“Well, forgive me for caring about your love life,” my mother continues, ignoring the tension in my voice. “I didn’t even realize you were dating again. Especially with the fit you threw at dinner the other night.”
“Going on a date doesn’t mean I can’t be upset about you minimizing my grief over the death of my husband.”
She scoffs. “Sloane, please stop weaponizing your therapy phrases to make me the villain. My comment about your behavior at Eric’s funeral was simply my opinion. I can hardly see how that’s relevant to our conversation about your date with Ash.”
“We’re not having a conversation, Mom. You’re asking inappropriate questions and giving me advice I didn’t ask for.”
My phone buzzes in my hand. I pull it away from my ear to see a text from Dominic lighting up my screen, and my heart cuts a flip in my chest.
Dominic:Be there in 15.
“Sloane Elise! I don’t know when you got to be so rude and unappreciative of me, but I am not going to tolerate it anymore. Please call me when you remember how to be the respectful young lady I raised you to be.”
Now it’s my turn to scoff. The closest this woman has gotten to raising me was raising her hand to sign the check for the revolving door of nannies she kept on staff so she didn’t have to bother caring for me. Still, there’s a note of pain in her voice that tugs on my heartstrings. The ones she knows how to pluck better than anyone else. I grit my teeth. I can practically feel the apology her tone has elicited gathering on my tongue.
Guilt trip activated.
“Mom.” I sigh, pulling several deep breaths through my nose. “I’m sorry for being short with you, but I meant what I said. My love life, past or present, is not up for discussion.”
The words burn as they tumble out. She owes me an apology, but here I am feeling bad about snapping at her. Just another day with Lauren Carson as a mother.
“Fine. I won’t show any interest in my only child’s life, even though you’re always complaining about me not caring about you.”
I roll my eyes. “I have to go now.”
“Of course.” She sniffs. “You always have something better to do. Goodbye.”
And so do you. We both know you only called to see if you’ll have any juicy news to share with your nosy, money-hungry friends at brunch tomorrow.
“Bye, Mom.”
Hanging up the phone, I take the stairs two at a time and rush straight to my bathroom to freshen up. Minutes later, I emerge freshly showered, shaved, and moisturized. I check my phone and see that I have less than three minutes before Dominic arrives. He’s nothing if not punctual, so I know he’ll be here on time, looking amazing, smelling good, and, hopefully, completely over the whole “let’s take this slow” thing.
I rummage through the shopping bag from the boutique Mal, Mama, and I went to earlier today. It was a cute little shop with an amazing selection and inclusive sizing. Mal picked up a ton of things, but I only managed to find one that caught my eye. A burgundy midi skirt with a slit up the side that’s high enough to expose most of my thigh but not enough to be indecent.
With no time to waste, I run into my closet and grab a cream camisole and a pair of sandals. Getting dressed takes no time at all given the whole no-panty order and the fact that my top doesn’t require a bra. When I’m done, I give myself one minute to check out my reflection in the mirror, and shock courses through me as I take in the woman standing in front of me.
A brazen, wide-eyed woman with lust lacing her features. A woman who spent the night in the arms of a man after years of sleeping alone and is looking forward to doing that, and more, again.
My thighs clench at the thought. Last night was amazing, but I want more, and I know Dominic does too. For whatever reason, and against all the odds, this man feels the same thing I do when we touch. And even though I appreciate his reasons for wanting to take it slow—reasons that come from a soft, tender place I never expected to witness from Dominic firsthand—I don’t have any interest in doing so.
The need to have him, and let him have me, is an incessant pulsing in my blood, growing stronger with every beat of my heart. I’d be lying if I said I understand it, but I’m well past the point of dwelling on it. The only thing that matters is it exists, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure the man that’s awakened the greedy and desperate hunger inside of me takes care of itimmediately.
After all, that’s what he signed on for.
I smooth the fabric of my skirt and adjust my top one last time before grabbing my phone and purse and heading downstairs. My foot has justhit the last step when the doorbell rings, causing the butterflies that have taken up residence in my stomach to take off in a mad dash, their wings stirring the desire unfurling low in my belly.
When I open the door for Dominic this time, my hands only shake a little bit, but my breath still leaves me in a softwhooshat the sight of him. He looks mouthwatering in all black: a simple but expensive T-shirt, jeans that hug his thighs and probably make his ass look amazing, and low-top Converses. He looks good, really good, but I almost want to laugh at the simplicity of his outfit.Fashion is so easy for men.
Dominic clears his throat, pulling my attention to his eyes. They’re two pools of midnight that threaten to swallow me whole, and I’m crazy enough towantto be pulled into their heated depths.
“Hey.” I tuck a curl behind my ear to stop myself from yanking him into the house and saying screw dinner altogether. “You look nice.”
His lips curl into a smirk, and I know he has a pretty good idea of what I’m thinking right now. Knowing Dominic, it’s probably more than a good idea. He seems to have an uncanny ability to read my mind these days.
“I wish I had the words to tell you how incredible you look right now. Do you have everything you need?” He waits for me to nod before grabbing my hand and gently pulling me out the door.
I pull it closed behind me and lock it quickly before turning to face Dominic. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to say thank you again. I thought we had that whole thing with your mouth figured out.”
