“Let’s get straight to it then. First things first, and I think this should go without saying, as long as there’s an us, there’s no one else. No James. No Ash. And no other asshole Mal thinks you’ll enjoy spending an evening with.”
Sloane pushes her empty plate away. “Fine. That also means no more Kristen.”
“I’ve already told you Kristen and I aren’t a thing.”
“You should tellher. Because the back-to-back phone calls and the hand she was running all over your body at the club last night tells me she hasn’t accepted that truth yet.”
Fuck, jealous Sloane is sexy as hell, but she’s also wrong. Kristen knows it’s over between us. Yes, she did get a little friendly in front of Sloane last night, but that’s just how she is when she’s drinking. And tonight, well, she was just freaking out about being passed over for partnership if she loses her current case.
“We’re just friends, and before you ask, yes, I meant it when I said I haven’t slept with her in weeks.”
Sloane’s shoulders go back. “And you’ve been tested since then?”
There’s something dangerous about those words coming from her—a sinful implication that coaxes the image of me spurting hot ropes of cum into her spasming pussy right to the front of my brain. Thoughts of filling her up until it leaks out and runs down her thighs, covering our joined skin in the sticky evidence of my need for her, has my balls tightening viciously.Jesus. Will she let me have that?
The hungry glint in her eye makes me think it’s a possibility.
“Yes, angel. Even though I always use condoms, I make a point of getting tested regularly. I’m clean, and I don’t doubt that you are.”
“I am, and I have an IUD.” She takes another sip of her wine. When she says the last part, she glances away from me, and I swear I see something close to shame passing over her features before she looks at me again. “So, no other men for me and no other women for you. What else?”
“I want you in my bed every night. We’ll have to spend all day long pretending like nothing has changed between us when everything has, and while I understand your reasoning, I know the only way I can live through it is if I know you’ll be coming home to me when the day is over.”
Home to me.Let her continue to think this is temporary after spending every night sleeping in my arms.
Sloane bites her lip, and those worried little creases are back in her forehead. I search her eyes, hoping to find the source of the uncertainty flickering in their golden depths, but come up empty. Honestly, I didn’t expect this to be an issue. She didn’t complain about sharing a bed with me last night, so I don’t get her hesitation.
“I can’t do that.”
“Why? I seem to remember cuddling being one of the things on your list of desired physical activities, and it certainly would help improve your quality of sleep, which I’ve read can be an issue for people who suffer from touch starvation.”
Her brows lift in surprise. “You researched touch starvation?”
“I promised I would help you. I can’t do that if I don’t have all the facts available to me. Now tell me why we can’t spend every night together.”
“I don’t have a problem with us spending every night together. I just can’t stay at your place, because it’ll feel weird to be there with you after the nights I spent there with Eric when you two lived together.” She sighs, her brows furrowing together as she fiddles with her wedding band. “I know that must sound ridiculous, but I just can’t be there without thinking about him.”
Of course.Eric spent a year in the second bedroom of my place—which I turned into an office a few years back—because Mama forbade him from living with Sloane before they got married. It was a pointless declaration, since they alternated between the loft Eric and I shared and the townhouse Sloane shared with Mal.
Mostly though, they were at our place. Laughing on the couch. Play-fighting in the kitchen. Quietly making love when they thought I was asleep, the only indication they were doing anything at all being the light tapping of the headboard against the wall.
Thankfully, time and the structural changes I made when I took out a mortgage on the place have helped me forget all about the months I spent avoiding my own home just to get away from them. Still, I should have thought about what it would mean for me to demand that she spend every night in my bed. It was an oversight on my part, and it won’t happen again.
“No. You don’t sound ridiculous, angel. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or worried when you’re in my arms at night, but where do you suggest we sleep? Because waking up next to you isn’t up for discussion.”
She smirks. “That’s usually what it means when you say something is a rule, Dominic.”
“Are we back to Dominic now?”
“We never left it.”
I can’t help but smile. She’s so beautiful and stubborn as hell. How she can insist on being so formal when I’ve had my fingers inside of her on multiple occasions is beyond me, but I won’t press. As much as I’d love to hear her use a nickname for me—one that reflects the intimate relationship we now have and reminds me of our night together—I know it’s not important in the grand scheme of things. She’s agreed to every single one of my rules with no argument, so I can give her this one concession. Even if she doesn’t understand what it means for me to do so.
“If you say so.” I shrug, taking a final bite of my potatoes before pushing my plate out of the way. “Would you feel more comfortable sleeping at your place?”
“Yes, unless you think Sebastian Adler wants to put us up in the penthouse for the next two months,” she jokes. “Though I’m pretty sure giving you this place for the night meansyouowe him one now.”
An amused huff passes my lips. “Seb owes me more than one favor, angel, and I’d happily cash them all in for you. But I don’t think you want that. You want this new thing to happen somewhere you feel safe and secure, and that’s what we’re going to do, but tell me one thing.”
