No, not want, with an all-consuming, burning need. We stand beside each other, but he might as well have me cornered because I’m trapped.
I was grateful for Violet’s interruption earlier. Without my permission, my eyes were pulled to his full lips, and the last thing I want is to complicate things between us. I don’t care how much my core clenches in disagreement.
Do I engage in casual sex? Yes.
Do I find Dominic physically attractive? Yes.
Do I want to run into him all the time afterward? No, says my head. Yes! Yes! Yes! screams my body.
We get out of the elevator and I angle toward my door. “Good night, Dominic.”
He chuckles, the bastard, and doesn’t bother responding. He knows I’m running. It’s one thing not being able to control myself around this man. It’s completely different—in a horrifying way—that he knows about it.
I don’t look back, but the task of retrieving my keys from my minuscule clutch proves impossible. Dominic, on the other hand, opens and closes his door a bit too quickly.
I tilt my head, pressing my forehead against the door and letting out a long, loaded breath. The next breath doesn’t fill my lungs with enough oxygen. I vibrate with need and lust while the person who can help me is only a few steps away. Within reach.
No. No. No.
My vibrator will have to do. I close my eyes, and the images of Dominic in his bespoke suit immediately flash through my mind.
The fabric hugged his muscles like a second skin. I see men in suits all the time, but I swear, no one wears it with Dominic’s charm. It’s like sex personified in dark blue fabric.
What do I do every year around this time? I travel and enjoy life with an open mind. Fully. Unapologetically. Recklessly. Getting myself lost in adrenaline sports and crazy adventures.
A bit of recklessness here in New York can’t hurt.
With my fake boyfriend.
Right. Fucking. Now.
I cross the distance to his door and knock.Open up quickly before I change my mind.
He does, and Jesus, it was worth it just for that look. His eyes darken. He rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. He’s the tiger and I’m the hare, and while I want to zig-zag and hop away, my heart hammering in my chest, I know I can’t escape.
He took off his jacket already and loosened up his tie, and this slightly undone version of him is even more attractive.
“Aroused much?” He throws my earlier words back at me.
“This was a stupid idea.” I’m not letting him humiliate me. Before I can turn, he grabs my arm and pulls me inside, kicking his door closed.
My back hits the wall and Dominic’s mouth crashes against mine. He tastes like lemons and sin, his tongue pulling me into a dance that gets my body into a tug-of-war with my head. The head is losing miserably.
He fists my hair and angles me to deepen the kiss. I drag my nails down his chest to his waistband and yank at his belt, fiddling with the buckle until he lets out a guttural sound that has my core clenching again.
I gyrate my hips and try to unfasten his belt at the same time. Desperate. Needy. So not me. Damn it.
I wince when Dominic pulls away, whips me around and pins me against the wall, holding both my hands behind my back.
