Chapter 26 #2
A strange flutter starts in my stomach, spreading lower as I read the two simple words. My pulse quickens, and I suddenly feel hyper-aware of every inch of my skin. Once I'm completely naked, I pick up my phone again, fingers trembling slightly.
Me: What, like picture proof?
Cindy: Yes
I change to my selfie camera and snap a photo of me standing in front of the steamy shower.
I look at it critically—you can tell I'm naked, but it doesn't show anything explicit.
The steam creates a natural filter, softening the edges of my silhouette, making my skin glow ethereally in the harsh bathroom lighting.
I study every detail, searching for flaws, for reasons he might be disappointed.
Once satisfied—or as satisfied as my self-critical brain can be—I send it.
Cindy: Are you naked right now?
Heat floods my body and I can almost hear his deep voice asking the question, low and commanding, sending shivers down my spine despite the steamy bathroom.
Me: No more texting. I have a rule about it.
Cindy: A rule about texting?
Me: A rule about texting while intoxicated.
Cindy: You can't tease me like this.
My lips curl into a smile, enjoying this unexpected playfulness from him. There's something intoxicating about having this effect on a man like Dom—so controlled, so powerful. It makes me feel powerful too, in a way I've never experienced before.
Me: Can't I?
Cindy: Don't make me put you over my lap and spank you.
Woah, that took a turn. My breath catches in my throat as I read his words again, imagining his large hand connecting with my bare ass.
The bathroom suddenly feels ten degrees hotter.
I've never been spanked before, but something about the idea of Dom spanking me raw sends tingles racing through my entire body, pooling between my legs in a warm, pulsing ache I can't ignore.
Me: I've never been spanked before.
Cindy: There are a lot of things I want to do to you.
The shower continues running, forgotten as I stand naked in the bathroom, completely entranced by this conversation. Steam swirls around me like ghostly fingers caressing my skin, but all I can feel is the phantom touch of Dom's hands.
Me: Like?
Cindy: I'll tell you if you send me another picture.
I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the screen.
This is dangerous territory—sending explicit photos to a man I barely know.
But it's Dom... and some reckless part of me wants to see just how far this will go.
The alcohol still buzzing through my system makes the decision seem easier than it should be, silencing the rational voice in my head that's screaming about consequences.
I position the phone again, angling it to capture more of my body this time.
I frame the shot down to my belly button, with one arm strategically covering one nipple while my other nipple is hard and exposed, pebbled from my own arousal.
The freckles scattered across my chest seem to stand out more prominently in the harsh light.
I study the image for a moment, my pulse pounding in my ears like a tribal drum.
It's more than I've ever shared with anyone while I'm not in disguise, but something about it being Dom makes me hit send without overthinking.
The moment the message delivers, panic floods through me like ice water in my veins.
What am I doing? That's Harper's dad. I'm standing naked in a hotel bathroom while my best friend is just outside the door, sexting her father.
I drop the phone on the counter like it's burning my hand and jump into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my body as if it could wash away my guilt.
But even as the water runs down my skin, tracing paths like invisible fingers, I can't stop thinking about Dom's hands on my body, about being bent over his lap, about all the things he wants to do to me.
And I can't stop wondering what he'll say when he sees that picture, if he'll want more, if he'll be thinking about me tonight the way I'm thinking about him.
The steam swirls around me in hypnotic patterns, adding to the heat building inside, a fire that only Dom seems able to ignite.
I stumble out of the shower, my limbs still trembling—not from the dancing anymore, but from the electric current of arousal Dom's texts have sent coursing through my body.
After hastily drying off with a scratchy hotel towel that catches against my damp skin, I perch on the edge of the bathtub, unable to resist checking my phone again, my fingers still pruney from the hot water.
Cindy: Fuck you’re beautiful
My heart flutters wildly in my chest, the simple compliment somehow hitting harder than any explicit message could.
