Chapter Thirteen
Dominic
“So what do you say, sexy?” Tatiana—that was the name of the woman who was currently hitting on me—asked, her long claws finding my chest and scratching down it. Only, the feeling wasn’t turning me on, it was making me want to pluck her fingers off my skin. Which was exactly what I did.
“As much as I appreciate the offer to go back to your place so you can ‘ride my tongue until the sun comes up’”—her words, not mine—“I’m going to have to pass.” And that’d be a hard pass. Because not a single thing about her drew me in. I only had one woman on my mind, and she was the one woman who didn’t seem to be ready to give herself over to me. Or to a good time.
I wasn’t sure why either. We promised to try to find a way to sneak in a little fun tonight, but once we got here it was like she barricaded herself off.
Maybe she wasn’t looking for sex tonight.
And that was fine.
But I’d swear I was being tortured.
This wasn’t even a case of he-wants-what-he-can’t-have (in this case, who he can’t have). Although, I couldn’t have her, and I did want her, so maybe it was, just not in the traditional sense.
“You’re turning me down?” Her low voice that sounded like a barely-there whisper raised to a normal volume. Another thing I wasn’t tired of—the phoniness I got from ninety percent of women just so we could have a good fuck. Those days were behind me, and I couldn’t have been happier about it. She pushed her tits out and angled her head, trying again. “Are you sure? We could have some real—”
Her words were cut off by the blood pumping in my ears. Maria breezed past me so fast I thought I was going to get whiplash. Then she stopped short, approaching a sleazy (okay, I didn’t actually know he was sleazy) son of a bitch. She had to be kidding me. This joker didn’t give two flying shits about her. He saw her as one thing with fine assets—a walking vagina with nice tits and a firm ass. Men weren’t that difficult to figure out, trust me.
I actually cared about Maria, but don’t mistake my caring for every man caring. They didn’t. Well, most of them didn’t. A very good majority of them didn’t. That was my honest-to-goodness-hold-my-hand-on-a-stack-of-Bibles truth for you. Take it and run with it because no one would ever be more real with you than I’d just been.
Tatiana kept chirping away, and I caught bits and pieces. Something about how she just got over a long-term relationship and wanted no-strings-attached fun. Problem? I already had that with a woman who I wanted more with and didn’t seem to be getting it. So it seemed Tatiana and I were at an impasse. I couldn’t give her what she wanted, though. Maybe if Maria wasn’t in the picture, things would’ve been different, but she was, and playing hypotheticals was never a good time for me.
I had no idea if I cut her off or not, but I held a hand up. “Could you excuse me?” I asked, my eyes hell-bent on focusing on the one person who mattered most to me in this entire club. Hell, in the entire goddamn state of New York.
I would have loved to know what she was doing. Which was why I was going to go over there and see for myself.
Again, not a clue if the woman answered because I had already checked out. Yeah, yeah, judge me all you wanted, but I had more pertinent matters to tend to. Like getting that fuckboy’s hand off my girl’s arm. Oh, shit, she wasn’t my girl. Fine, scratch that, my friend’s arm. Nah, it didn’t sit well with me. In my head, she was my girl. And now I sounded like a delusional fucker—again. Great, just great. I really had to work on my grip on reality. Oh well, another time.
I had a feeling the only two that lucked out tonight were Perla and Frankie, staying home to watch the kids. Honestly, I would have rather done that with Maria. Yeah, so I could have more time to secretly pine over a woman who isn’t pining over me.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” Allie asked as she came out of nowhere, her hand suddenly on my shoulder, trying to hold me back from continuing my journey to Maria and Sleazeball.
My fists curled at my side, and my body temperature rose. I wasn’t jealous, though, so don’t go thinking I was. I was just trying to save my friend from making a mistake. Sure, she wouldn’t sleep with him, but I knew his type. He’d find out it was a boyfriend she wanted and that she didn’t do random hookups, and if he was okay with waiting for a big payout—which was rare, I’d admit—he’d date her only to screw her. She’d feel, well, screwed—and not in a good way, like the way I knew I made her feel—and she’d be hurt. Forget all of that. I’d hurt him before he could hurt her. Problem solved.
