Chapter 4 Presley
Dominic takes two steps forward, and then he practically attacks me, his mouth on mine in a hard,
brutal kiss of passion. No matter how angry he may be, no matter how confused he is, right now I can
tell that he wants me, that he wants to put all this behind us. And with the way his tongue sucks
shamelessly on mine, he can have whatever he wants. I melt into his touch, my heart now hammering
for an entirely different reason than it was a moment ago.
I clutch his dress shirt in my fingers as his hands sink into my hair, holding me close.
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“You know—what they say,” I whisper between gasping, open-mouthed kisses.
“Hmm?”
The fingers of his right hand slide up my thigh. I know what his destination is, and I can’t wait to feel
those fingers caressing me once again . . . readying me for his thick length.
“The bigger the—breakup, the better—the sex.” I whimper, his kisses now almost bites against my
throat.
This is going to work, Presley. This is actually going to work.
But then he pulls away.
“Dominic?”
The man before me wears an unreadable mask. He steps back, releasing me. I can still feel the warm
imprints of his hands, now suddenly exposed to the cool air of the room.
His breathing is ragged, his chest rising and falling quickly, and there’s an unmistakable bulge beneath
his zipper.
“I want you, Presley. You know that.”
My throat tightens.
“But I can’t trust you. And trust . . .” He swallows, his eyes locking onto mine. “It’s everything to me.”
“Dom—”
“Just stop. I’ve been burned before.” His eyes are dark and unreadable, and I know that the moment
has passed.
“Their mother?”
“Yes,” he says, his voice hoarse.
I hate to press him on this, but my curiosity has always gotten the better of me. He’s vulnerable. Now
may be the only chance I’ll get to peek inside.
I sit back on the bed and pull the sheet up to cover myself, while he remains standing beside the bed.
“Who was she?”
He weighs my question for a moment, and I’m not sure if he’ll answer. It wouldn’t surprise me if he
didn’t. He’s not exactly known for being the type to offer up personal details. But then his lips part and
he meets my eyes again.
“Her name was Sara. She was an escort I hired for an event. We clicked, and I started requesting just
her. It went on that way for a couple of months. Then we got careless, and . . .”
I clear my throat. “She got pregnant.”
He nods. “She didn’t want them. She didn’t want to be a mother. She wanted her life back. But the
paternity test said they were mine, so I paid her.”
“Paid her?” I cock my head to the side. Dear God, the things this man does with his money . . .
“To give birth, rather than have the abortion that she wanted to.”
Oh.
My skin feels cold and my heart hollow. I can see how much this hurts him to tell me. I can see it in his
eyes and hear it in the tremor of his deep, full voice—now strained with emotion. I never wanted him to
relive that devastation, but I’m the one who pushed him to the edge.
“I’m so sorry, D—”
“I think you should go.”
There. I’ve really done it now. I’ve jeopardized my job, my brother’s future, my . . . whatever this
catastrophe of a rtionship is.
I have no ce here. Dominic’s life is aplicated mess, and I’ve only scattered the pieces even
more, like a selfish child.
It’s time to grow the hell up, Presley. I screwed up, and now I have no choice but to live with the
consequences.
Without a word, I stand. I put on my dress and panties under his watchful gaze, my fingers trembling,
and head to the guest room where my brays on the floor.
After I gather my purse and shoes, I slowly make my way down the hall, past the girls’ bedroom, and
through the front door. The door clicks shut behind me.
Never once in my walk of shame—shame over everything I’ve done—does he try to stop me.
Why would he?