“Shoes,” he says quietly.
“What about them?”
“Oh my God,” Alex whispers. “They flirt like enemies to lovers.”
Dom lowers his voice. “Put them on.”
I flounce into the couch corner. “What if I say no?”
He breathes in slowly. “Then I’ll sit here until you’re ready to go.”
“Sit where?” I ask, like I don’t care.
He drags a finger along the back of the couch instead of answering.
Spencer fans himself with a throw pillow. “What is this, HBO After Dark?”
I reach for my phone on the coffee table and miss it by an inch. Dom catches it and holds it just out of reach. I could grab, but that would put my palm on his wrist, and that would scramble my brain more than it already is at the moment.
With my arm partly outstretched, he slips the phone into my palm, his fingers ghosting my pulse point.
“Fuck, they’re sexy,” Mira stage-whispers.
Dom’s gaze doesn’t leave mine as he reaches for my other hand and pulls me up off the couch. And I go willingly. “Did you bring a jacket?”
The room goes quiet, and the silence is deafening. I nod once.
Finn must hand Dom my jacket because it appears out of nowhere as he holds it up, and I slide my arms through the cold leather material.
The chill of the night air hits my face, causing me to blink against a gust of wind. It takes the fog that took up residence in my brain with it.
I walk the ten steps to my door, reaching to turn the doorknob, but Dom beats me to it. He places his hand on my lower back, guiding me in. The fog threatens to reappear, and I struggle to hold it together. He slips off my jacket and places it on the hook by the door, and I kick out of my shoes. The clank of his keys hitting the bowl fills the space.
He takes my hand. It’s such a simple move, but it causes big reactions in my chest, and neither one of us talks as we maneuver through the house. Two bodies moving in a silent rhythm. He leads me, stopping in front of the bathroom and nodding his head toward the door. This is where I would normally give a smart-asscomment, but I don’t. I simply go in, take a much-needed piss, and brush my teeth. By the time I come out, Dom is handing me a couple of pills and a glass of water.
“For your head.”
I take the meds and set the glass on my nightstand.
“Dom?” I ask, turning and slowly walking toward him.
“Mm?”
“If I wore spandex,” I say, watching him watching me. “Hypothetically, in a controlled environment where traffic was not at risk, would you help me out of it?”
His jaw tightens. “Yes.”
“How fast?”
He unbuttons my jeans. “As slowly as you’ll let me.”
Holy fuck!
Heat punches low in my belly, then settles into something steadier when he doesn’t rush. He just stands close enough that I have to tip my chin up to see him. His knuckles brush my stomach as he nudges the zipper down, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say embarrassingly easily.