Except Allie was now standing squarely in front of me. She was small, lightweight, so if I couldn’t walk around her, I could just pick her up and move her. But I had human decency, so I tried to use my words first. “Get out of my way, Allie.” Nice, right? Sorry, but I wasn’t feeling extra nice right about now.
“No. Cockblocking your single best friend is not cool,” she said, her eyes narrowed. “Maria needs to get some. She’s way too wound up lately.”
Impossible, I knew, so I shook my head. What Allie didn’t know—she was getting some. With me. She didn’t need any more. I was the appetizer, the main fucking course, and the goddamn dessert. I was all of it, and I could be an entire seven-course meal if that was what she wanted. Hell, I knew I had the stamina for it. All she had to do was tell me that was what she wanted and by the time I was done with her, she’d feel like she was training for a marathon. The longest one of her life.
But I couldn’t make Allie suspicious. She wasn’t stupid, and she’d likely figure it out in seconds if I put up any sort of fight. So I cleared my throat and held my hands up—although, I wanted to do something entirely different with them (to Sleazeball). “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” she agreed, crossing her arms. “She was hesitant at first, but then she saw you with that woman, and it was like it was all the push she needed. You two really are the best of friends. You even need to know the other is having fun first.” She placed a finger on her chin, thinking. “It’s weird, actually, but then she was really excited to go over there and introduce herself to him, so regardless, I guess it’s a win.”
My jaw was twitching so much, I couldn’t seem to stop it even if I wanted to. Through gritted teeth, I managed, “The biggest.” Mistake. Ever. On my part, probably. Because I should have told her how I felt. Instead, I decided to fuck myself—literally—to the sweet, delicious memories of her. A swift kick in the ass, that was what I deserved.
Allie waved at someone behind me, probably Brady, because then she got this sultry look in her eye that usually meant he was close by. “Later, Deluca. My man’s waiting for me, but don’t piss on Maria’s good time, ‘kay?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied, my voice monotone. “I’m calling for a ride, and I’ll meet you all back at the house.”
She smiled, starting toward Brady as I turned around to hear what she had to say. “You’re getting boring in your old age.”
I shook my head, scrubbing a hand down my face. The Morellis were going to be the death of me. I wasn’t old, by the way. I was the same age as Maria.
As I was walking out of the bar, I passed by Maria and quickly snaked an arm around her waist, knowing it’d piss Sleazeball off. Yeah, I’d decided that was how I was referring to him. It seemed fitting, even though I didn’t know squat about him. It was a shot in the dark, but still probably true, so I didn’t feel too bad about it. “Looks like someone’s going to get a time-out,” I whispered in her ear, so low, in fact, I knew he couldn’t hear a lick of that. Which was just the way I wanted it. Because it’d keep him guessing and make him curious as to what the hell was going on right under his nose.
Too bad I wasn’t sticking around to explain.
I dropped my arm as quickly as I came and smiled as she tossed me a death stare—seriously, it could have revived the dead only to put them six feet under all over again.
A cocky grin was about all she was getting from me as I meandered out of the club, pretty damn pleased with myself.
Maybe it wasn’t right. Okay, it definitely wasn’t right. But at least now I knew her night would be cut short, and she’d be joining me back at the house sooner rather than later. That meant less time for me to sit up and wonder what was going on with her and Sleazeball. It was selfish, I knew, but all was fair in love and war. Maria would have agreed with me on that.
* * *
All I could think about was Maria. When I’d finally given in and gone to bed, I’d honestly hoped I’d have a wet dream and be done with this tonight. It’d quench my thirst until we could be together again and that would be that. End of story. Except it wasn’t the end of the story because I didn’t have a wet dream. Instead, all the memories of tonight at the club kept spiraling through my head like the world’s worst reel.
Her lips stained red with that paint she put on her lips. I wanted that red all over my cock, staining it in a perfect ring around me, so it was marked at the place she sucked, where she took me so fucking deep like a good girl.
Her tight, black dress that was short enough to leave little to the imagination if she sat the wrong way, accentuating her ass like a dream. I wanted to grab that ass and give it a nice squeeze. I’d refrained only because of the multiple sets of eyes we easily could’ve had on us at any given point. Although, I wouldn’t have minded a show. For all I gave a shit, everyone in the Hamptons could watch as I claimed Maria with a healthy dose of PDA. Not that she would’ve cared much for that. Thus, I hadn’t done it, and probably never would.
