Page 53 of Restore Me

His hands go to my waist, gripping the fabric of my dress and bunching it up. My breath catches in my throat, and I feel it. The last piece of the puzzle clicking into place with just his touch. And all of a sudden, my fruitless search for it makes sense. I wouldn’t have been able to solve the riddle of my desire with Ash, or anyone else for that matter, because the moment I let Dominic Alexander touch me, it stopped belonging to me.

When the fabric of my dress is above my knees, Dominic groans at the sight of my garter belt then lifts me up and places me on the counter. He nudges my legs apart to make room for the span of his hips, and I don’t do a thing to stop him.

“You wear this for him—” He snaps one of the straps connecting the lace cuffs on my thighs to the belt around my torso, and I gasp. “—And he’s upstairs sipping drinks with strangers while you’re down here by yourself. He couldn’t even be bothered to wait for you and make sure no other drunken asshole got his hands on you?” His fingers are on my neck. They run up and down the column of skin with soft strokes. “I guess I’m the only one who’s concerned about your well-being.”

Irritation slides down my back at his words, but I can’t hold on to it. Everything he makes me feel, anger, regret, frustration, irritation, is all overridden by need the moment his skin touches mine. Somehow I think he knows that and is using it against me, which tells me I need to get his hands off of me immediately.

Both of my hands come up, landing on Dominic’s chest and extracting a surprised hiss from his lips as I shove him. He backs away, and I don’t even bother feeling triumphant at breaking the moment because I know I was only able to move him because he allowed me to. I pull my dress down as much as I can before glaring at him.

“You don’t give a fuck about my well-being. If you did you wouldn’t have spent the better part of the week acting like I didn’t exist after… ”

“After you ran out on me.”

His words are vicious, biting into my skin with their truth. I did run out on him, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for him to ice me out. “I was upset, and anyone with eyes could see that. I mean is there some rule against being embarrassed about not having a handle on my skin hunger and losing it at work with my husband’s best friend of all people? God, Dominic—”

“Not having a handle on your what?”

His brows furrow as he stops me mid-rant, and I feel myself turning the color of my dress when I realize what I just said. Talking about my skin hunger with him, or anyone that isn’t my therapist, feels like a new kind of nightmare. We stare at each other, and I know he’s waiting for an explanation just as surely as I’m waiting for him to be enough of a gentleman to forget I ever said those words. One look at him tells me that’s not going to happen though.

“Skin hunger,” I repeat, steeling myself for the moment when he bursts into laughter and makes me feel like even more of a fool. But it doesn’t come. Instead, Dominic looks at me expectantly and gestures for me to continue. “My therapist said it’s also referred to as touch starvation, and it’s something a lot of people struggle with when their spouses die, and they go from having regular physical contact, like hugs, cuddles and sex, to not having any meaningful touch for long stretches of time.”

“I see,” Dominic says quietly, his fingers flexing like my admission is his personal call to action and he’s barely containing the urge to put his hands back on me. “And this is something you struggle with?”

“Yes. Hence the whole dating thing.” Goddammit, Sloane! It’s like I can’t keep my mouth closed. Dominic’s eyes darken at the mention of my date and the suggestion that I’m using Ash for cuddles, or worse, sex. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, it’s not like I’m using him…”

“Use me.”

“What?” I sputter, even though I heard him loud and clear. “Use you? For what?”

“To take care of your needs. You said your skin is starved for touch. Use me to sate your hunger.” He starts to move towards me again, but I hold my hands up.

“Dominic, no.”

“Why not? We already know we’re attracted to each other, and I’ve got to be a better option than some random guy Mal scraped up for you. I know you, angel.” His eyes glitter dangerously, and I can practically see his synapses firing as he lists off all the reasons I should use him, the man who started this problem in the first place, to fix it. “After Tuesday, I understand what even the most basic physical situation means to you, and I’ll make sure you feel comfortable and safe going into it. Can you honestly say you’d trust someone else to do that for you?”

For a second I’m captivated by the certainty lining his features. It’s contagious, spilling into the air and wrapping around my lungs. But then I remember his reaction to what happened between us and come back to reality.

“No, but I don’t think I can trust you to do that for me either.”

He frowns. “Why not?”

“Because you regret what happened on Tuesday.”

That was the only plausible explanation I could come up with when I noticed how cold he was being the next day, and it made perfect sense to me that he might have felt that way. Eric was like his brother and being with me must have felt like betraying him.

While I’m lost in my thoughts, Dominic closes the space between us, and I don’t make a move to block him. In the blink of an eye, he’s back between my legs, cradling my face in his hands and staring down at me with raw, brutal emotion.

“Sloane, the only part of Tuesday I regret is not thinking about how you would feel after the moment passed.” He gives me a rueful grin. “I know it might make me sound like a bastard, but the rest of it is inconsequential.”

“You’re not a bastard.”

A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest. “Oh, but I am, angel. If I wasn’t I wouldn’t be considering ripping your panties off, eating your pussy until you scream the walls down, and sending you back to your date with the juices of your orgasm running down your thighs.”

My heartbeat drops between my legs. A delicious swirl of anticipation curls low in my belly at the thought of Dominic’s tongue gliding through my wet folds. Unfortunately, it’s quickly followed by panic. Not about someone walking in on us or facing Ash after letting this man have his way with me.

Though those are somewhere on the list.

But at the possibility of losing it in front of Dominic once I come down from whatever heights his wicked mouth sends me to. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth.

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