Chapter 23 #2
I stare blankly at him, not that he notices. He’s moved on to his cleaning ritual while my brain glitches. It does that a lot since meeting Tommy Donati.
Guess it’s time to shop. I click on everything that looks cute and add to cart.
More things that I even want, but his edict seems to have called me out, so I’m apparently going to rise to the challenge.
I’m so engrossed I don’t notice him approach until he taps the cart icon in the top right corner.
My eyes dart to the total, and when I see a string of numbers totaling over thirteen thousand dollars, I suck in a lungful of air that was supposed to be a maniacal peal of laughter but ends up choking me instead. I launch into a coughing fit.
“Jesus, Dani. Try to breathe.” He pats my back—not at all helpful but still sweet.
Once I’m no longer on the verge of dying, he drops the black credit card in my lap.
“Looks good. Check out, and we’ll get ready for bed.
I’m beat.” Then he walks away as though he didn’t just authorize me to charge a small fortune to his card.
I can’t. There’s no way. Maybe I’ll just take a few items out—some of the high-dollar pieces.
I’m still gaping at him when he stops to peer over his shoulder at me. “And if the number on my card statement doesn’t match what I just saw on that screen, we’ll pick another store and start from scratch.”
Of course, he knew exactly what I was planning to do.
“Tommy! I can’t just—”
“You can, and you will.”
Bitch, listen to the man and buy the clothes.
I roll my eyes at my inner voice as if anyone asked her opinion.
“Where are you going?” I call after him.
He peers around the corner from the hallway, only meeting my gaze briefly. “I just have to check a few things. I’ll be right back.” Domineering Tommy from seconds ago is suddenly gone, a shy, almost embarrassed version of himself remaining.
I’m so confused. What is he doing that caused him to retreat into himself like that?
There’s no way to know, so I don’t bother guessing.
I use the credit card to complete my purchase and try not to think about how much money I just spent.
When I’m done, I tie my hair on the top of my head for a quick rinse in the shower.
His shower allows for privacy, but I can’t stop thinking about what happens after.
Do I towel off and dress in front of him, or do it hidden behind the shower wall?
Will he even be in the bathroom when I get out?
I’m swimming in questions and anticipation as I wash my face and body, so absorbed with my curiosity that I don’t realize until I turn off the water that Tommy never even waited until I was done.
He leans against the edge of the floating wall, just behind my towel hanging on a hook.
His ravenous stare laps at the water dripping down my body.
The sight is just as arousing as any touch could ever be.
My inner muscles clench in my core while my nipples pebble as if trying to draw the rest of my body closer to him.
“You could have joined me,” I say in a sultry tone I hardly recognize.
He shakes his head slowly from side to side. “Told you, not until you’re my wife. And if I step foot in there naked, I will fuck you against the shower wall.”
The only thing keeping me from begging him right now is my own insane arousal.
It’s sucked all the words from my brain.
Absently, I reach for my towel, unable to speak.
He takes it in his hands before I can and instructs me to hold out my arms, then proceeds to towel off my entire body—every crease and crevice.
“ Tommy .” The whispered plea slips from my lips when he slowly swipes the towel along my slit.
A groan is wrenched from deep within him right before he drops to his knees and props one of my legs over his shoulder. He’s instantly devouring me. I have to clench his hair to steady myself.
“ Yes , Tommy. God, it’s so good.” Like some kind of hair trigger, I don’t have time to say more when a blinding wall of pleasure crashes over me.
It feels extra intense being upright. I’ve never had an orgasm on my feet.
It’s incredible. I gasp and shudder and shake, doing my best to stay on my feet until Tommy rises and helps to support me.
“D better hurry the fuck up.” His words are spoken through teeth clenched so tightly I struggle to understand.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you need to get in bed before I do something I’ll regret. Now .” He steps aside, his body rigid with restraint.
I put on my pajamas and brush my teeth while he takes his turn in the shower.
I’m snuggled under the covers when he joins me, though he doesn’t get in bed right away.
He checks the alarm panel first. I hadn’t noticed it until now.
Once the alarm is set, he closes the blinds, stepping back twice to make sure each set hangs at exactly the same height.
After that, he opens his nightstand drawer and takes out a gun.
I watch with a bit of unease as he unloads and reloads the weapon.
“Should have done this earlier while you were in the shower, but watching you was too tempting.”
“It’s not a surprise to me that you have guns in the house,” I inform him softly.
“It’s not that,” he says almost to himself.
He gets into bed and begins to situate himself, but in the process, his attention is drawn back to the blinds.
He sighs heavily and gets up, adjusts one of the blinds, steps back to assess them one last time, then opens the nightstand again.
As though he hadn’t already checked, he unloads and reloads the gun again.
His lips are pulled into a frown throughout, and his gaze keeps far from mine. There’s something about his movement, too. A stiffness that signals agitation. Annoyance. I think, maybe, he’s annoyed with himself for being unable to resist the compulsion to check these things.
I’ve known he suffers from these sorts of obsessive tendencies but haven’t seen much sign of them while I’ve been here. The part that bothers me most is seeing how upsetting it is to him. I can only imagine how vulnerable it feels to allow someone new to witness these challenges.
How very humbling to think he wants me close more than he cares about his pride or discomfort.
I remember my years of speech therapy and my reluctance to talk to the other kids at school—those were the hardest years of my life.
I’ve overcome those challenges, for the most part.
Tommy is still right there in the trenches. It hurts my heart.
Once he’s finally settled under the covers, I scoot closer and wrap an arm and leg over him, snuggling into his side. His entire body relaxes beneath me. So much pent-up tension. I kiss his chest in one more silent reassurance and drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.