Page 85 of Dominate Me

“I gotta go.” I clipped my phone shut, his laughter the last thing I heard. I gave the address for Courtney’s townhome to the cab driver, hoping like hell she hadn’t moved in two years. Then I sat back in the cab and scrubbed my face with my hands.

Damn Dylan. He always made sense. It was why I respected him. Why I’d wanted him to be the one to mentor me.

And no, my first thought hadn’t been to discipline or punish her for pushing us further. She manipulated a situation to figure out something for herself, but that wasn’t how this worked. She communicated, I considered, and I decided.

I hadn’t done any of that. I’d freaked out, let my emotions get the better of me and instead of dealing with the entire situation the way I should have, I pushed her away.

Shit. I could have ruined things with her tonight, especially with the parting shot of going to see Courtney.

I had seen the pain, the jealousy in her tone, and I hadn’t even bothered to reassure her of anything.

For all Haley knew, we were over and I was going back to my old sub.

Damn it.

I flipped my phone in my hand, considered calling her, and decided not to.

I’d go see Courtney, make sure she was okay, and then I’d go deal with Haley.

And by the time I was done with her, she’d learn the way a relationship with me...one where we figured it out together, not her making decisions behind my back...would really go.

With me being the one leading it.

* * *

“Have a good night,” I said to the cab driver, tossing him enough money that he could take the night off.

I didn’t care. My heart pounded against my sternum. Lights were on all over the place, and the green plastic furniture she’d always had on her small front patio was still there, along with her gardening tools she’d loved so much. In the summer, her tiny, landscaped front yard would look better than anyone else’s in this townhouse community.

I was just glad she was still there. I wiped sweat from my palms down the thighs of my suit pants as I prowled to her front door, rapping firmly on the red wood six times, each knock successively louder.

I was wound tight.

Fearful.

Behind the door, music blared, and it gave me a moment’s hope. It was hip-hop music. Not the angry, screaming messy rock shit she’d listened to when her depression covered her like a thick blanket.

The door flew open, and Courtney, with one hand wrapped around the handle, swayed toward me. She caught herself right before she toppled over.

I reached to help steady her and she giggled drunkenly.

“Jensen. What are you doing here?”

I looked her over quickly. Red, bloodshot, swollen eyes and a pink-tipped nose told me she’d spent more than enough time crying. Mascara ran down her cheeks and smeared the rest of her makeup. Courtney was beautiful, it couldn’t be denied. She had sweet, succulent curves, hair that had to cost her a whack to get taken care of at the salon, a body that men didn’t just look twice at, but more than that, when she sauntered on by.

Tonight, she looked exactly how Haley had described her.

Destroyed.

And drunk.

Never a good combination for Courtney.

Any relief I’d felt seeing her alive vanished.

“Can I come in?” I asked, sliding my hands into the pockets of my pants. “Thought maybe you’d need to talk.”

“Funny, I don’t really have anything to say.”

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