The movie continues to play, but I’m too lost in the feeling of Dominic resting against my shoulder.
His breaths are heavy. Slow. Like he’s all the way in the deepest part of where dreams live. And I don’t want to miss a moment of it.
I saw the way the flight attendant looked at him a few moments ago, and I get it. Even if he really was my husband, I wouldn’t fault her for that look. In slumber, he changes from someone intimidating to someone adorable.
A small sound, like a moan of contentment, reaches my ear, and Dom’s far hand, the one that had been draped across the armrest, shifts, sliding forward until it’s on my knee.
My bare knee.
It takes everything in me to stay still. To not flinch. To not grab his hand and shove it away. Or drag it farther between my legs.
He shifts again, and his fingers curl around the inside of my knee, like he’s holding me to him.
I expect him to wake up, but he doesn’t. And his breathing doesn’t change.
I take a deep, slow inhale, and I make my muscles relax.
Just lean in, Val.
Taking Dom’s words literally, I tip my head to the side.
My cheek meets the top of his head, the short length tickling my skin.
The feeling is so nice, so pleasant, that I nuzzle against him.
I rub my cheek back and forth, and it feels just as good as I knew it would.
Dominic lets out another tiny moan, and I freeze, keeping my cheek where it is against his head.
But that’s all he does. So I stay there, just like that, resting against a man I met at the airport who is asleep against my shoulder.
And I feel…
My chest tightens as emotions swarm my senses.
I feel kinda happy.
No, that’s not even right. I feel happy. Like a real level of happy.
But then my throat squeezes, and my eyes sting. Because this is fleeting. I know it’s fleeting. And if I focus on it, it’ll disappear right in front of me.
Out of nowhere, I’m reminded of a video I saw once. It was of a raccoon with a handful of cotton candy. He looked so happy to have it, but then he put it into a puddle, because raccoons sometimes wash their food, and it dissolved. And the look on his face…
I sniff.
Fuck.
He looked so sad and so confused, and just thinking about that stupid video is sending me over the edge. Because I’m that raccoon. And Dominic is my cotton candy. And if I pretend like he’s mine, if I act like I can keep him, then when that reality dissolves, it’s going to ruin me.
I let my eyes close.
I won’t fall asleep. I’m too aware of where I am, who I’m with, to do that.
Plus, I don’t want to miss a moment of this feeling. No matter how fleeting.
The credits are rolling when Dominic starts to stir. My eyes have been closed, but feeling him shift, I slide them open.
I’m grateful he stayed asleep for so long. Grateful I had time to get my raging emotions under control. And in that time, I was able to remind myself that we exchanged numbers. Or, more specifically, Dominic took my phone and entered his number after sending himself mine.
I’m not under any delusions that we’re going to date. But maybe, just maybe, we’ll see each other again.
And that has to be enough.
The warm fingers gripping my thigh flex, and Dom makes a deeper humming sound before his scratchy, sleepy voice speaks. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”
My hands are hidden under his suit jacket that I’ve continued to use as a blanket, but I flex them in my lap in response.
“Guess I should add human pillow to my resume,” I joke.
The weight against my shoulder increases before Dom lifts his head. “I’d hire you.”
A small chuckle builds in my throat, but it gets caught when Dom moves his fingers a half inch higher before sliding his hand back toward himself, dragging a line of heat across the top of my knee.
Thank you, earlier self, for deciding to shave your legs this morning. Also, extra thank you for using that awesome anti-rub cream on your inner thighs today rather than the usual hideous bike shorts.
Not that Dom is going to see my underwear, but at least I don’t have to worry about unattractive shorts peeking out from under my dress.
I swallow and force my eyes up. “Guess you were tired.”
“Guess so.” He drags a hand down his face before narrowing one eye at me. “Or maybe you drugged me.”
I snort. “You’ve found me out. I’m not really a web designer. I’m actually a drug lord.”
He huffs out a laugh, one side of his mouth pulling up. “Drug lord? Do they still call them that?”
My lips part, then I shrug. “I didn’t say I was good at it.”
