Page 39 of A Good Girl's Guide to Dominance
This is what it feels like to have your mind blown.
Did you hear me? My mind is blown!
A series of unprecedented and unpredictable events has taken place, and I am in a state of total shock. Allow me to sum up.
Rome chooses my pitch as the winner of pitch wars, setting up an epic showdown between Nix Malone and I in the near future.
After Sierra accuses me of trying to take her job, Rome storms in like one of the Avengers and saves me from her, threatening Sierra’s job for her insane lack of professionalism.
Rome surprises me by asking me out to a “business” dinner, during which we talk about everything, including the fact that he is … wait for it … a Dom!
Rome and I return to my place, and he shows me exactly the kind of Dom he is. He’s caring, making me use the word please as my form of consent. He never jumps to conclusions about what I want, even hesitating to choke me until I showed him that it was okay.
He made me come twice!
He made me cum a third time after waking up from sleeping on my floor.
He was literally the perfect Dom!
I had the shock of my life, and I couldn't have asked for anything more. The only problem is that I now sit here wondering what will happen next. After giving me the night of my life, there is still a wall of unanswered questions between us. I don't know what all of this means for us, because we still have to work together in front of Sierra, who is already suspicious.
I know what I want. It is easy for me to decide after all of the brutal missteps I've had. But I don't know what HE wants. Rome is an enigma, even hiding his smile as often as he can. What do I make of him? Who is the man behind the Dominant? And the biggest question of all is—will he allow me to find out?
Twenty
Jazmine’s eyebrows are stuck at the top of her head as she sits across from me, a plate topped with a crispy chicken salad resting in front of her. The muscles in her face don't move and she looks frozen in time with her jet black hair careening over her shoulder, making her resemble a beautiful, dark-skinned sculpture. I don't know what to say to unfreeze her, but I know it was my story about what I've been through with Rome over the past twenty-four hours that turned her to ice.
“I know,” I say as I lift up my turkey BLT and take a bite. “I'm not sure what to make of it either.”
As a small family is escorted to their table behind us by a hostess with bright red hair, Jaz finally blinks her way out of her frozen state.
