Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chloe
A fter our walk in the garden, Nathaniel invited me to grab my laptop and join him in the downstairs office to work. That way, if I got anxious again, we could take another walk, or I could use him as a sounding board for my frustrations.
It turns out the silent, gruff Alpha is a giant softy, and I’m eager to wiggle my way past his shell to reach the marshmallow fluff inside. So, I agreed and left my cell phone in the desk drawer where it couldn’t torment me.
Now, I sit with my legs crisscrossed on the sofa, tackling the mountain of unread emails that have built up over the last three and a half weeks.
I hit delete, delete, delete , until one at the bottom of the screen catches my eye.
Follow Up on Trilogy Offer.
My pulse quickens, and I click it open with a shaky breath.
I skim the email and quickly become overwhelmed, the words blurring together - deadlines, advances, percentages. The publisher is eager, enthusiastic even. But everything has changed since I first signed on for three more books in The Fairy and the Dragonlord series.
I lean back into the cushions, fiddling with the string on my sweatshirt. When I first decided to finish the series, I was driven by desperation to pay off my mother’s debt so I could escape Louie. Now, though, I’ve discovered that the courtship was never valid in the first place, and I owe neither of them a thing.
On the other hand, I’ve begun to like the new arc I was plotting, and the idea of carrying the story a bit further into the main characters’s married life is appealing. If I choose to do this, it would be for me and no one else.
My attention drifts to the window, to the golden afternoon light filtering through the flannel curtains. While I resisted initially, I now long to dive back into that familiar world, to lose myself in the tangled web of my characters’ lives and loves. It would be a nice nest egg I could bring to the pack, too. A way not to be a burden.
After Nathaniel revealed the situation with their loan, I knew instantly that I needed to help. I can’t do it by picking up a hammer, so why not a pen?
I read through the offer again, chewing my strawberry lip gloss off my lips as I ponder.
Despite my reservations, these characters, this world, have been a part of me for a long time. I’ve poured my heart and soul into their creation. I’m not sure I’m ready to let them go or that I’ve finished their story yet.
I focus inward, trying to reconnect with the spark that first ignited this story within me. I remember the rush of excitement, the thrill of discovery as the plot unfolded in my mind. The way the characters came alive, whispering their secrets in my ear. They were my first friends after I left home.
Now, that spark reignites. It’s dimmer, softened by the years and my earlier goodbye to the characters, but it’s still there. Still burning.
I refocus on the contract. Grady always handled this side of the business. I bite my lip, a new worry surfacing.
What if I accept the offer and screw myself over because of some legal jargon?
“Troubled thoughts?” Nathaniel asks from where he works at the desk.
My head lifts to find him watching me with concern. “My publisher sent over a contract for me to consider. But I don’t know if I can handle the negotiation on my own. Are you any good with that kind of thing?”
“I do okay, but we always had a legal team to hammer out the finer details at my father’s company.” He leans back in the office chair. “If you want the best payout possible, though, you should speak to Dom. He does all of our negotiations with investors.”
Dismay fills me at the prospect of approaching Dominic, and I glance back down at the email. This isn’t something I should do alone, though, before speaking to someone who understands fine print.
“He’s up in the office above the garage,” Nathaniel offers. “I’m sure he’d love to help you out.”
If I want to be a member of the pack, I can’t avoid Dominic forever. I need to put on my big girl panties and face him. I can do this.
“Okay.” I close my computer and stand. “I’ll go talk to him. Thank you.”
“Just go through the door at the end of the family quarters,” Nathaniel calls after me. “Don’t bother to knock. Dominic doesn’t always hear it.”
With a wave, I leave Nathaniel and head for the stairs. As I pass the dining room, I hear Holden and Quinn in the kitchen, and it’s tempting to pop in to see what they’re up to. That will just delay the inevitable, though, and my publisher has already been waiting for almost a month.
Upstairs, I stop in front of the door to the garage office and take a deep breath to steady myself before entering.
The scent of work equipment and old leather fills the air, along with the citrus and musk of Dominic’s pheromones. My pulse quickens as I pause in the doorway, but the overflowing desk sits empty.
Frowning, I step farther into the open space and spot two long couches set up in an L-formation. They face two matching, sturdy chairs made of dark wood with a simple, functional design. Cracked, brown leather covers the set, softened and creased by years of use.
Dominic sits on the floor in the center, bent over a square coffee table with blueprints spread out before him. His black hair swings free from its usual braid, softening his features.
He pauses with his pencil over the paper, inhaling before his head lifts, and he straightens in surprise. “Chloe.”
I shift from foot to foot and hug my laptop. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I can come back another time.”
“No.” He raises a hand to beckon me over. “What can I do for you?”
I step around the couch and perch on the cushion nearest him. “Nathaniel said you’re good with contracts and negotiations. I was wondering if you could go over something my publisher sent over?”
“Of course.” He holds out his hand. “Let me see.”
As I pass him my laptop, his fingers brush mine and send a jolt of electricity through my body.
I pull back, tucking my hand under my thigh as he opens my computer and scans the document, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“A publishing contract.” Not seeming surprised, he glances up at me. “For your new trilogy.”
Throat dry, I rasp, “I want to make sure I’m getting a fair deal, and I don’t know the first thing about contracts.”
“Sure.” He props an elbow on the table as he leans closer to the screen. “Let me read through it.”
As Dominic reviews the contract, his brow furrowed in concentration, I lean over to examine the blueprints scattered across the coffee table. Intricate lines and measurements cover the papers, but my mind can’t decipher their meaning.
Instead, my attention wanders back to Dominic’s profile, his strong jawline, and the way his thick eyelashes cast shadows over his high cheekbones as he reads. It reminds me of how he always looked when we studied together in high school, how focused he got on things, until the rest of the world fell away.