The other side of his mouth lifts until he’s smiling at me. “I like you, Valentine Gandy.”
I dip my chin, putting my nose against the collar of the jacket in my lap.
That hand moves back across the armrest until his palm is on my knee again. “Don’t leave me hanging, Shorty.”
I tip my head to the side so he can see my exasperated expression. “I guess I like you, too, Big Guy.”
“That’s more like it.” Dom rolls his neck one way, then the next. “How much longer in this sardine can?”
“I’m not sure, but…” I wince in apology. “Can you let me out? I need to go to the bathroom.”
“I think I can manage that,” Dom says as he unbuckles his seat belt.
I brace myself for the chill before pulling the borrowed jacket away from my body and following him out of the row.
Dom moves back just enough for me to get past him. And call me a coward, but I keep my gaze averted as I slip past.
Thankfully the little restroom is empty, since I forgot to check that little light above the door to see if it was occupied. And while I do my business, I, of course, think of Dom. And I think of all the movies and books that talk about the mile-high club. And as I struggle to bend down far enough to reach my undies to pull them back up, I wonder how in the hell anyone actually has sex in one of these tiny bathrooms.
Maybe they used to be larger? Or maybe it’s just fiction at its best.
I shake off the image of trying to fit in here with another body and busy myself washing my hands, taking my time as the cold water helps cool my heated blood.
I use two paper towels to dry my hands, then unlock and open the accordion door.
And, just like that, my blood is right back to simmering, because standing in front of me is Dominic. He’s still not wearing his jacket. And now…
Heavenly Harrison.
Now he’s rolled up his sleeves, and he’s undone his top two buttons.
My tongue wets my bottom lip.
This is too much.
“You comin’ out?” he asks me with a smirk in his tone.
My eyes stay on the exposed part of his chest, on the new set of tattoos he’s made visible.
“Angel.”
I nod. “What? Yeah. Yes.”
A deep rumble leaves his chest before he reaches out and presses a finger under my chin, bringing my gaze up to meet his. “Go to your seat.”
His fingertip feels like fire against my skin. “Yes, Dom.”
I don’t know why I say it. No idea why I say it like that. But the look that crosses his face tells me he liked it. That he liked it a lot.
“Now, Shorty.”
My eyes move back to his neck and that exposed piece of chest as I step out of the bathroom. But he still doesn’t move. He doesn’t give me a single extra inch to get by. So, with my front pressed to his, I slide past him. My soft breasts press against his solid body, our height difference putting them against his stomach. A stomach that’s flexed. And hard. And… my stomach, which is just as soft as my breasts, slides against…
I pull in a breath.
He’s hard there, too. Maybe not all the way. But I can feel him. I can feel his length.
Dom’s exhale ruffles my hair, and I hurry the last shuffle step.
I don’t make eye contact with anyone as I quickly move to our row. And I don’t waste any time side-stepping into our row and dropping into my seat.
Positive he won’t take long, I straighten my skirt, buckle up, and pick up and drape his suit jacket back over myself.
My fingers curl into the material from the underside, and I bring it up to my mouth, letting the smooth texture rub against my lips.
When the bathroom door opens, I lower the jacket since I don’t want it to look like I’m kissing it. That would be crazy.
As soon as I see Dom from the corner of my eye, his belt right at eye level, I make sure to look really busy—staring at the screen that’s turned black.
When he’s seated, I think I hear him inhale, like he’s about to say something. But the seat belt warning dings a second before the overhead speakers crackle and we’re told we’re about to start our final descent.
The flight attendant walks down the aisle, collecting garbage, and Dom hands her our empty water bottles.
A weird sort of dread settles on my shoulders. Almost like grief. Which is absurd. We exchanged numbers. There’s still a possibility I’ll talk to Dominic again, maybe even see him. But knowing we’re about to land makes me worry that I might not ever hear from him again.
“So, um, how long is your layover?” I ask. And as soon as the question is out of my mouth, I snap my jaw shut.
Oh god, I hope that didn’t sound like I was inviting him over.
I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t invite him over.
