Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Before I can ask him more on the subject, he captures my mouth with his, kissing me with an intensity I’ve never felt before. My hands delve into his hair, and his hold on me tightens, like he’s afraid to let me go. This kiss feels different … deeper, darker. His mood has shifted, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
But before I can think too hard on it, Dominick ends the kiss and says, “Your turn.”
When I groan, he chuckles. “Oh, c’mon. I just dug deep into the pits of my soul for my answer. The least you can do is give me something … anything.”
“Fine.” I sigh. “I’m afraid of … spiders.”
Dominick glares, but I keep going. “Seriously! They’re hairy, and they have, like, a million legs. I once read that the average person swallows, like, four spiders in their sleep every year!” I mock shiver. “It’s a valid fear.”
“I’m about to show you a valid fear.”
Dominick grabs ahold of me and starts tickling my sides, making me scream.
“That doesn’t even make sense!” I screech while I try to get away from him.
“Oh, it will. I’m about to tickle you to the point where you fear peeing in your pants.”
“Stop!” I yell through my laughter, kicking and flailing about.
“Give me a real secret, and I’ll stop.”
“Fine, fine!”
He quits torturing me and raises a brow while I catch my breath.
“I’m afraid of the cycle repeating itself.”
“What cycle?”
“The cycle of abuse. I read—”
“In the same place you read about people swallowing spiders?”
“No.” I roll my eyes. “I read that daughters of mothers who were in abusive relationships are thirty percent more likely to end up in one as well.”
“You need to stop reading,” he deadpans.
“I’m serious,” I tell him. “My mom was in an abusive relationship for years before she found the courage to get out. And I’m scared I’m going to follow in her footsteps.”
“You won’t,” he says, reaching out and pulling me into his arms. “You’re too strong for that. And if any guy ever lays a hand on you, you come find me, and I’ll kill him myself.”
The seriousness in his tone causes goose bumps to prickle my skin, and I wonder if it really is possible that he killed Dale.
No, I tell myself. He’s just speaking metaphorically.
And then his words hit me. “… if any guy ever lays a hand on you, you come find me …”
Come find him. Because I won’t be with him. Because after tomorrow morning, whatever this is between us will be over.
The thought of never seeing Dominick again is sad, so I push it aside and focus on the now.
“You’re not killing anyone,” I scoff. “Now, enough of this deep shit. Let’s go swimming. I bet I can make it to the waterfalls before you.”
Without waiting for him to agree, I push out of his arms and take off toward the waterfall. Of course, Dominick quickly catches up and then passes me, making it to the waterfall a few seconds before me.
“I win,” he says once I arrive. “What’s my prize?”
“Me,” I tell him, swimming straight into his arms. “You win roughly eighteen more hours with me.”
“Now, that,” he says, pulling my face toward his, “is the best damn prize I’ve ever won.”
His mouth crashes over mine, and as we kiss, I say a prayer to the gods above that I don’t fall for this man. I’ve already had my heart broken once in the past year, and I don’t need to experience that again.
8
Dominick
I can’t remember the last time I spent the entire day sightseeing. Aside from the occasional texts with Matteo—him telling me he thinks he’s getting closer to finding Brielle and me letting him know the contract with Victor was a done deal—I didn’t handle any other business. My only focus was on the fiery redhead that I’d quickly become obsessed with.
After we visited the waterfall, I took her to see a few other sights that the concierge had confirmed were the perfect spots to show a woman I was trying to impress. The truth is, while I’ve been to the DR several times over the years, I’ve never taken the time to explore the island. My trips have always been business-oriented … until now.
Until her.
We came back to the hotel to take showers and get ready for dinner, but as I watch Peyton step out of the room in a tiny black dress, the only thing I want to do is stay in and rip that fucking dress off her.
“I hope this is okay,” she murmurs, running her hands down the front of her formfitting dress while eyeing the suit that I had brought over since this trip was unexpected.
“It’s more than okay,” I say, taking in her black fuck-me heels that I can imagine digging into my back as I fuck her on the terrace under the stars. “Let’s go before I change my mind and make you my meal instead.”