Then there were her tits, which, come on, I had the most restraint on earth for not giving a second look, only a fraction of the attention they deserved. They were like two perfect globes. Luckily for me, they were all mine for the time being. For the time being because we were not lovers, we were friends with benefits.
All right, that did it. I tossed the covers off and decided to go see Maria. I was a man in need, and I had no doubt she was in need, too.
I looked down at my bare chest, boxers, and bare feet. Screw it. No one should be up at this late hour. Besides, if all went according to plan, these boxers wouldn’t last more than ten seconds. I didn’t need to put on a shirt or shoes. Less fucking around and more walking.
I continued, not second-guessing going to see her for a moment. When I got to her door, I knocked. If we weren’t in this great big house with other people, I would have said something provocative, but I was raised to be a gentleman, so I refrained.
No answer.
I knocked again.
No answer.
Should I say it’s me? No, that would make it obvious, and if someone did hear, they’d wonder why I was knocking on a door and whose door I was knocking on in the middle of the night.
When there was still no answer, I decided to try the knob, swinging the door open. See, sneaking around wasn’t that bad. In fact, anyone who thought it was clearly didn’t have the ninja-like skills and covert intelligence I did.
Perla looked up from the bed, some pink mask shit on her forehead and her hair a mess. “What the hell, Dom?” she asked, practically shrieking the words out as she scanned my body—and lack of clothes.
Then her hands instinctively went to her chest. My guess was that she probably realized she was also wearing very little, e.g. a thin shirt. Too thin for a man to see a woman wearing when said woman was like a kid sister to said man. “Oh, shit,” I yelled in hushed tones, covering my eyes and trying to make this less awkward. “Wrong room.”
How did I get the room wrong? I didn’t see how this was ever going to be anything other than what it was—awkward as fuck.
“What do you mean wrong room ? Whose room did you think this was?”
Good fucking question. Why did I say that? I couldn’t very well answer her. But that was a very, very, very good question. Any day now for that answer to come to me. One that wasn’t the truth but didn’t sound like a blatant lie. Come on! What could I say? “I was peeing.” I uncovered my eyes.
She quirked a brow as my brain tried to formulate the second half of my response. The first half was crap, so hopefully the second was better.
“And I forgot which room was mine. I thought it was this one.” And apparently I was knocking for the door to magically open. Yeah, right. Thankfully, though, they didn’t seem to hear the knocking, hopefully making this train wreck believable. “Honest mistake.” If I had no brain. What was wrong with me?
“You lost your room?” Perla questioned, her head shaking as she closed her eyes and then reopened them, likely hoping she was dreaming so she didn’t have to just discover what I’d known—I was a schmuck.
Quite possibly the biggest one around. Was there a contest for that? Could I win money for it? Some game show perhaps? The Biggest Schmuck. It seemed like it should be. “Yep.” I placed my hand over the front of my boxers, feeling more than a little uneasy about all of this. “I should—”
I was just about to leave when Frankie came out of their en suite bathroom. When he saw what I was in, he growled (I didn’t blame him), and he stood in front of Perla, practically blocking her from my view (again, totally understandable). “Dude, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Steam wasn’t actually coming out of his ears, but I knew it could. He looked pretty pissed.
Made sense. I just barged in on him and his wife in the middle of the night. Again, someone I looked at like a sister. Yeah, I needed to go back to my room.
“I lost my room,” I repeated the way Perla phrased it by way of explanation (read: no explanation at all). “I’m going to go, though, and find it. I think I know which one it is now.”
Wow, I hated myself. It was official. I was starting a hate club for Dominic Deluca. Anyone else want to join? I’d waive the admission fee if you signed up in the next twenty-four hours. We’ll be handing out goodies to the first ten people who sign up, too. They’ll get a cardboard cutout of me that they could kick for their own amusement.
“Glad to hear it. Now get out of here,” Frankie said, shaking his head and closing the door on my face. I deserved that.
As I walked back to my room, all I could think was how I could do without another trip to the Hamptons for a good long time.