Maybe if he has a really long layover, I should invite him over…
Noticing he hasn’t answered, I peek up at him and see those amused crinkles next to his eyes.
I roll my eyes. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know. And that’s a shame.” He doesn’t say it like he’s upset with me. The way he says it brings an even deeper blush to my cheeks. “It’s not a long layover, but I’m in no rush.”
“That’s nice,” I reply quietly.
Maybe he’ll want to walk with me toward baggage claim? Maybe not, but either way, I want to find out which way he’s going so we don’t say goodbye as we exit the plane and then walk awkwardly three feet away from each other while going in the same direction.
The plane around us shakes as we pass through whatever causes turbulence, and my heart hops into my throat.
Landing is always the worst part.
“I got you.” Dom’s voice draws my eyes to his mouth, and then movement lower brings them down to his hand, palm up, fingers spread, on the armrest between us.
We’ve held hands. We’ve leaned against each other. We’ve brushed our bodies past each other. But it’s always been him reaching for me, him pulling me in.
I’ve never gone to him.
But I want to.
I slip my arm out from under his jacket and slowly, gently, set my palm against his.
I twist my hand until my outstretched fingers are lined up with Dom’s. His hand is so much larger, his palm bigger than mine on all sides. His fingers are so much longer that when he flexes the top knuckle, his fingertips curl over mine.
They’re strong hands.
They’re warm. And I can feel the rough calluses that run along the base of his fingers. A contrast to my soft hands.
The plane dips with a rattle.
I twist my palm, and when I start to curl my fingers between his, he does the same.
And it’s the best thing I’ve felt in a while.
With nothing else to say, I relax against the backrest and focus on Dominic’s thumb as it rubs small circles on the back of my hand. Turbulence forgotten.
The seat belt light chimes off and is followed by the mass clicking of everyone on the plane unbuckling.
Following suit, I undo my belt and scoot forward on my seat until I can reach down and pick up my bag.
Dom has respected my need for quiet between us but breaks that truce when he grabs hold of my backpack strap.
I put up a minor fight, but he uses his free hand to pry my fingers off the strap. “I’ll carry it.”
I smooth my hands over his jacket that’s resting in my lap. “Pretty sure security will have a problem with you walking all the way down to baggage claim.”
Dom angles toward me to give himself space, then slings my bag over his shoulder. “Then I’ll carry it until our paths part.”
The crew opens the main door, and the first row of people starts to exit the plane.
Until our paths part.
When the aisle clears, Dom stands and shifts out of our row. Then he gestures for me to go ahead of him.
I do my best to look graceful as I shuffle out, and he manages to snag his jacket out of my hands so I’m left carrying nothing.
When I turn my back to Dom, standing at my full height, fingers brush against my ponytail, and he chuckles, “Shorty.”
Teasing.
Stick with the teasing so you can keep smiling when your paths part.
I say thank you to the attendants, then take that last step off the plane and onto the Jetway.
It’s evening, and the end-of-September air breezes up through the small gap, cooling my overheated nerves.
The trees will start to change in a few weeks, and I can’t help but picture going on a fall-themed date with Dom. Complete with apple cider and scarves and curling up in front of a fireplace.
I blink.
Stay in the present, Val.
Dom walks behind me until we get to the top of the ramp and step into the Minneapolis airport. Then he moves to my side and matches his steps to mine.
The movement of his hands draws my attention, and my brows knit together when I look down at what he’s doing.
Dom has rolled up his fancy suit jacket inside out so the blue silk interior is the only part showing. And he’s shaped it like… like a giant burrito.
Dom tucks the bundle into the crook of his arm and presses his free hand against my lower back. “This way.”
I look at the jacket and gape because it looks like he’s holding a baby.
Sweet Mariah Carey. Could you imagine?
And then I look up at what’s in front of us. What he’s steering us toward.
I glance back down at the fake baby bundle, then up at the bright white free-standing lactation room situated along the wall in the main hallway.
“Dominic,” I sort of hiss.
“We’ll go in here, Mama.” Dom doesn’t keep his voice down. And the way he says “Mama” sounds different this time. Like he’s saying it as a title, not a pet name.
