Chapter 23 Sloane
Sloane
Now
I forgot how good it feels to have regular orgasms that aren’t courtesy of my vibrator or, in moments of true desperation, my own hand. For so long I thought the all-consuming, glowing from the inside out, walking on a cloud feeling was lost to me forever.
But after three weeks of Dominic fucking me with his fingers and worshipping me with his sinful tongue on every available surface—my bed, my shower, the kitchen counter, and the now-finished vanity in the bathroom of the Presidential Suite—I can happily say I’m intimately familiar with the postorgasmic haze and all its pleasure-filled glory once again.
I feel like my happiness is seeping out of my pores, broadcasting to everyone around me that someone is making me very happy at home.
And that would be a good thing if it didn’t make Dominic stare at me like a loon, his chest puffed out proudly, causing me to blush through every Sunday dinner at Mama’s in the past few weeks.
If we weren’t supposed to be acting like two people who are barely friends, I would grin back at him.
I would let my feminine pride and never-ending desire for him shine in my eyes and gloss right over the other emotions I’m too scared to put a name to.
Instead, I just smile into my phone and text him to cut it out before someone notices.
Not that anyone has noticed.
All of Dominic’s heated gazes and casual touches while we were at Mama’s on Sunday went unnoticed by Mal, and James, who sees us together multiple times a week, hasn’t picked up on anything.
He would have to spend more than five seconds in a room with Dominic to do that though.
Our apparent ability to fly under the radar has only encouraged Dominic and made me more anxious about us getting caught.
He reassures me every night that things will be fine, even as shadows of something like uncertainty move behind his eyes.
And once he’s done using his words to comfort me, he spreads my legs and uses everything but his dick to make me come.
Last night, it was a combination of my vibrator and his tongue.
The toy buzzing inside of my soaked channel on its highest setting while he lapped up my juices and sucked on my clit until I saw stars.
I came three times like that and begged him to give me more as he rubbed his throbbing dick along my slit, lubricating himself in my juices before climbing up my body and holding my breasts together so he could fuck them.
I moaned and writhed underneath him while he used my body to get himself off, and the sounds he made as he came all over me are still ringing in my ears on Wednesday afternoon as I leave one of the smaller rooms on the seventh floor where Dominic’s team has just installed crown molding.
It’s the only reason I don’t realize the door to the storage closet is open until two warm hands grip my waist and haul me through it.
My surprised yelp is muffled by the hand over my mouth, and I immediately quiet as Dominic’s face comes into focus.
When he’s sure I won’t scream, he moves his hand to my chin, tipping my face up so he can brush his nose over mine.
I smile at the sweet gesture that’s quickly becoming my favorite non-sexual thing that he does.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t want to scare you, but I needed a minute alone so I could do this.”
Hungry lips meet mine in a kiss that makes my toes curl.
My lips part on a moan, and his tongue slips in, licking into my mouth with slow, languid strokes that make me think of sex.
Of his body on top of mine, the hard ridges of his abs slick with sweat and pressed to my stomach while he reaches the end of me with every thrust.
My arms go to his neck, fingers linking at his nape and pulling him down farther so I can deepen the kiss. He lets me hold him there for just a minute before pulling my arms back down and ending it.
I’m pouting when his dark eyes meet mine. “That wasn’t enough.”
Dominic laughs. “It’s never enough for you, angel.”
I give him a playful jab in the chest that probably hurts my finger more than it bothers him. “Shut up. You’re the one who pulled me in here. I was trying to get some work done while you weren’t around to distract me. Little did I know, you were lurking in a storage closet like a creeper.”
His smile spreads and so does the warmth in my chest. I love making Dominic smile. Over the past few weeks, I’ve realized that putting a smile on his face is more satisfying than making him scowl.
“Are you happy with the molding in the rooms down here? It’s not as ornate as the ones you selected for the suites upstairs, but I think it looks good.”
I nod. “Yes, the guys did an amazing job with the installation. It went in a lot quicker than I expected.”