I scoot back on the couch and fidget with the hem of my sweatshirt, the soft fabric suddenly too warm. Dominic’s unique pheromones fill my nose, and I inhale, the aroma stirring something low in my stomach.
He had the same level of concentration when we’d sneak off to be alone together. Though we never crossed the final line, we had spent hours exploring everything that led up to it, learning each other’s bodies until I knew his as well as, if not better than, I knew my own. Liquid heat pools between my thighs, yerning for the connection we once shared.
Lost in thought, I don’t realize I’m staring until Dominic’s eyes flick up from the contract, locking with mine. The intensity in his gray irises sends a shiver down my spine, and heat rises to my cheeks.
He inhales, his nostrils flaring, and I realize with embarrassment that he can smell the arousal brought on by my memories.
The moment stretches between us, electric and charged. My heart pounds, and I’m aware of every sensation. The soft cushion beneath me, the gentle whir of a fan, and the way Dominic commands my attention.
I part my lips, searching for something to say, but words fail me.
Once we hit puberty, lack of mutual attraction had never been an issue between us, which was what made us such an excellent match in the eyes of our families. It was always a tangible force that drew us together. But that was then, and we’re not those children anymore.
I should look away, break the spell, but I find myself trapped by his gaze, unable to move.
Dominic sets my laptop aside, his movements slow and deliberate. Turning in the spot he sits, he crawls over to me with fluid grace, like a panther stalking his prey. His heady scent envelops me, making my head spin.
He kneels before me, his hands coming to rest on my knees. The heat of his touch sears through the thin fabric of my sweatpants, and I can’t suppress the tremor that runs through my body. My breath catches in my throat as he gazes up at me, his pupils blown with desire.
“Tell me to stop.” His thumbs trace small circles on my thighs. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll go back to the contract and pretend I didn’t notice.”
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out past the racing of my heart. I should push him away, tell him this can’t happen, but the pull between us is too strong to resist.
Dominic rises higher on his knees, his hands sliding up my thighs. His focus shifts to my lips, and he leans in, his breath ghosting over my skin. Heat radiates off his body, tension coiled in his muscles.
At the last second, I turn my head away, denying him a kiss. We remain frozen, our chests heaving, the only sound the ragged rhythm of our breathing. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to regain some semblance of control.
“Chloe,” Dominic whispers, his voice hoarse with need. “Look at me.”
Unable to resist, I turn my head to meet his molten-silver gaze, the hunger there sending shivers of awareness through me. He lifts a hand to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip, and I can’t help but lean into his touch.
The Omega in me screams for him, craving his touch. The sweet, musky scent of his arousal fills my nose, turning my thoughts fuzzy and my body achy with need.
Giving me time to pull away, Dominic leans in and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. His warm lips are slightly chapped, and the roughness sends a jolt of electricity through my veins. When I don’t object, he trails his mouth lower, peppering feather-light kisses along my jawline before reaching my throat.
A whimper escapes me as he nuzzles my pulse point, his tongue darting out to taste my skin. Tilting my head back, I offer him a silent invitation to continue, my fingers tangling in his silky black hair to hold him close.
Dominic growls low in his chest, the sound vibrating through me, and my toes curl. His hands slide higher up my thighs, his fingers dipping between them to brush the damp fabric of my sweatpants. I gasp at the contact, my hips lifting into his touch.
“Fuck, Chloe.” His hot breath caresses my throat. “You’re so wet for me.”
My cheeks flush with heat, but I can’t deny the truth of his words. I’m soaked through, my body throbbing with a need only he can satisfy. As if reading my thoughts, Dominic’s fingers press harder, rubbing in slow circles that paint stars across my vision.
I let my legs fall open, inviting him to settle between them. He does so, his hips cradled between mine as he continues his sweet torture. Helpless to the pleasure, I rock my hips, seeking more friction.
But just as I’m about to beg him for more, Dominic pulls back, his eyes searching mine as he reaches for my waistband. Pulse racing, I lift my ass off the couch so he can drag my sweatpants off.
Then he tugs my hips to the edge of the cushion and kneels, burying his face between my thighs to lick at the proof of my desire. A moan rips from my throat as I reach for his hair, nearly clocking him with my cast. Frustrated, I let my wounded arm fall back, lifting my feet onto the couch’s edge to open myself to him.
He rumbles in approval, and the scent of musk intensifies.
He dips three fingers inside me, curling them in just the right way to send me spiraling toward the edge. I arch my back, my nails digging into the couch cushions as waves of pleasure wash over me.
“Look at me, Chloe,” he commands in a rumbling growl that vibrates through me.
Gasping for breath, I look down the length of my body to meet his stormy gaze.
He pushes his fingers inside me. “Say my name.”
“Dom,” I moan, my wits scattered by the delicious sensations coursing through my body.
“That’s right.” he purrs, and he lowers his mouth to suckle my swollen clit as he thrusts his fingers into me at the same time.
I shatter, my orgasm tearing through me like wildfire. My cries echo in the large office, our pheromones mingling together, joining, becoming one. Dominic slips his fingers from me, his eyes still locked with mine, and I can’t look away.
I don’t want to look away.
The bond inside me stretches toward him, demanding an answer, and panic takes hold. Oh, no, what did I just allow him to do?
With a pained cry, I shove him backward.
He crashes onto the area rug, limbs sprawling, and the proof of his unfulfilled desire strains the front of his pants. My stomach clenches, followed by the desire to climb on top of him, to take him into my body and see if all of my childhood fantasies live up to reality.
Frantically, I snatch up my sweats and rise, stumbling on shaky legs toward the door.
“Chloe?” He scrambles to his feet. “Please, don’t run away.”
Ignoring him, I flee from the room.