17. Elena #2
I know it immediately, and the certainty terrifies me. I want the dinners and the laughter and his hand around my ankle. I want him in my bed and my kitchen. I want every appointment and the child we are trying to create. I want the future I keep insisting we are not building.
Dominic waits for me to say it.
The word yes is right there, a single syllable that could change everything. Fear closes my throat around it. “I don’t know.”
Pain flickers across his face before he contains it.
He doesn’t withdraw his promises or make me pay for offering less. He only nods. “Okay.”
He reaches for the remote as though he intends to unmute the television and let me escape into someone else’s life. He is giving me what I asked for, even when I want him to refuse.
I move before he can pull away.
I slide across the couch and lean into him, resting my forehead against his shoulder. He holds himself rigid for half a breath before his arms close around me.
He doesn’t ask me to explain. He simply holds me.
My face presses into the warm skin above his collar, and I breathe him in. His hand moves slowly along my back, never urging me closer or turning comfort into seduction.
I almost wish he would. Sex gives me somewhere familiar to hide.
Desire is familiar territory now. We know how to use it to avoid conversations like the one we just had. I know how to surrender my body while keeping the most vulnerable parts of me locked away.
Dominic has stopped accepting only the pieces I can give without fear.
My hand fists in the fabric of his shirt. “Please don’t leave,” I whisper.
His arm tightens around me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The promise reaches the part of me that still expects people to leave, and I lift my head.
Dominic’s expression is open in a way I rarely see. Hurt fills his eyes. He shows no anger and makes no calculation about how to force me to take back the answer I gave him.
I touch his face. His eyes close briefly as my fingers follow the hard line of his jaw.
“Elena.”
I kiss him before he can say anything else.
His mouth moves carefully against mine. His restraint is so complete it hurts. He lets me control the kiss, lets me deepen it and climb into his lap until my knees settle on either side of his hips.
His hands stay at my waist.
“Tell me why you asked me here,” he says against my lips.
Every lie, every deflection I’ve ever used crowds my mind. I push them all away to find the one simple truth. “You.”
“You have me.”
I shake my head. “I need more than this.”
His eyes search mine. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
One hand slides up my back, threading into my hair. “Then stay with me.”
“I’m right here.”
“You know what I mean.”
I do. He wants me without the performance, without sex becoming another controlled surrender where obedience feels safer than honesty.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Dominic stands with me in his arms. I tighten my legs around his waist as he carries me down the hall, my mouth moving over his jaw and throat. He turns his head to catch my lips again, walking through my condo as though he has memorized every step to my bedroom.
Maybe he has.
He lowers me beside the bed and reaches for the hem of my sweatshirt. His gaze stays on mine as he pulls it over my head. My bra follows, then my leggings and panties, each piece removed slowly enough that I feel every second of his attention.
I reach for his belt.
Dominic catches my wrist.
“What?”
“You’re trying to hurry.”
“I’m naked. You’re wearing a suit. The imbalance feels significant.”
His mouth curves. “You’re deflecting.”
“I’m practical.”
“You’re scared.”
The word lands with enough force to make my breath catch. The smile leaves my face.
He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses the center of my palm.
“So am I,” he says.
I stare at him. “You don’t look scared.”
“I’ve had more practice hiding it.”
“Of me?”
“Of how much I want from you.”
He places my hand on his chest. His heart pounds beneath my palm, a frantic, unsteady rhythm that is nothing like his usual composure. It’s a confession without words.
Dominic Rowe is afraid.
His fear matters. I’m not the only one risking something tonight.
I unbutton his shirt while he watches me. He lets me push it from his shoulders, then opens his belt and removes the rest himself. When he stands naked in front of me, my gaze moves over the body I know so well and still haven’t learned how to look at without wanting.
He cups the back of my neck and kisses me again.
The kiss deepens as he lowers us onto the mattress. He turns onto his side, bringing me with him until we’re facing each other.
One arm slides beneath my neck. His other hand rests at my waist, warm and steady, without trying to direct me.
“Stay with me,” he says.
“I’m here.”
“All of you.”
The words expose me and somehow make it easier to breathe. I touch his face and kiss him again, slower this time.
His hand moves over my ribs, cups my breast, then follows the line of my waist. Every touch is unhurried, giving me time to feel it and stay present.
I slide my palm down his chest and stomach. His muscles tighten beneath my fingers.
“You’re still scared,” I whisper.
“Yes.” His forehead rests against mine. “I’m still here too.”
Hearing him admit it makes my own fear feel less like a failure.
I hook one leg over his hip and pull him closer. His cock presses against the inside of my thigh, hot and hard.
Dominic’s eyes search mine. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He kisses me while his hand moves between us. His fingers slide through my wetness once, then close around his cock and guide him to my entrance.
“Still with me?”
I hold his gaze. “Yes.”
He pushes inside slowly.
My breath catches at the stretch. Dominic stops until my body relaxes around him, his mouth brushing mine without taking the kiss any deeper.
“Don’t stop.”
He sinks the rest of the way in.
For a moment, neither of us moves. We stay curled around each other, joined and close enough that every breath crosses the small space between our mouths.
“Still okay?”
I tighten my leg around his hip. “Very.”
Dominic draws back and slides into me again, slow enough that I feel every inch.
The angle keeps us pressed together, my leg over his hip and his arm beneath my neck. Nothing blocks my view of his face.
I move with him, learning the rhythm.
His eyes never leave mine.
With nothing between us but breath and skin, I have nowhere to hide.
Fear presses at the edge of the moment. I pull him closer anyway.
He rolls his hips and begins the next slow stroke.
“This is what you do to me,” he says.
I tighten around him. “What?”
“Make me forget every reasonable decision I’ve ever made.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
He rolls his hips, and pleasure curls low in my stomach again.
“I went to that bar because of you.”
My fingers tense against his shoulders.
“I knew.”
“No, you didn’t.” His next thrust is deeper. “You thought I happened to be there. I went because you were there, and the thought of you leaving with someone else was making me fucking crazy.”
“Dominic.”
“I’ve moved meetings because it gave me another hour with you. Rearranged entire days around your schedule. Walked into rooms and looked for you before I noticed anyone else.” His mouth brushes mine. “I’ve been doing it for years.”
Each confession presses harder against the answer I refused to give him.
“All those years, I told myself it was because you’re the best person in the room,” he says. “Then I started finding reasons to be in rooms where I didn’t need you at all.”
My voice is barely a whisper. “You never said anything.”
“You worked for me. You’re Cliff’s little sister. I was trying to be a decent man.”
His pace remains slow, each stroke pushing me closer while keeping me painfully present.
“What changed?” I ask.
“You gave me a contract that planned our entire future but had no room in it for us.”
My throat closes, and I have to swallow before I can speak.
“I signed because I wanted whatever you would give me.” He kisses me, soft and lingering. “I’m asking for more now because pretending this is enough would be a lie.”
The confession is too much, too raw. My gaze drops to the space between us, and my body goes still around him.
Dominic stops moving. His hand comes to my cheek, but he waits until I look at him again.
“Stay with me.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know.” His mouth brushes mine. “You’re so damn brave when you let me see you afraid.”
“I don’t feel brave.”