The power shifted almost the instant my lips landed on Dominic’s. I might have initiated the kiss, but he took control after just one second.

In the blink of an eye, I was on my back with Dominic’s weight pressing me into the cushions. His tongue forced its way into my mouth at the same time his hips forced their way between my thighs.

My mouth widened on a moan as the pressure of his massive erection slid across my center. The bolts of pleasure set me off and I lost it, fisting my fingers in his hair to pull him even closer.

That caused him to growl down my throat, his kiss going from passionate to damn near bruising. And I loved it. My panties were drenched beneath my leggings as he continued to rock against me as our tongues tangled with each other, fighting for dominance. Unsurprisingly, he won. He always won. And I didn’t hate that one bit.

He wrapped his fingers around my wrists and pinned my arms above my head with one of his big, strong hands as the free one slid down my side. I shivered when his fingertips skated over the side of my breast. I groaned when they continued down my thighs where the hem of my sweater hit and snuck underneath it. I whimpered into his mouth when they changed their direction and honed in on the sensitive naked skin, not stopping until he cupped my breast and scraped his callused thumb across my nipple.

My hips bucked against his as I sucked in a ragged inhale. My eyes nearly rolled back in my head as he pressed harder and circled his pelvis. Tendrils of heat began to coil low in my belly. Dominic’s lips disengaged from mine and began trailing openmouthed kisses down my neck and collarbone while his thumb stopped rubbing and met his forefinger to pinch instead.

I hooked my ankles together at the small of his back, holding him close as the heat coiling in my belly grew tighter and tighter.

“Dom,” I panted, throwing my head back against the cushions. “Oh God.”

“Am I under your skin yet?” he asked, his mouth a whisper from mine.

I couldn’t comprehend a single solitary thing. “Huh?”

“Are you wild for me?”

I was. I was going absolutely insane for him. But when I opened my eyes and looked into his, I didn’t think he was talking strictly about lust. It was the look he was giving me that made me freeze solid beneath him, and I remembered everything he’d said the night of Lola’s engagement party.

He seemed oblivious to the sudden change in my demeanor as he continued. “We do this, there’s no going back, baby. I told you I’d make you crave me until you forgot how to live without me, and I meant it. Because in ten years, I’ve never learned how to live without you.”

My eyes burned and my nose stung unexpectedly as an avalanche of emotions crashed over me, crushing my chest like a two-ton weight. “Dominic,” I started. “I…” had no clue what to say. I’d gone from turned on to the point of desperation to terrified faster than it would’ve taken to dump a bucket of ice water over my head.

He must have read my turmoil because his eyes squeezed shut and he turned his head to the side, his jaw clamped so tight the muscle twitched. “Shit,” he hissed, that one word filled with so much pain that the burn in my eyes got even worse. When he looked back at me, I wanted to burst into tears. “That’s okay, baby,” he whispered with such deep understanding it shattered me. “I can wait for you.”

He planted one last chaste kiss on my lips before sitting up. I felt so cold without him on top of me. He took my hand and helped me up, standing from the couch and taking me with him. “Thanks for dinner, baby,” he said, still in a low voice. “Worth every single penny. Would’ve shelled out millions for what you gave me tonight.”

God, this guy is killing me.

“I had a great time,” I told him, meaning every word. If this had been a few years ago—hell, even a few months ago, I’d have told you it wouldn’t have been possible for the two of us to be in the same room with each other, let alone share a meal and actually enjoy it without killing each other. But I’d have been wrong. Tonight was one of the best nights I’d had in damn near a decade. It shocked the hell out of me.

He smiled down at me sincerely as he kept hold of my hand and led me to the front door. When we reached it, he stopped and turned to me. “You go back to acting like I’m a leper tomorrow and I’m going to be pissed.”

I laughed, then gave him a mock glare. “Don’t push it,” I warned teasingly before going serious. “I had fun tonight, prior to the whole….” My cheeks heated in a furious blush as I waved my hand toward the couch. “You know.”

“Oh I know,” he said wickedly. “And personally, that was my favorite part of the evening.”

