Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2)

Chapter 14 Dominic

Dominic

“Stop.” Presley’s voice trembles, and her hand presses firmly against my chest.

Taken aback, I drop my hands immediately.

We freeze together in the dark, panting. I’m burning up; I’ve undressed her already, only her lacy black bra remains, and I ache to finish the job. I could feel that she wanted me when I touched her at the bar. So, why is she calling a time-out?

I’m the one who should be pissed off—not her. One touch, and she has me losing all control.

I flip on the light so I can meet her eyes while she explains herself. “Are you going to have a hard time following instructions on this trip?” I ask, my voice still low and husky with the desire she so abruptly blocked.

Presley is flushed too, but she stares back defiantly. “I don’t want you like this. This version of you . . .”

“I’m no different than I’ve been all along. This is the real me.”

“Bullshit. I know you well enough by now.” Her expression is serious, and I have no idea what I’ve done to anger her.

about me, Presley?” I ask, cocking my head as

swallows, gathering her courage. “You’re not this man. This hard,

against her cheek, caressing

I don’t know who I am anymore. Before Presley, my life was a series of well-orchestrated details. Commute. Work. Home. More work. The occasional fuck session to blow off some steam. She’s turned everything upside down—all in a matter of weeks. Who could blame me for trying to

man, Dominic. I’ve seen it . . . when you let

more anguished than I

“You. Just you.”

aren’t

nods, her eyes finding

“What do you need?”

with her tongue, watching

had my fingers up her dress before we’d even officially made up—before we’d even kissed. Sometimes I forget how young she is, how inexperienced, and how

her chin up and press my lips softly to hers. “That better?” I murmur, my lips still

curling her fingers in the hair at the back of my neck.

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