Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I’m flattered he’s taking an interest in me, but I can’t stop the alarm bells from ringing in my head. If I get too close to this man, it’ll only hurt us both that much more when it’s time to betray him. And, clearly, that time is going to come sooner rather than later.
Izzy: A hobby, I suppose. But I’ve always loved music. We weren’t in a position to send me to music school or anything like that. What about you? Do you play any instruments?
Dominic Vale: I used to love listening to my mother play the piano. But I could never get the knack for it. She used to joke I had big, clumsy fingers.
Izzy: Maybe you should tell her how well you handled the violin earlier.
Dominic Vale:
I stare at his reaction, an unstoppable smile spreading across my face. It’s a tiny thing, a little laughing emoji sitting next to my message. But somehow, it seems significant.
Dominic Vale: I love music too. I love the thoughtlessness of it. There’s no need to think, just feel, and everything else—work, life, stress, whatever—it can wait until later. When I hear a good song, that’s it. I love things like that.
Izzy: Things that make you exist in the present moment, that eradicate the past and the future?
Dominic Vale: Exactly. But there’s not much, honestly. Work does it for me sometimes.
Izzy: Nothing else?
I know, somehow, he’s talking about the moment in the hall. The moment when it felt like it was just us, his large, powerful, soft hands gently clasping my necklace.
I wait for a few minutes, but there’s no reply. The message doesn’t say read, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t seen it. He could’ve seen the notification then decided not to open it.
Fine. Whatever. I’m not supposed to care, anyway.
I toss and turn in bed. The sheets tangled around me. I wake a few times, caught between dreaming and wakefulness. Each time, it’s like Dom is in bed with me, squeezing me tightly to him, his firm body making me tingle all over.
CHAPTER 6
DOMINIC
Hot water drips down my body, running between my pecs and over my abs, the heat making me think of Izzy. But that’s not saying much. Lately, everything makes me think of her. Perhaps this is what having a crush feels like. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had time for this.
Now, it’s like I have no choice.
I close my eyes, letting the water slide down my body. I left mid-conversation last night. I knew I should’ve responded, but it was too tempting to tell her she’s the person who makes me want to live in the here-and-now, to pretend nothing and no one else exists.
Just thinking of her makes the rest of the world a little less deafening. Imagining her in this shower with me, wearing those tight pants and a white shirt, pressing herself against me. You need to take those clothes off. Now.
Yes, sir…
I peel off the soaked white fabric, revealing inch after curvy inch of her perfect body. I press myself against her, letting her feel how hard she makes me. My cock is solid now, water clinging to my tip along with the precome.
The fantasy suddenly shifts. Now we’re in the office, and she’s looking at me over her shoulder, her wild hair loose as she bends over the desk. “I know you’ve been staring at my ass. Do you want to see it bounce, sir? Do you want me to grind on that rock-hard cock?”
I force my eyes open, my chest heaving. In a fucked-up way, it’s good that the fantasy dragged me into the office. My mind has reminded me that this is wrong. I need to stop. She’s my employee. She’s a young woman with responsibilities who wants to work, earn her way, not be possessed.
But, fuck, I’d love to own her…
I wipe steam from the mirror and stare at myself, my eyes wild, a small smile on my lips. I look alive, vital, in a way I can’t ever remember. It’s like there’s something new and exciting bursting up inside of me. I’m not old, but sometimes, I feel weary enough that I might as well be. Not anymore. Not with Izzy.
“Get your shit together,” I grunt, turning away.
Over the next couple of days, I focus on my work with a vengeance. Every time I’m in the corporate office, I feel the pull toward the pit. She’s a looming presence unlike any I’ve ever felt. I don’t think of myself as a dramatic man, but hell, this is getting out of hand.
Jennifer texts me a photo of Liam with an ice cream, giving the camera a thumbs-up. As usual, I’m struck with a mixture of pride and sadness looking at the kid’s bright ice-cream-covered smile.
The weekend hits, but I’m in the office anyway. Izzy isn’t, though, meaning I get two days of work without fighting the constant urge to go into the pit and see her. The whole time, my father is sneering in my head. Judging me. Warning me that this is all going to blow up in my face.