Page 87 of The Summer We Lie

Me: Had to remove it, going shopping.

I bite my lip nervously after sending it. Will he be mad? The three dots appear almost immediately.

Cindy: Where are you going?

Me: To the grocery store, I wanted to cook dinner this weekend.

Cindy: You with Harper?

Me: No, she was still asleep.

Cindy: Did you take one of the cars?

Me: I Called an Uber.

Cindy: 1028 Flowers Drive, tell your driver to bring you here. Come to the 5th floor and tell me when you get here.

My stomach flips. Is he angry? His texts are so short and direct.

Me: To your office?

Cindy: Yes

I swallow hard and lean forward to give the driver the new address. My hands are trembling slightly as I type again.

Me: I'm not really dressed appropriately to come to your office.

Cindy: You think I give a fuck what you're wearing? You're sexy as hell in anything…or nothing.

Wow. He thinks I'm sexy in anything. What is this man doing to me?

It takes almost an hour, but when we get to the address, I thank the driver and get out, looking up at the building that's nothing but windows. Modern, sleek, intimidating—like Dominic himself. I pull out my phone and text Dom.

Me: Here

I make my way inside and take the elevator to the fifth floor. When the doors open, Dom is standing there looking pissed and turned on at the same time, and I'm not sure how to react. His jaw is clenched, eyes dark with heat, and he's still wearing that perfectly tailored button-down with sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms.

"Follow me," he says, voice low and controlled.

I do. The whole time I feel like a kid on the way to the principal's office. I don't notice anyone around, but there are a lot of closed office doors, so who knows who might see us. Is that why he looks so tense? Or is it because I removed the plug?

He opens a door at the end of the hall and motions for me to enter. I do and walk around, looking at his office. It's beautiful—minimalist but warm somehow, with large windows and sleek furniture. I stop at his drafting table and look at the design he's working on. The lines are bold and confident, the structure both innovative and elegant.

"It looks amazing," I think out loud, just as I hear the door shut and lock.

I turn around to face him, and he stalks over to me with heat in his eyes. His gaze rakes over my body—my shorts, my crop top that exposes my midriff, my bare legs.

"Turn around," he commands.

My heart pounds as I slowly turn to face the drafting table again, my fingertips resting lightly on its surface. I can feel him close behind me, his body heat radiating against my back. He doesn't touch me yet, just stands there, making me wait, making me wonder what he's going to do.

"I gave you one rule this morning," he says, his voice low near my ear. "Just one."

I shiver, not from fear but from anticipation. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I didn't think I could walk around the grocery store with it in."

I feel the heat of his body radiating just inches behind me, but he hasn't touched me yet. The anticipation alone makes every nerve ending in my skin come alive, hyperaware of the space between us—the charged air that feels like it's crackling with electricity.

He reaches around me slowly, deliberately, his fingers finding the button of my shorts. The metal releases with a soft pop, and then he's sliding both my panties and shorts down my legs in one smooth motion. The fabric whispers against my thighs as it falls to my ankles.