Chapter Thirteen – Chloe

Hindsight really was a bitch.

But it had nothing on the here and now.

“You don’t get to come into my house, into my space, and demand that I be nice to you.” I jabbed my finger at him. “You come in here and you be fucking nice to me, damn it.”

“You wanted me to be honest, so I’m being fucking honest.”

His eyes.

They were so bright.

So alive.

“Good for you. Have a gold star. My God, Dom, this isn’t how it works. We’ve hated each other for years. You want me to suddenly accept that you want me?”

“Hated each other my left ball!” he yelled. “Fuck me, Chloe, do you believe that? Do you believe that I hate you? That I hate the person who’s been my sister’s best friend since she was five? That I hate the person I’ve seen almost every day since then? Do you really fucking think I hate you?”

“You act like it.”

“And you act like you hate me, but I don’t believe you.” He stepped toward me. “If you hated me, you’d have kicked me out by now. You wouldn’t even be thinking about listening to me. Trust me—you don’t listen to me any other time, so the only reason you are right now is because you want to.”

“No.” I stared at him. “I’m listening to you because you keep saying you want me, but I’m wondering when you’re going to prove it.”

He stilled, tilting his head a little. “What?”

I threw my arms out, my stomach twisting into knots. “You’re standing in front of me telling me how you want me, yet that’s all you’re doing. And you wonder why I don’t believe you?”

“What are you saying?”

“Kiss me, idiot!”

Dom’s lips parted, and his brows drew together into a frown. “What?”

“I can’t make it much simpler. If you want me as much as you say you do, then kiss me, you goddamn idiot!”

Time stood still as he stayed where he was, staring at me. My skin prickled in anticipation.

Was he all talk?

Would he do it?

I knew I’d let him. Even if it never happened again, I needed the validation of a second kiss. To make sure I wasn’t glorifying how amazing it was the first time around.

To make sure that my memory of the first one was real and not something I’d accidentally cooked up when I should have been working.

“Well?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “Are you gonna? Either kiss me or get the hell out of my house.”

He stalked toward me, expression unreadable, muscles visibly tensed. The veins in his forearms stood out, snaking down the insides of his arms, and one fist was clenched tight if the whiteness of his knuckles was anything to go by.

“Fine. Don’t. Then you can leave. I’m not going to stand here and be confused by you. If I want to be confused, I’ll reminisce about high school!” I snapped.

“I’m not hesitating because I don’t want to,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m hesitating because I want you so much that if I kiss you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“Did I say I wanted you to?”

“Don’t fuck with me right now, Chlo.”

“Then get the hell out, because you’re fucking with me. Either kiss me or don’t. But if you walk out now and don’t kiss me, you’ll never get another chance; I promise you that.”

As if those words flicked a switch inside him, he reached out, clenched fist slowly moving toward my face. His hand unfurled, the backs of his fingers stroking lightly across my cheek. His eyes followed the slow movement of his hand, and only when the tips of his fingers ghosted along the curve of my jaw, making me shiver, did he lift his gaze to meet mine once again.

This wasn’t heated.

This look, this connection, didn’t feel as though we’d just been screaming at each other. It felt real, like there really was something hiding beneath the anger and frustration we exercised on a daily basis.

This wasn’t how I’d ever planned it to be, but I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t clear the lump in my throat or stop the goosebumps that tickled across my skin as I waited.

For what?

For anything.

For him to move. To touch me again. To say something. To do something.

It felt like…

It felt like he meant it. Like this stupidly long moment where neither of us could move or speak felt like the validation I wanted.

That he wanted me.

It was the confirmation that he wasn’t lying. That he meant it when he said that if he kissed me right now, he was afraid he couldn’t stop. That I meant it; that I didn’t want him to stop.

If that was what it took, if losing myself to him one time meant that I got to feel his lips on mine one more time, I’d do it.

I’d do it a thousand times, over and over, pressing rewind each and every single time.

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to run my fingertips over the dark stubble that lined his jaw and chin, the very same stubble that made every curve of his lips ten times sexier than it ever had any right to be.

I wanted to close my eyes and breathe him in. Slide my fingers through his hair. Grab his t-shirt. Tear it off. Ease my hands over his body.

I wanted him.

And knowing he wanted me?

It made me do stupid things. Made me want to do stupid things.