There's something about the rawness of it, the honesty in those three words that makes my breath catch.
But then I read his next text, and my entire body ignites like a match thrown into gasoline.
Cindy: I want to tie you to my bed and have full control of your body, letting you come only when I tell you to, I want to spank that gorgeous ass of yours until it's bright red with my handprints all over it, I want you on your knees while I fuck your mouth relentlessly...
watching you take me so deep you can barely breathe...
I want to take every part of you - your pussy, your ass. I want to show you everything.
Holy fuck. My mouth goes dry instantly, like I've swallowed desert sand.
I read the message again, and then a third time, each word burning itself into my brain with searing clarity.
The images they conjure are so vivid I can almost feel them happening—me tied down, helpless against his mattress; the sharp sting of his hand connecting with my ass; on my knees looking up at him, surrendering completely; taking him in ways I only know from watching porn.
I press my thighs together tightly, trying to quell the insistent, pulsing ache between them.
Steam still hangs in the bathroom air, but it's nothing compared to the heat radiating from inside me.
This man, this sophisticated, powerful architect with his perfect suits and commanding presence, wants to do these filthy, forbidden things to me—ME.
Not just fuck me, but own me, mark me, claim me, show me everything I've been missing.
The thought is terrifying and thrilling in equal measure, making my heart hammer against my ribs like it's trying to escape.
A sharp knock on the door makes me nearly drop my phone, my body jerking in surprise.
"You almost done?" Harper's voice cuts through my Dom-induced trance, dragging me back to the uncomfortable reality of where I am and who I'm with.
"Yeah!" I call back, my voice embarrassingly high-pitched and breathy. I clear my throat, trying to sound normal. "Just getting dressed!"
"Okay," she replies, and I can hear the urgency in her tone. "My bladder's about to explode out here!"
With shaking fingers, I switch my phone to Do Not Disturb, my thumbnail catching on the screen protector.
No more messages tonight—I can't risk Harper seeing anything, can't bear the thought of her discovering what's happening between me and her father.
I scramble into my sleep clothes, a worn tank top and cotton shorts, my skin still damp in places from my rushed drying job, fabric clinging uncomfortably.
When I open the door, Harper practically shoves past me, her red hair a blur. "Damn, girl, you took forever! I need to pee so bad!" She makes a beeline for the toilet, not even bothering to close the bathroom door behind her, the familiarity of our friendship evident in her lack of modesty.
"Sorry," I mutter, pulling the door shut to give her privacy.
I tuck my phone deep into my purse, burying the evidence of my illicit conversation as if Harper might somehow sense what I've been doing, what I've been fantasizing about.
My fingers linger on the zipper, guilt twisting my stomach into knots that compete with the arousal still humming through me.
Crawling into bed, I pull the covers up to my chin despite the lingering heat in my body.
The hotel sheets are cool against my flushed skin, providing momentary relief.
My mind races with thoughts of everything Dom said he wanted to do to me, playing his words on repeat like my favorite song.
The raw intensity of his desires should terrify me—and part of me is terrified, quaking with the enormity of it all—but mostly I'm curious, eager, desperate to experience everything he described in vivid, filthy detail.
I definitely didn't ease into this sex thing with him.
I'm jumping straight into the deep end without knowing if I can even swim.
But something tells me Dom won't let me drown.
He'll take care of me—control me, guide me, show me everything, just like he promised in that text that's now etched into my memory.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to quiet my mind enough to sleep, but all I can see are his hands on my body, his long fingers exploring every inch of me, his dark eyes watching my reactions with that intense focus, his lips curving into that rare, genuine smile when he makes me come apart beneath him.
I've never wanted anyone like this before.
Never felt this desperate need clawing at me from inside, making me willing to risk everything—my friendship with Harper, my self-respect, my heart—just to feel his touch.
And I wonder if this is what people mean when they talk about chemistry—this feeling that you'd set your whole life on fire just to burn with someone for a little while.