Page 73 of Restore Me

I blink, confused at the sudden change in direction. Dominic takes a bite of his steak and lifts a brow as he chews. He wants me to go first, but I don’t know why. He was the one who wanted to use this dinner to tell me his rules.

I smooth my hands over my skirt. “I only have one thing I need, but judging by your reaction when I brought it up earlier, you’re not going to like it.”

He continues eating, but I’m suddenly too nervous to take a single bite of my food. Instead, I sip on my wine and try not to squirm under the weight of his silence. Finally, he swallows. The motion causes his Adam’s apple to bob. Damn, he even makes eating sexy.

“You want to put an expiration date on us.” Emotion flares behind his eyes before fading into unforgiving obsidian. “Tell me why.”

I push the greens in my salad around. “Well, I don’t know how long it’ll take to solve my uh….problem, but I’m sure you don’t want to be tied up in this—”

“Don’t make this about me, Sloane, and don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying, Dominic.”

“Yes, you are.” His jaw tenses. “Now tell me the real reason.”

I set my fork down and sigh. “Because the longer this goes on, the more likely it is that Mal or Mama will find out, and I don’t think my relationship with either of them would survive that. They’ll hate me, Dominic, and I can’t lose them.”

Several seconds tick by, and I watch Dominic weigh my words. Turning them over in his head with careful consideration. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait for him to say something, hoping he’ll agree to the only condition I have because if he doesn’t, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

You’re going to walk away. The voice in my head sneers and I hate to admit it, but it’s right. If Dominic can’t agree to this, then I’m going to have to walk away from him.

Even if the thought threatens to destroy my already shattered heart.

.

24

Dominic

Now

I’m becoming too familiar with the way Sloane’s forehead creases and her beautiful hazel eyes widen when panic is coursing through her veins. It’s a look I’ve seen more than I’d like to admit over the past few weeks: when that bastard had his hands on her in the club, when I walked in on James kissing her, when I burst into the women’s bathroom last night and scared the shit out of her, this morning when Mal showed up at her house, and right now when she’s waiting on me to respond to her suggestion that we put an end date on us.

Every cell in my body is screaming at me to shut the idea down. To lean over the table and tell her in no uncertain terms that she is mine. I’ve waited twelve fucking years to have her, and now she wants me to agree to what? A few weeks or months in her bed?

My hand clenches into a fist at the thought of getting so little of her even as I admit to myself that her reasons are valid. I know how much her relationship with Mal and Mama means to her. They’re her family, and I can’t say with any kind of certainty they won’t react exactly the way she thinks they will if they find out about us.

But damn if this isn’t fair. Twelve years of waiting just to be given….

“How long?”

Sloane flinches at the sharpness of my words, but she recovers quickly. “Until the renovation at La Grande Nuit is done. That should be long enough to get a handle on my skin hunger. Plus, when the project is done we won’t have a reason to be around each other as much.”

Right. I guess it doesn’t matter that you’ve fucking owned me for twelve years, and I don’t know how I’m going to survive you.

My jaw tenses as I do the mental calculation. My team has been ahead of schedule so far, which means barring any major changes from James, we have eight weeks left in this project. Eight weeks. I want to throw something.

“There are eight weeks left in the project. Is that all you want?” I set my fork down and study her. “Two months hardly seems like enough time for you to get comfortable with what’s happening here.”

Her nostrils flare, and I can see the irritation slipping over her features. She thinks I’m being patronizing, handling her with kid gloves, but I’m the only person at this table who knows how fucking broken she looked when she left me in that bathroom on Tuesday. So far we haven’t had another one of those situations, and I want to trust that she’s ready for more, but Sloane has no idea what it’s going to mean for me and her when I finally claim her the way I should have all those years ago.

It’s going to mean forever. It’s going to mean no turning back. It’s going to mean more than eight weeks in her fucking bed like a man on borrowed time.

“You don’t think I’m comfortable?” Sloane hisses. “I let you finger me in an elevator on the way up here, and you don’t think I’m comfortable with what we’re doing here?!”

My dick twitches, her words making me flashback to the heady rush of having my way with her. When I rubbed her ass and found out she obeyed my command to leave her panties at home, it made me hard in an instant. It took every bit of restraint I had not to pin her against the wall and fuck her until she saw stars.

“We both know sex is different, angel.” I reach over the table and grab her hand. She’s still mad, but she doesn’t snatch away. “Last night you said this was new for you, which I took to mean you haven’t—” I search her eyes, hoping that bringing up Eric isn’t about to blow this all to hell. “—I assumed it meant you haven’t been with anyone since Eric. Was I right?”

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