It happens and I feel like climbing the inside wall of the plane as the sensations rock my entire body, hard. My leg twitches and I’m pretty sure that my eyes bug out. And still Dominic smiles. I grip his hand even tighter, my fingers damp, until he releases the button and the sensations stop.
I let go of his hand and fall back into the sofa, my head on the seat.
“Feel better now?” Dominic smirks, curling his long arm around my shoulders.
I nod. “Very much. I feel like I need a cigarette.”
Dominic raises a brow. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
I smile, closing my eyes. “I don’t.”
He chuckles, but I know I’m not going to last long now. I’m completely spent… from the orgasm and from trying to hide the orgasm. It took a lot of energy. I don’t know how long it takes, but it’s not long before I’m asleep. The last conscious thought I have is of Dominic’s scent filling my nose… musky, manly… so uniquely him.
Being on a private plane, his private plane, is leaps and bounds better than flying commercially. What’s that old airline slogan? “Fly the friendly skies”? Yeah, Dominic should totally make up his own slogan.
Come and fly with me.
As in, fly with me and I’ll make you f**king come.
Suddenly though, the thought of Dominic doing this with anyone else sends a hundred-pound weight slamming into my stomach. I’m shaken as I realize that I don’t want him to be with anyone else.
Only me.
I gulp, because that’s a dangerous thought when we’re talking about someone like Dominic.
Someone who, for all intents and purposes, cannot commit, cannot get close, cannot be intimate. I know I’m supposed to be proving that I can casually be with someone without falling for him, but I don’t think that’s me. I’m not the kind of girl who can do that.
I’ve got to face the facts, and they’re not just about me. They’re about Dominic too.
He isn’t the “friend with benefits” kind of guy.
He’s the kind of guy who gets fallen for, hard.
True to Dominic’s word, the flight is smooth. I don’t open my eyes again until after the wheels have touched down and he shakes my shoulder.
“Do you need to use the restroom or anything?” he asks me. “It’s probably nicer on here than it is in the airport.”
That’s no lie. I nod and climb out of the sofa, only to realize that Amy is following me to the back. When we get there, I pause.
“Do you want to go first?” I ask her hesitantly, because she’s looking at me so oddly. She shakes her head.
“No. I just wanted to tell you something.”
Oh, great. Here it comes.
“And that is?”
She smirks. “Dominic will never f**k you. So I know you’re walking around thinking you’re god’s gift right now, but just know that he’ll never f**k you. He’s probably secretly g*y or something.”
I stare at her. “Or he just didn’t want to f**k you,” I suggest firmly. “You think just because someone doesn’t want to f**k you, it means they’re gay? Jesus.”
I turn away, but she grabs my arm with talon-like fingers. “Dominic likes to play games. He’ll string you along until he’s done with you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She smirks again. I roll my eyes.
“Oh yeah, out of the goodness of your heart, I’m sure.”
Amy stares at me, her eyes as hard as glass. “He’ll get you to do more perverted things than you ever thought possible,” she says icily. “And you’ll do them all because you’ll want to please him. Because you think that you’re proving yourself to him. But in the end, it won’t be worth it. Because he’ll never be anything more than a perverted a**hole.”
I close the bathroom door in her face and sink onto the toilet, trying to collect myself. What the f**k was that? Why would she tell me such a thing? I mean, she’s a catty bitch, but seriously. If Dominic didn’t want to sleep with her, then he simply didn’t want to sleep with her.
The only thing is… the only thing that gives me pause is… that he hasn’t slept with me yet either. I’ve flat-out asked him to and he said not yet.
That begs the question: What the hell is going on with him?
He’s not gay. I know that. I can feel it in the way he looks at me. There’s also nothing physically wrong with him. He can definitely get it up. I’ve felt his erection pressed against me too many times to count.
Why then doesn’t he want to actually use those perfectly good erections?
Or maybe he does. Maybe Amy’s right and he just wants to use them to do perverted things. This whole making me come in front of Amy thing was pretty kinky. Finger-f**king me on the Ferris wheel was kinky. Going down on me in the supply closet was kinky.
He is perverted.
There’s no question about that. The only question is how perverted? And why? Something seems to scream out to me that there’s something really, really wrong with him.
Which is exactly what Amy is trying to imply.
It’s either that, or he just enjoys playing f**ked-up games.
She’s implying that, too.
I take out the bullet, stick it in my pocket, and wash my hands, and when I go back out Amy’s already gone, deplaned with her stupid little yappy dog. I have to admit, that’s a relief. I don’t want to deal with her again. I know a million fans would love to be around her right now, but that’s because they don’t know exactly how much of a bitch she really is. It’s unfathomable unless you witness it firsthand.
