first week I came here, but everything becomes special when he’s by my side. I told him about my Anglophile tendencies and passion for English literature. Dom’s only response? ‘You’re such a nerd.’
Well, he’s such a sociopath. But he smiled when he called me a nerd so I smiled back when I called him a sociopath.
The waiter who comes to serve us is broad and tall and has a clean-cut hair. He’s bulky and appears right out of the military. No idea why, but he doesn’t seem like the waiter type. It’s like I’ve seen him before, but where?
After the waiter takes our order and leaves, Dominic sips from his water. He’s in a white button-down shirt and dark trousers. The cloth strains against his lean shoulder muscles, giving me a flashback of clinging to them when he brought my world to pieces in the shower.
My throat dries, and I take another sip of water. Damn the perfection that is Dom. Can’t he be less edible or something? I’m seriously contemplating jumping him in the restroom.
Whoa. Take it down a notch, hormones.
“Is there something interesting about the waiter?” he asks leisurely, almost in a nonchalant tone, but I detect the strain underneath it.
I feign ignorance. He’s surely rubbing his manipulative ways on me. “The broad waiter?”
He narrows his eyes but soon masks it. “That’s the one.”
I finger the utensils on the table, my tone innocent. “He was handsome, don’t you think?”
Dominic doesn’t even pretend to mask his anger. Darkness swirls in his intense brown eyes. On good days, Dominic is fearsome, but this pissed off Dominic is bad news. He’s always been possessive, so I’m kind of playing with fire.
Worse part? I love it.
I love everything about Dominic’s intensity and how he’s remotely far from normal. It’s like a daily thrilling ride.
He’s madness, and I’m tired of being sane.
His gaze shines with an eerie gleam. “Do you fancy a go with the handsome waiter, Camille? Hmm?”
Royally pissed off it is. I want to continue pushing his buttons, but I have no doubt that he’d flip me on his lap and spank me in public.
I smooth my voice. “Nope. You’re draining me as it is.”
His lips twitch in a slight smile. “Smart answer.”
“Hmmm,” I tease. “I never thought sociopaths can be this jealous.”
“I’m not jealous. Jealousy is when you don’t have something. You’re already mine.” His eyes darken as if he’s challenging me. “Aren’t you, baby girl?”
“I will think about it.” I feign innocence.
He growls. “I will spank your arse for that then I won’t let you come no matter how much you beg.”
“I take it back. I’m yours.” My tone turns pleading. He really becomes a devil when he decides to torture me. “So take your punishment back.”
He smirks. “I will think about it.”
I laugh. “God. I wonder how my first time would’ve been like if Pierre had even a bit of your dominance.”
He twirls the glass of water in his hand and I can feel his mood darkening, forming thick layers all around us. “Don’t compare me to that kid.”
“He wasn’t that much of a kid.”
“If he let you go and didn’t give you what you need, then he’s a fucking kid.”
“You’re mean.”
“I’m realistic and you love that about me,” he says matter-of-factly.
I love many things about him but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Did you love him?” His voice is neutral but I can sense the tension underneath.
“I thought I did. Now I believe I was confused.”
I was attached to Pierre. Love is far greater and consuming. My feelings for Dominic are both scary and empowering. I’m free falling and will never reach the bottom. I don’t want to reach the bottom. Pierre was safe and I thought maybe safe was enough.
It isn’t.
I don’t know if it’s because my father is a strong man, but beneath the surface, authoritative, controlled men attracted me.
Dominic is that and more.
His darkness speaks to mine. My connection with him is beyond his maddening touch on my skin. It runs deeper, stronger, and out of control.
Dominic appears approving, happy even, and I'm proud for being the cause. “From today on, don’t mention that kid in front of me or I will find him and murder him.”
“You are jealous.”
“I’m not. I just fucking hate that he had you.”
Which is basically jealousy. I bite back a grin and drown my glass. Then, I look at the date on the TV and frown. Wait. It’s already past half of August? I do a mental count of