A second shake of those butterscotch waves. Maybe I'm misreading it, but is that a look of challenge I see in his eyes? It's as if he's sayingYou can do better, Menace.
And I can. I can do so much better. "Dom," I say, imparting a breathiness to my voice. I press a fingertip to his stomach, just an inch above his navel. Jutting out my bottom lip, I walk my pointer and middle fingers up the midline of his body. His throat bobs with a hard swallow. His hands, hung loosely at his sides, form fists.
My gaze lifts, and there he is, staring down at me intently, lower lip pulled away from top. Hunger burns in his eyes, carving out his breath until it's shallow.
This was supposed to be about torturing Dom, but dammit if I'm not aching now. His eyes tumble over my face, and I feel it like a caress.
I hate this man. I really do.My husband. I loathe him. Even if he does have an excuse for everything that happened. I loathe him on principle. I loathe him because otherwise I might?—
NO.
I take back my hand as if scorched and rip my gaze away, forcing it out across the parking lot.
"Dom?" A voice calls.
"Cecily?" A different voice.
Dom takes a wide step sideways, making it easier for Klein and Paisley to see him. I stand up straight, smoothing out my hair and my clothes. I don't know if they're rumpled, or why they would be, but it feels like the right thing to do.
"Here," Klein says, looking at us with suspicion. He's holding two takeout containers. "Your dinners."
"Thank you," I say, avoiding Paisley's gaze. I can practically taste the curiosity rolling off her.
"Everything all good out here?" Klein asks. "I was worried we were going to find you two in cuffs on the curb."
Dom chuckles. "All good. We avoided a domestic disturbance."
His eyes find mine. I don't know about him, but I am plenty disturbed.
Chapter
Nineteen
Dom: Here's my All About Me. Please send me yours. I'll memorize it.
Cecily: You forgot to use four words to describe yourself.
Cecily: I took the liberty, I hope you don't mind. Insufferable, pompous, fancy-pants, buffoon.
Dom: Someone used a thesaurus.
Cecily: Let's get this over with. Here's mine.
Dom: You also forgot to describe yourself.
Dom: I took the liberty. Vexing, bratty, witty, gorgeous.
Cecily: Seriously? What is wrong with you? We're being mean, Dominic.
Dom: I guess I'm not as mean as you.
Cecily: Guess I married the insufferable buffoon with the heart of gold. Great.
Dom: Even better, you get to spend three weeks in his constant presence.
Cecily: Your boss didn't put the kibosh on that?
Dom: Ki-boss?