Which worries me. Not for the project, since anyone in real estate can tell you finishing a renovation early is a good thing, but for the relationship we’ve just started that we both agreed would end when the project does. I can’t help but wonder if the deadline still stands if we wrap early.
It’s your damn deadline, don’t you think you should figure that out?
I should, but the truth is I don’t want to think about ending things at all. Every time I’ve tried to picture going back to life without Dominic, my heart sinks inside my chest. It hasn’t even been a full month, and I already can’t imagine going to sleep without him by my side.
If Dominic catches the note of distress in my voice, he doesn’t let on.
Instead, he gives me another easy smile and nods in agreement, pleased that his team is moving through the remaining list of tasks so quickly.
Maybe he hasn’t thought about what this particular professional advancement means for us.
Or maybe he’s not opposed to ending things early.
I shut that thought down, focusing on the handsome man in front of me instead. He’s talking animatedly about some aspect of the project, completely unaware of the list of ways to slow this project down I’m currently compiling in my head.
“…but Andre can handle that, because I have plans tonight.”
My eyebrows raise in surprise. This is the first I’m hearing of any plans. “You do?”
“Yes,” he states simply, hands cupping my ass through the fabric of my dress. “I’m taking you out to dinner.”
“Oh really? How’d you manage to rent out the rooftop again so soon?” I wrinkle my nose to let him know I’m only half serious. “Please don’t tell me you sold your soul to Sebastian Adler.”
He pinches my left cheek, and I gasp. “No, smartass. We’re going out in public, to a restaurant with other people.”
“Dominic…” I can’t bring myself to say the words because he knows, he knows this has to be private. We can’t go out to dinner like a normal couple even if part of me wants to do exactly that.
“Two of those people,” he continues, dropping a kiss at the corner of my mouth to erase the frown forming there, “will be Mal and Chris.”
“Chris?” My frown gets deeper. There’s only one Chris I know and readily associate with Mal’s name. A bastard from college who broke her heart into a million little pieces then went to med school on the other side of the country. “As in Mal’s Chris from college?”
It’s a dumb question and I already know the answer to it, but I’m holding out hope for a miracle. Dominic dashes it with a simple nod. “One and the same.”
“I didn’t realize you were still in touch with him.”
Chris was the resident assistant on Dominic and Eric’s hall during our freshman year of college.
He was two years older and the object of Mal’s affections well before they started hooking up during his senior year.
They were only together for a few months before he pulled the rug out from under her.
I don’t even know everything that went down between them, but I do know he’s the last person on earth she would want to have dinner with tonight.
He shrugs. “Chris and I have always been cool. He just moved back to New Haven, and he’s been trying to get in touch with Mal for weeks, but she won’t take his calls. I told him I would help him out.”
“What does he have on you?” He gives me a confused look, and I laugh. “He must have something big on you to make you willingly participate in this whole charade. Mal will probably slice both of your balls off before she hears a word he has to say.”
Dominic winces at the mention of a knife coming near his balls but looks otherwise unbothered. Brave man. “He doesn’t have anything on me. I just… He wants to apologize to her, and I think it would do both of them some good to have closure after all these years.”
“But if he’s been reaching out and she hasn’t answered, maybe she doesn’t want closure. Maybe she’s over it.”
One of his hands slides up, resting on the small of my back. “Or maybe she’s being stubborn and…”
“He really hurt her, Dominic.” I search his face. “Do you know what it’s like to have your heart ripped out like that? To be shattered by someone and left alone to pick up the pieces?”
The tortured expression etched into his features answers my question with a glaring certainty that steals my breath. My God. Who is the woman that hurt Dominic badly enough to put that look on his face, and why do I want to kill her for daring to own a part of him and throwing it away?
“Yeah, angel.” His hands fall away from me as he takes a step back, schooling his features into a more neutral expression. “I have, and I know what it would mean to me to have that person own it. To hear them say they’re sorry for hurting me even if they didn’t mean to.”
Emotion clogs my throat. My heart is breaking for Dominic, Mal, and all the people waiting on an apology that might never come. Except Mal’s apology is closer than she thinks, and even though I don’t agree with his tactics, Dominic’s logic is sound.