Page 95 of Restore Me

It’s even better than I expected. His dick is still hard, his long fingers wrapped roughly around his shaft like he was stroking it when he took the shot. Cum is everywhere, spilling from the flared tip, smeared on his fingers and in the fabric of the sheets wrapped around his powerful hips.

Dom laughs quietly. “I need to clean myself up and change my sheets, angel.”

“I know.” I pout, remembering the pressing loneliness that’s waiting for me when we hang up the phone. It was what prompted me to call him in the first place, but I forgot it completely while we were talking. I sigh heavily, wondering if he’ll think I’m weird if I ask him to stay on the phone with me tonight.

“When I get done, I’ll call you back. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep without your snoring rattling my bones.”

My mouth falls open in outrage even as my heart soars with a joy that can only come from being known and understood by someone. From never having to ask for what you want or need but being given it anyway.

Of course, he knew I missed him.

Of course, he understood that I wanted to find a way to be with him even if it couldn’t happen physically.

And of course, he knew I needed all of those things before I knew it myself.

Careful, Sloane. You almost sound like you’re in love. I push the thought aside, refusing to give any credence to the ramblings of my tired brain.

“I do not snore!”

.

28

Sloane

Now

On Thursday evening, I find myself home alone wrapped up in a rare group Facetime call with both of my parents. My dad is still at work and my mom is going through a large selection of evening gowns, looking for the one most likely to make her look like she has a heart.

“Sloane, darling. I happen to know that Ash is one of the bachelors being auctioned off at the Rockwell Foundation’s annual charity event this year. Please tell me you’ll be there to save him from the swarm of ladies who’ll be bidding on him. Half of them are old enough to be his mother.”

“Lauren.” My dad says sternly.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and tell my father that even his best lawyer voice won’t stop his wife from trying to force me to talk to her about my non-existent relationship with New Haven’s most eligible bachelor. Once again, that’s not me talking. Ash was literally on the cover of Harem, an exclusive print magazine with a cult following, this week with those exact words in sharp, red letters above his head.

“No, Mom,” I say instead. “Ash and I have decided we’re better suited to be friends, so he’ll have to fend for himself at the auction.”

Or be rescued by whatever mystery woman he was meeting at Roku yesterday. Either way, his fate at the charity event doesn’t have anything to do with me, and I refuse to act like it does. My mother gives a disapproving tut, but it’s Dad who speaks.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out, Bean.” His chestnut eyes shine with sincerity. “I hope my relationship with him didn’t have any bearing on the decision.”

I shake my head. “Of course not, Daddy. We’re just looking for two different things.”

Ash is looking for someone emotionally available, and I, apparently, am only looking for Dominic Alexander. The one man I shouldn’t want but have given up on resisting.

“What a shame.” My mother mutters. “You two made a beautiful couple.”

“Uh—thanks?”

Oblivious as always, she flashes me her socialite smile. “You’re welcome, love.”

We chat for a few more minutes before I finally manage to get them both off the phone, so I can collapse on my bed in peace. I’m exhausted and grumpy because it’s almost seven in the evening and the only person I want to see or talk to isn’t here yet.

In fact, I haven’t seen Dom all day. Between going to the office to handle the whole Jeanie situation with Mal and running around to check in on different projects being handled by my senior designers, I haven’t had time to swing by La Grande Nuit to see him or a free moment to do more than shoot him a quick text.

Apparently, his day has been busy as well, and now he’s stuck at the office going over details for the groundbreaking on a new project with Andre. It must be the same project he was working on yesterday because when he text me to say he was running late, his message had the same vague tone he used on the phone last night.

I settle into my pillows and pull out my phone. Scrolling through our messages and smiling at the only picture in our thread. Even in the light of day when most explicit things, but especially dick pics, look sleazy and low budget, Dom’s picture is just….well, hot. I stare at it, examining it closely and letting the uncomfortable pressure that’s been nestled in my core since last night build up until it reaches an impossible pounding that makes me feel like I’ll die if Dom doesn’t get here soon and relieve it.

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