His hand, now cupping my jaw, was hot. His fingers burned my skin, and his palm emanated warmth that I felt everywhere. I covered his hand with mine, gingerly moving to link my fingers through his.

Dom dropped his eyes to our hands for a brief second, but they met mine again when I touched my other hand to the side of his face. His stubble was short and rough, scratching against my palm in a way that was almost weirdly satisfying.

If I were a cat, I’d spend all day rubbing my palm against his jaw.

And that was the weirdest part.

“Chlo…”

I cut him off with a shake of my head. I didn’t want him to speak. I wanted him to act. I wanted to know that he wanted me. I wanted to feel it deep down inside my bones. I wanted to know, unconditionally and irrevocably, that he wasn’t here bullshitting me into next week.

So, I leaned forward, closing my eyes, and kissed him.

He didn’t hesitate. His hands snaked around my body, pulling me close to him, and he kissed me back.

It was hot and heavy, deep and desperate. His tongue found mine within seconds, and I held nothing back. I wrapped my arms tight around his neck and pressed my body completely against his.

It was hard and hot, a lot like the grip he had on me. Tingles ran across my skin, causing all the hairs on my arms to stand on end, and I gasped into his mouth. I’d wanted him to kiss me, but I didn’t think he’d kiss me like this.

I thought it’d be slow and tender, his lips testing mine to see how far he could go.

But this?

This was everything but. I clenched my legs together as I felt his cock harden inside his pants. It pressed against me, practically screaming out with how he wanted me.

I felt the same. My clit ached between my legs, and right now, I wished he’d let me go so I could climb him like a koala climbed a damn tree.

Dom pulled back. I peered up at him through my lashes. His eyes were dark and hooded, his jaw tight, as if he were conflicted, like he was trying to figure out how to make sense of what was happening.

“Did you mean it?” he asked, slowly bringing his eyes to mine. “If I walk out, I’ll never have another chance?”

I swallowed. I did—I mean, I had meant it. But now he’d kissed me like that, did I still?

“What if I do mean it?” I asked softly. “I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to make your choice. You either want me now, or you don’t want me at all.”

“Chlo…” He took a deep breath, lowering his forehead to mine. “I’m not leaving. Whether you mean it or not. I don’t think I can leave.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not leaving here until I know what it’s like to have you be mine.”

I didn’t have a chance to say anything. He dipped his face so his lips sealed over mine, rendering my words useless. All I wanted was him. His kiss, his touch, his everything.

I surrendered myself to him, completely. I didn’t care. I could barely think straight, but I knew I wanted this. Whatever it took to be his for one night, I wanted it. I’d do it.

Because I wanted it, too. I wanted to be his. I wanted him to be mine. And if this was it ever was, I’d take it.

I was a fool. I knew that. There was no doubting it, no circling around it. It was sprayed on the side of my house and branded into my forehead.

But fools loved. And when they loved, they loved fully, with all the pureness in their hearts.

So, maybe there were worse things than being a fool in love.

I wound my fingers into Dom’s hair. It was soft and silky and just begged to be run through my fingers.

“Be mine,” Dom whispered against my lips, cupping the back of my head. “Be mine right now.”

“Don’t you think we’ll regret this tomorrow?” I whispered.

“No, I won’t. I can’t regret you.” He kissed me again without giving me a chance to answer.

I didn’t have an answer.

I couldn’t regret him either.

He pulled away once more and grabbed my hand. I followed willingly as he dragged me to the stairs and up them. He paused in the hall, looking left and right.

Grinning, I slipped past him, still holding his hand, and pulled him toward my room. No sooner had I stepped through the door than he yanked me toward him, kissed me, and dove his fingers into my hair.

Together, we staggered back toward the bed, falling when my legs hit the side of the bed. I squealed as we went down, and Dom laughed against my mouth, dipping his head as he used his hands to stop himself falling entirely on top of me.

“Don’t laugh at me,” I murmured, meeting his eyes.

“I’m not laughing,” he said in a voice just as low and soft as mine right before he dropped his lips to mine.

My arms curled around his neck, and my knees bent to wrap my legs around his waist. Our bodies couldn’t have been any closer in this moment, and goosebumps dotted my skin, from the base of my neck to the tips of my fingers. A shiver jolted down my spine, making me tremble beneath him.

