Page 36 of Where He Ended

- Chapter 14 -

Dominic

When we get to thehotel I pull my car up to the curb. The valet comes out, taking my keys and asking if we need any help with our bags. “We're fine,” I say, putting my hand on the small of Laiken's back. Her clothing hides her skin from me, but I imagine it nonetheless.

We approach the reception desk, the woman there with her ruler-straight blonde hair flashing me a smile. My nod is curt. “I need a room for the night.”

She glances at Laiken curiously. “One bed or two?”

“One,” I answer immediately. I slap a thick black card onto the counter.

“Very good, sir,” she says, taking the card and running it through the computer. “If you need anything else just call down and let us know.”

I lead the way to one of the many elevators in the lobby. Laiken stiffens beside me, her tiny intake of air like a gong in my ears. I'm hyper aware of her discomfort. When we step through the metal doors, I slide my hand around hers. “We could take the stairs if you want,” I murmur.

“No, I'm fine. I can handle this.”

She says that, but her knees start shaking. I consider how the lights in the elevator turn her skin golden. The walls are reflective with mirrors and I can see us repeated multiple times from every angle. The doors start to slide shut; as they do, I grip her shoulders, pushing her into the corner of the elevator.

“What?” she blurts out.

My mouth taps her forehead; she tastes like minty soap and rainwater. I move lower, kissing her passionately, my tongue darting around hers, our lips warm and firm. My thumbs find the grooves behind her jaw and link together, cradling her neck like she's a sip of water I discovered in the desert.

Laiken returns my kiss so wonderfully that I feel like I'm levitating. I pull away far too soon, my nose rubbing hers, my lips curling in a subtle smile. “We're here,” I say.

Confusion colors her glowing eyes. She looks past me to see that the elevator doors have opened again. I kissed her all the way through our ride. I'd hoped it would keep her from getting uncomfortable in the elevator like she had back at the Complex.

Wrapping her fingers in mine, she pulls us from the elevator. “Which room is ours?”

Delighted by her rejuvenated energy, I point. Laiken yanks us towards the door in the hall with a thirty-two above it. I slide out the key card, but before I can open it, she tangles her fingers in my hair and kisses me wildly.

Her affection, her insistent need, is giving me life. I fumble with the card, tapping it five times before finally hitting the metal plate to make the door beep and unlock.

Shoving her inside, I slam the door behind us, ripping my coat off as I go. She's just as fast, unzipping her jacket down to her knees and letting it puddle on the floor. My beard scrapes her cheek as I tie our mouths together with a kiss harder than every other one.

Throwing her on the bed, I growl in the back of my throat. “Can't wait to get me alone, hmm?” I ask.

She stares up at me with her cheeks pink as newly blooming roses. “It's your reward for showing me how much you care about me.”

I falter, my hands pressing on the bed by her knees. “Haven't I already shown you that?”

“Yes,” she admits, her smile tugging higher. “But each time feels as good as the first all over again.”

I make a guttural sound. There's nothing like the experience of standing over her as she lies on the bed with her arms stretched onto the pillows, her long hair spilling in a haphazard S shape. She's wearing a pair of gray jeans and a white sweater woven from thick yarn.

I've seen her in glamorous dresses, in tight yoga pants, and naked under a rainstorm. But this - this comfortable way she lounges - somehow, it turns me on more than anything.

Reaching down I unhook my belt, thrilling at how her attention fixates there. “You like watching me, don't you?” I ask.

She nods slowly. “Obviously. Do you not realize how handsome you are? You're like no one I've ever seen before, Dominic.”

I'm flattered, but there's something beneath the surface of her compliment that bothers me.How many people has she actually seen, really?It's easy to forget in the middle of this normal hotel that Laiken's life has been anything but. She's lived on my estate for six years. She told me when we were kids that she hadn't seen any teenagers like me. If I asked her to, I bet she could describe the face of every single person she's ever met.

So does it really matter if she thinks I'm handsome?

Who does she have to compare me to?

“What's wrong?” she asks, sitting up on her elbows. “You just got a very weird look on your face.”

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