His accusation strikes a nerve, and I turn away.
I wonder if that’s what this visit is really about. Him punishing me for being cold. Professional to the point of robotic.
"What do you want from me, Dom?" All of a sudden I’m tired. I don’t want to keep fighting with him. "To admit I enjoyed sleeping with you? Fine. I did. To say I think about it? I do. Is that what you need to hear?"
“It’s a start because you’ve been fucking haunting me.”
I’d be a liar if I said hearing those words, the frustration behind them, didn’t make the woman in me feel good. But there’s no point in going down that path again.
"My career, my integrity?—"
"Your precious rules," he cuts in.
"Yes, my rules." I meet his eyes, letting him see my frustration. "They matter to me. They're what separate me from?—"
"From people like me?" His jaw tightens. "Is that what you were going to say?"
I don't answer, but my silence is confirmation enough.
"You know what I think?" Dom's voice softens. "I think you're scared. Not of losing your job or breaking rules. You're scared of admitting that maybe the line between us isn't as clear as you need it to be."
He’s not wrong. All these feelings I have around him terrify me. Everything I thought I knew about good and evil, right and wrong, might be more complicated.
"You don't know me,” I say, hating how defensive I sound.
"Don't I?" Dom looks at me in a way that feels like he can see into my soul. "Your pupils are dilated. You keep glancing at my mouth. And every time I move closer—" He takes another step toward me "—you hold your breath."
Damn him for being right. I exhale slowly, deliberately. "Don't flatter yourself."
His laugh is low, rumbling. “You can lie to yourself, but not to me.” His fingers brush my arm, sending sparks of electricity through me. "Tell me you don't think about that night. Tell me you don't remember how it felt when I?—"
"Stop." I close my eyes, needing to make this stop before I end up begging him to touch me again. "This isn't why you came here."
"Maybe it's exactly why I came. Maybe I'm tired of pretending I don't want you." His confession strips away my defenses.
"Dom...there is no future in this."
“Is that what you want? You’re looking for a picket fence, with 2.4 kids and a dog?”
“No.” Not that I don’t want to get married someday, I suppose. I’m too focused on my career right now.
“Then what’s the problem? Right now, we’re two people who are wildly attracted to each other. Why not enjoy that?”
“It’s more complicated than that.” The fact that he walked in demanding answers and is now seducing me is proof of that.
"Tell me to leave." His hand cups my cheek, thumb tracing my lower lip. "Tell me, and I'll go."
I should. God knows I should. But the words won't come.
Instead, I lean into his touch, my body betraying every professional boundary I’ve been trying to set.
"This is a mistake," I say, even as my hands reach for him.
"Probably." His smile is wicked, victorious. "But it's one worth making."
When our lips finally meet, it's like a match to gasoline.
Every rational thought evaporates in the heat of his mouth on mine.
