Before We Fall
Page 26

 Courtney Cole

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:

“You know what I was expecting.” I snap. “You’re confusing, and I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose as part of some fucked-up game. You wanted me out here with you, and you even brought a sex toy onto the plane to make me squirm, but now that we’re here, in the privacy of your home, you don’t want anything to do with me. I’m in a separate room, you’re sitting across the veranda from me… I don’t understand you.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Again, he raises an eyebrow. “You’re upset because I’ve brought you out here and haven’t fucked you yet? I don’t fuck just anyone, Jacey.”
His eyes are hard now, dark.
“Or are you upset because you don’t understand me? Because if that’s it, trust me, nobody does, so you’re not in the minority.”
I stare back at him, not sure what to address first. “Do you understand you? Do you even know what you’re doing?”
He shrugs, unconcerned. “Not really. I have no idea what I’m doing here with you, if you want me to be honest.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I tell him. “Amy told me some ugly things on the plane. She said that you’re a pervert who likes playing games. Is that true?”
Dominic’s green eyes darken. “What do you think?”
I shake my head. “No. Don’t throw this back on me. Is it true?”
He shrugs now, trying to seem unconcerned, but something tells me that he’s more bothered than he cares to admit. “It’s all relative, I suppose,” he says calmly. “Amy’s a bitch. I didn’t play fucked-up games with her. She knew from the beginning what I wanted, and she only got pissed when I wouldn’t give her what she wanted. As far as being a pervert, I’m more perverted than some, less than others.”
I stare at him. “Is that why I’m here? Because you want to do kinky things to me?”
He shakes his head, his eyes darkening even more. “Jacey, I’ve wanted to do kinky things to you from the beginning, but that’s not the point. I want you here against my better judgment. But now that you’re here, I’m not sure what to do with you.”
That instantly annoys me. The way he said it was so condescending. I’m not sure what to do with you. Like I’m a thing. Or a toy. Something he has complete control over. “Oh, so you beckoned to me and I came?” I stand up, annoyed, throwing my napkin onto the large ottoman in front of me. “Fuck you. You don’t crook your finger at me and I come running. I’m here because I like you. Period. But you don’t get to play games with me, Dominic. After what I told you about the kinds of guys I’ve struggled with, it pisses me off that you would even try. It’s not fair.”
I stalk away past the shimmering pool, back through the glass doors of his house, but when I reach the doorway, he has caught up to me and he grabs my arm.
“Stay,” he urges me quietly. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to play games. I’m trying to be honest with you. It’s a new concept for me, and I’m probably fucking it up. But I do want you to stay.”
I look up at him, staring into his eyes, and I find sincerity there. He wasn’t trying to upset me or control me.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I shouldn’t have let Amy get under my skin.”
The planes of his face are angled, and the moonlight reflects off of them, and suddenly I just want to run my fingers along his cheekbone. I don’t know why.
But I do it anyway.
I trace the outline of his cheek, trailing my fingers along his jaw. I feel his jaw flex as he stares down at me, his eyes thoughtful.
“I don’t understand you,” I finally whisper.
“Neither do I,” he admits. “But does it matter? Do you still want to be here?”
I do. I shouldn’t want to, but I do.
I let him lead me back to the veranda, back to the cushioned chaises and ottomans, where he sits down next to me and watches me, thoughtful now. This is the first time I’ve seen this side of him… this introspective side. I tell him that, and he smiles.
“Would you believe me if I told you that I don’t hang around with people much?” he asks, picking up a cracker and smearing pâté on it before handing it to me. “I don’t like gatherings, unless it’s with my family. And now… well, with Cris dating Fiona, I won’t be going to many of them any time soon.”
I take the cracker and settle back into my seat, watching him as I eat.
He’s so graceful and sophisticated, even though he’s not much older than I am. I know those things, his statistics, because I looked them up online. He’s twenty-four. He’s 6’2”. He’s right-handed. Dark hair, green eyes. But those are just things, facts. I don’t know what he thinks.
“Why are you so upset about your sister dating Cris?” I ask hesitantly. “I know you don’t really want to talk about it, but I’d like to know. I hate seeing how much it bothers you. You love your family. It must be something huge to make you stay away from them.”
Dominic tenses now, his leg crossed tighter than it was, and he looks away, out over the valley.
“You’re right. I really don’t want to talk about it,” he finally answers slowly. “I’m sorry that you do, but I can’t. It’s something that happened a long time ago and I honestly just can’t talk about it.”
