“You love this. Yes or no?” I ask raggedly. Because watching her powerless beneath me, blindfolded and restrained and unable to do anything but orgasm, turns me on. I’m rock hard now and I stroke myself with my left hand, even as I finger her with my right.
“Yes,” she ekes out. “Fuck me, Dominic.”
“No,” I answer firmly. “Not yet. Some pain is good, Princess.”
“But I want to feel you fuck me,” she murmurs, arching upward, trying to touch me as best as she can. In answer, I turn both of my hands on her, fucking her with several fingers with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other until finally, she screams my name, then falls limply against the sheets.
She breathes quickly and shallowly, her delicate body curved into the bed. I stand, pull my clothes on, then untie her hands and feet. I leave her blindfold on.
“You loved that. Yes or no?”
“Yes,” she says quickly, remaining motionless on the bed, even though she’s no longer restrained. With one hand, she reaches over and finds my rock hard cock. “You loved it, too. Yes or no?”
“Yes,” I say with a smile, before I stand up again. “I’ll see you soon.” And I walk from the room and I don’t look back.
This is what I do.
I don’t get attached.
I don’t get involved.
But I think about the look on her face when she was coming, the open and innocent expression, and I smile.
I don’t realize it until I’m in my car and I glance into my rearview mirror and find that my lips are curved up ever so slightly. It’s such a foreign expression that it startles me.
And then it shames me.
I shouldn’t be happy about anything concerning Jacey. Because once I’m through with her, there won’t be anything left to smile about.
There never is.
Chapter Fourteen
Jacey
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and from the way Dominic is looking at me from across the gym, I know it’s a text from him. My stomach flutters, and I take a break from stacking clean towels so I can pull out my phone.
You want to fuck me. Yes or No?
A thrill runs through me and I smile. I can’t help it. I glance up at him and find him staring at me with that look, the dark look that makes my heart pound. The one that makes me want him even when I’ve sworn to myself that I don’t.
I shake my head at him, even though it’s a lie. And he knows it’s a lie because he laughs, sliding his phone back into his pocket as he turns back to holding a bag for Tig.
I sigh, picking back up the towels.
It’s been two days since Dominic tied me to my bed.
When he walked out, I’d been astounded for two minutes, then all I could do was laugh. His penchant for being detached is becoming a pattern, and it’s something I have to get used to if I want to continue with this… whatever this is.
But definitely whatever this is, it’s fascinating.
It’s exciting.
Dominic fucking Kinkaide was in my bed. We didn’t exactly have sex, but it was just as intimate, at least to me.
Out of curiosity, I did a search for him online, to find out if he does this often… if he leaves behind a string of crushed hearts. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find much.
He doesn’t date a lot, although he’s been linked to a couple of starlets, including Amy Ashby. He doesn’t have any scandal around him… he’s kept his nose clean. And there’s not one thing mentioned about Emma, whoever she is.
His publicity team must be very good.
Or he’s actually as detached and distant as he pretends to be.
After these last two days of flirting and texting, two days of not progressing into anything else, I’m starting to think that’s the case. He’s actually that detached. He does things that pleasure him, but he doesn’t get involved.
It’s like… he flips a switch when he starts thinking that he’s getting too personal, and then he shuts down. I don’t get why he does it, but it seems more and more to be the case. And if I want to continue our “relationship,” I’ve got to accept it.
Because honestly, even though he’s got some drawbacks, he’s got a lot of pluses too…
I like his intensity.
I like his sexiness.
I like him. I can’t help it. There’s more to him than he wants me to know… than he wants anyone to know. It fascinates me. Every once in a while, there’s something in his eyes… something that says he’s vulnerable. He covers it up, but it makes me want to get close to him. To know him.
But I know he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to get close to anyone. There’s very few people I actually care about.
There’s a pang in my heart as I stack another row of towels and remember his words.
I know myself well enough to know that if I were in this for real, for a real relationship, someone like Dominic would never be good for me. Because of my own issues, I need more than he can offer. I need someone who would be an active participant in my life, someone who would make me feel important, like a priority.
But I’m not in this to get close to him, I remind myself. This isn’t a real relationship. I’m in this because it’s fun. I’m not getting used. I’m just entertaining myself. Soon, he’ll go back to Hollywood and I won’t see him again… unless it’s on the movie screen. But it’ll be fun for now. It’ll be a cool story someday.
I turn back around and meet Dominic’s gaze. He’s got his phone in his hand again and a dark look in his eye. He’s tall, slim, and cool in the middle of all of the surrounding sweat and heat and grime.
My phone buzzes.