“Out dancing.”
I squish my eyebrows together. Dom doesn’t look like the sort of guy that dances. “Dancing? Like a club?”
He breathes heavily through his nostrils like he’s almost annoyed at my line of questioning. “It’s a bar in town. They have a jukebox.”
That makes more sense. “I’m not dressed for a bar. I have nothing to wear.”
He growls. “You just done all that whining, woman, and now you’re worrying about what to wear. It’s not the Ritz. Just go like that, you’ll be fine.”
I look down at my leggings and old t-shirt. “Are you mad? I wouldn’t be seen dead in this.”
Dom chuckles. “You wore it in front of me?”
“That’s because I daren’t wear my best clothes with you in case you decide to rip them in two.”
His lips curl as if remembering yesterday’s events in the woods. “Just put that black skirt on and a shirt.”
“My work clothes?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”
I roll my eyes and stomp down the hall into the bedroom. Opening the wardrobe, I hunt for something to wear before he changes his mind on taking me out. A lemon and green floral print wrap dress with spaghetti straps hangs under a cardigan. The last time I wore this, it was a little tight, but I hung on to it in the hopes I’d shed a few pounds and get back to my weight from last summer. The chance of it fitting is slim, but after all the activity I’ve been doing with Dom, you never know.
Once I’ve pulled it over my head, I adjust my breasts, then tie the ribbon under my bust. With my full cleavage on display, it leaves little to the imagination.
Dom sidles up next to me with a fresh shirt on, smelling so good as he pats his neck with aftershave. Standing behind me in the mirror, he raises an eyebrow. “You wearing that?”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, but I might need to gauge everyone’s eyes out who looks at your tits.”
I rummage through Mum’s costume jewellery and find an old green brooch that I use to pull the fabric together and hide my cleavage. Then I unhook a black cardigan from the wardrobe and button it up to hide my breasts. The last thing I want is to draw any attention to myself.
Dom wraps his arms around me and buttons another button on the cardigan, then presses a delicate kiss against my neck. “These are for my eyes only. If I see you flashing them around, I’ll have to punish you.”
He catches me rolling my eyes in the mirror as he stands behind me. His knuckles glide down my spine, then his palm is on my ass. “I can see you’re going to need a reminder.” He squeezes my cheek, making me yelp with the sting from yesterday. “You remember what happened the first time I spanked your ass?”
Bastard thinks he can manipulate me with orgasm deprivation. “Isn’t that just cutting your nose off to spite your face, though?” If it’s a game of who can go the longest, I think I’d win. He doesn’t know I’ve gone almost a year. Wait, he probably knows that, actually. He knew everything else.
He chuckles darkly. “Maybe.”
I spin around and smooth my hands over his black shirt, loving the feel of his broad chest underneath my palms. “I’ll be good. I actually like your nose on your face.”
I kiss his nose, just like he always does to me. The thought of anyone else perving over my breasts makes my stomach churn. But I might have a little fun teasing Dom tonight.
* * *
I’m notsure where exactly he’s taking me, but he didn’t change his jeans, just a t-shirt for a shirt. During the ride, he rests his hand on my thigh like he can’t bear to not touch me whenever I’m close. It’s a nice feeling and one I’ve not had before. This overprotectiveness only ever came from my mother, and it’s only now I actually appreciate her.
Dom turns into a car park to a pub on the edge of town. Music blasts out the large bay window from the live band playing inside. He walks around to my door and opens it for me like a gentleman. My red heels click on the ground as I slide out of his Range Rover.
He takes my hand as we walk towards the large double doors at the front of the old public house. It’s more of a ‘she’s with me’ possessive move, than a gentle reassuring gesture with the way he grips my hand. But anyone would be proud to walk out as Dom’s girl.
His domineering presence as he walks into the bar demands the room’s attention. He takes me through the quiet side of the bar, avoiding the punk band playing in the other room, though we can still hear them as the bar in the centre serves both areas. A group of teens jump up and down, head-banging in the other side.
“Is this your idea of taking me out dancing?” I smile so he knows I’m teasing. I actually like it, though had I known he was bringing me to a mosh pit, I might’ve kept my original attire on.
“They don’t play all night. I’ll let you pick a song from the jukebox when they finish. What would you like to drink?”