As if he timed it, the door to the pod swings open, and a woman with a baby strapped to her chest steps out.
Dominic stretches his free arm out, catching the door and holding it open for her so she can get her luggage out.
“Thank you.” She beams up at Dom, not even sparing a look at his infant.
And because my lust is stronger than my decency, I let Dom nod me forward into the lactation pod.
I let him hold the door as I go inside.
I let him step in behind me—with our fake baby in his arms.
I let him lock the door.
There’s a small mirror on the wall directly in front of me, and the dim lighting above allows me to see the expression on Dom’s face.
It’s hunger.
Need.
Desire.
Dominic tosses his jacket onto the bench seat on our left, my backpack following it.
Then he steps closer.
His height puts his head above mine, and I watch his eyes as he looks at me in the reflection.
“What…” I trail off.
I don’t really need to ask what we’re doing in here. But he answers me anyway.
“I need a taste of you, Angel. A taste of whatever you’ll give me.”
My eyes immediately jump to the abstract drawing of a pair of boobs on the wall.
Dom groans. “Fuck, Valentine, I’d kill for just a kiss. But I’ll taste those too if you let me.”
My gaze snaps back to meet his in the mirror.
Those…? He wants to taste my breasts?
He gently—so gently—ghosts his hands up my hips to my waist.
“I’d let you,” I whisper.
At my words, his hands clamp on to me.
The span of his fingers is so wide his thumbs press into my back on either side of my spine while his fingers dig into my soft, squishy parts.
A section of my brain tries to be embarrassed over how much his fingers press in, but the look in his eyes overrides that embarrassment.
He clearly likes what he feels.
He slides his hands around to my front, spanning over my stomach, pulling me back tightly against his body. All of his body.
That length that was half-hard when I brushed past him on the plane is… It’s not half-hard. It’s not half anything. And the steel of it presses into my lower back.
Lean in.
I fill my lungs, then twist in Dom’s grip. He loosens his arms just enough to let me spin to face him, and I waste no time throwing my arms around his neck.
He leans down.
I stretch up.
My eyes close.
And our lips meet.
They come together in a frenzy. There is no closed-mouth peck. No sweet kisses to start. None of that.
Our mouths open the moment they connect.
Dom’s tongue sweeps into my mouth, tasting me.
And it’s been so long. It’s been so damn long since I’ve kissed someone. But my body doesn’t need any reminders.
My tongue lashes against his, and I tighten my grip around his neck, pulling him closer.
A sound rumbles from Dominic’s chest into my own, and then he’s dipping.
He grips my ass, then slides his hands lower. He presses my flowy yellow skirt into the crevice where my ass meets my legs, and then he lifts me.
The groan he lets out has nothing to do with hoisting me into the air and everything to do with me automatically wrapping my legs around his waist.
My mouth never leaves his. And as he grips me closer, I scrape my fingers up the back of his head. So much rougher than I was when I first touched him on the plane.
Dom takes a step, then one more, before he spins us in a partial circle.
“Legs,” he pants into my mouth.
I don’t know what he means until he starts to sit. Then I unhook my legs and bend them so I’m kneeling on either side of his lap when he sits on the bench opposite the backpack and jacket.
It doesn’t occur to me to try and hold myself up. I like the feeling of him under me too much, so I let my weight settle on his thighs. But he’s still palming my ass, and Dom must agree that I’m too far away because he pulls me closer.
Against him.
I moan when he drags me up over the bulge in his pants. A large bulge that rubs against my seam. The layers of fabric between us are hardly enough to dull the sensation.
One hand slides up. And up. Between my shoulder blades. Up my neck. And then he grabs hold of my hair, grips the base of my ponytail, and tugs.
My head tips back, finally breaking our kiss, and I slide my eyes open.
“You’re gonna have to stay real quiet.” Dom’s lids are half-lowered as he tells me.
And I can’t help myself. I roll my hips, my heat pressing into his length.
His jaw flexes, and I revel in the low sound he makes.
“We’re both gonna have to stay quiet,” he corrects.