His face is filled with pain and vulnerability, a unique combination that I haven’t seen there before. I reach up and brush the hair away from his forehead.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. “You don’t have to. I just… it makes me sad to see you upset. I’d like to try and help you figure it out, if I can.”
“You can’t,” he answers sharply. But then he softens his tone and actually picks up my hand. It makes me want to hold my breath, because he’s made it obvious he doesn’t like intimate contact. Yet here he is, holding my hand.
“I’m sorry,” he adds. “It’s just… you need to know that if you’re going to be around me, there’s a bunch of shit about me that you can’t fix. So I don’t want you to try. Don’t get invested in me, all right?”
I suck in my breath at his acidic tone and stare at him as I unconsciously pull my hand away.
“All right,” I whisper limply, stunned by his bluntness. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help asking about your family, because it’s something that I’m curious about… it’s something that I can see hurts you. I like you. I like you more and more each day. And as your friend, I don’t like that anything hurts you.”
“Are you my friend?” he asks suddenly, turning toward me.
I can’t explain why, but the expression on his face hurts my heart. It’s open. For the first time since I’ve known him, his face is completely open to me. I know that he doesn’t do this often… he doesn’t show his vulnerability.
“Yes,” I answer slowly. “I’m your friend.”
He nods, and I honestly don’t know what’s going on here. “And you like me more and more each day?”
I nod in confusion.
“Dominic,” I whisper, not sure of what to say. He looks up at me rakishly, the breeze tousling his hair, and he’s utterly beautiful.
“Don’t love me,” he says simply. “Or I’ll break you. I won’t want to, but it will happen.”
I’m stunned at the utter bleakness of his words, of his voice, of the heart-wrenching expression on his face. I don’t know what happened to him to put it there. But before I can say a word, before I can react, he reaches for me.
I know that for whatever reason, he needs me right now, and god help me, I want to save him from himself. From whatever pain he’s feeling. From whatever it was that hurt him.
I fold into him and inhale his mouth, his tongue sweet and hot against mine. His lips are soft and plunder my own, his hands sliding everywhere. He’s got an urgency now that I can’t understand. I don’t know where it’s coming from, or why he’s in an even darker mood than usual.
Whatever else he is, I can’t deny that he’s sexy. Everything about him is sexy and everything in me wants him. Right now.
He kisses me until I’m breathless, leaning me back until my head barely grazes the chaise behind me. He pulls at my shirt until he’s able to run his thumbs over my nipples, rubbing them into hard nubs.
“Still like me?” he whispers, his eyes boring into mine. I swallow hard and don’t answer. “Yes or no?” he asks, dipping his head and running his tongue in circles around each point.
“Yes,” I whisper limply.
He stands up and unfastens his pants, dropping them to the ground. Crawling over me, his rubs his bare penis against my wet opening, the friction of it creating a firestorm in me, causing me to cling to his strong shoulders.
“What about now?” he rasps into my ear. He’s as breathless as I am, I realize.
“Yes,” I murmur, trying to pull him closer, to pull him inside of me. But he pulls away, standing back up and then pausing in front of me, gripping my legs.
Without another word, he bends down, shoving up my skirt and burying his head between my legs.
As feverish as I am, his tongue brings me to a climax within a minute. The wetness of it rakes over me as his hands ravage the rest of me, sliding, kneading, pulling.
I close my eyes, blocking out the moonlight, the veranda, the lights from the valley. I revel in the feel of being close to him, as close as I’ve been yet. He might not have exposed much to me, but I could see that he wanted to. He’s just afraid. And knowing that makes me feel as though he let me in somehow… just a little.
But now he wants to annihilate me. I can see that in his eyes, as he makes me come over and over again with his mouth. His dark eyes gleam, and they are all I can see of his face as he stares intently at me from between my legs. I try to pull him up, to get him to crawl over me, to kiss me, to plunge into me, but he won’t. He stays down… making me come yet again.
I arch into the air, reaching for him, but he won’t allow it.
“I want to feel you inside of me,” I tell him urgently. Because I do. I want him to fill me up. To give me, for just a minute, what he’s not willing to give me otherwise.
Himself.
Completely.
Not bits of him, not pieces of him, but all of him.
He pauses, staring at me, and I can literally see it as his eyes shutter closed. He’s closed to me now, and whatever progress we made tonight is gone.
He smiles his normal smile, the rakish one, the one that millions of fans have seen and loved.
“Not yet, Princess,” he tells me as he climbs to his feet. “Not yet.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dominic
What.
The.
Fuck?
I let the cold shower water run over my body, over my head and my shoulders, down my hips and down to where I really need it.
What the fuck was I thinking?