My heart was thumping. I couldn’t hear a damn thing because my pulse thundered so harshly in my ears. All I could do was feel—feel as Dom’s lips made their way over my jaw to my neck. As he kissed my skin, the pure pleasure of it making me shiver once again.

One of his hands dropped to my thigh, creeping up my leg beneath the loose fabric of the old shirt I was wearing. His fingers probed my skin as he kissed my neck. I never wanted him to stop, but my own hands had other ideas.

I grasped at the top of his t-shirt, yanking the fabric up so he could pull it over his head. He pushed up, kneeling on the edge of the bed, and tugged it over his head. I was no stranger to the sight of Dominic Austin without a shirt on, but this time, it was different.

This time, I didn’t just have to look at the tight packs of muscle on his stomach or the taut muscles on his upper arms. I could touch him—I could grab his arms and run my fingers over his stomach.

Which was what I did. I trailed my fingers over his shoulders, then his chest, then his stomach. My touch faded away the closer I got to his waistband, and he shuddered as I got close to the light ‘v’ that dipped beneath his jeans.

Snatching my wrists up, he pressed them to the bed above my head. He dropped down, kissing me again, his hot body hovering over mine. Red-hot bolts of lust pumped through my body as his mouth danced across my skin, exploring the curve of my neck with his lips.

His hands worked my old shirt up my body higher and higher until it was bunched under my arms. I lifted my shoulders, so he could pull it over and remove it. He tossed it to the side, immediately returning his attention back to me. I was naked except for my panties, and he took full advantage of that.

His hands explored my body, from my hips to my breasts and back down again. His tongue traced a similar path, toying with the curve of my collarbone until he made his way over my chest to my nipple. I gasped as his mouth covered it and his tongue flicked.

A shiver rocketed down my spine, and I squirmed beneath him. My clit ached, and goddamn it, I’d waited too long for this. I didn’t want to wait any longer. I wanted him to get up and get on with it before I went stir crazy with need.

He moved further and further down my body until his head was right between my legs. He dropped kisses to my lower stomach and the inside of my thighs. Tingles covered my skin as his hot mouth slid over my hip, coming closer and closer to the waistband of my last remaining piece of clothing.

Down.

He pulled down my panties, fingers hooked in the waistband. He lifted my legs as he removed them and tossed them to the side. I wriggled as his hands stroked the insides of my legs, parting them.

Kisses to the side of my thighs really had me wiggling. My heart was going crazy, and goddamn it, I could barely breathe as he moved closer and closer to my clit.

Then, he was there. Licking and sucking and toying with it. His hands clamped around my legs, holding me down, holding my hips in place against him as his tongue brought me closer and closer to the edge.

I came with a cry, and Dom’s fingers dug into my thigh as he drew it out for as long as possible. My hips writhed beneath his touch, but he didn’t let up until I’d stilled beneath him.

I threw my arm over my eyes when he moved. I could barely control my breathing as he moved away from me. My whole body was on fire, completely alive, and the next thing I knew, his hands were on my legs again, and he was leaning over me, kissing me.

I wrapped my arm around his neck, kissing him back. His other arm was between our bodies, and I arched my hips up, so he could move inside me.

He did, slow and easy, inch by inch, until he was fully inside. A tiny gasp escaped against his lips, and he smiled, dragging his teeth over my lower lip.

Slowly, he moved, thrusting in and out until I wrapped my legs around his body. As if he took that as his queue, he picked up the pace, moving in and out of me faster.

My nails dug into his skin as heat washed through my body once again. I was borderline delirious—pleasure pumped through my veins as we kissed, and he moved, and I grabbed at his skin. Over and over, I moaned into his mouth. He groaned a few times, too, and all that sound did was send shivers over my skin.

It felt so good. Too good. Too overwhelming and insane and unreal. I arched my back, and Dom pressed his face into my neck, kissing me.

I gripped and gripped and gripped, and then—it happened.

The orgasm washed through me like a bomb exploding. I might have screamed his name. I wasn’t sure. I was barely coherent as it hit. I couldn’t think or breathe or speak, or maybe I could, because who the hell knew what I could or couldn’t do?

Not me.

I came back down to Earth, Dom still inside me, unmoving. His breath was hot as it fluttered against my skin with his labored exhales. His hand gently trailed up and down my side, an easy touch that felt oh-so-good.

Still, the post-orgasmic haze, I had one question.

What did we do now?