“Very busy,” the blonde adds with a wink.
The group giggles.
I sip my champagne, trying to push away the jealousy gripping my chest.
They lean in closer, like vultures waiting for scraps.
“So? What’s he like?”
And something inside me, something petty and tipsy, snaps. Because the way they look at me says I don’t belong here, like I don’t deserve him on my arm, like they want to devour him and spit me out.
Absolutely not.
I plaster on my sweetest smile.
“Well,” I say lightly, “Dominic is…” I pause dramatically. “Very intense.” Their eyes go wide. “He talks you through it,” I add, sipping like I’m reminiscing. “Very… thorough.”
One of them actually whimpers.
“How big is he?” the brunette whispers.
I shrug, feigning nonchalance, but I feel the blush creeping up my cheeks at the thought of what Dominic’s working with.
“Let’s just say there’s no getting used to it.”
Oh my God. I’m lying so hard. I’ve never even kissed the man, and here I am bragging about having slept with him.
But the girls’ expressions morph from hostility into naked envy.
“Wow…” the blonde breathes.
“Damn…”
“God, I knew he had to be good.”
I lift my glass to my lips, trying not to die laughing when their faces suddenly shift. They smile wickedly at one another and turn to me.
“Well, it was lovely talking to you,” one of them purrs.
“So nice.”
“Enjoy your night!”
They slide off the barstools and walk away, whispering to each other.
Which is when I feel warm breath right against my ear.
“Very… intense?”
My soul leaves my body, replaced by shame.
He heard everything.
I close my eyes and pray the ground opens up to swallow me. But Dom’s presence looms behind me, solid and hot and unmistakably amused.
I open my eyes and he leans in closer, just enough that my spine tingles from his voice.
“I talk you through it?” he repeats, tone dripping with slow, mocking pleasure.
