Undeniable: Dom & Gigi (Beg For It 5)

“You are the most interesting person I’ve ever met!” she gushed, looking at me like I was amazing.

“You need to meet more people, princess.” I knew a hundred guys with the exact same crazy stories as me. I didn’t want her meeting them, though.

“But you left all that behind?” She looked at me dreamy, like I was the white knight in this story.

“There’s nothing noble in what I’ve done,” I cautioned her.

“But you don’t want that life any more.”

“I never did,” I admitted, wondering if she might be the first person I’d had an open conversation with about it.

“Why not?”

I leaned back in my chair, wondering about this pretty little debutante sitting across the table from me. Why did I feel like I could talk to her? But I did. “I want to help people, not hurt them.” That was the first time I’d said that out loud. It felt strange to admit it, but she kept looking at me, fascinated, her eyes warm and inviting. “I know I’ve got the build and the skills to bring some serious pain. But it seems to me there’s enough of that already. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“That’s so wonderful.” She looked at me across the table like I was her hero. She needed to stop looking at me like that. It might go to my head.

“How about you?” I changed the subject. “What do you want to do?”

“Ooh! Now that’s a big question.” She folded her fingers, every gesture so graceful. She looked down at her coffee as if marshaling courage, then announced, “Well, I know I’ve had all the advantages in the world with my education and I should probably say I want to do something scholarly or high-profile. But what makes me most happy is making a place feel homey.”

“What?” I didn’t mean to make her more self-conscious. I could already tell she felt nervous. She was speaking in a rush, diving into her words as if almost too shy to speak them. But I didn’t know what she meant.

“So, I work at this store.” She explained about the place she worked, how it sold little knickknacks. It wasn’t the kind of shop I’d ever set foot in, but I did like how she lit up as she talked about it. “The thing is, I’ve lived in these impeccably decorated houses, but none of them have felt like homes. I want to help people create a home, a place where they can feel safe and happy and at peace.”

That sounded pretty damn good. I didn’t know what to say. I’d definitely never felt that way.

“Anyway, I’m still figuring it all out.” She blushed and looked down.

I took her hand across the table. I didn’t like to see her shrinking into herself. For a girl with all the wealth and education and beauty in the world, she didn’t seem to have the self-confidence to go with it.

“I don’t know much about decorating. Or homes. You’ve picked two things I know nothing about. But I’m sure you’ll be great at it.” I caressed her hand with my thumb.

“You think so?” She lit right up under my praise.

I nodded. Conversation and time passed, each minute pulling me in more with the toss of her hair or the cross of her legs revealing skin that looked so impossibly soft and smooth. She smelled like roses, and I felt like I was getting drunk off her nearness. When I glanced at the time I saw it was already noon. I’d told the guys I’d stop by the shop around eleven thirty.

“I’ve got to go.” We stood and walked toward the car.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been talking nonstop and there’s still so much I don’t know about you! I don’t even know your last name!”

“Dominic Knox. Good to meet you.” I turned and shook her hand, giving her a smile.

“I like your name.” She sounded breathy as she smiled back. “And where did you grow up, Dominic Knox?”

“Central California, no place you’ve heard of.”

“Is your family still out there?”

“No, my mom’s here.”

“Oh, that’s nice, you came out here to live near her?”

Nice. Yeah, that was me. “You just called me nice again. That’s twice in one weekend.”

We climbed into the car, this time me in the driver’s seat. I liked getting back into the smaller space with her, her smell, her skin inches away. I put the key in the ignition, willing my boy to lie down. I’d been fighting getting hard most of the time we’d talked, like a fucking teenager on a first date.

“Did you go to college back in California?”

That made me laugh. “Sweetheart, I didn’t to go college. I don’t even have a high school diploma. So if you have some secret fantasy of dressing me up and bringing me home to meet dad, it’s not going to happen.”

“I’m not…I didn’t mean…” She trailed off, looking like I’d just popped her balloon. Fuck, that had come out too harsh, hadn’t it?

“Listen, don’t—”

“No, it’s OK. I get it. You keep trying to tell me you’re not interested. I don’t know what my problem is. I get it, you’re not into me.”

I groaned, leaning back in the seat. If only that were true. “I’m just trying to stop you from dreaming up some fantasy that’s never going to happen.”

“Right, thanks. I get it.” She straightened up, pissed and hurt and not looking at me.

“Gigi.” I turned to her.

“No, you’ve made it perfectly clear. You don’t want anything to do with me.”

I grabbed her rough and brought her to sit on my lap. She gasped and twisted, surprised, but I held her there, pinning her ass down right on top of my erection as I bent my head down to her neck and licked, then sucked her tender flesh.

“You feel that?” I whispered in her ear, licking her sensitive lobe, pushing my cock against her.

“Mmmm.” She tipped her head back, eyes half-closed, the perfect vision of surrendering to desire. For an innocent, she sure knew exactly how to grind herself against me, pressing along my shaft with a moan.

“You think I want nothing to do with you?” My hand traced a trail from her shoulder, down her chest to her breast. Through her dress I could see her arousal, her nipple pushing through. Light, teasing, I traced the swell of her breast, under then over, then around her hardened nipple. Her breathing picked up, growing quicker, more urgent.

“What do you want, Gigi?” I asked, fascinated by the intensity of her reaction. She bit her lip and arched her back toward me, begging me with all but her voice to touch her. I licked her ear, then whispered hot and low, “Do you know what you want? Do you want me to teach you?”

Then I brought my thumb and forefinger to her aching nipple and squeezed. Not hard, not rough like I really wanted to do, but a taste of what could come.

“Oh!” she gasped, her eyes and mouth flying open. “Dom!”

“You like that.” I growled with satisfaction, nuzzling into her neck, petting her nipple, her breast. I knew she’d like it and everything else I could bring as I dominated her, giving her that edge of pain along with the flood of pleasure.

A couple walked past the car, not looking in but not far enough away. It was Sunday morning in a parking lot. It was not the time or place to teach a virgin the pleasure of pain.

Without a word, I picked her up and put her back in her seat. She looked dazed and frustrated, her lips swollen from my kisses, her hair slightly disheveled. Just the tip of the fucking iceberg, I wanted to say, but instead I buckled her in tight and then about peeled out of the parking lot to bring her home.

The ride didn’t take long but damn if Gigi didn’t make me feel like I wanted to keep right on driving, maybe talk her into putting her feet up on the dash for me so I could get a good look at those legs all stretched out. I was sure I could find a secluded spot to pull over where I could taste her again, take my time and get her on my lap. Make her sigh and pant and slip a finger down her pretty panties to feel how wet I got her.

She punched in the code at her house and the gate swung open so I could drop her at her front steps. I stopped the truck but I kept the engine idling. Hand gripping th

e wheel, my arm out like a barrier between us, I didn’t look at her. I stared straight ahead, my jaw locked.

“Thank you for the driving lesson,” she said softly. “I appreciate that you took the time.”

She shouldn’t be so appreciative. I’d come close to giving her a lesson in a lot more than driving. “You should know how to drive,” I managed.

She hesitated, and I could sense her almost touch me. Almost put her hand on my bicep. She didn’t. She turned and got out of the car.

I drove off, letting out the breath I’d been holding. I could smell her the whole way back, her light floral scent, and more. I was probably making it up, but I swore I could smell a hint of her musky arousal. She’d gotten wet from my kisses, from grinding against me, from when I pinched and twisted her nipple.

That had to be the last time I had her in a car. There was only so much the big bad wolf could take before he sank his teeth right into little red riding hood.

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