Since we don’t have to traipse through the airport like normal people, we are out and into a car within a few minutes, sitting in the back of a limo while it drives us toward Dominic’s house.
“This is the first time I’ve been in California,” I mention absently, trying to be casual, trying to hide the unsettled things that I’m thinking about Dominic now as I stare out the tinted windows at the suburban landscape rolling past. It seems to be dry here, with only a few specks of green. Dominic glances up from his phone.
“Really? How is that possible?”
I laugh. “It’s very possible. I’ve never had a reason to come out here before.”
Dominic shakes his head but doesn’t comment. I stare at the back of the driver’s head for a while and ponder telling Dom what Amy had said, but decide not to. What’s the point in it? I know him well enough to know that he’s not going to give me a straight answer, and he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by her or her implications anyway.
The ride to Hollywood Hills doesn’t take long, and I have to admit that driving into the exclusive community sends my tummy rolling. I watch out the window, wondering who I might see stepping out of a mansion. And then reality hits me, and I remember that I’m sitting in a limo with one of the most famous actors on the planet.
Reality check.
I stare at him for a minute, at the way he’s so casually graceful in the dark of the limo, his legs sprawled in front of him.
“Cool trick with the vibrator,” I tell him. “I didn’t see that one coming.”
He rolls his eyes. “How is that even possible? You work for Saffron and you don’t know what a bullet is?”
I shake my head. “I’m a waitress, not an escort, dickhead.” He grins.
“Fair enough. Are you still wearing it?”
I take it out of my pocket and hand it to him. “No. I didn’t trust you not to use it again.”
Dominic laughs. “Smart,” he nods. “Very smart.” He slips it into his pocket and stares out the window. “We’re almost there,” he tells me, gesturing toward a house at the end of the street, nestled onto the side of a huge hill.
I almost gasp when I see the house.
“Holy shit. Your house is even bigger than Sin’s,” I exclaim, pressing my nose to the window. And it is. It’s enormous and sophisticated and modern. Everything I should’ve known it would be.
Dominic grins, satisfied with my answer. “Regardless of what Sin says, everything about me is bigger than his,” he announces. I burst out laughing as I get out of the limo.
“Well,” I answer, still giggling, “I’m sure you’ve had no complaints.”
That was me fishing… trying to get him to say something, anything about women he might have slept with before. But he doesn’t say a word.
With a sigh, I stare upward at the house looming above us.
It’s majestic. And overwhelming.
“Do you have staff here, or do you somehow take care of this whole thing by yourself?”
Dom shakes his head. “I have housekeepers that come in once a week or so, but that’s it. I like my privacy. I do have a security detail, but they don’t live here. They only come with me when I go out. This is a gated community, so I don’t need them when I’m at home.”
I exhale slowly as we walk in the door, my heels clicking loudly on the stone floor of the foyer.
“I can’t believe you have such a huge house all for yourself,” I marvel as we wind our way up the curved staircase. He leads me to a bedroom and opens the door.
I pause in the doorway. “I get my own room?” I raise an eyebrow. “I wasn’t expecting that.” I was expecting to sleep in his bed.
He stares at me, his gaze hiding a million things. “I thought you’d want privacy.”
“That’s considerate of you,” I murmur as I walk past him and into my lush quarters. I can’t complain. It’s gorgeous… from the sunken marble tub to the fantastic view of the surrounding hills.
“If you need anything, just ask,” Dominic tells me graciously. “I’m going to leave you for a bit to freshen up while I take a shower. Want to meet on the veranda in an hour for dinner? The sun will be going down and you’ll want to see that.”
I nod and he leaves as I drop onto the bed in a heap. All of a sudden, everything here is overwhelming. This mansion, Amy’s bitchy attitude and her ugly implications… all of it. Including Dominic and his games.
His games.
Is he playing a game?
If he is, it’s clear that I don’t know the rules.
Chapter Sixteen
Jacey
“Why are you acting so weird?” I demand as Dominic sticks a bite of cheese in his mouth. He stares at me.
“Am I supposed to swallow without chewing?” He raises an eyebrow and I roll my eyes.
“You know what I’m talking about.” I sigh.
I gesture around me with my arm, at the fancy picnic Dominic had delivered from a catering service, at the romantic setup with the candles and the twinkling overhead lights, at the wine… at the way Dominic is all the way across the veranda from me. Earlier, when I had gotten up and sat next to him, he had waited a few minutes, then moved away again.
“What the hell, Dominic?”
He stares at me bemused. “What were you expecting, Jacey?”
The way he says my name annoys me, it’s so fluid and smooth and detached. It’s like he doesn’t care if I’m upset, if I’m annoyed—or actually, it’s like he doesn’t care about anything at all. It frustrates me, because more and more I know that I need him to.