Chapter Twenty-Four
Dominic
When did I turn into a taxi service? First, I had to take Levi to the football field. Now, I must drive back and pick Xavier up for the game. It’s like everyone’s vehicles have gone on the fritz at the same time.
As I drive past Mrs. Thompson’s house, she sets down her watering can and waves. Both her wave and her grin are over the top. Fuck. This isn’t good. I respond but with less enthusiasm. I like our neighborhood, but the small-town vibe can be a bit much sometimes. It didn’t matter what we did as kids, our parents knew before we got home, and it’s no different now.
I glance back at Mrs. Thompson as I drive past. It's as if the entire town knows I had sex with Bella last night. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and smashes it to her ear while watching my vehicle.
If everyone knows, how exactly are we going to live this down? It’s not like Bella wanted our business broadcast all over town. We should’ve stayed in Kansas City. Better yet, we shouldn’t have done it in the first place.
Damn it. I groan in frustration and flip the blinker as everything comes rushing back, and every nerve in my body is on full alert, screaming for a repeat.
Her car is still parked outside of our house. She’s still here. Shit. My heart hammers in my chest as the blood rushes to my head. Thump. Thump. Thump. My hands shake as I place my pickup into park, giving her access to leave. I’ve already boxed her into this mess. The least I can do is give her a path to get away from me.
After shutting the door, I climb the steps and walk into the living room. She needs to know that half the town somehow knows we were together, and we need to make a gameplan plan to survive the fallout.
Xavier pops his head out of the kitchen. “Hey, Dom, can you grab my Carhartt pullover sweatshirt? The one I let you borrow last year. I need it back.”
What in the fuck? The dude hasn’t missed it in twelve months. Why now? More importantly, where’s Bella?
I glance around the first floor but don’t sense her presence. Maybe she rode to the game with Sam or Ben. That makes sense. I rotate my neck to ease the building tension. The thought of telling her in front of a crowd is as unappealing as knowing her brothers are going to beat the shit out of me when they hear the news.
“Can you get it?”
“Sure.” I jog up the stairs with my feet pounding on the steps. Before I make it to the landing, Xavier blasts the stereo to one of the stations we listen to when we’re having a party. What in the fuck is he doing? He’s acting as strangely as everyone else.
I slip out my key and twist the lock, causing the locking mechanism to click into place. It was open. Why was it open? The last thing I need is for someone to get into my closet. I re-unlock the door and twist the knob.
Bella stands in front of the portrait I did of her last night. Oh fuck. The one where she’s naked on the sofa with me knelt between her legs. Feasting on her sex like I’m a starving man. Or at least this is what I saw in my mind because the room was too dark to fully appreciate her.
Bile rises in my throat. Run. Turn around. Walk out the door. And never come back.
She continues to stand motionless with her back to me. Her hair is piled high on her head. A pair of tiny white shorts showcases her long tan legs and shows off way too much of her skin. Lined up in front of her are some of the other paintings I’ve done over the years.
Jesus. She’s going to get a restraining order. This makes me look like the guy from You . This is bad. My head spins as I hold my breath. This is so bad.
Man up and get it over with.
I clear my throat. “Um… I can…” I cough. “Well, I can’t really explain, and…” I grasp the doorknob. Moving is my only option. “I–”
“Stop!” She spins to face me with eyes that flash in anger. “Keep the door shut and lock it.” She flings her hand toward the door. “Do. Not. Move. One. Inch.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Agreeing may be the only way I don’t get a broken face. I lock the door as she waves her hand around the room.
“What’s all this?”
I inhale and roll my shoulders. “I think that’s pretty obvious. They’re drawings of you.”
“That you’ve done?”
I lick my lips and bite on the bottom one before saying, “Yes. I drew them. And painted some of them.”
She walks toward me while eyeing me warily. “Why?”
“Because your bone structure makes you a good muse.”
Her eyes narrow into little slits. Wrong answer.
“Because you’re beautiful. Because you’ve been lodged in my head for years, and I can’t get you out of it.” The corners of her mouth twitch as her eyes drink in every inch of me, leaving the hairs on my arms standing at attention. “It’s the only way I could make you real, so I could touch you. And look at you as long as I wanted, and no one could tell me that I couldn’t.”
“I don’t know what to say.” She walks toward me but stops before we’re close enough to touch. The fact she hasn’t punched me in the nose or called the police gives me hope.
“You don’t have to say anything. I shouldn’t have done it.”
She gnaws on her bottom lip and inhales. “If I say they’re beautiful. I’m conceited.” She shrugs. “If I say I’m honored. It’s not enough. I–” Her eyes meet mine, and the fear and unease in them drives me over the edge. “You’re an amazing artist.”
I cradle her face in my hands, tracing her cheekbones. The flare of awareness in her eyes. The soft parting of her lips. The sharp rise of her chest. The faint flaring of her nostrils as she inhales my scent. All of it gives me the strength to say what I should’ve said last night. Last year. Three years ago.
“Last night wasn’t a mistake. At least, not for me. I’ve wanted you for years. I’ve fantasized about touching you. Pleasing you. Worshiping you. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember.”
Her hands rest on my chest, one hand laying on my heart. “I had no idea you felt that way.”
“I didn’t want you to because your family is perfect and mine is a mess. Because your brothers won’t approve. Because your parents will want you to marry a guy who has great prospects. A banker. Or a lawyer. Not a tattoo artist. Because–”
“Shut up.” She laces her hands around my neck and pulls me closer. “I’d rather you touched me than say stupid things that insult you.”
“Bella….” I drop my hands to her waist, running them over her back as desperation claws in my chest. I want everything with her, but I’m waiting for it to be pulled away from me.
“You’re all I ever think about and never thought I could have.” Her bottom lip trembles, causing my gut to twist. Seeing her hurt and realizing it was because of me kills me.
“I’m sorry.” I drop my forehead to hers.
“Don’t be sorry.” Her nails scrape down my neck, sending a chill along my spine. She smiles as she arches against me while straddling my thigh. “Make it up to me. Because there’s nothing I’d rather do than live up to the woman you see when you paint me. Last night was not a mistake. I wanted to make love to you more than anything in the world. But I didn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want.”
My legs go weak as happiness swells up inside of me. “Oh, I definitely want to be pushed into something.”
Her eyes dance as she laughs. “Consider yourself pushed.” She stands on her tiptoes, but before she can get to my lips, mine are on hers. And I don’t care what stands between us. I want this woman in my life and in my bed because she’s already in my heart.