“You know what I was expecting.” I snap. “You’re confusing, and I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose as part of some f**ked-up game. You wanted me out here with you, and you even brought a sex toy onto the plane to make me squirm, but now that we’re here, in the privacy of your home, you don’t want anything to do with me. I’m in a separate room, you’re sitting across the veranda from me… I don’t understand you.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Again, he raises an eyebrow. “You’re upset because I’ve brought you out here and haven’t f**ked you yet? I don’t f**k just anyone, Jacey.”
His eyes are hard now, dark.
“Or are you upset because you don’t understand me? Because if that’s it, trust me, nobody does, so you’re not in the minority.”
I stare back at him, not sure what to address first. “Do you understand you? Do you even know what you’re doing?”
He shrugs, unconcerned. “Not really. I have no idea what I’m doing here with you, if you want me to be honest.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I tell him. “Amy told me some ugly things on the plane. She said that you’re a pervert who likes playing games. Is that true?”
Dominic’s green eyes darken. “What do you think?”
I shake my head. “No. Don’t throw this back on me. Is it true?”
He shrugs now, trying to seem unconcerned, but something tells me that he’s more bothered than he cares to admit. “It’s all relative, I suppose,” he says calmly. “Amy’s a bitch. I didn’t play f**ked-up games with her. She knew from the beginning what I wanted, and she only got pissed when I wouldn’t give her what she wanted. As far as being a pervert, I’m more perverted than some, less than others.”
I stare at him. “Is that why I’m here? Because you want to do kinky things to me?”
He shakes his head, his eyes darkening even more. “Jacey, I’ve wanted to do kinky things to you from the beginning, but that’s not the point. I want you here against my better judgment. But now that you’re here, I’m not sure what to do with you.”
That instantly annoys me. The way he said it was so condescending. I’m not sure what to do with you. Like I’m a thing. Or a toy. Something he has complete control over. “Oh, so you beckoned to me and I came?” I stand up, annoyed, throwing my napkin onto the large ottoman in front of me. “Fuck you. You don’t crook your finger at me and I come running. I’m here because I like you. Period. But you don’t get to play games with me, Dominic. After what I told you about the kinds of guys I’ve struggled with, it pisses me off that you would even try. It’s not fair.”
I stalk away past the shimmering pool, back through the glass doors of his house, but when I reach the doorway, he has caught up to me and he grabs my arm.
“Stay,” he urges me quietly. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to play games. I’m trying to be honest with you. It’s a new concept for me, and I’m probably f**king it up. But I do want you to stay.”
I look up at him, staring into his eyes, and I find sincerity there. He wasn’t trying to upset me or control me.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I shouldn’t have let Amy get under my skin.”
The planes of his face are angled, and the moonlight reflects off of them, and suddenly I just want to run my fingers along his cheekbone. I don’t know why.
But I do it anyway.
I trace the outline of his cheek, trailing my fingers along his jaw. I feel his jaw flex as he stares down at me, his eyes thoughtful.
“I don’t understand you,” I finally whisper.
“Neither do I,” he admits. “But does it matter? Do you still want to be here?”
I do. I shouldn’t want to, but I do.
I let him lead me back to the veranda, back to the cushioned chaises and ottomans, where he sits down next to me and watches me, thoughtful now. This is the first time I’ve seen this side of him… this introspective side. I tell him that, and he smiles.
“Would you believe me if I told you that I don’t hang around with people much?” he asks, picking up a cracker and smearing pâté on it before handing it to me. “I don’t like gatherings, unless it’s with my family. And now… well, with Cris dating Fiona, I won’t be going to many of them any time soon.”
I take the cracker and settle back into my seat, watching him as I eat.
He’s so graceful and sophisticated, even though he’s not much older than I am. I know those things, his statistics, because I looked them up online. He’s twenty-four. He’s 6’2”. He’s right-handed. Dark hair, green eyes. But those are just things, facts. I don’t know what he thinks.
“Why are you so upset about your sister dating Cris?” I ask hesitantly. “I know you don’t really want to talk about it, but I’d like to know. I hate seeing how much it bothers you. You love your family. It must be something huge to make you stay away from them.”
Dominic tenses now, his leg crossed tighter than it was, and he looks away, out over the valley.
“You’re right. I really don’t want to talk about it,” he finally answers slowly. “I’m sorry that you do, but I can’t. It’s something that happened a long time ago and I honestly just can’t talk about it.”
His face is filled with pain and vulnerability, a unique combination that I haven’t seen there before. I reach up and brush the hair away from his forehead.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. “You don’t have to. I just… it makes me sad to see you upset. I’d like to try and help you figure it out, if I can.”
“You can’t,” he answers sharply. But then he softens his tone and actually picks up my hand. It makes me want to hold my breath, because he’s made it obvious he doesn’t like intimate contact. Yet here he is, holding my hand.
“I’m sorry,” he adds. “It’s just… you need to know that if you’re going to be around me, there’s a bunch of shit about me that you can’t fix. So I don’t want you to try. Don’t get invested in me, all right?”
I suck in my breath at his acidic tone and stare at him as I unconsciously pull my hand away.
“All right,” I whisper limply, stunned by his bluntness. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help asking about your family, because it’s something that I’m curious about… it’s something that I can see hurts you. I like you. I like you more and more each day. And as your friend, I don’t like that anything hurts you.”
“Are you my friend?” he asks suddenly, turning toward me.
I can’t explain why, but the expression on his face hurts my heart. It’s open. For the first time since I’ve known him, his face is completely open to me. I know that he doesn’t do this often… he doesn’t show his vulnerability.
“Yes,” I answer slowly. “I’m your friend.”
He nods, and I honestly don’t know what’s going on here. “And you like me more and more each day?”
I nod in confusion.
What.
The.
Fuck?
I let the cold shower water run over my body, over my head and my shoulders, down my h*ps and down to where I really need it.
What the f**k was I thinking?