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.

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

not this

one hand against her cheek, caressing her skin, and

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 get back some of

eyes, waiting to see which version of me she’ll get next. “You aren’t this man, Dominic. I’ve seen it . . . when you let me in,” she whispers, wrapping my hand in her much smaller

is more anguished than

“You. Just you.”

aren’t I? I’m

eyes finding mine. “I am

“What do you need?”

her

and then I had my fingers up her dress before we’d even officially made up—before we’d even kissed.

and press my lips softly to hers.

her fingers in the hair at

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