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.

Presley?” I

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

cheek, caressing her skin, and Presley

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

to see which version of me she’ll get next. “You aren’t this man, Dominic. I’ve seen it . .

want from me?” My voice is more anguished than I intended, and I inhale deeply, trying to calm

“You. Just you.”

here, aren’t I?

finding mine. “I

“What do you need?”

with her tongue, watching

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

I tilt her chin up and press my lips

the hair at the back

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