“I can do that,” I whisper, hardly believing what’s about to happen.
“Can you?” Dom releases my hair but never lifts his hand from my body as he drags it back down to the base of my neck, then around until his hot palm covers my throat. “Can you swallow it down?” He tightens his fingers the smallest amount. “Can you swallow those pretty sounds for me?”
I nod, the movement frantic.
“What will you let me do?” his voice rumbles.
“Do?” I blink as his hand, still firmly against me, slides lower.
Dom’s palm is covering my cleavage now. “What do you want me to do to you?”
I squirm.
I know what I want.
I’m sure he wants it, too.
So I lower my hands from around his neck and reach for the tie at my side that holds my dress together.
It’s double knotted, but I’ve done this so many times it only takes me a second.
And as I pull the sides of my wrap dress apart, exposing my plain but cute white underwear set, I say it just how I would say it in my fantasies. “I want you to fuck me.”
Dom makes a choking sound, and then he lets go of his hold on me so he can dedicate both hands to opening the shiny gold clasp between my breasts, popping my bra open.
“Christ, Mama, I’m gonna fuck you, alright.” He cups my breast, and his other hand lands in the middle of my spine, preventing me from falling backward when he leans down and sucks my nipple into his mouth.
“Oh my god!” The sudden pressure sends electricity shooting through my body, zapping down to my toes before it comes back up to pool between my legs.
My back arches.
I can feel the slickness building at my core, and it makes me squirm.
I’ve always been self-conscious of how turned on I get. How wet I get.
The kiss alone was enough to ready my body for him. And this…
Dom slides his tongue over my hardened nipple.
This has me dripping.
“Your tits are perfect.” Dominic moves to the other breast, proving he means it by sucking on the peak like it’s giving him life.
I start tugging at Dom’s shirt. “I wanna see them.” I try to get to his shirt buttons, but he’s bent over too far. “Please, Dom.” I keep my voice quiet, but I keep pulling at the shirt. “Can I see them?”
He lifts his head. “See what?”
He pinches my nipple, and I gasp. “Tattoos. I wanna see your tattoos.”
But I don’t wait for him to reply, because now that he’s sitting up, I’m already undoing his shirt.
Each button reveals another strip of skin, another strip of hard muscles and black ink.
Another button, and a skull stares up at me from Dom’s rising and falling chest.
Another button, and his defined stomach is revealed.
My fingers hurry through the last few, then I spread the material and press my hands against his tensed torso.
I knew he had muscles. You can see it when he’s fully clothed. But he’s exactly the type of man I dream of. Strong. Built. Big enough to make me feel small.
Bare hands grip my sides, and I realize he’s moved his hands inside my dress. “So soft.” He tightens his fingers, flexing, feeling. “So goddamn soft. So warm.”
I’m breathing so heavily, feeling sexier than I ever have.
Because he’s making me feel sexy.
“I need to get you ready, Angel.” Dom holds my gaze as he whispers to me in that deep voice. “I need you wet.”
But I’m shaking my head before he finishes.
“I’m so wet.” I breathe out the confession.
Fingers wrap around my nipple and squeeze.
My mouth drops open.
“I’m gonna check.” Dom lowers his hand from my breast, rotating his wrist so his fingers are pointed down when he cups my mound.
That contact is enough to send another spasm through my body. And Jesus, I’m ready.
Dominic traces the edge of my panties, moving along the crease of my thigh.
When his fingers are beside my entrance, he hooks them around the elastic and pulls the strip of fabric to the side.
That motion alone is enough for his knuckles to drag across my slit, covering him with my readiness.
He drops his face forward and presses his open mouth against my shoulder to muffle the sound. But I think it was the word fuck.
“I t-told you.”
Dom’s teeth scrape over my skin as he pulls his mouth back. “Take my cock out, Valentine. You’re fucking drenched and ready for it.”
A wave of pleasure rolls through my body.
I like hearing him talk like this.
I guess I like dirty talk.
My hands shake as I reach down toward his belt.
Dom strokes one finger up the length of my slit but doesn’t push in.
