Love Her or Lose Her (Hot & Hammered #2) - Tessa Bailey Page 0,89
Rosie screamed, Dominic swooping down to eat the sound with a filthy kiss, his lower body pounding down again, again, until his face screwed up and he came apart along with her, holding his hardness in the deepest recess of her body and shuddering violently.
They collapsed side by side into the bedsheets a moment later, their heads turning at the same time, eyes locking. Their hands slid toward each other, fingers locking. And they smiled.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rosie checked her appearance for the tenth time in the store window. Smart jacket. Boots. Skinny black jeans. Did she look the part of a restaurateur? Or even an aspiring one?
She rolled her shoulders back and exhaled, a small smile curving her lips.
Yes. She did.
Fine, she was about to make a seriously lowball offer on this restaurant, but she watched enough HGTV to know that people did it all the time. It was practically expected. She just wanted her offer to be considered seriously enough to make it to the negotiation stage—and it would. What would her mother say if she were here, witnessing Rosie doubt herself?
Not much, probably. But she’d convey a well-meaning rebuke with a raised eyebrow that said, They should be nervous about meeting us, Rosie.
Rosie closed her eyes a moment and breathed. She was here, she wasn’t an imposter, and her faith in herself was intact.
Grateful for the ride on a bubble of confidence her mother’s memory gave her, Rosie looked at the time on her cell phone and refused to panic. The realtor was late to show her the commercial space, but that didn’t mean she’d found her unprofessional over the phone or didn’t take her seriously. Briefly, she’d entertained the nightmare that the realtor and Martha belonged to the same knitting circle and had ruined Rosie’s chances of buying the space—it wouldn’t be so far-fetched in the small town—but she remained optimistic.
And wasn’t that nice?
Rosie tilted her head to one side and let the cool October breeze sweep along her neck. It was Saturday afternoon and she could still feel the Friday-night whisker burn there from Dominic’s unshaven jaw. A pulse fluttered between her legs and she took a shaky breath. Rosie wasn’t an expert on marriage or sex. She wasn’t an expert on anything, really, except maybe the amount of garlic to put in her chimichurri sauce. However. She was reasonably sure married couples didn’t usually have the best sex of their lives ten years after the wedding. Just a hunch.
Even now, standing outside the space where she dreamed of opening her restaurant, the legs keeping her upright were nothing more than holograms. She’d left the real ones back in the Gansevoort Hotel. Apparently her brain had been left behind, too, because mush had made up the contents of her head for the past few hours. If she licked her lips, she could almost feel Dominic’s good-bye kiss.
After calling the realtor and having beignets for breakfast, they’d shared an Uber SUV with Travis and Georgie from Manhattan to Port Jefferson. For once, Rosie and Dominic hadn’t been uncomfortable with the PDA taking place in their vicinity. Dominic had sat beside Rosie in the middle row, stroking her palm in circles with his thumb, his hot attention on her thighs enough to make her squirm in the leather seat. After they’d dropped off Travis and Georgie, her stop had been next. She’d had butterflies in her stomach as Dominic walked her to Bethany’s front door, kissing her before letting her inside. Kissing her. Sure. If that’s what you called utterly and completely claiming her mouth. Another brush of his tongue and she would have dragged him inside and hung a sock on Bethany’s guest room door.
Do not enter. Ravishment by husband in progress.
Rosie unbuttoned her jacket and waved some cool air toward her cleavage and underarms. Great. Now she was going to meet the realtor with sweat stains. Real professional and dignified.
It wasn’t only their lovemaking that continued to replay itself over and over in her mind. No, her thoughts were occupied by so many moments from Friday night. The things he’d said. How . . . capable and incredible he’d made her feel.
I loved you dancing in that dress. Looking so free. Like you could do anything. You can, honey girl.
Those sentiments were like echoes from the past. From Dominic before. And he’d meant what he said. Meant every word. The intensity in his touch, his stare, his kiss had been enough to make her believe . .