Page 56 of Always You
“I remember this day like it was yesterday. I won you the teddy bear at the fair. After losing your father, I wanted to make you smile again.” His chin dips in remembrance of the day.
When I lost my father, I sank into depression. He never left my sight. He made sure I ate. Helped me shower. I was a zombie, barely living. An orphan. He brought me to life day-by-day. I’ll always be grateful. Nana tried to help me the best she could, but she was battling her grief for the loss of her son.
“It was an amazing night. I hadn’t left the house for two months. You made me smile again.”
Dominic sets the picture back, then grabs my hand. “Come on, let’s go downstairs.”
He sits on the couch, pulls me onto his lap, and gently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. His lips brush tenderly against mine, sending a wave of warmth through me.
“Mila, you're so damn beautiful. You’re mine, baby. You’ve always been mine.” His soft lips press against my own, sending sparks through my body as he kisses me passionately. His fingers tangle in my hair, and I grab a fistful of his brown locks in response. The intensity of his desire is palpable, and I feel a wave of heat course through me.
“Goddammit, Mila, I can’t get enough of you.”
His voice is a seductive drawl to me. He strokes his thumb on my lips. His hooded gaze stays pinned on my lips.
“I can kiss these all-day, baby,” he mummers in a husky voice laced with lust. He tugs me tighter onto his chest. So, close I can feel the vibration of his heartbeat. His bulge presses against my thigh.
“Dominic,” I reply softly.
“Angel, I need you, and I want you to know. The only reason I dated and proposed to Samantha was because of my mom pressuring and guilting me. She was a Band-Aid. I thought I could forget you. I never had another girlfriend, only you, even after all these years. Dating Samantha never felt real. I never gave her all of me, baby, never.” He shakes his head. “I want you to know I’ve never loved another woman, nor will I ever. I’ve missed you so much, Angel, you are the love of my life.”
He kisses my nose, then my cheek.
“Listen to me,” he said, emphasizing each word. “You, Mila,” Dominic growls. “It’salwaysbeen fuckingyou, baby.”
A tear escapes.
He catches it with the tip of his finger. I have no words.Nada.
Running my hands through his hair, his head tilts back, I crash my lips with his. This is all I needed to hear to reassure myself it was always me. He lifts me off the couch. I wrap my legs around his waist, kissing him, not wanting to part from his lips. We shuffle our way up the stairs.
“Where’s your room?” he breathes into my mouth.
I point to it. Shutting the door quietly, he locks it.
“I need you, baby, so damn bad; I want to respect you and take it slow for you.”
Fuck slow. I’ve been withouthimfor too long. My body aches for him, with so much damn longing. I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck.
“I need you to, Dominic, I need to feel this is real… you’re here. It’s been so long. I’ve dreamt of this for years.”
He blows soft kisses on my collarbone.
“It’s real, baby, from the very first day I saw you in the restaurant, you awoke every part of me. I haven’t had sex with anyone since you came back into my life, not even Samantha, I couldn’t. I knew you were back, and you’re all I wanted, all I needed… Have you?”
I’m so heated I can’t think straight. I know he’s asking if I’ve slept with Brian. Guilt sours in my belly.He hasn’t slept with anyone.I had sex with Brian. But fuck I shouldn’t feel guilty he hurt me. He was engaged.
“Dominic, I have. I-It was just umm. We used protection,” I fumble with my words and swallow the lump.
Dominic closes his eyes, and hot breath fans my face. He swallows. I know jealousy is brewing inside him when his eyes darken. He lays me on the bed without a word. He crawls into bed next to me and slides his hand along my jawline. I close my eyes and breathe a sigh of relief.
His touch is soft and delicate, almost a promise of things to come. Dominic kisses me softly, but I can taste the urgency just below the surface. His tongue grazes mine, tiny flicks leave me quivering. He tugs my tank top off, tossing it to the floor. His fingertips glide over my skin. He sucks in a sharp breath and locks eyes with me.
“Angel,” he gasps. His fingers trace the tattoo just below my breasts. His Adam’s apple bobbing.
“When did you get it?” he says, slowly releasing his breath.
Thinking back to the day I walked into the tattoo shop, with shaking hands numbly, I walked in. The wretchedness of my shattered heart needed to feel the blazing of the gun on my skin, the desperation to feel alive. A year and a half after I thought he passed away. I asked Mike to tattoo a single red rose and in place of the stem, Dominic’s name. In memory of Dominic, symbolizing my love for him.