“I can’t wait to be inside you.” His finger slides the length again.
I pull his belt free from the buckle.
“I’m so tempted…” The first inch of his finger presses inside me. But he pulls it back out.
I whimper while I undo the button on his pants.
“But if I start now, you’ll be coming on my hand.” He traces his finger back up toward my clit.
I pull his zipper down.
“And I want you coming on my cock.”
I pull down the top of his boxers, and his dick pops free.
It’s so big and thick that it audibly slaps up against his hard stomach.
Dom slides his other hand down my back, down the crease of my ass, and keeps going until his fingertips touch below me. One hand in front and one behind.
“Hold my cock steady,” Dom demands as he lifts me.
He lifts me up and off his lap.
His thighs are so thick, and I’m so much shorter, that even on my knees, I can’t get the height I need to get his dick inside me.
So he’s lifting me. By the vagina. One hand on either side of my entrance, holding me open.
I keep one hand on the back of Dom’s neck, and with my other hand, I wrap my fingers around his rock-hard length.
It’s so smooth. So… appealing that I want to put it in my mouth.
As easily as if I were made of feathers, Dom moves my lifted body forward.
We both hold our breaths as we near. And we both suck in a breath when his tip bumps against my clit.
“Get me wet,” Dom demands.
I do as he says and rub the head of his cock along my slit, coating him with my wetness.
“I’m ready,” I tell him, begging him with my eyes to hurry.
“You’re ready,” he says back to me, his blue eyes looking extra bright in this little room.
And then he’s lowering me. And I’m spreading around him, stretching around him.
And it’s good.
Oh fuck, it’s so good.
Dominic’s cock jumps inside me, and jolts of pleasure race between us.
It’s so—
Dom drops me the last several inches, impaling me onto his lap.
At the same time, a hand flies up and presses into the back of my head, shoving my face into the space between his shoulder and neck, letting the collar of his shirt muffle my cry.
Dominic does the same, only his open mouth is against my skin again. His hot exhale makes me shiver.
Then he moves. Just a shift of his hips. And his cock pushes in a little more.
I groan into his body and rock my hips with his. My shifting thigh muscles squeeze my insides around him.
Fingers move between us, and the hand I’d forgotten about—when my focus moved to the hot length inside me—strums against my clit.
I close my eyes. All the background noise is gone now, and I’m only focused on what’s happening between us, what’s happening to me.
Dominic’s motions get more deliberate, his lifting hips more forceful.
And I wish we had a bed we could fall back onto.
I wish I could see him completely naked.
I wish I could make this last forever.
But we’re in the middle of an airport. And naked or not, I’m currently having sex with the hottest man I’ve ever talked to. And I’ve lost track of time, but I’m so close to what is going to be a screaming orgasm that I press my mouth harder against his shirt.
“I need you to come now, Angel.” Dom turns his head toward my ear, enough for me to hear him. “It’s been a long time, and this sweet-as-candy pussy is about to suck the cum right out of me. So I need you to come, Valentine. I need you to be a good little girl and come first.”
He applies more pressure with his fingers and moves faster against my clit.
“Dominic,” I say directly into his shoulder as I hug him to me with both arms.
My legs start to shake.
I’ve been in a state of arousal since I first saw Dom’s face. And I can’t hold it off much longer.
“That’s it. Flutter that pussy around my cock.” His words are ragged. Breathless. And he presses his fingers firmly against my bud as the tip of his dick strokes against that spot inside me, and I implode.
Dom doesn’t let up.
His hips don’t stop.
His fingers keep rolling.
And I keep coming.
Every muscle I have clenches, and I bite into his collar to keep from crying out.
Dominic bites down on my shoulder, pulling me down onto him as deep as he can go. His fingers finally leave my clit, and that arm bands around my back as the giant body below me flexes with release.
I can feel everything.
I can feel the seed pumping out from his tip.
I can feel his dick thickening as he pulses the final few times.
I can feel how full he’s making me.
And it sends another jolt of pleasure through me, making my eyes water at the intensity.