I’d enjoyed the hell out of it too. Needless to say, I was going to be giving my vibrator a rigorous workout. But… “That can’t happen again,” I told him, my tone relaying the seriousness of my statement. “It messes with my head, Dom. I can’t… I don’t….” I closed my eyes for a second and steeled my nerves. Saying what I had to say was so much harder than I’d expected. I spent so long despising him for hurting me and fantasizing about this very moment. However, in those fantasies, I was always ripping him to shreds with my words. It was shocking how, when the time actually came, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him. “I don’t trust you,” I said on a pained whisper. “I meant what I said about us being civil. And maybe, one day, we can even be friends. But that’s all I can give you.”

I reached up and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ears, waiting for his response. “I’ll take it.” I let out an audible breath of relief. Unfortunately he wasn’t finished. “For now.” Then he turned, opened my front door, and left with that parting shot.

Son of a bitch. The man was going to be the death of me.

I slowly started up the steps to the second floor and silently went about cleaning up what little mess remained from dinner, packing up the leftovers and scrubbing out the dishes by hand instead of piling them in the dishwasher. I needed something to keep my mind off the events that had just unfolded and thought the tedium of washing dishes would do that for me.

I was wrong.

Not only couldn’t I stop thinking about what had transpired on my couch, but I had called up everything that had happened that horrible night ten years ago.

I pictured everything with perfect clarity: how I’d spent what little money I had on a redeye flight from Seattle to New York so I could spend a long weekend with Dom and make up for the huge fight we’d had the day before, and the awful things I’d said; walking into his apartment, praying for a hot shower to wash away the airplane grime, only to come to a screeching halt as the sight of my boyfriend’s bare ass flexing as he pounded into the girl he had bent over the couch penetrated my brain.

Everything that came after was a blur. I grabbed her by the hair and threw her out of the apartment, buck-ass naked. I punched him in the nose. There was yelling, cursing, crying, more punching. It was a train wreck of epic proportions. I called him a cheater. He shouted that it wasn’t cheating since I broke up with him. The fact that I could smell the bourbon leeching from his pores didn’t help the situation. He was piss-ass drunk. It was surprising he’d even been able to get it up for the slut he’d brought home.

I pulled myself from the memories and looked down to find I’d scrubbed the casserole dish so hard I’d nearly taken off the nonstick coating. With a sigh, I rinsed the dishes and toweled them dry before heading to my wineglass sitting on the kitchen counter next to me. I downed the contents, went about locking up my house for the night, and climbed the stairs to the top floor.

After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I changed into one of the silky nightgowns I liked to sleep in and crawled into bed. Leaning toward my nightstand, I prepared to set the alarm on my cell and flip off my bedside lamp when I noticed I had three texts waiting for me.

Unknown number: Sleep well, baby.

I knew exactly who that was from. My lips tipped into a grin in spite of myself, and I quickly saved his number in my phone, ignoring the voice in my head telling me that I was letting him too close. Then I read the rest of the messages.

Dominic: Have naughty dreams about me.

Dominic: God knows I’ll be dreaming about you.

An intense pulsing sensation built between my thighs as I read. Damn, I was in so much trouble.

Me: Leave me alone, stalker. Trying to sleep.

His response came within seconds.

Dominic: What are you wearing? Please God, tell me it’s something sexy.

I knew I shouldn’t text back, I knew it. But common sense had taken a vacation.

Me: Bad Dom! Go to sleep.

Dominic: Send me a pic of yours and I’ll send you a pic of mine.

Oh shit. I was suddenly breathing heavily at the thought of a dick pic from Dominic Abbatelli. I knew it wasn’t what men liked to hear, but he had the prettiest dick I’d ever seen. I still remembered exactly what every inch looked like, felt like, and every man since him had come up short. I needed to put an end this conversation, and fast.

Me: Good night, Dom.

I closed out of my texts, set my alarm, dropped the phone on my nightstand, and turned out the light before collapsing back in my bed. I stared up at my ceiling for an eternity, searching for sleep, before finally caving to my body’s needs.

“Son of a bitch,” I growled to myself.

Then I rolled over, yanked open my bedside drawer, and pulled out my battery-operated boyfriend.

Two orgasms later, I still wasn’t satisfied.