His groan is so low it vibrates from my collarbones to my hipbones, and my core tightens around him one last time.
Dom’s muscles finally relax at the same time as mine, and it feels like we melt even farther into each other.
Our heavy breaths echo around the tiny space, and I finally remember where we are.
A tiny laugh jumps up my throat, and still hugging Dominic, I slap a hand over my mouth.
“Something funny, Shorty?” Dom’s lips brush my skin with every word.
“I can’t believe we did that. In here.” I press my lips together, keeping the larger laugh inside.
He shifts his weight from side to side. “Me either. This bench is hard.”
I smile against him. “Well, my seat was perfect.”
Dom nuzzles into my neck as he slides his hands down to grab my ass. “So fucking perfect.” He moves his hands around to my hips, and he groans. “If we stay like this any longer, I’m going to want to do this again. And it won’t be nearly as quick.”
Quick? I almost moan again, not thinking that was very quick at all. And wondering what not quick would be like with Dom.
“I also won’t be able to stay quiet for a second round.” His hands flex. “And I’m pretty sure the good people of the airport will eventually take issue when we rock this pod away from the wall.”
I grin as I raise my head. “Yeah, I’m not really into the whole getting caught thing.”
His smirk makes me feel like he wants to say something but decides not to.
Then his face turns serious. “I will be buried in this sweet pussy again, Angel. This isn’t the only time.” His words swell inside my chest. “Tell me you believe me.”
I wet my lips, my mouth feeling suddenly dry. “I believe you.”
“Good.” Dom leans in and presses his lips to mine in the gentle kiss we didn’t start with.
And while his mouth is moving against mine, I don’t notice him sliding me back on his thighs until his cock slips free.
Dom slides my underwear back in place, just in time, because with my legs still spread over him, I can feel his release leaking out.
He runs a finger between my legs, pressing the damp fabric against my swollen flesh, soaking my panties further.
Which is when I realize we never talked about condoms or birth control and certainly didn’t use anything.
I inwardly cringe.
I’m on the pill, and I take it religiously, but I’ve never had sex without a condom. Not ever. And it was foolish and stupid and… hot. So fucking hot. But also messy.
“I know you need to clean this up.” Dom traces my seam one more time. “But I’m going to be hard for the rest of the night thinking about you wearing these dirty panties all the way home.”
Another pulse runs through me at his filthy mouth, causing my insides to clench, and I can feel more of him being pushed out.
Dom grips my waist with a sigh and lifts me off him, setting me on my feet in the center of the pod.
My eyes want to take in his bared chest, want to trace every inked line, but I need to focus on straightening my own clothes so I’m ready when he is.
I clip my bra—not looking up while I adjust my boobs into the push-up cups—and then rewrap the fabric of my dress before tying it off.
I glance in the mirror as I tighten my ponytail and see flushed cheeks, lips pinker than normal, and what might be a bite mark on the top of my shoulder.
Dominic, buttoned and righted, reaches past me for his jacket, which he quickly wraps back up, silk lining out, until it looks like a little baby bundle again.
“Pull the fake baby trick often?” I can’t help but ask as I absently put my arms through my backpack straps.
“This is a first.” Dom smirks as he hands me the bundle.
I hum and decide to trust he’s telling me the truth.
And before I can overthink how we’re going to coordinate this, I’m stepping out of the little lactation room, pretend baby in my arms, with my pretend husband stepping out behind me.
The door clicks shut after Dom, and he drapes his arm around my shoulder, keeping us moving.
I keep my gaze down when I notice a few people looking our way. The anxious part of me assumes that they know what we just did. But then I think about my reaction the first time I saw Dom and figure there’s a good chance they’re just looking at him.
“Yeah, go ahead and change him,” Dom says like it’s a response to a question I never asked.
Then I flick my gaze up and see the ladies’ room right in front of us.
Still walking, Dom holds me to his side as he lowers his voice. “It was nice to meet you, Valentine.”
He presses his lips against my temple, and then he’s gone.
Moving down the hall.
Like he’s headed toward the men’s room, but I know the truth.
He won’t be here when I come out.
